BLUEPEPPER

Ascension It is a weekend of ascension and seawater. Your face still haunts me. She shows her face and all I see is love. Th...

Picnic All this time later, I still hear the screams of a lizard flailing in the clutches of a brahminy kite,...

Bow and Scrape  How freeing, to bow out; there's wisdom in it.  Mind's tumescence halted.  What's twisted in you ...

Meeting Dad Again My father emigrated from Ireland to the United States in the early 1920s. He had been released from Spike Island by t...

Weather-worn Woman My heart is an ocean of hopes on which you sail. My heart is a storm-battered barque in an...

Dark Falls by Railway Lines/ The Murderer’s Motif How the souls cry out their battered endings from this shallo...

Taxi, oh Winding through The early dark, the usual identity parade Unfolds, beyond The window’s glass. But...

Reports from Paris 1. "So" Since drinking hurt her stitches, it was more out of habit than anything else she still wen...

To the Wallace Stevens of art Where is the Life we have lost in living? Where is the wisdom we have lost in knowled...

I Wish I Never Saw This I see you against the night landscape Browsing through the shelf of darkness Trying to find a book, n...

The Funeral of Bosco Jones Twenty years ago Bosco Jones died after a long and purposeful life. His children, (long departed fr...

The arts in Australia are under attack once again. Or should I say, the intensity of the attacks has intensified and a second front opened ...

Auchenflowers I climbed the roof of Huxum TCE and established a rural OUTPOST. A FERAL language grounding within the...

Graffiti  Degrade degrade degrade yourself  take care to curl up small.  Have I grown  compact enough?  Unfurl me at your pe...

CT Scan There is nothing that can be hidden from this eye. It means to know me like the sun knows a leaf. It ap...

The Brook Trout Cold shadowed creek flow where the trout come from the depth like a hanging man, the sun spri...

Crazy, Crazy Love on the Seniors Card/ Sideways Steam Train Delay the departing train down at the rail head, ...

The old woman The old woman that lives at the end of the lane As she has forever Eternally stamped and as dishe...