As I approach eighty straight days of writing poetry, I’ve decided to compile a manuscript containing that work, along with excerpts for select pieces. I predict it will fall between one hundred forty and two hundred pages. I’ll very likely self publish, as I’m impatient, and publishing houses care little for poets. Most especially those of my persuasion. I’ve still got other projects in the works, and home life has been running me down, but I’m intent on keeping it all in order.

Hope everyone is feeling well.

Warm regards,

J.C – Lloyd

Across and Out of Time

Turn of the century

A millennia come to pass

I am an artifact

A remnant of the last

Out of place in either

A man out of time

Old soul suspended on a wire

My precarious position

Hung up on reality, despite my ceaseless wishing

Spring Beyond The Pane

Muted shades of brown and grey

Last year’s bounty, cold and flat

Waiting for warmer days

Spring within my grasp

Patches of grass, branches in the trees

Soon revitalized, bringing emerald greens

Violets, reds and blues

From this side of the glass, I’ll put them in to view

Waiting

Safety under threat

Strange days

In fear of my next breath

Thoughtful Steps

Eyes turned inward

Toward the shimmers in the dark

Captivate me for a while

Seeking out the heart

Impart from within

Some kind of understanding

A life alike a set of flights, falls and landings

Demand little, find enough

Gain momentum

Pick myself back up

A Ghost Ship

Untrained, untethered, unfettered from without

Unmoored all of a lifetime

Knowing only my own doubts

Drowning out the noise

The winds of change ring in my ears

I hear only my voice

I only feel the years

I speak only my mind and desire little else

I am the wind, I am the sail, the ship and every swell