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From the soul

I miss you
I love you
Ricochet with such ease

With no roots
No depth
No shadow
Words are just words
Unless they stem
From tried souls


Image: Tony Murphy -Boyle’s Gaelic Chieftain


The inner mountain

Climbing that inner mountain,

My soul is one with it,


Another daily grind

Today I toe the line.
That daily grind
leaves grit inside my soul
and hands
around my throat
I choke
on my own words.
The shame of it.



In the first pages of a new journal I wrote this last night:

“In these pages are my heart. My soul. My musings. Themes. Ideas. My tears are spilled on these pages in agony. 85 more words

Your magnetic face

I trace the contours of your face,
over your eyes,
They’re wise,
Oh, I hear your surprise!
I feel the madness too,
I know you,
You know I do.


New Headsets Geared Toward Mobile/Gaming Generation

Sitting in front of us are seven different over-the-ear headsets from seven manufacturers that want us to believe their product is “unique.” Unfortunately, nothing is “unique,” although each of these sonic boomers has a feature or two that sets them apart from the others. 840 more words

Consumer Tech