Category Archives: Poetry

Color Schemes – Death


Splashes of color corrupt the clean canvas,
white – pure and blinding;
the light at the end of the tunnel we all deny we’ll someday reach.
Speech stopped and fear knocked, escorted by the man dressed in
black – it’s the total darkness that scares us.
What could ever prepare us for the unknown? Continue reading Color Schemes – Death

Take Me to Church, I’ll Worship like a Model at the Shrine of the Times…

I wasn’t sure about posting this one – mostly because despite my faith being strong, my feelings about religion confuse me too much for me to really write about them, but Stevie convinced me with a classic “Why not?” So here goes:


Everyone arrives late. Late to being early, late to being on time. Flash.
Disregard for ceremony, Disregard for the sacred.
Religion is what we make it – And here, it appears
As a spectacle. A side show fit for bright camera lights and unfunny levity. Flash. Continue reading Take Me to Church, I’ll Worship like a Model at the Shrine of the Times…

Misplaced Missives #1 – Fire – JG

I realized belatedly that I never said what my Misplaced Missives are, and I figure there’s no better time to explain than at the beginning. Thus, down below is the first – not the first written but the first rewritten into my private journal. These are the lost letters to the ones I’ve loved; letters I was never brave enough to send or letters there’s no longer anyone to send to. So thank you for reading these in the stead of those who never will. Continue reading Misplaced Missives #1 – Fire – JG

Misplaced Missives #139 – Playing Cards – JG

 139. Playing Cards

Your honesty is only there when it suits you;
The attention I bet; the effort you neglect;
Their only reward is guilt and regret.
I suspect I’ll never win your heart or your trust,
And that my prize will be the hush
Left from unanswered questions and awkward silences. Continue reading Misplaced Missives #139 – Playing Cards – JG

Misplaced Missive #160 – Written In The Sand


I can’t read what isn’t written;
Can’t make sense of scribbles in the sand.
How can you proclaim the perfection of what you preach,
When the standards you set, are out of anyone’s reach?
Who are you, to think to teach,
When you yourself are in so much need?
When you yourself are so easily deceived? Continue reading Misplaced Missive #160 – Written In The Sand