Already Closing the river passes without speaking its reflection is older than the trees I follow but nothing ahead is mine to reach in the grass insects rehearse in a language no ear remembers I think of time as a door opening into another door already closing #poetry

neon Friday steps into the street traffic lights flicker like cheap saints selling grace to the weary #poetry

For @alanparrywriter.co.uk and @thebrokenspine.co.uk I wrote this recently and adapted it for this #PoemsAbout #SilentPlanets. Remembering someone who is no longer here. #poetry #writing #writingcommunity #poetrycommunity Quiet Orbits

The Long Silence #poetry

Beatnik Riff #poetry

subway koan train roars like a steel throat clearing we sit shoulder-to-shoulder strangers earbuds sync to different eternities graffiti saints drip halos over rust and the question is always the same: when the doors open who are you? #poetry

Manifesto with Crosswalk #poetry

Instructions for Breathing on the 7:10 Bus #poetry

Wake to sirens weaving through dreams coffee thick as midnight asphalt eyes bruised but burning outside, taxis stitch the dawn- every light a dare I step out let the city’s mouth swallow me whole- heartbeat syncs with subway thunder I am awake and the world is moving #poetry

Without Asking to Be Remembered #poetry (alt text)

Wednesday III Wednesday knocks at my window, rain dripping from her hair. She doesn’t ask to come in- just stares long enough to remind me this week is not endless, though it feels that way sometimes. #poetry

Wednesday II Wednesday hails me from the corner, slick jacket, sly grin. He says he’s got a shortcut to Friday- but when I follow, it’s just another block with the same cracked sidewalks. We both laugh, keep walking anyway. #poetry

Wednesday Wednesday whistles through his teeth, a tune no one else remembers. He flicks cigarette ash on the curb, winks at the pigeons, and tells me straight: the week won’t sing itself- you gotta carry a little of the tune. #poetry

The street shines with last night’s rain, every puddle holding a borrowed sky. Monday glitters in small ways: a stranger holding the subway door, a busker tuning his guitar, the smell of oranges at the corner stand. I write it down before the noise drowns it out. #poetry

Sunday morning sidewalks hum- a sax player folds yesterday’s notes into the river of traffic. I sip cheap coffee, pretend I’m not part of the choir but my feet keep time anyway. #poetry

cigarette stubbed on a library step- the poet’s manifesto inked on a receipt blows past the feet of gay lovers debating Nabokov and last night’s wine.🍷 #pietry

Saturday spills its guts on cracked concrete corners- joggers, junkies, jazzheads all jostling for the same sun. I sip burnt coffee, watch a priest flirt with the barista like it’s his calling. #poetry

Street preacher trades call with skateboard reply. Amen, ollie, amen. Rain left brushes and a wet snare. Pigeons tap the rim. I am the unknown poet in a paper mask of light, walking easy, counting kicks: crosswalk chirp, bakery bell, one stranger nod. The tune remembers me. #poetry

Morning slides in sideways, bassline under my feet, horns warming in the cracks of dawn. The streetlights blink blue, cabs syncopate with pigeons, and I jot it down crooked- notes chasing notes, never landing, just swinging me forward. #poetry

Thursday’s a trumpet solo- loud, cracked, still holy. Coffee bitter as brass, train screeching sharp in my ears. The city plays wrong notes on purpose, and I grin, because that’s the only way to keep it alive. #poetry

I wake into today, mouth dry as subway air, my notebook full of half-finished lies. A girl with glitter on her shoes asks the time- I tell her the truth instead: it’s too early to matter, too late to go back. #poetry

Thursday’s a crooked sax riff in a cheap bar- off-beat, half-right, still beautiful. The trains stutter, pigeons argue on the wires, I lean against a lamppost pretending the city knows my name. #poetry

Unknown Poet, 7:57 a.m. I practice being seen without being caught. Name tucked, edges sanded, heart wearing scuffed sneakers. If you read over my shoulder, the train rhymes by accident. I let the rhyme happen. That’s my rebellion today - letting the soft thing keep its shape. #poetry

neon benediction Blue awning, cat accountant tallying cars with its tail. We edit the day on foot - cut one fret, add one bad joke, move the comma from brow to mouth. River says keep and we do. Streetlights sign our initials small so the sky won’t notice. #poetry

Unknown Poet, 7:31 a.m. Jacket the gray of good advice, poem folded like exact change. Turnstile stutters, then blesses. On the train I practice vanishing kindly. If you sit beside me, the city rhymes out loud and Wednesday writes us on the fogged glass. #poetry

The city drums its knuckles on every metal door I answer with shoe leather and a pocket metronome today I will forgive the noise I will call it music and cross. #poetry

The Sound of Rain Before You Were Born #poetry #writing #writingcommunity #poetrycommunity

All That is Lost I keep asking the sky but it does not know what questions are each day rises and then forgets I walk into the air and it closes behind me without a seam all that is lost remains somewhere without us #poetry

Questions No One Asked time goes on without stopping to see if I am here the road behind me erases itself as I walk I say a word and already it belongs to silence the world is made of questions no one asked #poetry

I dreamed my ribs were origami cranes. each breath threatened to tear the paper. you touched my chest and they rose- a flock startled from the body, seeking skies I had forgotten. #poetry

Train doors gasp open- a rush of warm air, perfume and asphalt. I step in, and for once the city feels like a rhythm I can join, a Monday drumbeat that carries me somewhere I haven’t been yet. #poetry

Subway crowd presses in- suits, backpacks, earbuds, the week’s first congregation. I watch our reflections blur against the dark windows, a moving mural of strangers all headed toward different versions of the same beginning. #poetry

Crosswalk light flickers green, coffee still hot in my hand, and the sky over high-rises hasn’t decided whether to storm or shine. I take this as a gift- that pause of possibility, as if the city itself is waiting to see what kind of Monday I’ll choose. #poetry

My Mind Unspooling in 4K #poetry (Alt text)

The Mirror in the Hall in the hall the mirror hangs without complaint it has seen everyone pass and vanish again I pause to meet the face it insists is mine I nod and walk on unconvinced #poetry

Afternoon dust turns in the light, each fleck a drifting echo. I watch them rise and fall, like tiny lives lived and forgotten in the space between two notes. I think of you then, your voice between measures- not singing, just there like the dust, unsettled by light. #poetry

Friday morning coffee bitter, jazz still in my veins the sun slams through blinds like a cop’s flashlight- I’m awake, barefoot preacher of sidewalks, spitting gospel to pigeons and delivery trucks, my heart still tapping bop-bop-bop. #poetry

O Friday morning, you slippery beast- you throw your gold across the rooftops and laugh when I chase it, hair wild, eyes cracked open, muttering poems to hydrants, to the barista who knows my story and not my name. #poetry

Snack machine parable C2 finally drops. Victory is salted and small. I share three chips with my shadow to teach it generosity. #poetry

Unknown Poet, 7:13 a.m. Jacket the gray of good advice. Poem folded like exact change. If you stand beside me, the city will keep our secret. #poetry

Station coffee Paper cup heat in both hands, name misspelled, heart correct. Somewhere a train inhales. Your glance touches mine, quick as a match, and keeps burning in my pocket. #poetry

Unknown Poet, 9 a.m. I practice disappearing in plain sight: jacket the color of rain, name tucked in a pocket, poem folded like a transfer. If you sit beside me, the city will rhyme. #poetry

Minimal prayer for commuters Grant us green lights, good shoes, and one clear thought that stays. #poetry

MONDAY Mending what the weekend frayed, Opening the window to small weather, Naming the task by its gentler name, Drafting courage in pencil, Allowing a sweet distraction, Yielding one worry to the trash. #poetry

Morning spills out of bottles and buses, streets slick with last night’s promises. The city exhales- a half-smile, a half-cigarette- and we walk it off, hands in empty pockets, waiting for the weekend to break like a wave over our tired shoes. #poetry

Friday flash- her heels click syncopation, streetlight chorus, I catch her smile, she drops it in my pocket, we ride the rhythm, two bodies borrowed from the night. #poetry

Friday sidewalks drum- coffee steam rising, her hand brushes mine as she walks past, quick as a match-strike, city doesn’t notice but my pulse won’t stop keeping time. #poetry

Snap-snap- coffee poured, clap-clap- pigeons lift, whap-whap- paperboys toss news. Thursday’s chorus: improv jam, streets the stage, horns tune sharp. Da-da-dee, another morning sings itself raw. #poetry

Rat-tat trashcan lids, thump thump bus tires, click-clack heels chase time. Thursday syncs to the snare, skips the downbeat, jumps the curb- ba-bap-bop, it’s almost Friday, but quite not yet, not quite yet. #poetry

Pop-pop subway doors slap, hiss hiss brakes squeal, ba-da-boom footsteps scatter- Thursday scatters too, no melody, just riffs, spit-valve drip on the corner, horn blows blue, da-da-dum, city chews. #poetry