Category Archives: Fiction

The Inquisitor


A dreamer too awake for good
With too much time to speculate about morality
Is playing with fire.

A well-trained climber in new territory
With overconfidence as a compass
Is scaling higher.

The zen master creating new realms
With the steady hand of conscience,
Is trembling slightly.

The world rendered existent,
With a multitude of thoughts upon its shores,
Is a trifle unsightly.

A doorbell recently employed,
Minimum wage, paying rent,
Has acquired a sore throat.

Someone walking in the halls,
With a lambent torch in hand gazed at the portrait.
With silence to keep him afloat.

A falling star quit his job,
And suspended in mid-air within my room,
Multiplying the number of my visitors.

A dreamer far too awake for silence,
Breaks the air with an echoing “Hello.
I’m known as the Inquisitor.”

To Dream, From France


Every night he dreams, seeing fields of home in morning light, with Olivia dancing alone. COCKADOODLEDOO! The rooster’s startling melody awakens him, to realize morning at home is midnight in France. He walks with his umbrella the shoreline of Biscay, while the rain blurs the emerald surf keeping lovers apart.