Where to get: Free Verse in Useless Times

Just a little shameless self promotion : As you may or may not know, I have been working on publishing my first poetry book and it has now hit the “e-shelves” -“Free Verse in Useless Times”
I really hope you will buy and enjoy it –  the poetry in the collection been described by one reviewer as ” lovely and sometimes profound” it’s $3.99 US and if you do, please also consider leaving a review. Both would mean a lot to me. You can purchase it through iBooks, Indigo and Chapters Kobo or on Smashwords, the self-publishing site that I have used. Here are the links:
***Please feel free to pass this on to any family and any friends that you may think of that may enjoy contemporary poetry

Apple’s iBooks – https://itun.es/ca/X_5S_.l

Indigo/Chapters Kobo – https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/free-verse-in-useless-times/9780995003309-item.html

Smashwords -https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/600267

Thanks for considering and again, best of the season and a very happy New Year!

Thank you for your support !


Go Last

Go Last.


1/ Don’t Know Why

Don’t know why
after so
Many years,
And after collection
After collection
of haptic verse
laid down
And written in arenas
Of solitude
and midnight silence:
-A decision to make them
Except perhaps
for the encouragement
Of friends,
Except perhaps,
For a heart rending love,
Except perhaps
For that quiet
and delightful terror
That gnaws
contently, consistently,
About my errors,
And moves
The human family

2/ Heart

Labours during
the day
so many;
And at times
On the road,
And very late at night,
Or in the early dark morning,
In certain breaths,
heart full voluntary deaths
Self inflicted
By outside coming
And by the music
And sound of words;
Enough deaths
at some
But expected
An aortic arch
May burst
In an
to the
ending all illusion;
With a single arrow,
Or many arrows,

And this heart


Will Finally

Free Verse in Useless Times

The lights flickering

In the distance are red

and I believe that

I’ve totally lost my head.

The city it seems

is burning red


Not sure of

just what I’ve said

from one moment

to the other.

Verse pours out like

random bread that’s

passed out

for the swollen bellies

of the famished.

See how skeletal they sit

or lie beside

their mothers,

and are easily

mistaken for the dead,

like so many

of the others all around them.

A look is in

children’s eyes,

eyes with wrinkles

deeply etched.

Mother’s are cradling

their heads.

Hunger, pain

live here raw

like free verse

doled out

by parted

empty lips

in vacant

useless times.

Women and children

gather scraps of metal

in abandoned mines

at the expense

of fragile lives,

like free verse collected

in some

long forgotten,


and useless time.

And all

seems random


and destined


not to survive.

No need for


no need for the contrived

lines of verse

that rhyme,

It’s just all meant

to be so simple:

Death just comes

wandering here,


on its own


left and right,


may be in sight,

like free verse in

useless times.

Poetry Art, the Child


Poetry , Art the Child

There is a quiet
And exhilarating joy
In poetry or art ,
like a child
born and raised
on page or canvas
waiting to be engaged ,
appreciated ,
waiting to delight ,
to commit
and reflect the
viewer , the reader,
to occupy their mind .
Poetry , art
Is like a child
whose company
is precious
to enjoy ,
and to delight in.
It gives us joy
and a single parting
of the fleeting sweetness
That is life .

From “Eyes of the Artist ” by PWChaltas