Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …

Sonnet 55

15 October 2013

Sonnet 55


In dreams I love the loves I used to love,

as if love which was could ever be enough

but love remembered, even love that’s lost

might still be love despite what it cost.

And love is love whatever else it is

a part of it will always still exist

within our hearts, perhaps too in our minds,

we cannot rid ourselves of it sometimes.

Even though those we love can come and go,

I often ask what I can never know

Did I truly love anyone at all?

Is love much bigger, or rather that small?

I can’t say for certain, my answers change,

for love is both beautiful and yet strange.

15 October, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

trust is a slippery eel

29 September 2013



trust is a slippery eel




a slippery eel,

who’s never caught easily

so fragile to hold

squirming scrutiny

uncomfortable with your gaze,

demanding freedom

don’t hold too tightly

I am captive by my choice

as if, unaware

questioning waters

both a right and privilege

earned, given freely

such a complicated simplicity

trust is balanced without duplicity.

29 September, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , , | Leave a comment

Sonnet 54

14 September 2013

Sonnet 54


Ill-mannered ghosts invade my solitude,

enticing me to listen as if to prove

dead soliloquies need no audience,

even with unwilling participants.

I offer no encouragement nor praise,

however, they’re undaunted just the same,

as if aware their words reach deep inside

reigniting embers I thought had died.

They seem to take such joy inflicting pain,

resurrecting my hurtful past again,

reminding me of what will never be,

and feeding on my renewed misery.

I wish sometimes they’d just leave me alone,

as crucifying love cannot atone.

14 September, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Sonnet 53

03 August 2013


Sonnet 53



my journal’s filled with things I never said,

some I should have, some after I am dead.

I know there is no truth that’s absolute,

my words have never needed any proof.

I’ve written what I felt I had to write,

sometimes the gray, not strictly black and white.

Opinions, colored by the moment’s mood,

I assume my words will be misconstrued.

For now, I’ll write my way through my own soul,

simply to understand myself the goal.

I’m not adept at hiding what I feel,

my words especially tend to reveal.

My journals are that safe place that I need,

where words become the lifeblood which I bleed.

3 August, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Sonnet 52

31 July 2013

Sonnet 52


A truckload of boxes and smaller stuff,

another for furniture is enough.

Hard to believe I am reduced to this,

but the more I discard, the less I miss.

Most of what I’ve clung to, means nothing now,

which could mean I’ve grown, but I don’t know how.

More likely, I’ve just learned to accept things

as they are, no matter what life might bring.

Sure I grumble, complain, and get depressed,

it’s hard to see any good, I confess.

But somehow I still have that naive faith

which believes there’s more than just Luck or Fate.

Change is never easy, but can be good.

Unfinished tales don’t have to be understood.

31 July, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Sonnet 51

28 July 2013


Sonnet 51



I stood back and watched the game for awhile,

the simplicity’s like a magic trick,

not everyone can toss a dart with style,

some might even do better with a brick.

It’s clear the points are not as sharp on some,

certain darts just bounce right off the balloons,

but as I watched, I saw that with his thumb,

he covered up the Star with a full Moon.

So I couldn’t just memorize which one,

to aim at in order to get the prize

I felt the randomness stole all the fun

I guess as long as someone wins sometimes.

All of the games are rigged as we all know,

I’ll just spend my money on some fried dough.

28 July, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Sonnet 50

25 July 2013

Sonnet 50


I’ve been to Muscle Beach and showed my form,

and to Bikini Beach, which caused a storm

not to mention, Life’s A Beach where I live,

but some beaches I just cannot forgive.

I’ve had my share of kicked sand in my face,

seen each shape and size of the human race.

I’ve certainly been burned, and almost drowned

been poisoned by warmth and lulled by the sound,

Eroded by waves, which just come and go,

taking my sand castles out with the flow.

Seashells are pretty, the ocean, immense,

but if you ask me, it doesn’t make sense.

Maybe I’ve had enough fun in the sun,

all I can say is my beach days are done.

25 July, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment


17 July 2013



Yeah, I read your words, I hear what you say

you’ve perfected the look, the smile, the play

you project what you want me to believe

and maybe nine out of ten you’d deceive

my trust isn’t so easily given

I suspect there’s always something hidden

I’m cynical, almost to an extreme

I do not buy into fairy tale dreams

Your credibility has to be earned

say what you will, truth is always discerned

even with practice, the most polished lies

will come to light, however well disguised

that child-like innocence that I once had

corrupted and lost, it’s really quite sad.

17 July, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment


17 July 2013



it’s sneaking food to a cold, starving stray

kitten, who’s quite fat and lazy today.


it’s rescuing an injured butterfly

from the road, although you know it will die.


a baby Robin, too soon from the nest,

nurtured and released, no longer a guest


a word or a hug to lift someone’s soul,

perhaps just to say, "You are not alone."


it’s caring and reaching because you can,

not out of duty, to meet some demand


it is not thinking less, nor thinking more

it is an unwillingness to ignore.


compassion is a gift, given, received

something I hope for, in which I believe.

17 July, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment