Reblogs – Murray Robertson & Goff James

Every decision we make and every path we take is in our hands, except the outcome. Like the seasons, we have no control over the changes that occur.

Bright October by Murray Robertson

yesterday’s flower 
at the north end 
of a sunbeam, 
some things  
seem never  
but yesterday’s 
sunshine has 
lost its meaning, 
relevance and  
colours fading now. 
as i look out the  
window, i see  
winter approach. 
a chill already 
blights the  
morning light. 

Turning from the past by Goff James

Ken Gierke


Well worn,
our path together,
though not

Our destination
nowhere near

the one we chose.
Where we parted,
all that remains

is a milestone
of what once was
our life together.

Reading Between the Lines


Fine lines, creases
Framing the lips
Corners of the eyes

Within those eyes
A gleam of enthusiasm
The dull shade of weariness

Regarding those lips
The glimmer of teeth
A solemn line of doubt


A gleam in the eyes
Taken for joy
Or is it anger?

Teeth shown in anger
Or is that a hint of laughter?
The lips might say

Or is it all weariness?
The answer lies in both
Behind the mask

Shorter Still

Far from brief, the time left
when viewed in the past.
A lifetime to shape a future,
with no end in sight.

Shorter now, it seems.
The slideshow of bygone images
little more than a time-lapse,
details fewer each day.

Shorter still, ahead.
The end on the horizon,
while goals slip beyond,
their time misspent, gone.

Beneath the Waves

Nearly whispering, I say,
“Every wave that ever passed over
this shell is held inside for you to hear.”

Eyes wide, you ask, “When I get bigger,
can I dive with you and hear the shells in the water?”
And so your thirst for knowledge was born.

Yours is now a world of numbers,
but you have known wizards and knights,
poetry and prose, music and art.

And, from time to time,
you still hear the waves
washing over that shell.

In the Dark

What transpires in a week? In a month?
You show a different face, revealing more, yet less.

There is a cloud hanging over you. Below,
around you. Are there secrets you would share

under different circumstances? The greater the light,
the less I know of you. Are you more open to another,

while I am left in the dark? You make no promise
I’ll see you this evening. We play this game,

you keeping your distance as I try to read you, each day
the window ever smaller, till you fade from sight, again.

Passing Madness

There’s a madness to it
this rush to color

From a blanket of green
to red

blazing orange

and, finally,
to brown

We are seasoned in this experience

And so we wait
for the return of green

Until, once again,
the madness of color
that marks the passing of the seasons

Path to Winter

golden leaves
warm light on cold day
honeyed tea

maple leaf
on path to winter
will not wait

fallen leaves
carried by river

bare branches
seen in fading light
shorter days

single leaf
clinging stubbornly
winter wind


Ken Gierke has been published in The Short of It, Vita Brevis Press, Silver Birch Press, and Amethyst Review, as well as in The Moons of Autumn from Word Weaving and easing the edges: a collection of everyday miracles, from D Ellis Phelps.  His poetry blog: Ken also had pieces selected for the first anthology – The Sound of Brilliance.


Submissions are now closed but if you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submissions guidelines.


Shattering The Hold


Intensity laced with lunacy; it’s seductively subliminal.
Past hurt swept away by the look masquerading as deeply in love.
It’s not love.
It’s danger.
And it easily has you.
If you are not careful.
Psychological warfare playing out in the depths of your mind.
Don’t be deceived by the charm of the snakes, the force of the demanding ones
or the egos of those where clever observation never occurs.
They will hurt you.
Maybe not right away, but they will.
The scars of learning are deep and never healing.
See it before it gets a hold of you.

Originally published 10/22/16 on PhiloSusi.  Re-posted with minor revisions 8/10/2018 on I Write Her.

Reblogs – Tien Skye & The Blighters Rock

Both pieces are exquisitely short but pack brilliant messages about the things we love, enjoy, pursue, engage in, and adore. Ultimately, my point of putting these two together is that we, as individuals, decide what ecstasy is to us.

6WSP by Tien Skye

Photo by Janko Ferlic on

locked in a library of freedom

Oracle by The Blighters Rock

in pure ecstasy
the priestess of the serpent
gave destiny pause


having faith is guessing with attitude
but outcomes are always unknown
given a million and one odds
the endless possibilities the variables produce
hearts will break banking on false promises
or lives change for good on a dime
and feel everything in between

life is unpredictable
and indiscriminate
hold on for the wild ride

Reena Saxena


I am no Midas
yet everything I touch now
acquires new meaning
Is it an artist’s vision
or a poet’s call and yearning?


change seeps in
itself in
deep psyche layers
mirrors lie with the same face


memories unfold
-a pressed flower in the book
crushed before its time
I strive to read stories etched
on petals, not the pages


rainbows show
multiple layers,
complex truths
in seven
predefined colors
-I look for what lies beyond


Reena Saxena is a former banker, coach, and writer from Mumbai, India. Published works are available on Amazon – When Time Stopped (Fiction), Com Pen Di Um (Poetry Anthology), Life As It Happens (Poetry Anthology), Basic Banking for Debt Recovery Agents, and E-books on Money Psychology available on the MoneyGoalz website. This is Reena’s first feature on The Short of It.


Submissions are now closed but if you’d like to be featured on The Short of It in the future,
click here for the submissions guidelines.


Reblogs – DoReeMe & A Faded Romantic

The “hotness” of those who ignite us leads us astray but maybe down the path we need to be going? Only time will tell.

Left as Kindling by DoReeMe

For what it’s worth 
I no longer feel 
Unless, your touch alone 
Prodding me 
As deeply as a touch 
Once did 
Beautifully burning 
And timid 
~Losing everything all at once~ 
And there 
In that space 
I come alive 
And ignite 
The air 
You exhale 

A World of You by A Faded Romantic

It only takes 
brief lapse 
in concentration 
a soft slide 
into daydream
a sudden shift 
into imagination 
an easy glide 
into reverie 
an idle fall 
into fantasy 
and I am lost 
in a world 
of you. 

Reblogs – Murray Robertson & Frank J. Tassone

Seasons change, nature matures, and life continues leaving behind memories for us to recall and reflections raising concern.

Colchicum by Murray Robertson

autumn, in our 
garden is still 
a lively place 
things change 
as the light 
begins to fail 
while now, 
honey bees, 
are back 
and colchicum 
suddenly comes up 
(we had forgotten)  
from distant fires 
imported smoke 
has come again 
fueled by  
dry things,  
by some who 
do not care. 
our world burns up 
they think it 
is their world. 
but i don’t care 
whose name 
is on their deed. 
(their smoke is ours) 

il mio villaggio by Frank J. Tassone

a maple-lined street leading 
to the mountains 
I still listen for echoes 
of our children playing