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I close my eyes and

see him running

through sun-dappled fields

golden rays glinting,


around his laughing face

his light giggles skittering

along green grasses

small legs kicking

across the field

chasing butterflies and

other children

His mother is ever over him

His father is always present

catching him

in the inevitable autumn

while he is

smiling wide

always free

and all his days

are a waking dream

You Need To Diversify Your Portfolio

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It’s been three years now. For three years I have been offering freelance writing services to any who need a talented writer, and I have found my way into some pretty interesting places.

I started as a journalist writing for newspapers and websites, and now I have branched out to content writing, blogging, PR, and copywriting. Early in my career I figured out that if I want to make a decent living at this freelance writing game I have to do a lot more than just write for newspapers. That medium has outlived its usefulness as the world increasingly goes digital, so the market for freelance work in the journalism industry seems to get smaller every day. Journalism still has a lot of value for freelancers in that it puts your byline in front of a lot of people, especially if you’re writing for a national newspaper as I have. I have several clients who found me after reading one of my features in the National Post.

Today, I don’t seem to do much journalism stuff at all. The bulk of what I do now is content and copywriting. I don’t get any bylines, but that’s okay since I have accumulated enough clips and I am making a much more stable income with what I’m doing now. Even still, I need to diversify further. I need to add more skills to my suite of services. Read the rest of this entry »

Her Divine Sigil

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Her Divine Sigil

Her lips are carmine

and I would stick to them

like caramel

if I could

It would

brand me like a lava flow

mark me like a bull

and I’d wear it like a laurel

a shining crown jewel

It would be my gilded armour

in trouble lands

a sigil of her divine protection

and a ward against hell with all its

insidious inventions

It would be

panacea to my plague

ambrosia to my famine

deluge to my desert

Just one taste of

her scarlet lips

under the blessing of

her covenant

and the sacred sacrament of

her mouth

would fill me

like sunlight

Still the Fear

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Still the Fear

There is still

the fear of this

ending at a river bank

my net empty and blades


It is the hunter’s plight

of hunger

like hanging from cliff

there are few sands in

the hourglass

tracing your tracks in

jungle mud my

heartbeat goes


fires the blood

fires the hunt

fires my heartseeker into your

-oh yes-

guides my serrated head

singing like sirens

into your deep red

into the sweetest kill

but still,

the fear

beating forward

on the trace of your scent

an echo of your laugh

a remnant of your flesh

always still, the fear

around and behind

haunting and exciting

I don’t want this

to end

I want to

feel you near

but I hear the sound of

rushing water

not far ahead

The Lioness

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The Lioness

She is a lioness


through marshes and glades

with eyes

sharper than blades

and a killer instinct

kills with her looks

that is:

her gaze is amber fire

and admiring her

you pursue

with cunning a glance


you advance

knives out

for the sweetest kill

but each tooth is a lance

in the lion’s mouth

her words flow dark


powerfully fierce and


She is a lioness

from a faraway place

beautifully deep and

endless in grace

an exotic traveller

looking for a place to lay down

You set your knives down


there is no room for war

in a life that is

so short