Thursday, August 21, 2008


What will the day bring?
I wonder,
as I sit,
back to the sun
feeling the warm horizontal brush of dawn
ride slowly up exposed vertebrae
Another start,
chance to be useful
to myself, as well as others.

Faced against challenges,
yesterday’s guilt
in lazy repose at my side,
tactfully waiting to pounce,
or pummel into the raw
noon day swelter,
the oath in my resolve.
It seems to ask…
‘what will the day bring?’
A fresh beginning…
or much more of the same
or perhaps,just another ‘nothing at all’.

@Nick Zegarac 2008 (all rights reserved).


with a jolt.
It came to me,
in the hapless,
discarded hours,
caught between distant night
and sad days,
that never might there be a tomorrow,

where mine eyes were shifted,
to the highest peak.
…that perhaps, I was only fit for the toil,
like so many,
and too few.

This great passing cavalcade of time,
slipping unnoticed
rarified by the moment,
as melting snowdrops,
or the last frozen bits of water
distilling into my cocktail.
Inebriating, that is…
until the empty bottom of the glass,
stares back with panged remnant juices,
still clinging about the rim,
as if, to say – ‘this, is not for you’.

@Nick Zegarac 2008 (all rights reserved).


The #9 blood of many
spilled for you
to jostle and suck and rattle
swirls of peppermint
about your woozy tongue.
Sticky, stained lips,
drawing deep the pungent flame
sharp odor, up and into nostrils flair.

Bite down hard,
splitting the atom candy cane crunch

into two…
then four…
then more…
then – none.
Funny, how that little red and white swirl,
stays behind,
in cavities yet,
not fit for the drill.
@Nick Zegarac 2008 (all rights reserved).