Author

The purpose of this preface is to explain the “why” behind the book. It is written to my readers that could feel like a letter to my friends.
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We live in an age of the ‘Prosaic.’ Our worth is measured in metrics, our time in transactions, and our success in accumulation of the tangible. But in this relentless pursuit of the material, we have begun to lose the very faculty that makes us human: our aesthetic sensibility.
​Vanishing Verses is not merely a collection of poetry; it is a ledger of what we are losing. It is an elegy for the ‘soft and tender’—those fragile emotions that do not build skyscrapers or balance budgets, but which provide the assuring light by which we can truly see one another, by which we can measure the meaning of our existence in a world crafted like a grand illusion.

​As you read these pages, you may notice a sense of disappearance. These poems are ‘vanishing’ because the world no longer provides the congenial soil they need to grow. This book is a sanctuary for the embodied self, a requiem for the unframing of love, and a plea to the reader: Do not let the music stop. Do not let the verses vanish.

Within these pages lies a fading light,
A brief defiance of the coming night.
We dwell within a world of cold design,
Where glass and steel have replaced the vine.
Our hands reach out for things that we can hold,
Exchanging warmth for what is bought and sold.

But what of tears that fall without a sound?
And what of love that seeks no common ground?
This book is born from what we cast aside,
The secret griefs in which our souls reside.
It is a requiem for the ‘Soft and Tender,’
A final spark before the great surrender.
​Read not with logic, nor with grasping mind,
But search for that which we have left behind.
Before the prose consumes the final line,
And human hearts forget their own design.
Turn the page, and let the music play,

Before the verses vanish into grey.