It’s a random sunny Tuesday afternoon after school and
I’m back on the ground on our first day in Seattle skipping across sidewalk cracks in the rain bouncing like a pair of lips across your cheeks in the morning

We’re landing with foot splashes in puddles and just missing others experiencing a combination of cold and wet we haven’t felt before

We’re a fresh dose of happy rolled into clouds of grey like M&M’s in fresh cookie dough
As we just catch our ferry across the Puget and we’re on our way:
Allons-y, let’s go!

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, February, 2018




Along the Thames along the Thames
The push of the World moving along
Barges pulling cargoes
Captains of Industry taking a break from lifting pounds to lunch
Pigeons puzzling over scraps of scones on the sidewalk
Poets taking pause to observe to breathe
To smell the fishy salty briny browns:
To feel the feels of the pulse of the City
Floating heartbeats aboard the Tate to Tate

Painting word pictures on a phone
After viewing Rothko in a room of Rothko’s
Crimson blacks and brownish browns
Subtleties of meanings wrapped in colour

Four seasons spread across the walls of a room inside the Boiler House Level 2 East with two and a half inch slat unfinished scandalized oaken floors that creak with each step whether sandals boots or soft soled walking shoes

As a young girl makes a game of triggering the alarm her father ignores
And a baby cries and a woman sleeps or meditates on the contoured teak bench
Arms crossed, crisscrossed arms
Within a view of Monet’s lilies
Floats floats floats
Along the Thames along the Thames

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, July, 2017, London.




He left a bit of himself inside
Along with his shadow,
Umber-ish greys of yesterday

Peeking through the sublime mould of today
Like a scholar of the school of Structuralism

Pieces of concrete and the separate elements thereof:

Water, aggregate-rock, sand, gravel
And Portland cement

He’d become CONCRETE

And the

Shadowy dust landing on frames of Monet’s lilies
Rothko’s room of 9

Blown away by the lusts of patrons
For something more
Beyond the humma drumma of
Daily life cat call whistling
On Tottenham Road

Slacks set over the ankle
Sporting colourful
Socks painted over
Cloudy internal voices:

A memory to be returned to as the hours turned into days turned into months turned into

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, September 1, 2017



Black swan tail feathers pushed up like the soft petals of a black rose
A day’s lazy walk through
Hyde Park Green Park and St James

Like the black epaulets of the Royal guards
Blue-green waters of a St James pond
Reflecting dreams in red white and inlaid gold

Self said
Soft spoke
Soul whispers of today and yesterday
Of the morrow wrapped in a dream floating
Down Diana’s font.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, July, 2017, London


Washington Square

As i walked from Strand Bookstore with my fresh copy of O’Hara in my pocket,
The shorter buildings of Union Square and East Village brought solace
After the crush of Mid-Town’s scrapers covering up the sky stirred up old anxieties

Ahhhh…Washington Square just outside 1 Mews where I was one year ago today
When the drops of fountain water felt like a sweet baptism-
That relief so absent in this moment,

And there He was:

He’s a multi-coloured Pomeranian she said
His tufts of hair blowing over his forehead like
A Donald Trump toupee,
His cool calm loins spread out on the sidewalk,
His name is Tuxedo, she said

And I couldn’t get past the contrast-
Tuxedo dressed so cool and calm,
hair blowing in the breeze,
Me wilting sweating melting-
A strawberry ice-cream in a sugar cone,
Slipping falling

Becoming a pigeon’s sticky footprint on the stoney hexagons concrete,
Those pink flowers by the fountain whom I have yet to meet
Seeming to be, right now, in this moment,
Doing so much better than me.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, June, 2017, New York City, NY.


Estival Solstice

The day appeared on the horizon like a baby born breech
The orange, tepid sun peeking through cirrus clouds
With a new seriousness

Obviating with curiosity in a black mist floating over an obscured view of the slivery moon
Sliced into wisps of light by a man with a scythe

A dark Dublin Bay quaking with remorse
Over deeds undone
Words un whispered
Love not shared.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, June 21, 2017. Happy Summer Solstice!

Scheveningen Beach

The cobalt steel blue waves washed over the anthracitic sand spilling foamy temptations across Scheveningen Beach  like white seed across my belly

Stepping over seaweed parts of plastic sand toys empty mollusk shelters broken barnacles and
bivalve remnants of razor clams posing as shells of memory

The ferris wheel spinning slowly like a windmill in one of Van Ruisdael’s landscapes powered only by the salty air
While i kept my eyes pushed wide open straining to see the possibilities that lie beyond the reaches of the pier and my own snow blind solemnity.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, March, 2017 on reflection of a trip to The Netherlands and visits to Amsterdam, The Hague, Scheveningen Beach, and Haarlem.