My brother and I are drawn to a familiar street,
That saw a young family grow.
Our old street that opened the world to our lives,
Some sixty or so years ago.
Precious memories begin filtering through,
Through the fog of years,, viewing a house we face.
Our old home, a place that once knew us well,
Our roots deep within the soil of this place.
We stand before our old home, our beginning,
Where a man, unknown to us, turns to stare.
My brother, still gazing with yesterday's eyes explains,
"Both of us used to live in there.
He waves us up, asks if we'd like to see inside;
Something gently pulls our hearts.
We begin slipping back in time, entering the house.
Through our old kitchen door, our tour starts.
We are led down the basement stairs, looking left,
Where our mom washed our ***** clothes.
The basement, now finished, but I easily recall,
When these walls were bare and I'd practice my throws.
I also remember we boys circling a small pool table,
Practicing, in hope of beating our dad.
And the large window where a neighbor boy,
Once shattered it with a runaway bike gone bad.
Up the stairs I once painted, walking into the kitchen,
Imagining our mom still cooking at the stove.
Our bedroom, amazed we once shared this tiny space,
That once stored or childhood treasure trove.
The living room too seems tiny where we watched TV,
Played games and had our family fun.
Then we went to the back yard where we would,
Swing, shoot hoops, and a times bask in the sun.
We say goodbye and thanks to the kind man,
Continue around the lake with our walk.
We discuss how generous he was sharing his home
And having such a friendly talk.
We know how lucky we were to again the inside,
And both agree our tour was a blast.
Seeing inside our childhood home again,
Intermingling today with our memories past.
May 21
May 21, 2026 at 3:10 PM UTC
Once again, I'm dreaming, floating in my In-Between.
Eagerly floating in another delicious morning dream.
In this dreamscape, I am not quite in and I am not quite out.
Sometimes is seems like a tug of war or an internal bout.
Within this dream, I'm enjoying a sweet and attractive fruit.
She's playing an enticing love song on her cute, seductive flute.
I'm aware that I've made promises and I know too, so has she.
What is happening in this dream, when awake, an impossibility.
Dreams can slip by our boundaries which normally make us stop.
Dreaming, I feel her soft embrace as my normal barriers drop.
What starts with a tender hug mushrooms into a forbidden kiss.
We fold into each other lost in our urgent, romantic bliss.
Dreaming within the In-Between, I am not helpless or lost.
I am aware of what I do, but unafraid, for here, no moral cost.
I know soon a curtain will fall and I'll awake alone in my bed,
Trying my best to remember, to recall what was done or said.
Reflecting on my In-Between, it can be much more than a dream.
Souls of others may enter, cutting through a dimensional seam.
Loved ones long past seem to reach out with comfort or advice.
Time softly weaving as we visit, our dream feels so very nice.
I don't want to forget these journeys, but so many fade as I wake.
Whether friendly romps of desire, or reunions of love or ache.
In the end, the doorway closes and dreams fall away from me.
Sand castles washed by the waves, crumbling back into the sea.
May 5
May 5, 2026 at 4:27 PM UTC
Gingerly, I pull my old, tattered photo album from my shelf.
Slowly, I open its pages and gaze upon many others and myself.
I gaze at old friends and family, so many, no longer living now.
Such precious memories, almost wishing to relive, somehow.
Photos of the past, frozen, moments now forever standing still.
Precious moments portraying my past life as mostly tranquil.
It's as if life were a fluffy cloud dancing across a summer sky,
Twisting, turning, forming, until click, caught by the cameras eye.
I am an old man now; as I turn each page there comes a thought.
How marvelous photos are, letting us to view a moment caught.
Photos, common now, but in eras past, might seem like magic.
For one to see oneself as a child again, what a startling trick.
Viewing photos from before our time, showing others of long ago,
I imagine entering each frozen moment with them, as it were so.
Without ever knowing them, I can see how easily I could belong,
And melt into each past tapestry, as if I were part of their song.
Closing my album, I exit this journey, returning to where I began.
Viewing such photos, I feel more connected to this divided span.
Like ice cubes, photos cool life's drink, making them taste better.
Holding these photos feels like finding a precious long lost letter.
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 11:48 AM UTC
I was traveling to Fort Huachuca,
filled with with anticipation and excitement.
Army training over, I traveled southwest,
to the third fort I'd been sent.
It was Sunday, due there Monday,
duffle bag filled, I hardly had a care.
As with my prior two forts,
I expected the Army Service Club to help me get there.
Looking forward to my new Army base,
I sat back, relaxed and enjoyed my flight.
I arrived at Tucson right on time,
happy with everything turning out just right.
A sign pointed to the Service Club,
I turned and quickly rushed to the second floor.
The place was locked with a closed for the day sign,
I stood frozen at the door.
There had to be a courtesy phone to the fort,
expecting travelers like me.
I searched everywhere, no phone found:
this was not how I expected it to be.
I kept looking for some information or directions
on how soldiers get to the fort.
Worry turned to fear, what should I do?
It was seventy miles from the airport.
No matter what I did, I felt stuck in a box,
which simply had no way out.
My feet glued to where I stood;
a panic still growing as I turned my head about.
A General and a young man quickly walked past,
on their way to their flight.
I stood bewildered as more people passed me,
confused with my hopeless plight.
The General's companion returned then,
asked if I was lost or had a problem now.
I told him I had orders to go to Fort Huachuca,
and was confused, not knowing how.
He said I was on my own, the fort offered no help.
I felt something in me up and died.
He'd driven the General from the fort.
He was returning there, then offered me a ride.
Relief, thanks, and joy erupted in me,
as I followed him to his old battered car.
He said the only transportation to the fort
was driving, the distance being so far.
The relief I felt as we drove away was immense;
I felt saved from a hopeless plight.
Be it luck, providence or serendipity,
it felt as if the source was a spiritual light.
While driving, he shared how much he despised
the very fort waiting for me.
He hated it so much he climbed the mountain
with the forts insignia and did ***
He stopped at my company, pointed out the door
and directed me to the room I needed to go.
I eagerly gave him gas money and told him,
he helped me more than he'd ever know.
I wonder how I would have managed,
had he not offered to drive me with his car.
I knew no one there, had no credit card,
was short on money for a taxi to go that far.
And even if I got to the fort,
how would I know where to go and where report?
What a nightmare it could've been,
if not for a chance meeting at the Tucson airport.
Apr 25
Apr 25, 2026 at 5:50 PM UTC
Walking through life to the beat of my own drum.
Unconcerned if it jives with the guitar you might strum.
It bothers me when others tell me how I should be.
"Sorry, I really don't care, I want to be me."
You say I spend too much of my time watching TV.
Or what I am doing is wrong, you say, "Try being like me."
I'm told to get up earlier and I should not stay up so late.
I should spend more time with others, learn to better relate.
I'm told I need to dress more in fashion to better to fit in.
And I should act more like others if I really want to win.
And to choose better friends, not those barely getting by.
Rub elbows with winners; I could be more like them if I try.
But I really don't care, no I really don't care.
Frankly, not accepting who I am is a little unfair.
Please listen, I want to be me, whether I succeed or fall.
And frankly, like it or not, in the end, it's really my call.
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 9:34 AM UTC
I tasted heaven today.
When I closed my eyes,
Took one last deep breath
Calmed my limbs,
And began floating in quiet.
From the darkness came bright stars,
I imagined they were the souls of my friends.
A cradle of warmth,
A kleidoscope of beauty
And in its reflection, I see myself.
A heavenly rain strokes me,
Bathing me in love,
Engulfing me,
Memories spinning, washing me,
Swallowing me in joy.
As my lungs burn, begging for air,
A deep breath fills my lungs,
Coaxed by life's longing.
With a wisp of Heaven's fragrance,
Eyes reopen; I smile.
Apr 12
Apr 12, 2026 at 9:00 PM UTC
Stuck in a lonely corner, eyes fixed upon the ground.
Reliving a yesterday once again, as if recently found.
An oppressive tape replaying, over in my mind.
Continuously repeating itself, as if stuck on rewind.
It has been ages past, why won't it let me be?
A vice turning tighter, squeezing cheer and comfort from me.
Her words, so harsh and unfair, still follow me about.
My mind rocked, now locked, I struggle to keep them out.
Repeatedly turning the page has failed, the page so worn.
So weathered and discolored and so sadly torn.
I can't get past her persistent cruelty; what was her final goal?
Inflicting such a wretched folly upon my weary soul.
As time ever flows, it becomes obvious and clear.
The more I try burying the past, the more it stokes my fear.
It is time to soothe this festering sore with a healing balm.
This storm within needs to rest, and bring a welcomed calm.
Apr 8
Apr 8, 2026 at 7:35 PM UTC
Wondering what lies beyond,
When we look up at a bright star.
We've been told they go on and on,
But no one can tell us how far.
Do they keep on going and going?
Or could it be as I fear?
Simply an optical illusion toying,
As if gazing through a mirror.
Continuing to half the distance to a wall,
A teacher said we'd eventually touch.
Common sense says, "no, not at all".
There'd always be space, though not much.
Just like the stars, there is no way to know
Each may or may not reach an end.
Many will accept the status quo,
But others, like me, struggle to comprehend.
We accept journeys have a start.
Stars, we say may forever ascend.
Yet in our world, whatever departs,
We expect that there be an end.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 12:58 PM UTC
Behind my stubborn door,
With no ceiling and no floor.
No way in and no way out,
Your voice within cannot shout.
You'll be alone, sometimes lying prone.
Should you turn around, there's seldom sound.
Though you seek a key, none will set you free -
Only me, yes... only me.
My castle I have built is made of dirt.
Its only purpose is to cause you hurt.
I wound the ones who have no doors,
And trouble those with broken floors.
And if there is a light in sight,
It flickers cold and shines black-bright.
You cannot flee -
Can't you see?
You're powerless
To escape from me.
Behind my frozen door;
With no ceiling and no floor;
Nowhere to go, nothing to show,
There is no up, there is no down -
All travelers here wear a frown.
Those who long to be set free
Have learned my name, Misery.
Apr 3
Apr 3, 2026 at 2:56 PM UTC
I've wandered by the river's edge,
And strolled down by the sea.
Yet I've never known such joy,
As when you walk with me.
I need no moonlight shimmer,
Nor waters shining bright.
For your warm and gentle smile,
Tickle my insides with delight.
Once more you've unlocked my heart,
I'm so lucky you found the key.
I lose myself within your eyes.
Each time you walk with me.
Apr 1
Apr 1, 2026 at 7:16 AM UTC