I am thinking to invite you for a cup of tea

      i  imagine how
                            slow
                                    the teapot will boil
                                                              on the stove

the steam will colonize the air in the room ~
                                                          conquer the silent walls

politely
          we’ll sit near the window at the little oak table
will
    support our elbows,
                                    hands ~  the chins,
    face-to-face,
                          like a frozen perfume
                                                            in the air,
reading into each other's eyes
                                                  ~ the dreams

after,
        watching how the leaves are falling
                                                                as if fainting

pocket full of pennies
rolling across the kitchen floor,
down the steps, out the door,

pennies running into the street
(and i'm right behind them.)

"where do you think you are going? and
I m feeling a bit embassed, so i whispered.
"you belong to me,

to keep or to throw away." and

there s a light tap on my shoulder,
and the policeman tells me,

"better find them soon
before they turn to rust,

I couldn't find mine
and I'm sure they turned into dust."

and the echoe from the hole
in my pocket shouts,
" his dreams are
trying to find the waterline."

i did find a few of them, a handful,
(I had swiped my hand as they tried to roll away)

I did grasp a few

but some of the other
pennies i threw into the air
where they may have fallen,
I know not where.

When anger and hatred
flow through your veins,
let love reign.
On gentle Spring nights when
memories haunt you like
the lost dead,
let love reign.
When stress and confusion
overwhelm you and the
future seems as
uncertain as a roll
of the dice,
let love reign.

When you think God is
a grand prankster and
it feels like an
eternal winter in
your heart,
let love reign.
When the pictures remind
you of times long gone,
and the mirror is
a hard place to live,
let love reign.

If you get lost,
like I do in a
poem or a song,
let love reign.
In my dreams, I will
see you, and kiss you,
and hold you forever,
and there will be no
good-byes
only good mornings,
if we let love reign.

I miss you
I love you
I’m drunk
and I can’t think straight

My world is falling apart
Because I can’t stay sober without you

I want to write a poem about Palestine
but I have no words.
The nouns are drenched in blood.
The verbs are obscene
and the adjectives unspeakable.
The sentences have no end
and there is no punctuation.
I am having trouble pronouncing
my own name.

the crazy men
they carry me away
up and over
around a bend
and then back again
the crazy men
they carry me away
and i finally feel free

a single word,
rejiggered
refound in the endless, floundering
someday~possibility bin of my
unbalanced brain, noted forlornly
on March 13, 2017@5:28 pm, the
trigger unpulled, the triggering,
long forgot, but my sense of duty
quizzes me, howling,
“how long you gonna run
that body’s words~worthiness down,”
leaving it orphaned, I’m surrounded
by finger pointing, some grand waggling,
and my genetic J-guilt is overwhelming,

rejigger my schedule,
rejigger my responsibilities,
email excuse~me apologies

and think upon the vastness
of the worded task, an eleventh
commandment that requests
a close examination of your
life’s intentions, and begin to
curse my two thumbs stumbles
in to files, chapters, notions
best forgotten for reasons quite
good enough

**** this uncovery discovery
and my sense of injustice that
now condemns both of us to a
tirade of remorse reminiscences
removal and so many re-verbs
-erations shaking me up that
this task now demands is
an old battleship
recommissioned,
a ship now
forced from retirement,
wantingretrofitting,
when I’m, my useful life
way past
my/our sell/use-by-date

so I do what any good theater loving
fool do, start singing
“Tomorrow, Tomorrow,
you're only a day away”

and beg for a one day extension,
a 24 hour forgiveness pass,
cause pressing matters
demand my immediate attention, like
finishing my epic life’s œuvre littéraire!

“How I Procastinated My Life Away”