Drink.      Though I do.
Smoke.      Tell me about it.
Make money.    Story of my life.
Prophesise.    It's too cloudy.
Philosophise.    In a way.
Columnise.    Working on it.
Be right.   Got over that at sixty.
Be high.   It never lasts.
Make peace.  ****, I'm too angry.
Be young.   See above.
Be humble.    I love me.
Be graceful.     At sixty?  Really?
Be positive.  Depends on polarity.
Eat healthy.   I do had whole grain bread pizza today.
Be lovely.  Not in my mirror.
Be kind.  Depends on my moods.
Love unconditionally.  Trying to.

Once
     I was a dunce but
In my head I had
       Arranged
This view of
       Me supreme superior
 In order
        To hide from being
Inferior.
      So deranged I was
I invented my purpose.
      Which was, to be honest,
A ploy to hide
        Myself in shadow.
And then I met the one
       Who sang my praise
Like I had done.
       I was amazed
She really believed
       In me. How numb
I felt to her touch
       Until I looked
Into her eyes.
        And knew.
She actually believed
      In me. Knew all
My secret peculiarities.
      But, she, my angel
From  above loved
       Me unconditionally.
And there I now know
      Because of her,
All of me
        Is all of her.

Never titled a poem
Love
Before wondered
Would I ever
now that I have
I have to title
All my poems
forever, Love.

I’m making a boat
nailing driftwood together
maybe I’ll make it across
and maybe I won’t, you know
because nothing floats forever
still, it’s good wood to toss
on a pyre when I’m standing
by a fire over on Odin’s
Valhalla’s Landing.