One's-self I sing, a simple separate person,
  Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse.

  Of physiology from top to toe I sing,
  Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say
      the Form complete is worthier far,
  The Female equally with the Male I sing.

  Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
  Cheerful, for freest action form'd under the laws divine,
  The Modern Man I sing.

Walt Whitman from "Leaves of Grass"

I just had this light go off
in every brain cell I got
that as a young amorous lad
all full of it with no
other thoughts 'cept
girls and baseball
I might have come across
lustfully
or recreationally
the two )baseball and her moans( did meet,
with Susie in the back seat , in '75,
when I felt I could not hold back
long enough for her
to also reach the top of
Mount Ecstasy,
that is another story
so, several decades have passed
since grand
was
more grandiose, now
more with wisdoms
passions,
than the fertile
fumbling in a Rambler did
back when,
i think of words, and passion
more phonetically
than tactily.
And write as if
the metaphors
might bring the feeling
back.

I sit by the lake,
                                 on the lush green grass,
gently try to break
                                  my inner thoughts,
and silently assimilate
                                 chirping of birds,
rhythmic swaying of trees
                                 by the sweet breeze,
stare at the white cotton clouds
                                 spread on the chimerical blue
and try to soak the pure dew
                    till the morning remains new.

12 roses, full of life
love that is true
it always will be
no pedal shall ever fall.

I want to take
these final moments
to let my eternal passion
fill your maturing ears.

I wish the universe didn't
allow us to cross paths then,
it wasn't the right time
I was ready to embrace again,
                                                                you never had.

If only She had it in her hand
of cards a few more spades
and not so many hearts to play
ours would have never broken.

You were just learning,
while I had just learned
it's unfortunate;
life is full of chance

added with a splash of unseen chance,
ultimately leading souls that were meant
to become a divine alliance
split like the cracks of a desert terrain.

I now realize that time
cannot heal every wound
but, I do know confusion over
lost love.

Sadly much of the time,
She has too much to give
to those not quite prepared
or she mistakes your space

                          for the wrong piece.


when the right heart falls in your
invisible painless tear
and you become overwhelmed
hold onto that soul.

because no one deserves the pain
that occurs when
it is ripped out
from your chest.

love and Art, 1991

h. Holveck