fluffy white clouds play,
sun, their doting mother watches;
darkness: not in thought!

When people ask me
Why poetry
Why not pick a paying profession

Take hold this truth
That I'm laying on you
In which there is a valuable lesson

If you do what you like
You're going to find
Life holds treasure in wonder

Instead of the dough
Taking you out in its tow
And then pulling you under

When you're doing things
Think more the gifts they bring
And not money to be made

When people ask me
Why poetry
Do I really need to say

Silent crier,
These words are for you,
Let them comfort you,
That’s what they’re meant to do,
This trouble that engulfs you,
Won’t last forever,
Happy days that follow,
Won’t stay forever,
In the momentary illusion of fleeting joy and sorrow,
Look up to the sky,
Remember there is tomorrow

Distant mother across the sea
Why have you abandoned me
Though try I might to find my way
I'm tossed by waves of churning grey
I recall your face smiling bright
Now all I see is endless night
Do with me as you did the moon
Piece me back together soon

Even giants
have holes
in their heart,
dark shadows
that haunt
the old parts
split valves
breaking from stress,

big biceps
trained for
self defense
against
a monster
in their past,

chest pressing
the pain
others
were expressing.

But these beasts
do not repeat
the abuse.

They use
the pain,

give it
a new name,

and strive to be
ever better
then the darkness
that conquered
other fellows.

No fear,
just leg day.