.

Standing alone with my shadow,
watching the sun disappear
Fighting the minutes till darkness,
when you’ll no longer be here

During the day you are with me,
wherever I seem to go
But as the evening is starting,
nothing beside me does show

I thought about writing a poem
something with you I would share
Though as I now look to find you
sadly you’re no longer there

I wonder each night what you’re doing,
who do you follow around
As I just hang around staring
at a blank spot on the ground

I guess you are off with another,
while I’m here holding my pen
Once more to wait on the sunrise,
hoping you come back again

If I were there I would caress your heart
with the thread of a silken cocoon
Stitched now as one on the eve of the weary,
bound by the light of the moon
Careful to touch oh so soft as a feather,
gentle as spider web tears
Keeping you close on the edge of the tomorrow,
shielding your soul from the fears

Dew drop beliefs on the lawn they are waiting,
prisms of lighthearted scenes
Dandelion clouds offer sweet pea protection,
dragonflies float in between
Watching as breezes of painted day whispers
on kite strings of warm summer fire
Sing with the echoes, repeating their sonnet,
offering all you desire

Though all I have is a poet’s conviction,
spilled now in ink penned to share
Hoping on dreams you will rest in the sunrise,
find a few moments to spare
Taking the hand of this forgotten hero,
trusting in him ever true
Open your eyes for a new day is dawning,
written with love just for you

.

Blinded by a
Lack of leadership
Alone on a silent
Corner watching
Kindness take
A back seat as
Needless prejudice
Drives hate
Why does it always
Have to be
Insisted that we
Take sides,
Either…or

.

It has been found that given enough time
failure will find this destined loser
lurking in gallery tints
and water color fault lines

semi gloss replaced by flat

Painting abstract nothings
on a canvas made of words
Broken brushes stain the existing
balance with a voice that collects the remnants

speaking tarnished silver when silence should be golden

Pop art wastelands of dotted balloons
float above the ground where his face falls,
shamed and hidden, in plain sight
with eyes holding quarters of bygone years

melting clocks keep time with his idiocy

Impressionists laugh at his existence
in muted tone chuckles and turpentine snickers
Stretched on easels of dislodged glances
with splattered smocks tied in double knots

one size fits all

This palette of mixed memories
resting on mainstream notions, waits
for the end is sure to come
finding him alone with an empty imagination

and nothing but drop cloth dreams

.

White Cliffs of Dover now sponsored in daydreams
Reading each billboard that rusts on the sky
Checking a map though it’s for the wrong city
She sends a smile to the wink of his eye

Overhead cords hang to signal a stopping
Pulled like a kite that is fighting a breeze
Setting his watch as if time is most urgent
Tiny the gesture to put her at ease

Anxious she strums atop metal and leather
Songs in her head dance at half past the price
Suddenly yanks as the trees are enormous
Grabbing her bag she does not ask him twice

****, screams the brakes and some passengers flying
Coffee and biscuits collide in the aisle
Fixing her hair like a debutante princess
Waits on the door and then exits in style

A tip of his hat to the fatherly captain
Treading deliberate, the stairs leading down
Adjusting his jacket lapels till they’re even
Spun, is her skirt as a fine evening gown

Coughing a hairball, the old engine rumbles
Sigh, moan the bi-folds directed to close
Noticing now that her left hand is empty
Lifting a stone from the shoulder, she throws

Causing a crack in the bug spattered windshield
The bus driver digs for his insurance card
Grumbles a curse word, his bible forsaken
Just a small pebble and not tossed so hard

She stands at the portal awaiting admission
Watches each eye as she fumbles about
Cheers to herself when her fingers meet plaster
Knows all too well it is no time to shout

Apologies gifted like Christmas in August
Promising beer with a head made of foam
When she appears on the exit step lower
In her left hand she now clutches her gnome

Into the lobby of lemon cake ceilings
Chandeliers glisten like ***** champagne
A tap on the bell wakes the concierge sleeping
“That was my dream!” comes his groggy complain

Currency shoveled the counter of granite
Not yet a bride nor a non-shaven groom
Still it is felt like a pink feathered boa
Lovebirds want cages, these two need a room

Holding his hand as they shuffle the staircase
Ornate the copper reflecting her grace
Wearing a smile that is sheepish and woolen
What waits the night paints the look on her face

He calls the bed, fears his ankles are swollen
She shuts the door to their quarters superb
Then slightly opened for placard replacement
Written in English reads, Do Not Disturb

.

Watching her board bathed in fog at the station
Spectacles slide down the bridge of his nose
Usually a blur, not in this situation
Smudges can’t hide every beauty she shows

Lugging a satchel in high heels and cotton
In her left hand rests a statue that grins
Such an odd sight, this her concrete companion
Never you mind as the journey begins

Timidly calling the glass doors to open
Counting his change spread of nickels and dimes
Gasping for breath on a curb painted yellow
Escaping the past, oh those horrible times

Filled every row, ‘cept a seat near the driver
All eyes affixed as the vinyl bench sighs
Kicking her shoes to abbreviate blisters
Freedom is felt in the footwear goodbyes

Nervous he waves from the corner still pacing
Climbing the steps of a Westminster bus
Pulled at his limbs by another intrusion
Faking his mood so she thinks there’s a fuss

Taking a seat between cement and flannel
Rolling his eyes that he don’t mean at all
Watching her lips as she inhales discretely
Feeling his library heart start to fall

She tugs his ear with her thin ringless fingers
Whispers a secret he hopes comes to share
Hides from the window, the vehicle moving
Nary a glance towards the morning sun’s glare

She holds her gnome like her life is depending
When all she needs fills the seat right next door
Porcelain dust on her clothes has her sneezing
Handkerchief offered he nicked at the store

Such is the dream of a bookworm delivered
Finding the chapter he’d thought long ago
Angels and demons and pretzel tan loafers
Potholes and clues juggled way down below

What is this trail winding out to the country
She gives a smile so much more than the fare
Holding on tight to a vested creation
Seeking adventure of those debonair

Here now we find such an unlikely duo
Still in their eyes shines reflections of grace
She has her man and her plan contemplated
He has his heart in the very same place
  
Exhaust fumes emit in a paisley frost pattern
Corduroy sidewalks bid all a farewell
Searching for love is the now destination
What will they find, only time it will tell

And as a western of popcorn persuasion
Into the sunset, they fade in the glow
What once was billed as a short presentation
Nowhere on this page will “The End” now show

.

I stood at the gate
and was shocked to find
the clasp unfastened

It swung freely on its hinges
as if it had not a care
to whom might enter or leave

I looked out towards the horizon
across the wintered over field,
a stark white landscape

I saw nothing but barren trees with
twisted branches creaking,
silhouettes reaching on an opaque sky

I felt scared and nervous, what
would happen now that the entryway
to my life had been left open

Then I felt someone take my hand,
and looking to my right, there you were,
smiling a sunrise on my face

The day began to sing
in sweet breezes, soft on my skin,
gathering warmly in my heart

So I pulled the gate closed,
secured it tightly and felt the first
hint of spring in your kiss

.

It’s better than chocolate cake
drenched in whipped cream
A day off to sleep in
almost until noon
A warm summer day
near a slow moving stream
The stars in the sky
and a smiling moon

The juiciest steak
prepared medium rare
Seeing your team
win the championship
Watching a kite
as it floats in the air
Making a milkshake
and taking a sip

A trip to the beach
with a cooler of beer
Skiing the slopes
on a fresh coat of snow
Expecting rain
but then finding it clear
It’s so much better
I want you know

In case you wonder
what all of this means
What you now see
in the phrases above
Nothing, not even
my wildest dreams
Could ever be better
than feeling her love

Quiet echoes bring the night of cricket song and firefly
as masks of clouded abstract shades intercept
Foaming colors take the eye to moments of shadowed dreams,
crimson plumes beneath a starlit canopy
Footing soft on dry grass down paths not yet worn,
wandering along fence line silhouettes

A golden sphere, above mature pecan trees appears as curtains lift
igniting the northern sky in beaconed majesty
Slowly puzzle pieced mist clears and bursts of color,
rainbows of dark bands announce the arrival
as this evening’s lunar show begins amidst
heavy sighs and mesmerized smiles

Soft in splendor, basking in myth,
the full moon, distant yet touching the soul
This night is shared, beyond horizon’s glare
and focused thoughts of two places, two hearts, one sky
Whispers follow beams of ancient descent, silently finding her,
hoping she will sense and know…that it is this moon that is ours

.

Looking on
this expanse that encircles me,
closing in during open hours,
unlocking doors I can’t seem to walk through
Stairways of rotted, termite eaten steps
each with my name painted on them,
creaking underfoot,
losing to the weight of
long lines at self serve counters
wrapping around as if
nothing is free but here
for some reason it is

And I stand right in the middle
alone in this ocean of faces,
polo shirts and penny loafers
staring at cell phone screens,
calling someone,
talking with their hands,
hands free?
Paying it forward,
coffee for the next guy in line,
but not me

For I am just here, anywhere,
somewhere like this,
a thing plopped down,
fallen from the sky,
splattering on the earth,
consumed by the soil,
muddied footprints and all
trudging through the wilderness,
carving a path of existence
breaking branches and
scattering bread crumbs

Still I am me,
standing tall among the taller,
enjoying the shade,
sipping lemonade and eating apple dumplings,
pushing, not pulling forward,
dreaming, (of course)
regardless of tire tracks and scars
or pointed fingers,
Pounding the pavement,
laying a foundation,
driven beyond

Parking lot base,
asphalt themed destinations,
a checkerboard of last rites and dead batteries,
yellow lines on the horizon,
handicapped up front
Looking out over the valley,
watching the world go by,
admiring the beauty,
loving life,
rejoicing in the fact
that it is all so immensely
vast . . .

as am I

.

A simple line of tree top blush
on painted skies which now perform,
unfolding twilight’s majesty
in balanced view of moments born

~for lonely hearts a foot path makes,
in vision’s quest and sonnet breaks~

Beneath these branches draped of leaves
and cedar scents to fill the mind,
to cast a glance of northern flow
awaiting this which we do find

~a watch face offers in its stare,
a different look yet time to share~

How bright this crown does now appear
above the rim of lost regrets,
igniting lover’s wakened hopes
beyond the shadowed silhouettes

~anticipation breathes in flight,
awash in this sweet glow tonight~

For of this breeze, illumined love
in lighted bloomed chrysanthemum,
enchanted kisses destined flow  
on stardust highways formed as one

~so listen close on feelings meant
and hear these words of love now sent~

As on this night a light does see,
as two hearts dance the evening’s show,
reaching for that full moon waltz,
before our eyes, melodic glow

*~as I now whisper this to you,
forever will my heart be true~

.

My label was showing,
flipping out from behind the collar
of my non-U.S.A. made shirt
Sri Lanka I think,
but I can’t see the back of my neck from here

Perhaps that is why they stare or
maybe it is why they don’t?
Well, that's okay, I’m new here,
first time on this floor
(I pushed the wrong elevator button)

Fancy suits and low cut gowns,
hors d'oeuvres, champagne, noses held high,
some are long ones to look down or up at
“Bat in the cave! Oh, did I say that out loud?
Sorry lady, no I wouldn’t like any avocado"

Whispers, murmurs or just low talking,
there must be a hundred of them
I thread myself through the crowd
making my way to the podium where I speak,
“Hello I am a poet and I’d like to read you something”

A strong gust of wind races against my face,
not air from any open window,
but the breeze created by their mass exodus
as they head for the outdoor terrace
for a smoke or to spit on those below them

Then I saw her, standing in the middle of the room
all alone, staring up at me
Deep brown eyes, dark glistening hair
and a smile that out-beamed the overhead recessed light
“I’d like to hear your poem,” she said in a euphoric voice

I gazed upon her mesmerized, feeling my throat tighten,
sweat appeared on my forehead as I lifted
a slip of paper from my back pocket
I looked it over and looked over at her…again
Then, taking a deep breath muttered,

“I must apologize, for it has become obvious to me
there is no more beautiful poem than the one
standing before me at this very time
To read these words which I have penned
would only pale to this I find”

“Thank you, that is very sweet of you,
would you like to go for a walk in the park?
I’d much rather be outside than inside
and maybe you can read me some
of your wonderful poetry there?”

“I’d love to, but what about them?”
I asked motioning toward the crowd on the terrace
She picked up the tray of sliced avocado, some champagne
and slipped them out the door, then giggled,
“Those insiders will be just fine outside for a while”

As we headed down on the elevator
she leaned up and kissed me
and it was at that very moment, as my heart
was nearly beating out on my chest I knew,
(I had pushed the correct elevator button)

.

I don’t recognize my footprints anymore,
flashcubes and Kodak moments
distort my sight, blinding so  
I barely recognize my name,
as if anyone might call
on the gusts of barren life which hit me full force

Lost in a silent thought  
bouncing from shutter to shutter
blistering paint and chipping sorrows
outside the windows, smeared in tears
now resting on dampened sills
reflecting negative images, as I stare

Photographic headlines swing on wire fences
twisted around overexposed dreams,
rusting in the rain, falling piece by tiny piece
until words read like fragmented sentences
in amber speckles on the walk,  
asking me to believe

A three legged cat begs for a mouse,
yet the only thing held in this trap is me,
a rat in poetic clothing
as Tripod claws at my leathered skin
trying to erase the scars, captured in the lens
which mocks me – say cheese

.

Tweezers work magic,
it doesn’t hurt near what was expected
as the irritant is finally removed
from below the skin

It’s not a void, just a space,
quickly forgotten
soon to be just an illusion,
a rapidly fading echo

Silenced in grey tones
painted on chipped concrete
over dripping graffiti
unreadable at best

Finding sidewalks go both ways,
coming and going
so as not to miss the signs
for merchandise return

Where crowds gather
with department store bags in hand
hoping for a free sample
of the latest kool-aid flavor

While soapbox speakers
boast of past achievements,
wearing armor suits
proven to be defective

Complaining as doorways are boarded up
with rough edged 3/4" plywood,
secured with drywall screws
from the inside

And the world spins,
the sun sets and rises,
because in the end it is just another day,
with one less splinter

.

Drifting on a lonely stream
where lily pads and ripples direct my thoughts
to the promises of a new day

               I dream I am floating in your arms

as currents gently tug
playing solitaire in wishing hands
among glistening diamonds surfaces

               Searching for each desire’s shoreline

while my eyes wander to a place
long of sunrise sparkles
on soft summer murmurs

               Finding your fragrance on a cool wind’s whisper

my heart is drenched,
cleansed in an endless channel
of what your beauty brings to me

               A shady spot among watercolor shadows

writing poetry,
penning my affections in ink traced lines,
renderings of how wonderful my life is

               Since you have washed over me

leaving me breathless,
submerged far beneath drizzled kisses,
saturated in your love