.

Raising his hand
moving from the desk
as spitballs fly
and notes are passed

Chasing his tale
in make believe endings
with a princess in pink
draped on his arm

snickers and snorts bellow
his train of thought
traveling off track temporarily,
temporarily  

Dancing at midnight
drifting the seasons
on a feather boa mattress
pearlescent skin and fingers

silence gathers around
heavy breaths float
eyes squint, trying to focus
not his, theirs

Drawbridge openings explored
present tense heartbeats
sundown desires drip
saturating the scabbard

Homework is sidelined
jealous boys, intrigued girls
as curiosity peaks and biology
is not just a subject anymore

at the front of the classroom
writing in black chalk
so the rest of the class
cannot see

but he can

*oh he can

.

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

.

Dear Patient,

Here’s the prescription
I promised to write
Just like any doctor might do

An extended leave
A southern location
A room with a beautiful view

A candlelit dinner
Moonlight and roses
A bottle of chilled chardonnay

Romantic music
Soft summer kisses
Sending your worries away

The one of your dreams
An evening together
Love on a warm summer night

A sunrise good morning
Breakfast in bed
Satin sheets woven in white

A day in the sun
Drinks on the river
Affectionate moments for two

Take all you need
There’s no expiration
Unlimited refills for you

Signed,
Your Poetic Physician

.

You were skipping stones

and as I watched
a slowly arching ripple

gently kissing the shore

I found myself wishing
I was that ripple

and you were that shore

.

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

Warning: This is a political rant so beware as you read.

.

One hundred and fifty billion
(another 1.3 billion reported today 8/25/16)
and four hundred million…in cash
To an enemy who views women as slaves,
second, no third class (not even sure “citizens” works here)
Makes soldiers of children/babies
Funds terrorist organizations
who’s goal it is to eradicate Israel
and the United States or anyone else
who doesn’t share their beliefs

What is our response?
Blank checks for death and (lives)
and the signers smile,
lie, (it wasn’t a ransom) smile, lie (what emails?), smile
(Oh crap, they found more)
Why am I humming "Lying Eyes" right now (sorry Eagles)
The one in office
and the one who wants to be,
who stands for women’s rights…huh?
(See lines 4 and 5 in the first stanza)
WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE?

Yet all the media can do
is bash someone with a big mouth
Who shouts, points fingers,
makes accusations, demands that laws be obeyed
wants to protect us, is a racist
(because he calls someone of Mexican heritage a…Mexican)  
Wait, what?
Incites passion and feelings in supporters
who are colored (that’s not racist, is it) as crazy,
losers, deranged, cry babies (Phew, at least not soldier babies)
Because they want something different
Something different…so different,……..like the truth?
(That would be different)

When the rich dude is tagged
#The top recruiter for a terrorist organization
Ha, ha, that’s funny, nice one
Let’s all have a nice laugh, there is nothing wrong with that
High fives all around, media parties ensue
But when he brands those two the founders
and co-founders of the same org.
Whoa, shut the front door, wash your mouth out with soap
Sit in the corner, get a psyche evaluation
Who would say such a thing
Only an insane person, only a loonie, (no offense Canada)
What has this world come too?
Check the news, they’ll let you know (their side)

Still there are those who fight
for their rights to place some of those blank checks
in their pockets, SOLD!!! And the gavel comes down
Who owns who? Should anybody own anybody?
China is fine on nice linen where Russia serves the good *****,  
but that is of no special interest to you or me,
that’s what raising Taxes is for…right?
And hell we can build our own babies,
we have the parts and they are paid for...
by those “T” things I mentioned a few lines above  

Reminds me of another song, let me see,
"Four dead in Ohio" yeah, that's it, CSN &Y;
but it's not, is it?  Something like...
"Four dead in Benghazi" Now there's a song for her,
Dead soldiers and someone's calling
when she's asleep all alone
**** it, one of you answer that thing,
It's the ambassador on the phone...(again)
Just say it's a video,
just say it's a video,
four dead in...
CAN'T HE SEE I'M SLEEPING?

Oh and we all need a firm, sturdy,
corrupt (did I say that out loud?)
foundation to administer favors,
show preferential treatment,
to stand on to count the profits
from the pay to play scheme
Who cares if it is foriegn,
that stuff works just as good a U.S. cash
and besides we need all we can get,
we've got Bill's (women) to pay, and maybe to build those
5 houses in Haiti, maybe...and don't forget
the yoga classes and wedding arrangements,
that stuff ain't cheap
Oh, did I mention that some of the countries paying for
this stuff treat women like crap? Just checking.

Parading around in a stained blue dress,
(no, no, no, that was that other chick)
promising what, where, when, HOW?
"Promising" huh...what's that?
(I always thought it was something you should keep)
Hand outs, free lunches
(but I thought there was no such thing as a free, oh never mind)
That must be it, it must be,
because I can think of no other reason
to support terrorism, to support the lies
and the smiles (and you know I am a smile guy)

Wake up people, (including politicians in the same party)
quit hitting the snooze button over and over and over,
open your eyes, see the light while you still can
For the people, by the people,
Now there’s a novel idea, what a concept
But what am I thinking…I am the enemy,
I am a member of the…middle class,
I should just learn to keep my big mouth shut…YAWN

"Put that in your basket of deplorables and smoke it"

(I was going to send this in an email, but it got deleted with all of the rest of them)  

**My name is Stephan and I approve this poem

.
In a cavern long about the edge of time
dwells a sadness deep upon my heart,
where fragments of my imagination
cry out from a desolate vault,
iron clad and riveted
of a stone mason’s might
Welded shut, encrusted with fear
and loneliness in unsealed envelopes
addressed to someone other than me

Where neighbors retrieve and process,
regardless of names and stamped signatures,
unwilling to pay the postage now due
of an encased memory shoveled
away to linger on each crow’s feather
that falls from the reaches far above my head,
dropping square tears from round eyes,
mapping my cheeks
in solitary traces of vertical weeping

Self imposed some may say,
and they could be correct, though
when it comes to forgotten, that heart of gold,
worth more than its weight in life,
pays more attention to the fate of others
than collecting breaths of this or any
next door, across the fence wisdom
For if they hurt, those who shouldn’t,
then what is the use

With heavy stone in hand I tap,
loudly on the reinforced tarnished structure
in a series of dots and dashes,
rhythmic chaos to some,
but patterned to the beat of my heart
saying, you are loved, you are cherished,
you are needed and most importantly,
you are not alone, hoping the chanting echoes
land upon listening ears,
and you can smile once more
and I can feel it

.

Drizzle coated the billboard
sitting on that desolate stretch of highway
waiting for someone to read
or at least hide behind, parked car, back seat
steamed windows, sighs just above a holler,
a collar unbuttoned,
casual abundance with the radio on
seeking a Clapton tune
as nimble fingers
show the difference between a slow hand
and a destined position,
where rain doesn’t matter
because it I just as wet inside
though hotter than an August day,
perspiring in the friction
as love hits the four way flashers
blinkers accelerate, left, right, faster,
names are called, tears are cried
and the road home now beckons . . .

Melodious tides serenade along a foam dipped coast line,
we drift as a single composed symphony,
seduced by a pounding surf, its sensuous rhythm pulsates
flooding our hearts, aching to collide
in the tempo of a lone torrent’s embrace

Scorching August passions seize the moonlit sand,
palm tree shadows dance atop sultry weathered dunes
of lemongrass and saw palmetto,
on saltwater breezes moaning our names, mellifluously
from a distant cantata's horizon

Warm dark *** skin intoxicates, I stagger,
lost in hypnotic topaz eyes, reflective pleadings
of deeper desires sought, fingertips probe sun softened locks,
nightshade tresses, mingling with a rippled surf
as stardust illumines moist swollen lips, parted  

Harmonic waves wash atop entwined silhouettes
nearing a crescendo, a pinnacle of pleasure,
where secrets are revealed in half swallowed sighs  
on this coastal haven when voices sing in
throaty whispers of impassioned ecstasy

Now as heated breaths hover beneath the moon’s glowing stare
we too build and recede, feeding our amorous desires
as the fading night relinquishes its hold and dawn cracks the sky
Our tide becomes one, our union remains unbroken,
our love, eternally bound by the melody of the sea

.

Laundry detergent
and love, broken hearted
Dark nights and witches
and dearly departed

Death in the front yard
with bright flowers blooming
Winter and summer,
all seasons are looming

Fireflies, evergreens,
balloons colored yellow
A beautiful woman,
an old grouchy fellow

The sun and the moon
and the stars that are shining
Laughter and teardrops,
occasional whining

Sunrises, sunsets,
the beach and the ocean
A walk in the park
or a magical potion

A bird on a fence
or a babe in a cradle
The dish and the spoon
ran away with a ladle?

*** that is sensual,
pain that is hurting
Humor and drama,
some things I am blurting

Long ones and shorts ones
and some in between
A king in a castle
defending his queen

Rhyming and free verse,
it’s endless and mounting
Ten words or haiku
and syllable counting

Written out stanzas
of how we are feeling
Even an orange
that someone is peeling

Riding a horse
or just crossing a river
Feathers and leaves
and all things that do quiver

So many thoughts
I have found that are waiting
Here on this site
there is no hesitating

To all the poets
with pens always bleeding
Thank you so much
for the poems I’m reading

For all of you
that I get to call friend
Here is a poem for you
I have penned

.

Somewhere beyond today

the future slow dances with fate

as our hearts sing
in harmony

with yesterday’s love song
played to the melody of

all of our tomorrows

.
Like an answer it calls,
loud voices of the inspired,
sipping coffee cups
Picking moments like fresh corn,
hoping for the sweetest
Falling into space
in tiny squares of who we are
lost in words
Requested visits due in time
as the door opens,
the mat is clean…WELCOME

Breathing in search of dreams
Still dark outside as
bright light finds me
and I am here
Where I belong…mostly
Some love me, some don’t
some don’t care one way or the other,
but they are all poets,
sharing thoughts and ideas,
well wishes flourish
and sometimes anger, softly ranting

Adventures become lone wanderings,
lush floral habitats
with gardens of fragrant ideas
battling the weeds of yesterday,
still beautiful when woven
in the serendipity,
sown of long ago experiences
and tomorrow’s promises
for those eyes drifting
line to line from
time to time

Human beings, trapped in a world…
not trapped, (that was wrong) found living,
touching others and soothing hearts
Examining feelings with magnified senses
Skipping from here to there,
dressed up for an evening in
Finding direction and offering it
Poetry, it is our blood,
the rivers we float on hand in hand
till we reach the falls
and go headfirst into our own written paradise

Peaceful intentions
in sarcastic sneers
Fall to the gutter
and not to their ears

Promises broken
like pieces of glass
Shatter the spirits
in moments that pass

Playing the victim
outside in the rain
Never once feeling
the other one’s pain

Pushing the limits
while swearing it’s true
Look in the mirror
you won’t like the view

.

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

.

*Straight from my anchored heart,
somewhere off the coast of your beauty
Floating on salt laced breezes,
waves of seascape affection,
mother of pearl wishes
sealed within a glass bottle
follow the tide to your feet,
nestled in the cool wet sand

Inside rests sunrise words
expressing my love in
unyielding ocean desires
on the crest of your island smile,
written in my trembling hand
of deep fathomed longings
and coral reef dreams,
for your eyes only

.

I punched the sun
and burnt my hands,
they blistered ‘fore my eyes

Because I want
just cloudy days
to fill my sorrowed skies

I used to like
the daylight hours
before she went away

Now I just can’t
accept the sun,
I want a cloudy day

And evening
doesn't help at all,
if it is coming near

Because I know
there’ll be a moon
upon the heavens clear

So I’ll keep punching
at the sun
with burns upon my skin

Until I can’t
fight anymore
or clouds return again

Promises in a burlap bag
slung over your shoulder
offering three for dollar
(I've already heard it twice before)
Maybe this time I will be lucky

I found a penny heads up,
but didn't have the sense to pick it up

Still an echo spins atop a broken record
repeating the same chorus
no matter what song is playing
that all are tired of hearing by now

Oldies but goodies are just as bad
as the first time you heard them

Spinning yarns
in coloful fabric weaves,
braided possibilities that never
seem to shrink in the wash

The button for gentle cycle
broke a long time ago

But there is always that chance
when we lean on words
hoping they support the message
delivered once again

*Chances are like matches,
using the last one is always bad luck

I love my dreams
for they show me the places
Mystical scenes
filled with beautiful faces
Sherbet and rainbows
like waves in the summer
Playing electric guitar
with a drummer
Floating on clouds
above rivers of jelly
Limburger cheese
that is never once smelly
Stairways to heaven
that I might be singing
Picnics on Thursdays
and plastic bells ringing
Grapevines and flowers
and candle light dining
Beneath a moon
that is forever shining
Holding her hand
through the park we are walking
Hearing her whisper
"I love you" while talking
Kissing her lips
in a soft tender fashion
Seeing her smile
and feeling the passion
Spending the rest
of my days with her sharing
No longer worried
if someone is caring
Happiness follows
wherever I’m going
And how the look
on my face it is showing
I love my dreams
but awake I am weeping
Because my dreams
only come while I’m sleeping

.
*I’ve not the time nor moments free
to flail about in wayward flow
Or dance the streets in cobbled glee  
with steps that I no longer know

To walk among the falling leaves
in colors painted autumn past
or sail about the seven seas
from ports o’ call yon ships are cast

Traverse a mountain born of stone
along a pathway’s winding spill
of jagged berth in footprint shown  
I’ve not the strength, nor I the will

To paint a fence of acres far
where cattle graze on sunny fields
or stare upon an evening star
enchanted by the light it yields

For every minute I can find
is spent in endless thoughts of you
To swirl about my focused mind
and every other point of view

To use the ink within my pen
and write the words I’m thinking of
In fine poetic verse I send
my promised and undying love  

So please excuse this horrid mess
as others chose to bother me  
They do not hear what I profess
I’ve not the time nor moments free

What is it about poetry
that so consumes you
Brings you to your knees,
cowering in a corner
of your own delusions
Reading in between the lines,
finding what is not really there
Dropping hints of absurd defiance,
collecting spoonful after spoonful
of puzzled meanings and chaliced dreams

Flowing symbolisms, metaphoric landscapes -
Where bushes are bluebirds
and sidewalks - bridges of no return

Why do you reach
into your pocket, searching for love
on white paper folded into a square,
when all along it faces you -
not in ink, but in smiles
expressing exactly what is felt
No boundaries or disguised emotions
penned in rhythmic sequence,
only true love, standing on this sidewalk -
which is only a sidewalk

What is it about poetry
that so consumes you,
when love is waiting – just outside the lines

Naive is the poet
who thinks what he's written
will capture her heart
with his melodic song

Yes, he was once good
but it all dissipated
when someone much better
just happened along

Now he cries in the shadows,
his pen falling empty,
conceding defeat
to another so new

While all of his dreams
have been left in a poem,
wishes in verses
that will not come true

.

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

.

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)