If a picture’s worth a thousand words,
Then a window contains a library.
A window is set apart
From any canvas or oil painting.
You can see artistic scenes through a window,
Unlike most other art forms, which, of course, can be windows,
But they lack an outside,
A tangible and believable portal,
Sustaining the natural need of an environmental presence
Even within closed confines.
A student seated in a classroom with windows
Is more likely to gaze out a window
(Imagining escape, perhaps?)
Than to glance at even the best possible art around the interior space.
One purpose of art is escape,
And windows are a visual escape from where we are,
Luring us with the bait of what stares beyond.
Like all art, be a steward to windows,
Keep them clean and free from breath fogs.
Be grateful that a window
Gives you a view and protection from any disturbance
That may hinder your admiration.
Take advantage of a windows feature:
Open them up!
Feel the wind of the art on the other side!

There is a countable
distance between
the silence
where I sit
and the street
where I see
a mobile cacophony
of pedestrians
of various speeds
and multiple gaits.
From singular  
to numerous bodies
together and apart.
A part of me wants
to join them
apart needs
to avoid them.
So I count the distance
between voices
and my thoughts
silently
hush now
urging them all to stop
and embrace the nearest one
and say without words
life can be beautiful
if we allow.

It's a quarter past Wednesday,
the coffee's late,
my bag-o-bones is dragging slow.
Heard little bo peep sold her sheep for gin
killing off the nursery rhyme.
Can't decide if that's a bad thing.
Feel like a late planted seed
unsure if it's roots can reach
deep enough to sustain strong growth.
Maybe tomorrow I'll have shoots and a little hope,
or leaves to sooth doubt,
or buds of competence
or fruits of confidence
and a coffee when I need it most.

Dainty hours
spent with her petal soft smile
lush exchanges
how her mouth makes words warm
delicate  moments
when our eyes held each other
little desolate
when hands separated
and time disconnected us
as it blindly does
without so much as an apology

The waves crash and
the ship rides on
into the dock
between the velveteen piers
as the wind sighs and moans
and the old wood creaks.
The sun beads the moisture
in the air
of the swaying harbor
as the rough sand
tries desperately to grab
the hips of the shore
and the boats all move
to and fro
in endless motion
against the bay side.

I care too much,
That makes me sensitive.
I expect too much in love,
It ruins everything.
My mind works overtime,
I think too much,
I don't sleep well,
I tend to get depressed.
But being depressed has made me realise,
The beauty in a smile,
The depth in kindness.
I talk too much,
I go on,non-stop,
People turn the other way
when they see me.
I have shared too much,
My love,kindness care and secrets,
I want them all back,
I regret being too much.

I could split the earth in two with my bare hands
I could tear the sea from the sands
I could devour all the pain that's in the world
I could soak up all the anger that's been hurled
I could crush all the demons in the palm of my fist
I could destroy all the murderers that enlist
I could silence all the bullies with a single glance
I could halt all the deviants before they advance
I could protect the children from all that's in store
I could save the innocent from famine and war
I could stop all the tears before they did fall
I could halt all the tyrants before they could rule
I could heal all the sick so that they had perfect health
If only I could save myself.