In never ending pain
You choose to wallow.
This dry sandwich of self-pity
Is so hard to swallow.

You juggle those slippery *****
Of pain and regret
I hear you pray for release
But you aren’t there yet.

Me thinks thou protests
A little too much
This “woe is me” cane
Has become your crutch.

Throw off that garment of gloom
Your attitude needs to switch
Just accept the fact
That life is a *****.

On a late night flight
Between heaven and home
The turbulence makes her think
How she’s been forced to roam.

Struggling with pleasure and pain
Love, loss and yearning
Stumbling through the smoke
Of the bridges she is burning

She just wanted the world
Was that too much to ask?
But she traded that dream
For the happy family mask.

But dreams are fragile
And so easily dashed,
Dangling in the downdraft
They finally crashed.

Lost on the endless plain
The blowing wheat can beguile,
Shifting with the wind
It confounds her personal exile.

Her love lies fallow
The growing season will expire,
Empty fields call her name,
As she follows her desire.

A dangerous bargain she has made,
Requiring all her talents,
Riding without reins,
She keeps that delicate balance.

Was it me or was it you?
At some point it doesn’t matter,
We’ve gone our separate ways
And nothing remains but memories:
Our playful give and take,
The laughter that softened the tears,
The bedroom ballet that kept us smiling.
So many smiles that we thought
Would be emotional cement.
I can’t muster any bitterness
But I can wallow in the happy times
That touched the edges of our lives
And maybe never penetrated deep enough
To sustain what we imagined we had
Together. Forever.

It was a glass of liquid sunshine
If I were to believe the waiter
My senses would be flooded
With essence of vanilla and
Glimpses of the land.
There would notes of citrus,
Faint odor of old leather
And deep berries would overwhelm.
If I shut my eyes
I could relish the peppery finish
And the buttery after taste.
I would be a fool to overlook
The healthy dose of tannin
Balancing the sweet cherry, plum and cassis.
The wine swirled in my glass
The fragrant bouquet filled my nose
I’d be lying if I said
The anticipation didn’t create
A certain aura of arousal.
Not just the sunshine in this glass
But all four seasons inhabited
My crystal goblet,
And the sheltering moonlight
Was in there too.
This wine surely has character
Like Gandhi or Churchill perhaps.
And legs. What legs.
Slender and vibrating
Long and glistening
I could stare at those legs
Until dessert.
Having passed the cork test,
All eyes were upon me
Lifting the bowl of undulating liquid
To my lips.
I sipped.

I search and search
and search in vain
Maybe it will help
To accept this pain

A crushing surprise
Slammed shut a door
I try to know myself
And nothing more

The loss of love
A stifling chill
I shut my eyes
Swallow this bitter pill

I just tried to trust
Those who couldn’t love
I have to overcome
And rise above

Another lesson in life’s
Twisting changing path
It makes me stronger
When I lose the wrath.

Walking down the avenue
Familiar comfortable,
I know the cracks in the sidewalk.
Years ahead or years behind
I could walk this street blind.
There are ghosts in the air
That lead me on
And no sooner have I left
That I’m home again.
But around the corner
If I dare
There’s a promise of mystery
A path unknown
The footsteps have faded
An empty canvas of concrete
Damp with a haunting melody
That spreads like fog
Beckons me to a light unseen
Unfamiliar sights but I’m not lost
The way home blurred by the mist
I can’t turn back, there is no way home.
I dance as the music quickens.

Sitting at the window
A girl alone in her room
So sad and delicate
A rose waiting to bloom

Tears glisten in the sun
Yearning for a life to live
Why is she imprisoned
With so much love to give?

A book of childhood dreams
With pages turned to dust
Her faith was stolen
Because she gave her trust

With dawn a journey beckons
A new path she will uncover
Life and love await  
Her spirit she will discover

Now the lonely tears will fall
On the ground and they are gone
Feeding the thirsty rose
Which will bloom with the dawn.

Quiet and cautious
Protecting the secrets
Close to her heart.
Slowly her defenses weaken
Tiptoeing through the forest
Of past desires and fallen trees.
The leaves rustle and she warms
To the approaching dawn.
As squirrels scurry in the trees
She awakens to natures embrace
And lets the water tumble
Over rocks and moss.
Laying in a bed of leaves
The walls have subsided
And the tones of a distant flute
Surround her and dissolve her slumber.

They sneak up on you
The same time every year.
But each year they are different;
Different people, different places,
More people, fewer people.
Old friends, new friends,
Lovers, family, random celebrants.
Each birthday is a time capsule
A specific moment sliced from the year,
Seemingly mundane, but oh so telling.
As we age, we pretend to ignore them,
Not wanting to count the years or
Admit to their significance.
But if others forget them,
We are hurt deeply.
As the day approaches
We are forced to assess our life,
The past months, the past years
The days ahead, the shortage of days to come.
A happy day is always the wish from others,
As if saying it will make it happen.
If only life worked that way.
But it is our day, our one special day
No matter our sins or transgressions,
We can bask in the glory just this once,
This day is our reward, for nothing in particular.
Just for being, just for living,
Just for having survived.
But maybe that is worthy of acclaim.
Every day, every week, every month
And surely every year
Is a struggle.
Let’s celebrate perseverance.
Let’s celebrate fortitude.
Let’s celebrate strength of character,
To whatever degree it exists.
Let’s celebrate hurdles,
Overcome or faced with courage.
Let’s celebrate disappointment
Profound disappointment that failed
To defeat us.
Let’s celebrate not giving up
In the face of overwhelming fear.
Let’s celebrate the journey
In all it’s joy and dejection.
And most of all
Let’s celebrate the days to come
And that glimmer of hope
That keeps us plodding along,
Fighting, struggling, sacrificing,
And wincing in pain
Every day of the year
So we live to see another
Birthday.

Today is my birth day
I am newly born.
It was the most natural of births
But the labor dragged on
For thirty-nine years.

Today is a double celebration
I am toasting the death
Of my old self
And toasting the birth
Of me.
The real me.
The happy me.
The me who doesn’t feel the pain
Of abuse.
Who doesn’t feel the fear
Of ***.
Who doesn’t cower in shame
In the shadow of men
Who can’t love.

The funeral was quick
The burial was quicker
There will be no headstone
To commemorate that life
It’s dead and gone,
And I pray there are no scars
On my infant skin.

I don’t pretend that I will love again.
I don’t need that crazy ****
Living free and clear
Of ancient and ruins
Is enough for me.
I will not suckle on a ***
Ever again.
From this day on
Every step is a joy
It is my journey
And only mine.
Today I take baby steps
Tomorrow I walk
And soon I run
Putting endless miles
Between me and that
Cold unmarked grave.

She’s lovely and petite,
Long flowing blonde hair,
The target of constant
Unwanted attention,
The **** of many crude jokes.
Though you can’t deny it
There is a kernel of truth
To every stereotype.
Shallow. Yes she is shallow.
Shallow as the flood waters
Three inches deep, powerful
Enough to sweep your car
Into a watery grave.
Superficial. Yes she is superficial.
Superficial as the thin layer
Of paint on a Renoir or Monet
Colors translucent and divine
Deep and lustrous
Transporting the imagination
To a world of romance and joy.
Clueless. Yes she is clueless.
Clueless as Sherlock Holmes
As he solves a mystery as dark
And complex as any labyrinth
With nary a clue, save for a trail
Of breadcrumbs and a scent of
Gardenia.
Airhead. Yes she is an airhead.
An airhead like the thinnest of air
Atop the mighty Himalayas where
Holy men choose to transcend the
Mundane and commune with
Spirits subtle and ethereal and ultimately
Unknowable.
The world sees her beauty and perhaps
Only her beauty, but they are blinded
By their shallowness, superficiality,
Cluelessness and a brain wallowing
In the clouds of misty ignorance.
Therein lies the joke.

I swallow the first signs of spring
With my morning juice
The birds are awake,
I can’t shake winter’s noose.

While this body moves slow
The seasons change fast
I spread the marmalade
And dwell on summers past

Crumbs are sprinkled like snowflakes
Memories appear so palpable
The breakfast stains are set
I ponder, am I culpable?

I’m social by nature
But take my meals alone
I raise my glass and toast
Dreams for which I can’t atone

Every meal we shared
Is on the tip of my tongue
The songs that she loved
Will never be sung

The solace I seek
I try to pry from her fist
All the windows are open
The stale odors persist

I’ve cleared the table
But I have a hunch
Whatever I’m serving
She’ll be here for lunch.

Today the last drops of Hope
Disappeared down the drain.
Unceremoniously.
A slow circular dance without even
A goodbye.
It had been her companion for so many months
Years even.
It nurtured her and she prayed
That her trust would not be in vain.
This pain is not new--just sharper--
and no longer tempered by Hope.

She has built a wall
That can’t be scaled.
Isolation doesn’t lessen the agony
Physical comfort is no cure.
Heartache is like the seasons
It dissolves according to its own rhythm;
A schedule that laughs at our
Attempts to start summer in May.
Love that won’t be returned
Leaves us bobbing endlessly
On the unforgiving sea.
The heart listening devoutly
Devotedly
For those faint murmurs
Which keep it beating.

She waited many seasons for him
Colored leaves to be buried in snow
Then daffodils bringing hope
But falling soon in the heat of summer,
And then lonely winds of November.
How many springs would be enough
Until she knew her love would
Never bloom?

Today is the first day without hope
Waiting no more.
Feeling naked, bruised
But unshackled by a dream,
A nightmare?
Jericho will blow his horn
The wall will come tumbling down,
Maybe not crashing, but brick by brick
Stone by stone.
Will she love again?

Oh, I love to get a bright new shiny thing,
Marvel at the perfection
Caress the smooth surface
Not a flaw to interrupt my touch
And there is a smell of newness
Hard to describe, but perceptible nonetheless.
I walk around the room
Studying the view from various perspectives
A changed environment, and how it speaks
With this new addition.
Nothing can ever be the same
This bright shiny thing begins to define the space.
It mirrors my life, and reflects the imperfections
My old life is dented and marred and scratched
Lines of age bear witness to the passing of time.
I have a gallery, photos of my bright shiny things
Frozen portraits of hope
But now only the photos survive untouched.
And today, like so many days before,
I discover a flaw.
Just a dimple, but a glaring impediment
To my dream.
My bright shiny thing fades
And soon finds a place on the shelf.

She floats with the music
The rhythm carries her in the air
A graceful symmetry of body and motion
Relaxed, relieved, she relishes the touch
Of sound upon her soul

Effortless she glides
above the dance floor of life.
Simply an illusion
Like a glittering gown
Worn to sparkle but defies inspection.

In tango she is released
The Latin beat breaks the bonds
Of plodding history
And love found and lost
Of life’s regrets filed away.

She twirls and poses
Shedding years and tears
A young child sits upon the floor
Shivering, alone, pondering
The future.

She finds comfort here
Enveloped by a firm caress
Grounded to the past
In love with the present
And the art of becoming.

She speaks in the dance
A voiceless conversation
A language of love she understands
He understands
It takes two to tango.

It’s that time of night
Where it’s still today
But maybe it’s tomorrow.
Teetering between the present
And the future.
I’m often like that
Resistant to change,
Complacent in my old ways
But all too aware of the
Inevitability of what’s to come.
It’s the dull comfort of these chains
That keep me moored to the
Perpetual winter.
I am cursed with always knowing
But not wired for doing.
Perched upon this fence
The vista is thrilling and the scenery
enticing.
But sit I must and watch the parade
And clap to the oompah
Of a passing tuba.
Somewhere the sun is rising
I watch the clock
Tethered to yesterday
And not believing in tomorrow.

Please don’t love me
Just desire me
When I get boring
You can fire me

With your kisses
I’m over sated
The bonds of love
Are over rated

Like me hate me
Touch me hold me
When I’m bad
You can scold me

Love is a trap
That will bind you
Get held hostage
They’ll never find you

We all promise
for better or worse
little do we know
its such a curse

Such a sweet addiction
to be adored
the pleasure wanes
we just get bored

We’ll forego
fortune and fame
but can’t stop trying
to play this game.

I am floating in my fantasies tonight.
Can’t decide if I’m sad or resolved
Things that could have been
Fall like dust on my table
I want to sweep them away
But I need to think of their random patterns
And uselessness….at least a little more.
It’s a trap, a tempting trap
I won’t fall in, but will dip my toes.
Do I have any more control of the past
Than of tomorrow?
I am already regretting a future
That has not yet disappointed me.
But I sense it will.
I need to live in the present
Away from what could have
And what should have
And what might, but won’t.
This music doesn’t help.
Just the melancholy soundtrack of my life.
Each note mirrors my heartbeat
Struggling to be heard.
But it will be.
These dreams are mine
And they won’t float away
In the river of memory.

In his stall late at night
Barbaro dreams of taking flight.
He hears a sound and ****** his ears,
A comforting hum of distant cheers.
Glory was quick and oh so brief
In these quiet hours he seeks relief.
It helps to run that race again,
Cheers and praise in the world of men.
Those speedy gifts have been retired,
Thoughts of victories desired,
Put to pasture such an early age
Against the stall he kicks with rage.
Why won’t the people listen?
Those long lean legs still glisten,
Powerful force on powerful thighs
Wire to wire swiftly flies.
But never again given a chance,
To chase the breeze and do the dance.
This night the stall door was left ajar,
A finish line beckons from afar,
Nothing to stop his midnight flight,
Soaring faster toward the light,
Racing the wind, his ultimate test,
In the winner’s circle he comes to rest.

Your soul is shaken by the turbulent seas
A ship unsuited for the journey
You dream of sleep in safe harbor
Salt water washes your tears.

Without a course you drift
Upon the waves
The last drop of fresh water
Has moistened your lips

Seeking the guidance of the stars
You gaze upon the skies
Dark clouds obscure your view
And send you to the maelstrom.

In the darkest of the muddy night
A ray of light stirs your soul
The clouds have parted
And Polaris appears.

With hope abandoned
You glide toward the light
Blind faith fills your sails
And leaves the storm in your wake.

Fatigue and failure grip your spirit
You are overtaken with sleep
Your nightmares are quiet
And you float peaceful like a gull.

Was it the light or the heat
That stirred you at dawn?
Calm. Steady. Warm.
A harbor safe from the sea.

That faulty compass at your feet
It was so foolish to trust
Tossed overboard, it disappears
Quietly like your past.

Childhood dreams
Were shattered long ago.
New dreams were distilled
From tears and fears.
Bitter dreams withered
By reality.
But dreams nonetheless.
They fall away like
November leaves.
Drawing strength
From love. From work.
From life’s purpose.
She perseveres.
A struggle on a slender
Precipice
Never looking down.
Acceptance is a clever
Way to deal with pain.
Clutch it to your breast,
Make it yours.
Devour it. Spit it out.
She has had her fill
Of acceptance.
Tomorrow perhaps
Devoid of dreams
Will sustain her
And take her to
A place of peace.
Where she is loved
And loves herself.

I went to the Cordon Bleu
And my name is Pierre
I work in the kitchen
I’m a French chef extraordinaire

With fine French food
My name is synonymous
But I am an addict
I attend McDonalds Anonymous

When I make a quiche
I just want to hug it
But I keep getting cravings
For a Chicken McNugget

Fast food or French food
I am conflicted
Fast food or French food
Yes I am addicted

The 12-step program
Keeps me on track
I have to fight my desire
To binge on Big Mac

I pretend I’m a food snob
My life’s full of lies
When I buy burgers
I must wear a disguise

I should come out of the closet
Admit my transgressions
Then they would accept me
For my fast food obsessions

Maybe the other chefs
Would heap me with praise
If I smothered my Big Macs
With Sauce Hollandaise

I can't bear that she's in pain,
Her tears are acid that etch my cheeks.
Her silence screams and echoes in my empty room.
I wander alone.
Waiting. Hoping.

Memories dance in my head
Mined from an abandoned quarry
A lost and forgotten vein
Becoming rich with pain

Buried beneath a victory garden
The roots have spread
Unnoticed. Unhindered. Untouched
Nourishing the first of the bitter fruit

I want to fly. Untethered.
Grounded by the past
Entombed by choices long forgotten
Forgiven. Forced to revisit.

My history has given birth
To every step, every breath
I focus on the future and see
A mirror preaching with conviction

Amen. I can’t resist.
We pray for release
But listen for restraint
And live for desire.

My passions can mask
A world of darkness
I look to the light
And fall down the rabbit hole.

A storm that thrills
But does not frighten.
A tightrope lofty and delicate
But steady like a rock.
Passion that knows no bounds
But embraced and held close.
Words whispered in breathless joy
But echo endlessly in the canyon.
A touch as ephemeral as a fading dream
But etched on my skin.
Laughter that lifts and lightens
But brings tears to my desires.
Moments that can’t be described
But evoke a language I’m still learning.
Sensations heavy and overpowering
But float and dissipate in a mist.
Love intangible.
But real.

I knew it was coming
Like the evening train.
A few minutes early
Or a few minutes late.
I’m adjusting now
For the journey home.
A little older and a little wiser
It’s a good time
To clear the senses
And face the truth
In the mirror.
I loved her in my way
She didn’t deserve my love
I’m sorry to say
I wanted so much
For her to deserve it
And want it even
But she wouldn’t go that far
Unrequited love is a heartbreak
Unwanted love is a tragedy.
I can’t accept a tragedy
It’s a big word, and heavy
Let’s just say a misunderstanding
Two hearts that passed in the night
Not hearing, not touching
But the scent of her still lingers
My clothes reek of her
But her clothes smell of the spring day
Untouched unsullied
My tears left no stain upon her soul.

What can be done with the language barrier?
Words can approach the river
But refuse to cross
Heavy with thought and weigh us down
We shape their meaning with crude tools
And leave us staring at trees for solace.
Words are like snowflakes that melt on your arm
Each a unique world, a precise shape
Gone so fast and replaced.
There are so many, I need to ponder
How can I ever know you
If you fade and melt under my cold scrutiny?

What can be done with the language barrier?
Walls need to be scaled
I step upon your syntax to gain perspective
But words fail me when I reach the heights
Let's build a path to bridge the gap
A silent path of smooth stones
Cobbled together under the canopy of leaves
Where we can walk breathless
Hand in hand
Translating the words
That hang unspoken in the misty air.

She tries on men like a summer dress
Inspects the fit, the color, the silky fabric
“It scratches like that one I had last year”
She loves the feel of a new dress.
The excitement, the way she looks at dinner
How it brings out the color of her eyes.
They are always special at first, she thinks.
But the second and third wearing
It starts to become
Just another dress.
Her closet is full, the colors reflect her memories:
The concert in Cologne, the opera in Vienna
A performance here, a recital there.
On each dress is written a symphony
The notes emblazoned on the fabric
Never to be played again
Her men are her performances
Infused with passion, tempered with distance
The growing flame must be drenched
Before it consumes her art and her life.
The past must be altered
Lest she play that piece again.

The earth reveals
Layers of rock
From ages past
Clues of life exposed
Frozen in time
Secrets exclusive for inquisitive
And learned minds.
To others, just rock,
Striated, fused, multi-colored.

Springtime, snow melts,
The months of frozen feelings
Thaw and reveal a blanket
Of hidden emotions nurtured
By fallen leaves.
Layered like rock, they cuddle
In their dampness
As the sun brings life to the months
Of quiet glacial discovery.

The law is a puzzle of the seasons
Mysterious in its ambiguous simplicity
Present, at hand, but always out of grasp
Layered meanings twist the mind
History adds the pressure of precedence
A crutch for lazy minds
Struggle to reassess and delve deeper
Into meanings untapped
A mine waiting to share its ore
A wrapping of leaves concealing
Life unawares, undiscovered.
Time. Energy. Passion.
No secret.  
The key to discovery is simple,
Innocent in the palm of your hand
One turn, and a world is unlocked.

A year from now I’ll look back
At you and me and what we had
The endless fights will have faded,
Our struggles just clouds of memory.
The good times will shine
Casting light on my nostalgic shrine
To the long gone past.
We tried and tried and tried
To make it work.
Our failure is buried with our futility
Perhaps it does not live on
Our meek success kept alive
Not interred with the bones of our disaster.
Am I wrong to recall
Those moments of bliss amid the ruins?
They hang in the air
I pluck the fruit of our doomed love.
I can taste the sweetness now
The cool juice drips
Excites my senses
You excite my senses
Even now.

She haunts my days
My thoughts float on her spirit
Living in the mirror.
The looking glass becomes her;
My dissipated identity cowers
In a morphed reflection she now owns.
I wasn’t prepared for this possession.
Slipping through the unseen gap,
Sliding in with the night breeze
My unknown twin has arrived
Setting up house in my soul.
Futile struggles to escape
Leave me walking backward
Sighing to accept my fate.
I want to embrace my twin
But I fear a deception
My eyes cant perceive.
Or is it my own likeness
I refuse to trust?
She has rocked my foundation,
Opened my vault to light
Blinding light overwhelming
All senses.
Repelled by my failures
Attracted by my nascent dreams
This haunting has enveloped me
Losing my will to resist
I am drawn to her reflection
My reflection.
Our reflection.

I didn’t know that I was lost,
But I knew when I was found.
Those heavy chains on my heart
I was no longer bound

The sun is suddenly brighter
The coffee I swear is sweeter
I’d still be in a fog
If I didn’t meet her.

I pinch myself daily
Thankful for the pleasure
I feel like Blackbeard
Finding a buried treasure.

Love is a principle
Not an emotion,
Feelings are too flighty
On which to base your devotion.
Love flutters
She’s a butterfly to catch your attention
With net in hand,
She defies comprehension.
Labels are helpful
But they never stick
Try reading her palm,
But it’s only a trick.
So I live in limbo
Confused and never knowing
I see her there,
Is she coming or going?
If I stop thinking
It all feels right
I’ll let myself go
And melt in her light.

I’ve never known you without Lulu
She has been a part of you
As much as your humor
Your generosity
Your kindness
Your ability to make things happen.
But you are not less for her loss,
She filled you with joy
She warmed your bed
On those cold and lonely nights.
She loved you when
Nobody else would.
One look at her bright eyes
And your day was brighter.
But you are not less for her loss,
Her spirit will reside
Upon a soft fluffy bed
Somewhere inside you.
She will continue to come
Whenever you call her.
How could she not?
That’s what good dogs do.
She will be there to snuggle
When you need comfort,
And wag her tail
When you need a laugh.
If you listen hard
She is barking now
She wants a walk
Or a treat
Or just some affection.
Good dog.

In an instant the sparkle showered me
Bathed in light and energy
Flowing flowing a waterfall of emotion
A connection stretching back in time
A piercing silence
Cloaking me in her calm
Her doors had been cast aside
Unexpected candor, laughter lilting
And bouncing, catching me off guard.
She wasn’t hiding behind the bush
Or running from tree to tree
She stretched the moments
Filled them with spirit
Flew to the rafters and beckoned me to join
I melted in her eyes, molten joy
Ready to be molded
Precious shapes, rare forms
Unknown beings.
I trusted her hands
Gripped me with delicacy
And a lightness of life.
That moment became a day
And that day will not end.

Teasing from behind
that veil of mystery
Playing with pseudonyms
And toying with my affections.
What’s in a name anyway?
It’s not the person.
I can live with a charade,
My life is a progression of charades,
A series of train cars
One deception following the next
Stopping traffic
A victim of endless inertia.
I play her game, dive into her fiction
She’s a mistress, an object of desire
Hiding from love beneath her bowler hat.
She’s a muse, stirring emotions
Inciting creation.
Constructing a flimsy edifice
To keep the world at bay
A fruitless attempt at solace
And privacy and peace
For her passion is a magnet
Anonymity is ******* by her attraction.
One cannot put a label on truth.

Awash in disillusionment for a moment
That lasts for two
Making the most of a meaning I can’t possess
Branching out on limbs unknown
Never knowing the next step
A journey in the dark moonless night
Being guided by voices in my head,
Strange yet familiar I follow nonetheless,
Rushing to beat the dawn
I’ve been down this path before
My sleeping mind knows the way
What will I awaken to?
Memories to ponder or dreams to forget?
The vacuum of my mind ***** me in
I toss and turn another chapter unread
There’s comfort in the wind
Inertia held at bay.
I’ll sweep away the morning fog
As the dust settles in my eyes
The new day brings a choice
I will follow.

One day I will buy chocolate milk,
One day I will fly first class,
One day my shirts will be silk,
One day I’ll have a backstage pass.

I am accustomed to saying No
To things that would make me smile,
It’s not that I’m short on dough
But splurging just isn’t my style.

The waiter asks if I’d like a sundae,
Oh my, I couldn’t do that,
Perhaps I’ll have it one day
Because I don’t want to get fat.

This attitude long ago was learned
And strangely it has survived,
Trust me I’m deeply concerned
Why I am so often deprived.

I know I deserve the best,
And shouldn’t make life tougher,
I feel that I’m overly stressed,
And I don’t deserve to suffer.

Starting today I shall vow
To indulge my deepest desires,
To spoil myself I’ll learn how
Before my dull life expires.

The world is a cauldron of never-ending pain
Do our sympathy and tears ease this pain
Equal even to a teardrop?
And if we are cold and heartless--
Ignoring the suffering and eating our sushi
And driving our cars--
Will their pain cut sharper and deeper
From our indifference?

Where are all the philosophers when you need one?
This existential limbo is anything but fun.
They must be sipping coffee on the Left Bank
I’m sinking here with only myself to thank.
I am, therefore I think.
I’m thinking, but what am I?
I couldn’t reason myself out of a zip-lock bag.
Get Kant on the phone, and don’t give me Camus,
His solution is like a bad tattoo,
It‘s deep and written in black,
My friend, there is no going back.

We all have a personal prison
Some soar to the sky
With smooth high walls
Try as we may,
Will never be breached.
Others have no walls
The view goes on forever
Happy in our confinement
Letting the world come visit.
There are jails of the mind
A noose strangling and constricting
The flow of blood, oxygen.
Stagnant, rigid in our status quo.
A parole never comes.
I have seen a penitentiary
Of flesh and bones.
The body can imprison
Leaving no escape.
A key hidden away years ago
The hiding place long forgotten.
We choose our prison
Decorate our cell
Complain or not,
Always marking the passing days
On the wall of our soul.

I was smothered today by a heavy blanket of reality.
Not a warm fluffy quilt.
Not a cuddly satin comforter.
But a scratchy rag from a forgotten closet
That filled my head with odors of a musty past.
I tried to toss that painful reminder
But I continued to itch
And vapors from that cloud of disappointment
Lingered into the night.
I put my reading down
The blanket unkempt at my feet
A fabric once soft to the touch
And a pattern familiar and in vogue
Has lost it’s allure.
Like a reindeer sweater,
It’s odd that this would appeal to me
Even back then.
Perhaps a gift, accepted foolishly,
Or picked up on a cold night without thinking.
I’m warmer now…and wiser;
My closets need some attention.

You look at me, is that pity or compassion?
I’ve made choices you wouldn’t have made
I know self-sacrifice isn’t in fashion.
I’m not in total denial, I see what you see
But it’s my life and I know it,
We are friends, comfortable with each other.
Okay, we spar, we fight, we don’t always
See eye to eye. But we are in it for the long haul.

Ruby lips etched sharply
Against a gauzy memory
Pensively floating on the hope
Of a love long lost.
She resides in a murky present
Time out of place
Creating a romance of a silky past
Delicately draped on her soft shoulders.
Locked in a whirlpool of faded emotions
She yearns for substance that is both
Supportive and translucent
Unsatisfied but not hopeless
Resting upon her reverie
Evening slips into night
Dreams envelop her.

I tried to tickle my vegan fancy
With bushels of quinoa and kale,
I was told no meat or dairy
Was the healthy Holy Grail.

But I was sad and hungry
With every burger I declined,
See me toss away my salad bowl,
I’m in a sirloin state of mind.

I filled my fridge with veggies,
Bean sprouts and legumes,
But I dreamt of pancetta
And links of sausage to consume.

Breakfast was plain yogurt
Lunch was collard greens,
Snacks were roasted edamame,
****, they’re just soy beans.

I was getting much too skinny,
My ribs were protruding,
I became short-tempered,
And was dark and brooding.

I covered all the mirrors,
I looked so pale and pasty,
All day I would salivate,
Craving something hot and tasty.

My vegan days are over
Enjoying pork chops, ham and bacon
I thought veggies were the answer,
But it seems I was mistaken.

Feel free to live off plants,
If you are so inclined,
But I’m firing up the grill,
I’m in a sirloin state of mind.

The fear has subsided,
Uncertainty melts into endless kisses,
The second movement begins
On a hopeful note,
The violins build with a confidence
And unity, powerful and harmonious.
The unstructured first movement
Simply a search for a theme
A leitmotif to progress from darkness
To light.
The woodwinds laugh,
The horns announce the news,
The drums are strength and power
Driving the rhythm of our love.
Writing the notes together
We flow like rain
Blow together like leaves
In a breeze so brisk and strong.
We are conducting this movement
In gentle caresses and playful interchanges.
A melody only the heart can hear,
Silently envelops our waking hours,
And urging us to surrender.
The orchestra plays as one
We float upon the ocean of sound,
Wondering if the symphony will ever end.
Let the musicians play on
We can dance till dawn.

She floated from a world before time
A Priestess with powers unseen
Subtle and nurturing.
The piece to a puzzle long forgotten
Or recently scattered in a dream
But now completed or maybe
Taking shape.
Meanings defy definition
But are precise nonetheless.
A calm innocence before the storm
That rushed in on cue.
Washing away the particulars
But polishing the essence
Of the arrangement.
Bonds so quickly formed
Unexpected energy merged
Across a table, but was it
Unexpected?
She is a diviner of things to come
A sensitive soul steering her boat
To distant shores, guided by
Ethereal forces.
A young body, an old soul
Piercing eyes that beckon
And heal.
She floated in on a hope,
And drifted out with the storm.

An oasis in a parched terrain
A rhyme in a dull refrain
In a storm a place to hide
A ******* in a riptide.

Going down, a parachute
Monday morning, short commute.
Summer day a scarf of silk
Warm cookies, a glass of milk.

Chocolate sundae the cherry on top,
Dangerous street a friendly cop.
A sturdy rope down the abyss
Tucked in bed a goodnight kiss.

She runs with the pack
Keeping the plodding pace
Jogging past ancient doors
And icons of the past
The eyes of the adoring crowd
Smother her in kisses
She’s burdened by the blessings
Staring down the horizon
She yearns for something more.

Glimmers of a sprightly past
Tunes bounce about like butterflies
She moved unburdened untouched
Her soul was sparkled
And her voice alive
A studio of life and love and movement
With the sky for a ceiling
Float away at midnight
Traded for a frozen dance
And a voice muffled.
There’s glitter and gold
But she yearns for something more.

A young girls dream of love
And romance
It surrounds her by day
And eludes her by night
Its all from the book
But none from the dream
She smiles and smiles
And then checks the mirror
Her contentment is a wool coat
Sturdy and warm
She cries to run freezing in the snow
Screaming as the flakes alight
It’s a satisfying scene
But she yearns for something more.

I am a stranger to my life.
And all these years
I thought we were old friends.
But things have changed
I don’t know you anymore,
We have parted ways
Found new loves
Sit on a park bench;
You read the paper
I feed the pigeons.
Remembering the old days
A simple spontaneity
Was our only plan.
I’m surprised I can recall
A time before the layers of care
Dulled the senses
And marred the vision.
But it is fresh in my mind
Touching my nerves
With its presence
So much more than a memory;
My history has come alive
I will read every line
Each name and place and date
Make it linger
Keep the taste fresh
Savor the sweet nectar of youth
Acquaint myself with the child
Acquire that vision
Behold that life
Before it fades in the breeze.