(these are senryus)

Distrusted compliments
- screech like fingernails across
a schoolroom chalkboard.

No marked card - dealt from
the bottom of the deck - will
ever unlock my heart.

Avoid the overt
- sly Valmont, the skittish game
is wise to advances.

Theoretical physicists say that there’s really no such thing as “time.” That our perception of time is just how our minds work but that, in reality, everything is happening at once.

Somewhere, Harry James’ trumpet is crying out to lovers. Do you hear it?

Romeo is about to take stage for the first time - Kennedy is climbing into the convertible - and I’m about to meet my true love - will I know, did I know? Argh!

Time passes by or stays, unseen. Contrails forever linger, flowers never die and kisses don’t end.

This school day certainly feels like it’s lasting forever.

(a story in Senryus)

Dew gently pools on
the rich green Bermuda blades
of suburban lawns.

Walking across grass
soaks your shoes like a splashing
child in a puddle.

Your passage diagrammed,
by wet, green tracks that trace your
path like ****** snow.

Proof you were here, real,
a charming gift watched through chaste
glass - that made me cry.

No, I'm not ok.
It's amazing what a
smile can hide.

Monsters aren't under
your bed - they're in your head
And hard to ignore.

No one really knows
you until you show them your
internal, dark side.

I’ve met a couple of second-year med students.
I thought I was organized but apparently, I’ve just scratched the surface.
Everyone uses Google calendar “GCal” - for EVERYTHING,
and I’ve seen it, their days are packed - bye-bye ‘free time.’

Want to grab lunch, hang-out or even hook-up with someone?
Check their GCal and send them an invite.

(poem time!)..

GCal flex 💻✨

I got the word 💬 At first 🎬 I was lowkey sus 🤨
could it be thus ⁉️ but they offered proof 💯

GCal 💻 runs 🏃🏼‍♀️‍➡️the superiority complex 🏫
everyone keeps-it-g 💻✨connectedly 👭

AI puts our schedule 📆🕰️ in GCal 💻 form,
so right away ⛗ 🏁, we’re ½ 🌓 way home 🏠

The typical school day = 12 hrs 📅
Save your brain, let GCal 💻✨be 🐝 the boss 🧠➡️💤

Sleep 😴, snacks 🍕, 5-mi walk 🚶♀️— got it on lock 🔒
No wingin’ it 🚫, just colored blocks ⬛️ all on the clock 🕒

So, freshie AV 👩🎓 will get a ping 📱— “Come chill?” 🛋️
I’ll click yes ✔️, cause it’s just the drill 🔬

“Share lunch?” 🍽️ Invite sent ✉️
Netflix and chill 🍿? Event alert! 🚨

Invite a romantic move 💌 “Hook up?” 11:30 PM 🪛🌙
You never ♾️ know, he 💁‍♂️/she 💁‍♀️ might accept 🔩 ☔

Maybe GCal  💻 love is 💔 or lit 🔥, but dating’s doomed 💀,
in the calculus of m-school scheduling 🗓️🙅♀️, so just move 🚛 on

In med-school ​​📚, we’re like a team 🖇️, we need to be tight 🗜️,
we’re all 👥 on the clock ⏰, and nothing 🫙 can be left to chance 🎲.
.
.
Songs for this:
Closer (feat. Halsey) by The Chainsmokers
I Ain't Worried by OneRepublic
Levitating (feat. DaBaby) by Dua Lipa
Calendar by Paris Combo

(a flash fiction piece)

My brother (Brice) left university, 6 months ago, like millions of other students, to shelter from COVID. After years away Mr. Annoying was back in MY world, bickeringly close and way too frequently in my business - like some half-assed adult (he just turned 22).

As school planning recently started though, I awoke one night, unnerved at the thought that he might be leaving. It was a shocking awakening to how much I need him, draw strength from him and shelter in his lee. The heart-wrenching realization of how much I would miss him was breathtaking, like that Disney ride where they suddenly drop you seven stories. I bit off half my fingernails before I finally fell asleep. =/

In the clear light of morning, it's obvious that he’ll leave again at some point and I'm dreading it now that it's flagged my awareness - and I face him with a whole new, creepy appreciation.

Yesterday afternoon...
Brice is on the sectional, with a bowl of pretzels, watching some BORING documentary.
I sneak up behind him and take his drink off the side table.
I plop down next to him - very close, I squeeze next to him, hard, like there’s no other room on the huge sectional. He gives me the side eye.
Me: “What??”
After a few minutes he reaches for his drink to find it missing - he looks around, then at me.
Me: With a mouth full of pretzels, “What??”
He gets up to find his drink (which I put in the kitchen) and that takes about 20 seconds.
While he’s gone, I change the channel to “Miraculous Ladybug”, my favorite cartoon.
When he comes back we wrestle for the remote - it takes him a couple of minutes but he’s too strong and as he begins winning, I yell, “MOM!!, Brice is hurting me!” (which was cruelly ignored).
He finally gets the remote and back to his show - I straighten my hair, out of breath, and wonder how long it will take him to realize the pretzels are missing.

Christmas lights are starting to bloom,
showering multicolored holiday grace across
increasingly bare, late fall suburban landscapes.
I love, I need, the perfectly placed, perfectly timed, whimsy.

I love that Internet voodoo
that pile of wires and things
that lets us stay connected
and keeps us entertained.

It ties the world together
like economies these days
it's magic either good or bad
information cuts both ways.

It went down the other day
and it wasn't out that long
the maintenance guy
was at the outside box
and he did something wrong.

I watched him like a tiger
from inside my gilded cage
I was pacing my perimeter
like a predator engaged.

I screamed helpful, timely updates
he seemed a clueless clown
and I was ready to go block
his truck if he tried to leave
while we were still down.

He finally got the thingy fixed
my sweet prince of restoration
I laughed out loud to see the lights
then I gave him a standing ovation.

Without the Internet I'd go crazy
and it wouldn't take that long
after months of dull isolation
it's helped us all stay strong.

I’ve been working on my website - it’s been neglected far too long.
I’ve been wearing out Spotify - I may have listened to every song.
I walk five miles a day - because you’ve got to get outside
and I can easily spend an hour a day on “Just Dance” exercise.
I’ve been taking free on-line courses at “open university”
They have a thousand choices - an almost endless diversity.
Have you ever heard of “Headspace” - it can help you to relax
If you haven’t tried meditation for stress - I think it’s unsurpassed.
I’m learning about meal planning and cooking things with ease
I’ve been Zooming with a friend in China, to freshen up my Cantonese.
Even with a thousand distractions - this lockdown is driving me crazy
But it isn’t because I have nothing to do, and it isn’t because I’m lazy.
People just need people - so that we can laugh, love and compete,
or simply be together - that’s how humans feel complete.

skool alert (a short poem)
school starts in 13 days.
A thousand kinds of torture
in a million different ways.
You work and have a boss
who's awful hard to please
In school, have 6 bosses -
you think that that's a breeze?
Virtual school's the worst
like school without the fun.
No flirting, dates, or parties
It's good training for a nun.

Corona virus pickup lines...
Hey baby, I'm still employed.
What's a girl like you doing anyplace? Seriously, ***? Go home!
You're hotter than medically recommended.

thoughts..
Don't fall so in love with sad poems that you become one.
Today is both the oldest you've ever been and the youngest you'll ever be

I'm sure waterboarding is all they say it is but try and take a rubber band out of your hair you used for a quick ponytail.

That old monster school is rearing its ugly head.
School (11th grade: virtual) starts in 13 days. sigh
School doesn't teach life skills - but I can solve a parametric equation.
Age doesn't define maturity any more than grades define intelligence.

Friends joke with one another:
‘Hey, your dad’s dead.
’Hey you’re poor.’
That’s just what friends do.

Watching my mom on the computer and thinking
Why did you do THAT?
Why are you using Internet Explorer?
Your caps lock is on.
*** you're so SLOW.
You don't need to double click THAT  sigh
Is this is going to take ALL DAY.
MOVE AWAY - LET ME DO IT.

(a series of micro vignettes)

Chella and I are reading our analysis assignments together because that’s how we link and build.
We read out loud too, because how else can you judge the flow?
When my phone, lying on the table, jiggled. The caller ID read, “Tommy’s girlfriend.”
Chella gave me a little look. “I never change anyone’s ID,” I confessed. “Neither do I.” Cellia agreed.
“She broke up with him years ago..”

I feel sorry for panhandlers, I don’t see them often but I saw one yesterday. Who carries cash any more (Noone)?
Along the same line, Chella and I are wired, it-girls - we’re noise cancelled. Were you talkin’ to us?
We’re hard to engage, not because we’ve got attitude - we just can’t hear you. It’s irritating when I have to tap-out of some stream to hear people.
Even if it’s the waiter from the bistro downstairs delivering their exemplary frozen-strawberry-smoothies and burgers.

Later, after the pool, we showered. As I was toweling my hair, I studied myself in the mirror.
“My skin is SO ******* up,” I moaned, “I need a ‘rescue spa’ ******.. Let’s go to New York (city)—I’m taking you there.”
“There’s a ‘Forever Young Spa’ on Beacon street.. about a mile from here,” Cellia offered.
“Ever been there?” I asked.
“No, but the ad says they have an AI-powered massage robot. I’m curious.”
“Ooo! Call ‘em up, see if it does happy-endings.” I laughed.
“We could get a home unit.” Cellia updogged.
“I think we’d need the industrial version,” I added, “that’s the sell.”
.
.
A little playlist for this:
Nothing Can Stop Us by Saint Etienne
Goodbye by The Sundays

Our cast:
Chella, A tall, lithe black girl, from Liberty City (Miami) Florida. She's a Harvard Master's candidate with a ‘Bachelor of Science in Global Affairs’ from Yale. She had it rough growing up - she was buying skin-care at Trader Joes! I'm showing her some things.
Your author, a simple trust-fund baby from Athens, Georgia and a Harvard Master's candidate with a Bachelor of Science in Molecular Biophysics and Biochemistry from Yale.

“The open ear of youth doth always listen” - Shakespeare

I want to listen, when adults give me advice but it's not easy. The wind-up, the slow methodical narrative to the point drives me insane.

I know you’re trying to build a bridge - not a wall - so spit it out - I’m right here, behind these blue eyes. Whatever hurtful idea you’ve latched onto - let me hear it - STAT.

Maybe you’ll find your message returned - unopened - but you’re like earth - I’m stuck in your gravity - so for the love of whatever deity you worship - spill it.

Upgrade my life with your insight and I'll be forever changed and improved.

I’ve disappointed heaven
and I can tell you why -
I angered a silver angel
who came down from the sky.

She said, “I'm just a messenger
sent to share the word.”

I stood stone-still and waited
and this is what I heard:

“The coming Judgement will fulfil
- the rightful verdict of the Lord.”

“OK…” I answered, shyly -
in an effort to prompt for more.

But the seraphim started fading away
as if the message finished her chore..

I said, “Wait! I need a message I understand
- you have to give me more.”

The angel's face turned angry
and her tone became unkind -
she flipped her hair like a mean
girl and muttered “NEVERMIND”.

So if you’re messaged by an angel,
I hope you fare better than me
- I couldn’t decipher the message
- and she flew off angrily.

More break-up Senryus
to quickly, subtly cut that
relationship cord:

You’re a guy, I’m
a girl... it turns out we’re
just too different!

Look, It’s not you – it’s
me - turns out I don’t like
you much anymore.

You smile at him,
and then say: "You've helped
realize I'm gay."

Allegory time!
You're a turkey, ok? And
I'm going on a diet.

Here at our rooftop, collegiate, ‘resort of the mind,’
an early heatwave has struck - we’ve been advised.
Like we needed it. It’s 94°f and climbing - we’re not insensitive.
We’re aware that the sun is bright and the air is crisp and hot.
It was Friday morning, until the sun pointed to noon.

Nothing’s going to stop the summer swelter except thunder storms - which are on their way - we’ve been advised.
A seasonable tempest is being piped-up from the sea.
Like we needed it. We can see the far horizon’s shadowed billows and curtains of rain - we feel the changing wind.

But we have every reason to be cheery, forewarned as we are,
here at the pool, in the still needed shade, armed with margaritas.
The weather may change, the season alter, but we will, unaltered, remain.

We seem to have captured a moment of buz. People are swinging-by, dropping-in, bringing drinks and party snacks then lurking by the pool.

Fridays are 'sui generis'—magical—because they play tricks with time. Dreary weekday landscapes seem to transform, as the old week wanes and ‘the pert and nimble spirit of mirth awakens.’
(A purposeful Shakespeare misquote).
.
.
Songs for this:
Heat Wave by Linda Ronstadt
Heatwave by Bronski Beat
Heat wave - Bing Crosby

Thanksgiving is almost here,
annoying school bells have stopped ringing.
Turkeys are huddling, out of sight,
and the garbage men are singing.

We’re beginning to prep side dishes,
slicing, dicing, mashing, peeling,
and I’m smiling ‘cause I feel myself
swept up in holiday feelings.

I hope that Macys is ready
for their seasonal parade.
We’ll be watching as we start to cook
the banquet that we’ve made.

I’m wishing everyone plenty,
as we shelter in our homes.
On this tame 2020 holiday,
that we’re spending home alone.

Things that you would love
to say to your crush - if you
only had the nerve:

“quick, put your lips on
mine. I’m a spy and it’s
an emergency!”

Hey, I shaved my legs
this morning - they’re so smooth
- here, just feel 'em!

Kiss me if I'm wrong,
but the dinosaurs are still
around, aren’t they?

Eight months since the virus shut the door on the world.
It’s October and it’s like we’re hiding from the law.
You called me yesterday - but it quickly wore off.
Sometimes crushing hungers, for our old normal, blossom
but wither, like confused daffodils, denied sustenance,
in the reality of “second waves” and body counts.
This renewed viral spiral has me all wrung out.

On Twitter, late at night, you’re a big tough guy
calling people out and spitting in their eyes.

But in the real world - you blubber and you blunder,
like inside your head there’s a fire in the dumpster.

Your call to drink Lysol was a typical, deadly, Trump proffer -
your handling of the pandemic an incompetent slaughter.

In the face of unrest you pour fuel on the fire -
a dead BLACK man? You're a trouble amplifier.

Texting on Twitter you’re a liar and a punk -
when trouble breaks out, you hunker in a bunker.

You’re America’s undertaker, our commander-and-thief -
a living, breathing catastrophe - leading America disastrously.

I can tell that the stars are unhappy
and I know why the moon's acting crabby
‘cause they know you won't call
And it's bothering us all
I'm sorry that I behaved badly

The day won't go on without you
The clouds have been crying all day
I've expressed my regrets
please forgive and forget
‘cause even Alexa's gone whacky

I've got a reading!
And the venue's all sold out.
It's an old phone booth
that some company threw out.

Standing room only
you can get in by arrangement
I'll just hop out
for the term of your engagement.

If you show up
you won't even need a mask
'cause you'll be standing
on the far side of the glass.

My voice sounds muffled
in the sound-proof enclosure
so my poetry won't really
be getting much exposure.

For my fan base
it's the ideal place to show.
See, I can do the reading
and no one else will know.

force, punish, burden,
insistent coercion, and threat,
compulsion, tension.

Stressful stranglehold,
urge, force per unit area,
fuss, influence, duress.

Smiling at old folks
to reassure them you're
not a teenage ****.

Even though I'm in
my school uniform and look
like Mary Poppins.

I don't like talking
in front of a group of teens
- they're so judgmental.

Everything was dull,
you know? Another dark and
dull pandemic week.

But now: OH, MY GOD,
I'M SO EXCITED!! - I can
hardly eat or sleep!!

Gloomy clouds of doom
dissipated when I heard
our President's speech!

The pandemic's past
it's peak he said, it'll be over
by the election!

Two Days!! There will be
DATING SOON - I can scarcely
curb my elation!

I ran to find my
mom - she'll appreciate this
new revelation.

See - I'll need an all
new wardrobe - we've a shopping
list to complete!"

"I need EVERYTHING
in two weeks - MY GOD, is there
even time to sleep???"

"Trump can't just make that
call" she said, (she knows, she's a
doctor after all)

"The President would
never miss-lead us, there are
peoples LIVES at stake!"

"And the people would
would remember, it's on the
news for heaven's sake!"

"Besides, if he
lies and people die - it's a
crime not a mistake!"

This story happened last year, last fall right before school began

Summer talk has stopped sigh - free and easy days, parties and beach trips are over. Now attention turns to the fall and the start of school and the “2019 Social Season.”

Fall begins tonight with a social (a very formal dress party) and the night ahead looms long - these are the events that, for some reason, my siblings live for shaking head - I hate them.

The British would've held this party in a garden - when they ruled the world - but we're modern man - we get the St Regis.

My two best friends aren't here tonight so I'm stuck with my "peers" - the extravagant children of rich houses - those seekers of happy times drunk with an absence of accountability - as they enjoy their metrical friendships and wander lost among forests of bad choices.

Have you ever seen people high on their own surface reflections? It's not a good look.

I see a new purse worth an economy car - honors at the feet of conceit - presented like erotica - let's all just drown in special privilege - "That'll cure racism" - I crack - to cow-like indifference.

Don't worry, my generation will save the planet - we got this.

Like Mozart’s Cherubino, I know nothing of love
but I am waiting on the runway, idling like a jet
I am burning my composure
I am inviting trouble
I have hidden gifts
and a steely will

Money can’t buy happiness,
but it buys fast Internet
and that comes so close.

School's started up. sigh
I moved up a notch, of course
but virtual school *****.

We should be walking
- no, swaggering - ivied halls
with new dominance.

Seniors rule, true,
but with one foot out the door
- Juniors set the tone.

One more viral theft,
that renders long traditions
unapproachable.

This virus changes lives
- bodied within its limits
- what future will rise?

(3 senryus)

I am enjoying
this dull time - this decayed life
of extinguished hopes

Each sublime sunrise
finds my morning mind childishly
wishing for freedom

If wishes had power
If young tears were a vaccine
If our thoughts mattered

(a Senryu string poem)

High school girls are just
thoughtless and vague - too ****
dumb to be afraid.

Trusting too quickly
- believing things that are said
- unaware of risk.

Small and powerless,
chickens cooped from feral foxes
- peaches for picking.

So accompany
me on walks, to the store and
guard me like a penny.

Look - we're women
- junior grade - and conscious
of dark potential.

Breasted Americans
face a dark rainbow of threats
- we are mortal.

But ANY of us can
encounter unscheduled evil
like nightmares from hell.

Yes, that means you rough
tough males who glide through life as
if untouchable.

I stumble pajamaed, half asleep toward the object of my desire.
in memory, it calls to me, of passionate pleasures experienced prior.
The morning's night is the consummate time for secret rondeaus discrete.
With ninjaly sneak I arrive at the door - my illicit joy within reach.
But to my horror I find the pizza gone - again, my trust is breached!

I drive me crazy
- there's no hiding or help
for dark self distrust.

Frightening whispers
are like a levied tax of
doubt about my choices.

Anticipations
dulled on anxieties rough shore
- best to keep them deep.

kisses.
feel them
the tension and aliveness
they’re loaded with psychology and social context

its an intense observation
mouths connect our inner and outer worlds
they cross the exterior-interior divide
they’re simple forms of passion and expression
but they’re drastic and emphatic

I wrestle with wildness
I desire less breathing room, less layering
I riot with instinctive response
I long to obliterate feminine’ restraint
and share inner experience
.
.
A song for this:
Only Love Can Break Your Heart by Saint Etienne
Fly Into Your Arms (a cappella) by X-Cetra
As Above So Below by Fievel Is Glauque

It's not your looks, I
like but what you are INSIDE
talking to my fridge

Sometimes I pretend
that I’m dying to see if
my cat would save me.

Thank you lord for giving me two-hundred-and-fifty loveless nights,
for rerunning dull experiences so I can revisit past delights.

Thank you for isolation, for removing all temptations.
For drawing out this punishment far beyond my expectations.

Reward our solemn and astringent lives by helping - if you please.
As you form galaxies from dust and your moon lifts lazy seas.

If you created life in your universe to give it all some meaning
- then look on us with charity please, we’re in need of love and healing.

There's a boy at school, he's so quiet.
But sometimes he'll speak-up and say something that's so funny

A couple of times I've tried to talk to him, after class,
to tell him how funny I think he is, but he practically vanishes.
Kim & Bili (My two BFF) think he's super shy. I find funny very attractive.

Now, even in our dull virtual class he can say something that fractures - even the teachers think he's funny - they never get mad.

When this lock-down is over I'm going to lasso him and tell him.
We might have to work like a posse, corral him from three sides like a skittish colt.

I'm not going to tell him I find him attractive - duh.

But I will tell him that if someday he's a famous comic,
like Seinfeld or Chappelle, I won't be surprised.

There aren't enough compliments in the world - I love
those delightful moments, when I can surprise someone
with the miniature perfection of a compliment.

Does he see the enchanting power of his humor?
Maybe he won't care shrug but I'll wake up that
morning to the thrill of the chase and just doing
it will make my day.

I‘m embittered by isolation like Ado turned to salt
but outside, the flowers are dueling for attention.
I am mortared in this seclusion as Catullus rendered stone
yet outdoors, trees bask and frolic in the sun.
I'm locked in place, punished, like I'd smiled at Medusa
yet the squirrels go about their gatherings as birds forage.
I am gently constrained, but freedom nips at the air and invites memory.

I want to be a writer -
and like a new poker player -
I'm starting to evaluate my cards.

I post on several poetry sites
I find syncing them kind of hard.

'Cause I'm the model of imperfection
heck, I'm the Edison of mistakes -
a teenager half-heartedly committed
to doing whatever it takes.

Does it help that I'm never happy?
That I constantly make updates?

At times I feel the proverbial cat
chasing its own tail -
but I think I'm making progress
- like a literary snail.

(a series of haikus)

I will not woo
until this virus is cured
or there are vaccines.

I refuse to kick
my brother until there’s
some police reform.

I won't fight with
my mom 'til we focus on
the environment.

I’m going to hold
my breath ‘til the election
- go, go, sleepy Joe!

I won't buy any
makeup until - heck, who wears
makeup anymore??

I’m giving up
pizza... wait, no I’m NOT.
Forget about THAT!

(promises are subject
to cancellation - any time
- without prior notice)

I dread those moments
when infatuation begins
to be commitment.

When a wanting to
be together turns into
an obligation.

whoa, I can’t be
“your”  girl - I’m not looking
to belong to you.

What commands my heart
- who knows? But it can't be
kept - pressed like a rose.

Is a girl ******
if she won’t commit to
a relationship?

arrgh!. Zoom didn’t connect? - more tech issues
USPS can’t deliver any more - Trump's America!
I wasn’t dragged & dropped - is wireless down?
no Facebook notifications? - ok, who uses that
My image wasn’t swiped! - I knew my hair was..
My email was returned? - call that Alphabet guy
No Amazon deliveries. - a probable traffic issue
FedEx hasn’t arrived! - there must be a mistake
I didn’t get pinned? - maybe there’s a pandemic
I wasn’t upvoted. - I question the entire process
No iMessages - maybe the upgrade was buggy
No likes? - is it me or am I seeing patterns here

My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of tyranny,
Of thee I sing;
Land where my hackers live,
Land where my loyalty is,
Land where my bankers give
Let misrule ring!
My native country, flee,
To land of autocracy,
Thy name I love;
I love thy arrogance,
Thy sweet high-handedness;
Your subjugating dominance
Of thee I sing.
Let Russia swell the breeze,
And ring with Putany
Sweet brother's song;
Let lying tongues awake;
Let American freedoms take;
Let law and justice break,
Let Trump rule ring!
Allies like Moscow Mitch,
Have America in the ditch,
Let Fox News ring!
Republicanism is a b*h,
Our government for the rich,
My Lackey's be enriched
Of thee I bling!
Corruption's' God to me,
Author of tweetery,
To me thee sing.
Long may my brand be bright,
With dictator's impending night,
The fools have given me the right,
I'm  God your King!

The conversation
takes an crushy turn - so my
brain starts making quips.

My experience is
that my amorous impulses
are unreliable.

With my friends, my flawed,
carnivalesque attempts
at romance are legend.

Unless I'm starved
for embarrassment's grief
which I seldom am.

I will dodge, slither,
obfuscate and stall attempts
at intimacy.

What if I’m the
Kind of girl that guys can’t
just fall in love with?

a Haiku

You don’t know me
Not really. You just might see
someone smiling bright

you might hear a laugh
skipping off my dark surface
inside I am rough

I am scrubbing on
interior surfaces in a
measured tyranny

There's no sheltering in a public place.
There's no coming together face to face.
Keeping away from you keeps me secure,
I’m keeping away from you, but praying for a cure.
Obeying all the rules 'cause that's how I roll.
But staying away from you is taking quite a toll.
I'm getting weirder and weirder as time goes by
No distraction techniques are making this all right.
Laying in bed all night wide-eyed and hardly sleeping.
Enjoying my binge of repetitive negative thinking.

On cool, starry, fall, indigo-blue night walks, it’s so beautiful that it’s hard to believe we’re mid-catastrophe.

That sunrise will dawn on countrymen whose heavy burdens our national leaders won’t even publicly discuss much less address.

File hope under other names - we need changes and new leadership - hey, you adults - can we please just try a government of concerned professionals?

Remember summer,
as fun’s residue fades.
Well, try anyway.

Now we live prudent,
virtually schooled lives - it's
all a million laughs.

Humidity clings,
grasping, like an ex-lovers
unwanted embrace.

Get your bikini,
hit the pool, frolic - drown school
worries in cool play

How well I know this place
with its multicolored, sloping gardens
and glittering, fountained pools
but its beauty is fleeced by repetition

Loneliness tests the resolution of the young
with our howling appetite to experience
and be shaped by exposures.

Like the gleaming barrel of a gun,
the clock points at nothing
and the crimson sunset leads
to another empty, quiet night.

I’m waiting out the day
with minimalist hopes
and recycling anxiety.

I’m waiting for the hour
for a smooth transfer of power
or for things to go sour.

I’m waiting for the word
after a period of counting
for freedom’s call
or an accelerated freefall.

(each stanza is a haiku - I think I’m in a Haiku phase)*

I never think of
drinking tea - that's just not
me - but I like it

there are a thousand
things like that which define us
- our many small choices

Are our passions choices?
"Our wild passions instruct us"
- said wise Shakespeare.

I don't choose to
quicken my heart at the sight
of one special boy

so I'm not sure
how that works, the pushes and pulls
of attractions grab

But the effect stills
and taxes the heart like maple
syrup thickened blood