My cup of tea is clean
My cup of tea is hot
Frothing and boiling, apt,
My tea and I are much alike.

I have my tea green because
I like to feel like the forest is close
It's sometimes the best way to keep
The hills in my mind.

My cup of tea is tasteful
And always at my side
But it cools too quickly
Luckily, my cup of tea never changes

Even when it's as cold as I feel
It's still just as sweet.

I need to wallow in
pain, agony, loneliness, tears.

Please, just shove me into a vat full of that.
I'll float, don't worry,
but I need some of that to
stop feeling so out of place,
and when I'm ready,
I'll come out.

prefer celery to carrots
light scrunch over an orange hard crack,
straw red over berries bluest,
coffee over tea,
skies white clouded
over
all clear, unadulterated uni-tone,
blondes, brunettes, redheads,
even pink or blue haired,
well, ain't going there
(wink wink,
too smart for that...)

but that's just me

colors viral virulent  over manhattan grey~black,
a good Pinot over a glass of Jack,
beach and sea undefined
over lake delimited, outlined bounded,
ocean caught fresh over farm raised,
city slick over country sweet,
striped bass over monk,
tuna bests salmon,
but both miso coated please...

Italian Indian Ethiopian
Sushi and occasionally Chinese,
all grand,
but my kosher deli and dogs, pickles,
yellow mustard ball parked,
tops them all
especially when serving
all-you-can-eat
over tasting portions...

but that's just me

right over left,
naked better than ****,
polite over rude,
Rembrandt tops Vermeer,
but his light nonethess,
extra over ordinarie...

Swiss over white American,
Gruyere beats goat cheese,
citrus tops apples,
sweet melon my
secret passion,
paprika and oregano,
never ever cilantro,
milk over OJ,
especially, grade A
milk of human kindness,
all flavors

love my poems centered,
(except for this one)
with no sugar added,
but a lot of cream and sweat,
both a necessity, not a luxury,
prefer mesmerizing,
crafting hard, laboring,
me writing, you imbibing,
leaving you oohing and loving
me
because of the appreciation built in
over
ditties that are semisweet
sugar nadas that populate the
easy come easy go away
poem of the day

but that's just me

like myself hard
cause when I melt,
to a child's grin shyest,
laughter silly me provoking
it is ever so better so...
tears, any kind, don't mind
laughing and sorrowing pouring,
let genuine be my only test
speed limit barrier unlimited

sorta saved a street crossing
phone-occupied-woman yesterday,
put my arm across her body
fast hard, unasked
so she wasn't
bicycle crashed,
both looks well received,
the *** and the gratitude,
but latter over former,
if I had to choose,
but I dont

but that's just me

Joanie M. over Judy C.,
Amy over Adele,
Eva Cassidy over all...
Zombies over Beatles,
Blunt over Taylor,
Rhyming Simon over Billy Joel,
no typos over flaring,
glaring no caring...

your poetry over mine,
cause it amazes,
cause mine,
just old familiar crazies,
just runaround Sues from yester pester days,
transcribed for a someday later
future grimacing laugh of
good god did I write that!

but that's just me

wrote quite the many
literary escapades
this morning,
like the yore,
good old days,
when every glance,
remark passing
made me run
to tablet them
in perpetuity ASAP

placed them before you
scattered thither and dither,
like all that jazz notes
running hands over planes geometric,
most just average,
but all there in hopes
you would love me better

but that's just me

sneaking inside you with
a wink, a tink-ering whimsy,
a stupid smile, a wicked sinning
humongous grinning
with a belly laughing,
havoc raising, me crazing,

*but that's just me

when you feel as
useless
as a white crayon

all you have
to do
is to find
that someone

who prefers
black paper

The snow is white, very bright
As bright as the clouds
Very soft, very cold
Very very very old

Snow is white, such a sight
So very bright and so very soft
Beautiful and filled with ice
Very very very cold

Clouds are white and fluffy
Very bright and very soft
Round, rabbits, elephants, shapes
Very very very old

Dear Cat,
It's mouse.
Do you remember the time you chased me?
You chased me with passion, and then you stopped.
You stood in the doorway, when I could've been caught.
Never chasing me, never strayed.
I gave in, and surrendered.
Still, you stayed far away.
Calling out to me in chants,
like you done no wrong.
What's this game you're playing?
What do you want?
I'm scared to leave this feeling behind.
Because all I want to do now is cry.