There's something about the
one who stays alone,
separate from most
authentic connection

the Monk in the cave,
a gentle withdrawal
from the collective
buzzing

to find and confront the one,
who was buried away
for so long,

the silent Monk sought
a higher truth,
and into himself
he went

I'm still ripping out my eye lashes
It makes me sad.
I lay and wonder about the woes I cast
and why I feel so bad.

Reflection is a tricky thing.
It can bring up so much, but is never-ending
Like the hyphen between never and ending
Reflection is a process that loops.

You can feel as if you're on top of the world
Once you've climbed out of a pit after reflecting...
only to fall into a ravine after taking a few steps outside instead of running.

The journey to healthy is a tough one.
I feel like I'm splashing in this gorge
Flapping and flailing around,
trying to escape and get warm

Overtime, I slow down more and more
until finally, I want to give up
Succumb to the bubbles...
and perhaps, never wash up.

Must Be Donald
(sung to “Must Be Santa)

Who's comb-over looks like *****?
Donald's comb-over looks like *****.
Who scared us witless on election night?
Donald scared us witless on election night.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump

Who's got a tie that's long and red?
The Don has a tie that's long and red?
Who pays hookers to *** on beds?
The Don pays hookers to *** on beds.
*** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

Who's got hands tiny and slight?
The Don has hands tiny and slight.
Who spews lies out day and night?
The Don spews lies out day and night.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
*** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

Who's got a vocab small and trite?
The Don has a vocab small and trite.
Who whines Fake News out of spite?
The Don whines Fake News out of spite.
Small and trite. Out of spite.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
*** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

Who likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD?
The Don likes tweeting SAD SAD SAD.
Who likes a spanking when he's bad?
The Don likes a spanking when he's bad.
Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD,
Small and trite. Out of spite.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
*** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

How many minions leave today?
So many so far went their way.
Kelly, Ellis, Powell and McEnany,
Meadows, Hall and soon Giuliani.
Leave today. Gone their way.
Bad, bad, bad, SAD SAD SAD,
Small and trite. Out of spite.
Day and night. Tiny and slight.
*** on beds. Long and red.
Election night. Looks like *****.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald.
Must be Donald, Donald Trump.

The scent of new snow
To Inhale exquisite
Hints of other worlds

Dance while you still can
Let the music whisk you in the air
Let your arms be wings
Fly, sway and swing
Dance without a care

Dance while you still can
Do the shimmy, be your own star
Feel the rhythm and the beat
Let the notes tickle your feet
Spin like Mars, forever stellar

Dance while you still can
Beat the blues and the grays
On your own or hold a hand
Dance while you still can
Dance while the music still plays

In the soft tinkling of the piano
I hear the gentle peace
of the meadow
and feel the breeze
tickling the hair on my arms.
In the coffee the rich warmth
and wisdom of my muse
trickles down my throat.
The noise of the day
switches off
reshaped into the fullness
and unbridled breadth
and splendor
of the universe.