he does not know
how soft his lips are
how tender pressed against mine
how the corners of his eyes crinkle
when he shuts them to put his face onto mine
how my lipgloss leaves sparkles on his nose
how his eyelashes tickle my cheekbones
all these little things he does not know

not yet
waiting for night
and a family gathering

Strange place, strange ways, each stay away!
Then why are there two roads to take?

The maps and paths, and followed tracks.
And Google, Waze, we trust their facts.
Turn left, turn right we let it steer.
To miss a turn, we start to fear.

Across to tolls, collect control.
Like little soldiers, do as told.
Planned flights and crowds, comfort in traps.
Are we confined in our skin wraps?

Some lost, pretend to just be found.
Some found, act lost, pretty profound.
To take that step, the unprotected.
To turn towards, the unexpected.
A wasteful plan, we must forget it.
Insane repeat, and do we test it?

Misdirection, to find us love.
Misdirection, to find us trends.
Misdirection, finds ideas.
Misdirection, to find us friends.
Misdirection to free in stress.
Misdirection leaves no regrets.

Let one misdirection find you.
Let one misdirection guide you.
Let one misdirection define
And be the reason, you are you.

What is wrong with dark blood?
Black, I might say darker that port wine
I often watch as the patients
take their last breath
Some of them tried so hard to catch it
But, for some they just let it go slowly
with a few moment of puff:

I looked left to my coworker and
We knew what those looks meant:
Dialysis will most often be short term

There are moments when I  would walk out of the room
Just craving for an imaginary cigarette,
A sip of beer, but I often settle for a refreshing
Glass of coconut water from the husk
Costly, but it’s worth every penny.

Life is a complicated status, no attachments, no buffering
So lets us make amends in a letter and post it to you
Or hide it in a hole in a tree;
Even burn it and toss it the air

I guess my imagination is intense,
Always seem so inspired, and
As you know my words is cheaper than usual
I am a word seeker, a self-made poet
a thinker not a talker….  Like the statue
The Thinker Monumental
1903… Auguste Rodin(1840-1917)

One loves my friends……..

Shadows are taller
run-ups are smaller
throws don't go any far

morale is lower
bat moves slower
no more can hit a sixer.

Muscles aren't sturdy
movement is tardy
lethargic feet hardly run

only lean patches
missed easy catches
nobody says well done.

Can't see it clear
from daze of fear
fumbles my unsteady bat

the opponents dance
they don't miss a chance
the field shouts how's that!

I have a feeling
this body ain't willing
to run on the green anymore

yet the ****** mind
still hopes to find
one last three figure score.

Whose name is on your lips when
You think of ***? : The man in bed next to you
or the hunk you saw walking down the street yesterday?
It has nothing to do with the hunk on the street
Or the man in bed next to you
It’s the joy of fulfillment,  

Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows
For heaven's sake, it’s more to it than just letting it lay there,
Just for his enjoyment

As most usually calls it quickie, why not take time to
To Sautee the meat, and sipped the wine until the end
Instead to throw one back for a little relaxation session

When a tweet, no longer comes from a bird.
A message, no longer written in words.
A picture, determines your current worth.
A swipe, is not for payments against earns.

Your world, no longer restricted to earth.
Your voice, can control your universe.
Games, without company, a box.
Books, used to be written, forgot.

Love was in letters, not characters.
Eyes looked straight, not down.
Communication, in touch were sound.
Reactions, were not button frowns.

Food shared, not delivered.
Noise surrounded, not muted.
Hands shaken, not email awaken.
The world was claimed, but not hidden.

An automated world,
not an automated me.