I could paint a rainbow on the moon
   Mozart came back to give me a tune
      climb in a conch shell and float its coral sea
         bring my Mom back to laugh with me
            I had a five-year old’s fancy and joy
               I giggled as free as a little boy
                  I could ride a buffalo on the great plains
                     course through Jesus’ veins
                         Chief Joseph advised me on a vision quest
                             I were never ever again depressed
                               Neruda came back to teach me to write
                                  I could take wing with butterflies in flight?

You are an ocean of love
I float and drift on your surface
but under your sparkling skin
teems an ineffable life
another world mostly unseen,
selfless, unsung, and undeserved.

But here I am not even skin deep.
Am I afraid
of drowning in your depth
of being overwhelmed
in my modest capacities?

Oh my love
even if I see only what you reveal
to the sighted
I saturate myself in your splendid shallows
and await those precious interludes
of your deeper touch.

I hear the piano playing softly
pulling me from these rutted plains
into a moist green meadow
a vision of a flowing brook down the hill
makes me believe the words of the Prophet:
“Your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.”
yes, I am old, but I see and feel the rising gentle treble notes
lighten my leaded limbs
awaken my spirit
and ****** me into the realms.
It is the touch and glide of the pianist’s fingers
across the ivory skin of the keys
that transports me
in the waning hours of this day.
How sweet it is!

I am broken
bent and misshapen
sad and lonely
dark side of the moon
not caught in undercurrents
but submerged in a bog
oxygen depleted.

Oh what a pitiful state
I’m embarrassed by myself
not s’pose to be like this
people need me to be upbeat and bright
not in darkness but in light
good for a laugh or a smile
wanna be with me a while
but this mournful me
like a salty dead sea
they’d rather not
I don’t blame them
I don’t even wanna be with me.

It’s dark outside
thunder storm rolling in
just perfect for my mood
I wanna thunder out loud!
Ridiculous huh?

Ha, oh what a putz!
Writing it all down like this
makes me want to laugh
at this oh so pitiful me.

I feel better already.
And here you are reading this
what a pure beautiful soul you are
obliging me by listening.

Now you can laugh!

Have a good day. 😊

I am bowed by the weight of bad news
tentacles of evil
creep in to wrap around me
like a dark cocoon
at mixed intervals each day.

Oh how I need love!
It is the only power greater
than the clouds dripping, pouring upon us.

The burning candle
its flickering flame
in the green glass
speak life to me
life within
beyond the reach
of threats and fear.

I bow to the light.

Love
love and its green flame
capture my attention
I adore it
and throw off the cloak of darkness.

Here I stand
now free
and open
in love.

This long month
lingers
unwilling to loose its deadly grip.

Or is it because there is still a flower to bloom
its magenta glory
to wash away
or dilute
the sadness
of this month’s decaying days?

A poem written of my pain
frees me of its chains.
Writing is the poet’s kiss
goodbye to darkness
and hello to bliss.