Thoughts of dreads came and went.
I fell asleep to dream.

No, not the infinite intestinal maze
with red, slimy, pulsating walls
forcing me ever-forward.

It was worse.

I was in my own bed with a big snake.
I was tangled in the covers and I couldn’t get away.

Flick, flick, serpent kisses to my face.
Slither, slither, as coils envelop.
I knew it was a dream but I couldn’t wake up.

And then I did.

There will be no litany of dreads,
No enumeration of my deepest fears.
No dark dwellings of my darker nature.
My secret fears will remain secret and deep.
Nothing more is needed,
Reality is tough enough.

I now know:
Beginnings have hope, and the tingle of the unknown.
Anticipation of something new, the frisson of the future.
The chance for change, an opportunity for action.
Building and creating something with my imprint.

Endings have consequences of compromise.

Beginnings are better than endings.

In the beginning there was procrastination,
and I can't wait to start putting that off.

To begin or not to begin that divides us all.

Deferring action never increases entropy,
and lengthens the life of the universe.

Completion happens once, but delay has no limit.

I'm not dithering, just exploring all the options.

This "beginning" poem has just been hijacked by hesitation,
and dragged down the rat hole of reluctance.

Oh well, there is always tomorrow.
One can always say, my muse took a snooze.

Just a glimmering of an idea--
No flesh, no bones, just a mirage in the distance--
But also commitment.
And so it begins, the beginning begins.

Collared for white collar,
To society I'm paying my dues
The Trump appointee Club Fed blues.

The beds are pretty clean and soft,
At Club Fed, they hardly cost

Shootin' shuffleboard, takin' a snooze
Just forgettin' the Club Fed blues

The **** beach aint just ahead
Club Fed just aint the Club Med

At 3-pm, it's tea and cake
Every night supper-- it's Trump steak
The cash register rings, it's all his take.

They're adding on to the Club Fed thing,
A spanking new Congressional wing

Having latte with a Trumper con
He whines,"I'm no Don,
I was just a pawn."

On the ladies side, want to meet
Lori, the College Admission cheat

No black ink pen tattoos
Just plain old Club Fed blues

Bill Barr and Rudy sit at table
Remembering when they were on cable
Just spinning another Ukrainian fable

Missing my 5-pm yardarm *****
A stiff price to pay, the Club Fed blues

When I leave it's to the Caribbean
To a fat numbered account
And I'll finally lose the Club Fed blues.

Love isn’t static
No, it evolves,
waxing and waning
to an uncertain end.
It can fade,
or it can continue to grow
and become something
truly wondrous.