help me find the paper
with the poem i need
it's a simple piece of paper
with a poem that must be freed
i am asking for my readers
not for want or greed
help me find the paper
and what i write...you'll read

right now, there's nothing on it
it's as empty as can be
i looked inside my closet
and no paper did i see
i found one under a bonnet
but, it wasn't one for me
the missing poem might be a sonnet
can't you help me find it please

the words i have aren't in my head
it's the paper brings them out
until the pen hits paper
i don't know what it's about
once the poem is finished
i can then stand up and shout
i found the piece of paper
this is the one.....no doubt

help me find the paper
with the poem i need
it's a simple piece of paper
with a poem that must be freed
i am asking for my readers
not for want or greed
help me find the paper
and what i write...you'll read

"Love is blind"
I wonder:
Is this a warning...Wisdom...
Dare I dream with my eyes open
Am brave enough
To allow your voice to guide me
When we both cannot see
What others see
When they look at us
Walking through the labyrinth

And who is lost
Who will lose
Who will come out
Who has the thread
Who's Love is wise?
Who's heart can stand
To embrace the Beast
To lose itself completely
Stepping into magnificent
Immortal, passionate Tango
Turning the Beast into Artist
Labyrinth into Castle
Where Love is just Love
Free to be as it is
However it feels
We'll never be lost

Don’t stare,
but
don’t look away

as if we don’t exist or
will disappear.

Don’t judge.
“So glad that’s not me”

It could be.

Don’t assume
“drugs”…”lazy”
“offer a dollar
it’ll go for *****”

You don’t know

Don’t presume to grasp
the reasons,
the whys the wherefores
don’t write us off
as useless,
worthless,

less…

If you can’t help,
don’t want to help,
are afraid to help,
don’t trust,

then

Just offer a smile,
A good wish or prayer

But acknowledge we exist,
we, too, are human.
We breathe, we feel,
We need…
trust and love,

Not disdain,
not even pity
if that is all you have
to give…

don’t…

It’s never easy for me
To live in the moment
When I foolishly push forward
To say I endured and lived certain moments.
That’s not what history is about,
That’s not what life’s about.
Yes, the more focus poured into the present
Can make the present feel longer,
Like waiting-in-line longer,
But waiting surrounds every breath
Of life. There’s no escaping that,
Whether it’s waiting at the DMV or waiting, literally in this case,
One second.
After all, does not the body wait
To finally be at rest,
Each day drawing the body closer to its rest?
I have waited for exciting mail to be delivered before,
Whether arriving to others as gifts or to me miscellaneously.
Trust is the key, trusting that the many processes
Will accomplish the goal.
So, what about now?
Please hold while your life is being planned for the next day.