“humility, the capacity to listen well. It requires building up trust”
<>

give me your most precious,
time
when the pensive, contemplative,
spirits are present
the strength of introspection rising,
the remarkable willingness to say
with humility
there is so much I have
yet to experience,
that
I am
needy for human exchange

I,
we,
must be willing to
trust
each other for the investment in
each other,
especially that
first time;

it is both instantly invested,
and forever spent,
and can only be recovered,
with lubricant ,
the sealant,
of
humility of
the most basic kind,
more!

a belief that each of us
in possess
something
of value,
each desirous of the
equality of exchange

THIS
is why I love these new poets
so, so much:
they come with the opening intra-opposition,
~
the debating team internal, infernal,
of fear, failure, rejection
but put the courage
to enter the sticking place,
and let themselves be adjudged

ah, we enjoy the risklessness of
faceless anonymity, escaping into the
void of  gone, never-was-here,
but that is only your failure

for who you are is
the courage to reply:

I think…
therefore
I am

expertise irrelevant, a knowing
recognition where & when & why,
venn diagram inflection points
intersect, and also confine

the nirvana nexus on a line of dots in a
movingly motion connected by a formula that
has an equal 🟰 in its muddly middle the man’s best sole instructions to her only

solve! me

when in an moveable interaction
the power of rushing baking cake & it’s filling
is akin to trying to hold back a bucking stream that cannot both be ****** or dammed

running words, making
you obsessed to remember
every detail, but commas only,
never a period interrupting continuity no
essential points of exit and entry

and yet…

you cold stop to breathe
wondering how came you
to be a container intertwining
motifs and motives, desires contradictory,
control contrives to be a
controversy pressured pressed
together, and you want to stop, go,
turnings to touch,
she be tablet and he the pen,
and you wrack to remember each
detail, the poem complete or will
confusions reign supreme
and all the fantastical
schemes are shot to
hell, ink spilled,
house doused

and she good naturedly laughs at you,
cause she knows poet better than himself
and forgives him his inspirational
dazes and gazes of confusion
because it is hard to give when
giving birth to
a dream’s obsessive demands
to love one more
than the other

each deserves no rival, just a final fini,
she wants the same, but the heart
is where he keeps hid, exactly
what she needs, so forgives a
little, because loving a crazy
man after all these years
is taking the excesses
costly cause that be
an insanity desired,
what she loves,
the dusky duo
inside him
a constant
battle re
fusing
resolving
the man’s contradictories,
that she cherishes him for
more, his mired mind, more and
laughs at mores, cause it is never ending;

his more is feature why she loves him very best, she showers and laughs, he rushes in
puzzlement featured on his face, so invites him in and as he falls to his knees in a watery
embrace, while grasping her hips, she
states with a finality: “‘
*”let us discuss the importance of proper endings”

<>
the wee little ones cry out loudest
fearful of being dying unnoticed
for they're not the stoutest
or profoundest

“we’re always among the forgot,
for we come so quick, oft left to rot,
as you street walk in the early morn
composing on and on and on

and our
sweet little rhymes, smaller than a dime,
oft arrive as twins or even triplets,
so fast and so furious,
they go unwitnessed
so we can’t be recalled,
stillbirthed, unborn,

therefore
we’ve decided to take you hostage,
treatied with your leggings,
no home return permitting
!
until we are recorded,
and given up for adoption”

P. S.
how do ya like them shorties now?

~it feels good to keep a promise~
~for AV~

<>
my expertise is at the PhD. level
for mine own experiments have
been less than successful by the
feedback periodically provided
O & Co-vertly over forty years

but a poem triggers, go figure!

and making morn coffee,
a task that teaches well,
that doing the prep is essential,
no shortcuts
for which we spend/waste years
looking for, and
realize that’s a hint to settle in
with a hot beverage,
this feels like it’s a longy coming

we know so much,
most i m p o r t a n t l y,
even how little we actually
do comprehend, and that
is importabt beyond belief,
learning to
choose counsel
that should be allowed
to pass under the bridge that filters
the crapshoot crap that pretenses
as smart and sound,
that should be
burnt & buried in an open pit

so what do fathers know?

- that finest firsts are so youthfully
under loved, under appreciated,
misperceived as endless,
the flush the rush the the thrusting
piercing of your composite composure
practiced protective skin,
cherish them firsts cause
they don’t last
because axiomatic that come
lesser, fewer, with every wrinkled day,
and sorry, time doesn’t make you bolder

- luck is a lottery ticket, the odds preposterous against you, but we
buy a ticket weekly because you
thinking this time is your time, sorry,
this lady sleeps around, a lot, a  
borderline *****,
who never asks
honey what’s your nane, because
they are thinking ‘bout the next
customer,you want it? you work for it,
and that never ever ends,
the odds
against ya never improve

- invest in discipline early and big time:
later when it will be desperately needed,
and twice as hard to obtain (can’t be bot,
no matter how much moola
you will
inherit)
and it make it habitual;
and discipline
is the entry card to unlocking the
unknown, the exceptional adventure

- thinking ‘know everything’ is a giant
no-no; this body of knowledge
you think you’ve earned by being
learned, is not as
valuable as one might
think (or feel)

cause knowledge is like a breeze,
on its way to somewhere else,
the cooling skin it leaves in its wake,
cools too quickly
and when you whine
“I know”
think this
”I no NOthing”

- that fathers oft say little, wordily,
so keep an eye out
for a raised eyebrow l,
a crinkling around the eyes,
a wrinkling nose,
they be  clues
meaning
ask me
more, later, when we deux
can pas alone

-peace of mind is
like watching waves
coming in;
ithey are long in the forming
and faster in dissolving,
they arrive piecemeal
but they keep on coming
in different shapes,
from different places,
but they do keep a-coming
and their power,
(erosion)
is the result of thousands individual
moments,
additive,
so you get pieces,
thru the unconscious
habit of accumulation
/\
here I’ll pause
to preach
makes a father thirsty
a fresh cuppa
seems highly desirable

oh yeah,
warmth can be received from blankets,
expensive ski jackets, wooly socks,
but its best when freely created
from within,
worn as you own & owned creation,
a reward for being wide open
ready,willing & able

one more thing:
find the best addiction
that bests you,
that thing will live
within forever,
like
writing poetry?
😉

so what do fathers know?

a lot, too little, never enough,
sometimes too much,
mostly good,
some awful,
just ask
find out
wonder
who will be more surprised
when you
do

a companion to “why do men cry in the bathroom? (1)
<>
even harder to understand, for it’s almost
unnatural, alone, unshaven, first glance, a small smile creeps ever so slow from
ocean to ocean, cheek to cheek, while the
lines on the face join in, quiet applause,
a satisfaction acknowledgement of mini~
minor proportions, a quick stock taking, a putting aside of the futures worries and the
currency of ever present daily woes,
a small pat on the back

<self administered,
(minimal) self admonishment>

we made it this far, while
juggling
so many acting parts
that we/he learned on the fly,
good luck and good instincts
for this exercise in adapting, becoming
an on the cuff, father, wise-man, little league
coach, protector+defender no matterwhat,
a font of knowledge who gets ignored,
cept
for delayed hugs that slowly dawn and get
inserted when never expected,
shoulders for carrying two at a time,
a reassurer when the world is spinning crashing and
the watch alerts stop this blurting
and get
the their act together again for the
curtain going up when the individualized
symphony of alarms, buzzers and rock ‘n roll anthems pronounce the blessings of morning and
another opportunity to get it wrong,
but make it right,
saying no with loving reassurance
that someday the yeses will be for real,
delivered with that same smile when the unexpected delights and in the eye corner
he observers a version of happy love in an unreservedly small  format that has value above everything else

and even with all the deep day saturations
and self salutations
he cuts himself carelessly
shaving and the focus of wskeup calls and
tender shaking, comes back like a slap to the
fresh bleeding face, and all of the above took
maybe
10 seconds
ten great,
and!
all of  ‘em
firsts ~
no seconds here