I wish
    I knew
       how
To mend your
            heart
   So you could
Start
       Mending mine....

I wish
     I knew
         how
  To show you
      you're worth
    Loving
       So you could
Start
       Loving me...

Do you know the world unseen?
The one that every human being
Takes for granted every day
As they go about their work or play

For I speak of things like morning mist
The flower in the breeze that twists
The way some clouds evaporate
Or that flake of rust on the old front gate
The struggling mum who needs a rest
The logo on her child’s vest
The smile that means “I noticed you”
A kiss that’s meant for no one’s view

For all these things are here to see
Yet focussed minds just cannot be
Sensitive to all that’s there
For overload would bring to bear
Such cacophony of life’s rich vein
That most just choose to see the same.

The exceptions, friends, are me and you
Who take the time, like poets do.


RD©2014

Stars so small in my eyes,
Yet so truly big you are, my sight sometimes lies.

So small we are,
We who think we have come so far.

Out beyond our sky is never ending black,
Said to be expanding, like it is on a track.

A theory states that the end will bring you to the start,
Kinda like the blood pumped from a heart.

But if the never ending black just keeps going,
What is the area in which it is expanding in, we are unknowing.

Consider the theory of which is like a shape of a sphere,
What is outside the sphere is not clear.

What is beyond the beyond?
No one knows, in which no one can accurately respond.

Though here we are in a world that does not make sense,
We heed it no mind or our sanity would be balancing on a fence.

But here I am as a stare at the stars that are big but look so small,
And I wonder about it all.

First line says it all
Second line says more
Third line is a little different
Forth line makes you sure

Fifth line takes you places
Sixth line has never seen
Seventh line is hasty
Eight line is a little obscene

Ninth line grasps the tone of Eight
Tenth line will make you blush
Eleventh line will stop and pause
Twelfth line will fall into the hush

There may be a thirteenth
or fourteenth or fifteenth line
a sixteenth or seventeenth
that might have left you blind

An eighteenth line that made you yawn
A nineteenth that made you smile
A twentieth that made you stop
reading for a while

A twenty first or twenty second
that commanded you go back
to the start

Or a twenty third and
twenty forth line
was what grabbed your heart

The twenty fifth line
undid all your beliefs
The twenty six line
walked down old streets

The twenty seventh and twenty eighth
crossed paths that were parallel
The twenty ninth and thirtieth line
knows stories it will never tell

Yet only the first line is read
the last line is the lie
that forces all the other lines
to just sit idly by

Fingers shake.
Scribble down one last thought.
Sigh of relief.
Lay envelope under pillow.
Eyes close.

This is a poem,
Like any other poem.
About a girl who met a boy.
Did they fall in love,
Yes,
They did.
They fell,
Like the rain.
Then,
One day,
The boy,
Smiled.
And that was that.
But,
The girl,
She couldn't forget.
She couldn't forget that smile.
And, so
She wrote to him.
A poem a day.
Everyday,
Before she slept,
Slipping them under her bed.
With each passing day,
The girl wrote a new poem.
And soon,
She became an old woman.
But,
The boy had also become old,
And, once again, he left,
Resting in peace.
When she found out.
The old woman didn't know what to do.
So,
She wrote one last poem,
And slipped it under her pillow.....

The old woman down the street had died.
Who was she?
No one came to her funeral.
Apparently, there were pieces of paper stuffed under her bed.
Its trash now.

though we are mere specks
on the globe each one of us
so significant