Wish I could read every book
In this world.
Wish I could shake every hand
That hasn't harmed an other
Unjustly.

If only I could press that heart-
Shaped button for every poem
I read,
And inhale every poem of every
Poet that ever pressed one
Under any of mine.
And those of any that didn't.

I see gems with each scroll.
Bits of lives, heartbeats,
Some broken, some healing,
Some full of nothing but
Gratitude. Some filled with voids.
So many laughs. I wish I could
Share your every one
With you.

If I try to hold on to it all,
I'll lose my mind.
And track of my time.

I see poetry in every post.
Wish I could comment on them all.
Some I may not fully agree with,
But praise to all that write.

I have been gifted with so much
Response from so many.
I've tried to reply and thank
Each one,

But I am just one man.
A tired construction worker with
Band aids on every finger
At times.
Their tips hurt from sharp screws,
Hammer blows and rushed
Carving, then typing.
Head from digging in these
Second language parts
Of my simple Norwegian
Workman's brain.

Living a full, fantastic life.
One that I cherish
To write about.
To share. To express to myself,
And in the same breath
Anyone wanting to read.
I suppose we all carry some shade
Of that same feeling.
That's why we're here.
To share.

This site has been more than
Therapy to me.
It has been a home.
A sanctuary.

Some small, huge egos
Cry for fairness and attention,
Mouthing the three ugliest
Words I know:
What
About
Me?

But dark shapes in contrast
Create fulfilment within the art.
So what the hell, all balloons are
Mostly nothing but air. Anyway.

I hope I have inspired some.
I know I have made others feel
Neglected and unappreciated.
Well, it's a dance floor
Full of toes, and it's only human
To have a left leg or two.
Nothing's worth taking too
Seriously. I should know.
I have.

I'll still dance my heart out,
Laughing along with all others
That do. It's a Kindergarten
Universe. Play. Eat. Nap.

I thank you for every Follow.
Each and every Like and
Comment.
Every Collaboration.
Every Unfollow.
Every Block.
A full life is full of everything.

We are all single humans. Yet
Not one is here alone.
There's poetry dancing in
Your every
Movement.
There's life in every heart.

I love words.
I love life;
I love your every
Heart.

i found this little poem
sitting unattended,
alone,
on a bench at
the bus station.

when i said hello...
the relief and elation,
on this little poem's face,
made me feel protective
of this, orphan creation.

so i took this little poem
home...
no longer lost,
it thrived
from three lines to five
and before
we wished it
happy cinquain
it had doubled in size,
again.

full, rounded verse,
in cursive copperplate.
as it entered puberty
its moods swung,
between...
love, anger, hate
and then struggled gamely through
depression angst and fear..
all jots and tittles,
with future, unclear.

but eventually it matured
as we all do....
into a thoughtful expression
of beauty and love,
a strong and independant
statement of grace.

and then it was time,
to say goodbye....
the little found poem,
needed to leave
and find it's place,
in the wider world.
needed to find
and impress a girl.

it said it needed,
to make a splash...
grab some cash...
it promised not
to become, just a jingle...

and to write when
he could....

but til then.... anon...