big bright green spider
on my drivers-side window-
you held me hostage

bold rolling thunder
lightning quickly strikes twelve times-
perfect 300

anyone know why
profile and cover photos
refuse to upload?

anyone know why
some poems are double posted
through no fault of ours?

Caregiver,
You came into our family
As a river of hope.
Ever flowing, always there,
Providing loving care,
So we could cope.

Caregiver,
You became an uncaring taker.
With your undue influence
You spent her money
On your own selfish wants.
Under false pretenses, you dragged her along daily,
Using her vehicle for your own personal errands.
Like a foe you fought our family
As we became wise to your machinations.
And when your goose was finally cooked,
Your last act was to vandalize in secret,
Leaving her heart broken.

Oh, Uncaring Taker,
How unconscionable were your actions.
How hateful you became.
Why were you this way?
How I would like to make you pay,
But it's her wish to leave it this way.

Beautiful downtown Atlanta
Sunny, blue, cloudless sky
Tall, wide, massive buildings
Window glass glistening in the sun
Beautiful, well-dressed people
Gainfully employed people
Taking care of business people
Running essential errands
Contributing to the community
Pursuing positive, purposeful lives.

I take in the sights, sounds, smells
Sounds of people walking, talking
Engines revving and car horns
Smells of restaurants and fast food vendors
Engine exhaust and overheated brakes
The feel of the sidewalk
Under my expensive dress shoes
The heat of the sun on my face and neck
The exciting hustle and bustle
Of a thriving metropolis.

A faint “Please, sir. . .” reaches my ears
And a homeless man appears
*****, disheveled, hirsute
“Please, sir. Could you. . .”
His weak speech trails off
As I divert my eyes, quicken my pace
Ignoring his petty pleas
As he disappears in my wake
Bothersome soul, good riddance
Why doesn’t the city do something?

Days later the encounter haunts me
I was so proud of the way I handled myself
How easy it was to dismiss a soul in need
Months later the encounter haunts me
Instead of the clever human
I had become cruel, inhuman
Unfeeling, unkind, uncaring
Years later the encounter still haunts me
Never will it ever happen again
Never. . . ever.

We're so fragile, I can't even think...

My love was dear to me and to the family,
Then came the enemy—Death.
I know the day is near when Death will disappear.
We'll welcome our loved ones again.

But we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.
Yes we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.

We're so fragile, I can't even cry...

It's so unfair and most difficult to bear
Fighting thoughts and emotions that won't end.
Pray for the day God will wash tears away
And our loved ones will be in our arms again.

But we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.
Yes we'll have to wait 'till then.
Death is the wage of sin.

We're so fragile I can't even speak...

The alarm blasts me awake
From a fitful night’s sleep,
Another day of bills to pay
And promises to keep.
Dropping Patanol in my eyes
As I attempt to slowly rise,
Feeling distinct deja vus
As my morning coffee brews.

And I make a mental note
To try and get more sleep
Then just as quickly forget
As I leave the room to eat.


Sitting at the breakfast table
Where I find that I am able,
To spend a few, quick minutes,
And rummage through the obits.
Is there someone I know?
And then right before I go,
Count how many are my age
Before I put down the page.

And I make a mental note
To eat less and workout more
Then just as quickly forget
As I rush out the door.


I arrive at my job.
Turn my office doorknob,
Begin my daily routine
Taking breaks in between.
And my boss storms in mad
Says “You did something bad!”

And I make a mental note
To do better next time
Then just as quickly forget
When I leave at closing time.


Returning home feeling famished
I notice some damage
To the roof and the doors
And the siding and floors.
And the gutters are hanging
And the shutters are banging.

And I make a mental note
To make time for repairs.
Then just as quickly forget
As I climb the porch stairs.


I finally make it inside
And after eating decide
To relax in the den
Before my favorite show begins
Then I notice God’s Word
On the table undisturbed.

And I make a mental note
To take time to read God’s Word. . .

Hey, wait!  I can do this now!

So, I open up God’s Word
“faith follows the thing heard”
And I understand the hope
That allows us all to cope

And I make a mental note
To read, meditate and pray.
The Holy Bible gives us courage
So we can face another day!

don’t get caught standing
you’ll fall backwards or forwards-
Ambien’s effect

St. Simons Island
beached Juicy Fruit gum wrapper. . .
flotsam and jetsam

renga or renku
a rose by another name . . .
haiku poetry

koi pond quietude
values and tones of zen stones...
find repose and peace

My memories took flight from Spring's rookery,
Nurtured by Summer's warm seas and
Trade winds soft under blue skies,
Reinforced by Autumn's harvest and happenstance

Pray my memories remain deep within me like a
Fortress securely established on a rock-mass,
High on golden hills, impregnable,
As Winter's cruel seas and merciless winds approach

Why do mechanics need manuals when they’ve fixed it before?
Answer my question or I’ll walk out the door!
Didn’t they attend trade schools or get O.J.T.?
Why need repair manuals?  That what gets me.
I just want a mechanic who won’t refer to a book.
Just fix my car already, don’t give it a second look!

Why do pilots run checklists and reference their charts?
Just push the dang button and hope the plane starts!
Didn’t they go to flight school and pass all the tests?
Pilots fly most days, so who needs all that mess?
I want a pilot who knows without referencing a chart.
Just get on with the flying and prove that you’re smart!

What about the doctors who are practicing still?
Why can’t they get it right?  And that includes the bill!
They’re always researching new studies in journals
When time’s better spent attending patients’ internals.
I just want a Marcus Welby, Ben Casey or Kildare
Instead of keeping up to date, I just want them to care.

Why do lawyers review case studies and legal decisions?
Such antics in my book leave them open to derision.
All that studying in law school should have been enough.
After passing the bar they should already know their stuff.
I just want an attorney who’s a know-it-all ace,
Not a book worm mouthpiece to plead my case.

Finally, the poets, being wordsmiths their art
You won’t see them referencing a checklist or chart
But look, in their hands, just what can that be?
A dictionary?  Thesaurus?  Are those what I see?
A real poet never needs help reading Shakespeare or Keats
Using Webster and Roget would make all of us cheats!
If a poet is real, the words should just flow
I think that all poets should automatically know
The right words to use, and literary crutches forgo
How dare they try better vocabulary to hone
They should come up with good things to say on their own.
I’m looking for poets who’ll just know what to say
Like Lewis Carroll’s poems in his heyday:
“Twas brillig, and the slithy toves, Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogroves, And the mome raths outgrabe.”

Don’t bother looking up his words, for that would be a dumb thing.
Using a dictionary or thesaurus, you might actually learn something!

A Tomcat and Queen fought over fiercely
Where to educate their brilliant kitty
They agreed upon two
CATS Boston and Purr-due
Thus avoiding a cat-astrophe

Maori legend
twisted pohutukawa-
the place of leaping

You say you love me but you’re not
You say you’re going to fight and give it all you got
You say you find it hard to breathe
You say you’re mad at me but I’m the one who seethes
You say you love me but you’re not (in love with me)

          ~ Tears falling, relationship flailing, love failing… ~


You say you need a place to stay
You say you’re asking me to find another way
You say you thought about the debt
You say you’re leaving but it hasn’t happened yet
You say you need a place to stay

          ~ The time, the hurt, the pain, the drain… ~


You say you overcame the jones
You say you’ve analyzed it to the bare bones
You say you finally found the cure
You say you’re righteous, clean, happy and secure
You say you overcame the jones

          ~ Familiar lies, thin disguise, love’s demise … ~


You say you love me but you’re not
You say you’re going to fight and give it all you got
You say you find it hard to breathe
You say you’re mad at me but I’m the one who seethes
You say you love me but you’re not (in love with me)

          ~ Tears fall, relationship flails, love fails…
             Familiar lies, thin disguise, love’s demise …
             This time, this hurt, this pain, this drain…
             Time runs out… no more to gain. ~

Telephone rings
Announcing your name
Caller ID pings
This is so insane
Selfish acts of subterfuge
Leaving us both confused
Despite the tightening noose
Calling you is what I choose-
I can’t let go

“Hi, how was your day?
What’s that you say?
Have I learned by now
How to play well with others?
What? No? I don't have to bother?”
(Your words stabbing like a shiv)
“You have your own life to live
You have your own love to give-
Just not to me?”

Somber thoughts of divorce
******* all my vital force
This will be such a blow
To the people we know
As mute as a mime
Losing track of real time
Zombifying my day
Hunting for quick getaway-
But no such luck

What shall I do thus
                    ~Telephone rings

If we fail to repair us?
                    ~Announcing your name

Lament inevitable loss?
                    ~Caller ID pings

Calculate incalculable cost?
                    ~This is so insane

I’m a solid secular success
                    ~Selfish acts of subterfuge

I’m a massive mental mess
                    ~Leaving us both confused

At least the former pays the bills
                    ~Despite the tightening noose

No use in crying when milk spills-
                    ~Calling you is what I choose

What’s done is done
                    ~I can’t let go

asylum seekers
abandon hope who enter-
Don T's inferno

(Dedicated to my Father, who was totally paralyzed
for 7 years before he died.)

I awake in the early morning darkness
Frozen, motionless, immobilized.
My eyes straining to see into the black void
Looking for any sign of my keepers
Listening for any kind of movement
Phantom images dart around me slowly at first,
Then multiple images spring from every direction
My heart racing, my breathing rapid and shallow,
Byproducts of fear and imagination
Running amok in the dark

My eyes focus on tiny lights incessantly blinking,
Reassuring my heart as the phantoms vanish
My ears register the intermittent beeps
And steady, determined droning
Of contraptions that populate my space,
Their sole purpose to prevent the outcome I crave

My nose catches whiffs of iodoform odor,
Penetrating, pungent, overpowering my sense of smell.
A cruel replacement for what once was
A weekly parade of fragrant flowers
That excited what few senses remain
The brightly colored blossoms
The sweet, fragrant smells
The delightful sizes and shapes
But the beautiful flowers have withered,
As concern for my plight has waned

I watch as the determined, dynamic sun
Deliberately dilutes the darkness,
Revealing the magical birth of a new day.
Is that delightful birdsong I hear?
The beeping and droning are maddening,
But I know there’s birdsong outside my window
I can’t wait until the moment arrives!

As if on cue my keeper appears
Busily going about her assigned tasks
My eyes following her every move
“And how are you doing today?” she asks,
Staring at me as if I could answer.
But I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized
In my mind I replay my daily reply:

"My existence is a never-ending cycle of
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Beep. . . blink. . . drone. . . beep
Blink. . . drone. . . beep, . . . blink
Drone. . . beep. . . blink. . . drone
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Dawn. . . daylight. . . twilight. . . night
Daylight. . . twilight. . . night. . . dawn
Twilight. . . night. . . dawn. . . daylight
Night. . . dawn. . . daylight. . .twilight
Penetrating. . . pungent. . . whiffs
Each boring minute an hour.
Each hateful hour a day.
Each wretched day a year.
Each torturous year a lifetime.
Ad nauseum. . .ad infinitum. . .ad mortem?"

Offering no response to my unspoken thoughts,
My keeper dutifully takes my vital signs,
Temperature, pulse, respiration, blood pressure,
Records the results, then walks to the window
My favorite time of day has arrived!
“We must open the window to freshen up your room.”
As the window opens my spirit soars, and my ears capture
The lovely birdsong, as well as other living sounds,
Along with a veritable potpourri of smells.
I can only imagine what is happening outside,
And I do imagine it as best I can

I close my eyes and try to make out each note,
Visualizing the source of each incredible sound,
Be it bird, animal, human, or otherwise
Who they are, what they look like,
What they’re doing, what they’re thinking,
The blinking, beeping, droning is finally drowned out!
With every breath, I savor each smell
And, with eyes closed, as I visualize
What’s happening in my mind’s eye,
A wonderful peace envelops me. . . comforts me

But, alas, this day will be crueler than most
Another keeper, a newer keeper, enters my room
“Oh, she’s fallen asleep” he whispers,
He closes the window, shuts the shades,
Then quietly leaves, shutting the door
I SCREAM A LOUD, LONG, PRIMAL SCREAM!
... in my mind
As I lie frozen, motionless, immobilized—   
Paralyzed

Noble heritage they cannot erase
Ancestor’s plight laid bare for all to see
Tribal identity etched in each face
Invincible spirit their pedigree
Various attempts meant to “civilize”
Expanding demands for more and more land

Pogroms by forced removal terrorized
Extreme suffering they had to withstand.
Their unshakable resolve saw them through
Providing strength to mitigate their fears
Lives lost, yes, their memory they’ll renew
Endless remembrance of the Trail of Tears.

There once was a man who

Thought he was a man but

He wasn't a man

He was a...

It’s been so long that we have been together
Though many years have passed I’m yours forever
I can’t stop thinking 'bout the fun we’ve had
Our life together is still super rad

It’s just a hurricane of love
          ~Coming our way~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Double red flag warning~
Just a hurricane of love
          ~Blowing us away~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Flooding our emotions~

This is the calm before the storm above
And we are trapped in an eyewall of love
Gusts of desire drive us to our fate
It’s way too late now to evacuate

It’s just a hurricane of love
          ~Coming our way~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Double red flag warning~
Just a hurricane of love
          ~Blowing us away~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Flooding our emotions~

These Cat 5 feelings we just cannot stop
Emotions whirling like a spinning top
Your riptide pulls me in so ever deep
Storm surge of love so strong it makes me weep

It’s just a hurricane of love
          ~Coming our way~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Double red flag warning~
Just a hurricane of love
          ~Blowing us away~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Flooding our emotions~

It’s just a hurricane of love
          ~Coming our way~
We keep each other wanting more
          ~Double red flag warning~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Blowing us away~
We’re not in Kansas anymore
          ~Flooding our emotions~
It’s just a hurricane of love
          ~Storm surge of desire~
Still a hurricane of love
          ~Rising higher and higher~

Still a hurricane of love…

**** and Jane phenomenon
Baby Sally - See Spot Run!  
Think-and-Do Book  leads the way
We Look and See
We Come and Go
We Work and Play

Until Dr. Seuss's smash-hit breakaway...

flipping baseball cards
in the flippin' school yard
pictures up, stats down
Drysdale, Koufax, Mantle, Spahn
or vice versa all around

retirement income source lost on the playground...

Al created the algorithm
One late night as Tipper danced with him
The thought came by chance
As they freestyle danced
Initially dubbed "Al Gore Rhythm!"

George Harrison
Quiet Beatle by comparison
Kermit the Frog was one of his peeps
Still his guitar gently weeps

John Winston Ono Lennon
From Britain to Brooklyn, decked in denim
Controversial through his political and peace activism
Felled by Mark David Chapman's act of barbarism

Robin
Kind husband, vigilant father, loving son, mischievous brother
Brother of Lizard and Kippie-bombs
Lover of Kahtabeak, Danbug and Benbot
Who feels joyful, happy and satisfied
Who fears brown recluse spiders, level 4 biohazards and tsunamis
Who would like to see an end to mourning, outcry and pain
Resident of Sherwood Forest
Hood

super blood wolf moon
Venus and Jupiter kiss-
howling for romance

constructive or destructive - criticism’s delicate balance

unmitigated lies exhumed - undocumented truth entombed

moustached monoku critic channels Seinfeld - no haiku for you

world's trouble

dark sky...

depression subtle

i deny...

emotions muddle

i sigh...

thoughts befuddle

i belie...

tears puddle

i cry...


God subtle

I comply...

Divine cuddle

I rely...

Believer's huddle

I ally...

Blessings double

Blue sky...

white cotton ball clouds
waltzing along deep blue skies-
ill wind steps on toes

A lady from Rentz thought it neat
Hoping in London the prince to meet
He passed her that day
Looking the other way
She'll have to go back to Rentz and repeat

The monster wanted love from the maiden
And gold that the townspeople paid him
When it came time to collect
Him the maiden did reject
To contain his wrath none could persuade him

A teacher with an always late student
Looked for ways to influence improvement
She tried best she could
But it did little good
Now the student remains mostly truant

A woman arrived early from Minsk
Hoping to get a nod from the prince
His procession went by
She never caught his eye
Now her fondness for him is past tense

A farmer who was looking for change
Produced limericks that were free-range
He achieved great success
His limericks were best
And gluten-free -isn't that strange?

kind poetry friend
your gracious uplifting words-
never a bother

happy or depressed
life is a balancing act
so easy to slip...
moods that fall can rise again
wait for tomorrow's new day

haiku loves nature
senryu human nature...
tanka expounds both
no matter how much I learn
I only know a whisper

A well-groomed matador José
Liked to moisturize with Oil of Olay
His hands lost their grip
The cape it did slip
He was gored as he cried out "¡Olé!"

I just feel regret unspoken
I just feel the pain
Since the day you left
My life has been a broken shell
A living hell

I just feel regret
I can't believe I let you go
It was foolish pride before the fall
The day you left when I lost all

I should have said I loved you
I should have made you stay
But I just stood in silence
And watched you walk away

And now I'm only left with my regret

Years have passed
My thoughts they haunt me
What we could have had!
Memories live in my head
But they're not real
And I feel dead

I should have held you closer
I should have made you see
The feelings I have for you
Just what you mean to me

But all I'm left with now is my regret

as Spring renews life
your kind words written to me-
my joy is renewed

time marches forward
reality's fire consumes-
dreams go up in smoke

24 begins with its cruel rule:
"No sustenance or quenching of thirst
until the sad/happy day passes."

Caring women with initials enter
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
While loved ones nervously watch.

Close friends, friends, and strangers
Phone and visit, offering their comforting words.
"We love you."  "We're praying for you."
"Make a pact with God."  "Chin up!"  "Happy Birthday!"

Their messages intermingle with disquieting thoughts
Of hopes and dreams left unfulfilled.
"Why me?"  "What now?"  "I knew it was too good to be true."
As hunger gnaws, and expectation is postponed.

A caring woman with initials enters one last time,
Poking, prodding, asking the same questions,
As the pushers of the bed arrive with their benign smiles.

Unwanted darkness returns,
As uncommon mortals work at their bizarre craft,
Opening the golden bowl,
Exposing its precious contents.

East and West Coast loved ones,
Separated by time and circumstance,
Carry on their prayerful vigil.

As 24 continues,
Surrounded by love,
Sustained by hope.

Hale-Bopp’s fly-by
midnight stroll St. Simons beach-
lovers gently kiss