What is it about early in the morning?
Why is there a romance
in the girl
sitting over there
with a cup of coffee?
Why is her existence the very romance that I crave?
Why does every bite SHE takes
Make me ponder marriage?
I don't even know this girl
But she sure is romantic.
Early morning romance is evil
With its slithering tail of deceit.
She's not perfect,
I could name every flaw.
But in that moment she is the most perfect girl I've ever seen.
Early morning romance
you unjust-seductress.
Forcing the sun to act as Cupid
Winding the wind so it whispers silent melodies
Arranging an extra table in between us so that it becomes THE boundary that I cannot cross.
Early Morning Romance
You are an evil maniacal *******, Using my heroine as your puppet...
You offer me hope,
For my impossible romance.
You dangle this
unreachable sublime dream
Right in front of me.
And then she leaves, and my life!
Becomes real again.

the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.

the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.

but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.

they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.

but the price is
terrible.

sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.

You're the princess in the tower.
You're the minutes in my hour.

You're the question and I'm the answer.
You're the music and I'm the dancer.

You're the lie and I'm the truth
You're the evidence and I'm the proof

You're the tear beneath my eye.
You're the reason that I cry.

You were addicted to cigarettes
And you talked about how bad it was
How addictions were bad for you,

But soon, I became addicted to you
And you were right,

Addictions are bad for you.
They just end up hurting you

A.K.

I think I am
falling in love
with myself
again.

Life walks by
and in a useless longing
I dive into the crowdy time.

Then, unexpectedly,
a chord fills my mind,
words arise together
sieging me in opacity,

in a growing uneasiness
of a mouth full of marbles
that finally fall
with a heart rythm
as omen stones of a sybil voice.

[14.11.14]

It's around midnight
My feet kiss the cold, hard floor
I should have worn socks

I have loved this time of year since the moment of my birth;
Its panoply of colored leaves that flutter down to earth.
I’ve loved the cool and bracing breeze, the fruits of harvest grown,
the sight of geese in Vee formation winging their way home.
My treks out to the cider mill for a warm mug or glass.
The times I’ve spent reflecting upon this year just passed.
I raise the collar of my coat against a sudden chill.
I feel cold winter’s icy breath drawing nearer still.
Please delay the Christmas tunes another week or two.
Oktoberfest is barely done, so sit and have a brew.
****** me not with chestnuts roasting on an open fire.
Winter just means shoveling, the snow piled ever higher.
Its days: short, dark, and dreary. Its nights are long and cold.
So I mourn Autumn’s passing with its gifts of red and gold.

Life contracts and death is expected,
As in a season of autumn.
The soldier falls.

He does not become a three-days personage,
Imposing his separation,
Calling for pomp.

Death is absolute and without memorial,
As in a season of autumn,
When the wind stops,

When the wind stops and, over the heavens,
The clouds go, nevertheless,
In their direction.

In Oklahoma,
Bonnie and Josie,
Dressed in calico,
Danced around a stump.
They cried,
"Ohoyaho,
Ohoo" ...
Celebrating the marriage
Of flesh and air.