If I could hold you close
would I rip your clothes,
or run my fingers through your hair?
I think I prefer to love you from afar,
my guiding star, my Beatrice.
From you would I steal a kiss?
That would just make earthly my heavenly bliss.
I know what I love is more than you,
you are only a symbol
of what’s beautiful and true.

We revolve in twin orbit, fan and star.
Love is like gravity,
bending space and time,
locking us in a dance--
spinning in rhythm, a cosmic balance--
what seems like great distance
bridged by the knowledge
of a fast-beating heart.
Together we glow more brightly than apart.
And between us there is no night,
only heat and fire and light.

We **** by pushing a button.
WE DIE RUNNING FOR COVER.
We are fighting for our country.
WE ARE FIGHTING FOR A COUNTRY
Our sons fear deployment.
OUR CHILDREN FEAR BOMBARDMENT.
We bury our dead in the national cemetery.
WE DISCOVERED A MASS GRAVE.
Our war is raising the national deficit.
OUR MARKETS HAVE NO FOOD FOR SALE.
We proudly display our flag.
WE'VE BEEN ARRESTED FOR DISPLAYING OUR FLAG.
Our mothers grieve for their sons.
OUR PEOPLE GRIEVE FOR THEIR VILLAGES.
When will our soldiers return?
I WATCHED MY HOUSE BURN.
Our son came home in a coffin on a plane.
WE BURIED A PIECE OF FLESH THAT WE GAVE A NAME.
We saluted the soldiers marching in uniform.
OUR SOLDIERS DRESS LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE.
We carefully weighed the costs and benefits.
WE DECIDED THERE WAS NOTHING TO LOSE.

There are two sides to every story,
said the husband to the cop.
She annoyed me ’til I shot her;
how else could I get her to stop?

There are two sides to every story,
said the burglar at his trial.
They had the stuff I needed;
they’ll only cry a little while.

There are two sides to every argument,
said the person without facts.
I’ve a right to my opinion;
I’ve no need my brain to tax.

There are two sides to every story, but,
both may not be of merit.
If one side’s without value,
let’s not waste the time to air it.

I want to write a poem about Palestine
but I have no words.
The nouns are drenched in blood.
The verbs are obscene
and the adjectives unspeakable.
The sentences have no end
and there is no punctuation.
I am having trouble pronouncing
my own name.

Your face is lined;
your brows are white.
You’re facing down
your long twilight.
Your tummy has a little bulge--
I see marks of what you
used to indulge.
Your teeth aren’t white;
your hair is thin,
but I believe that you’ve won
the struggle within.
There are bags
underneath your eyes,
but that gaze now is
so much more wise.
You don’t stir my blood--
the blood of youth--
but your words today
speak realms of  truth.
Love is left
when lust is gone,
and this love will last
‘til the world is done.

Werewolf

I’ll trek through the woods and find a wolf pack.
I’ve got a simple strategy for a quick attack.
I’ll **** their Alpha and feed them deer;
I’ll become the new Alpha and I’ll rule through fear.

I’ll lead my pack with my bow and arrow.
We’ll eat the moose’s liver and **** the bones’ marrow.
We’ll hunt together by the cold moonlight.
I’ll plot the course of the season by the stars of the night.

We'll eat the flesh of those who dare come near
in the dark frigid dawn of the early New Year.
I’ll hunt down stragglers and set their bodies burning;
it’s survival of the fittest in this wicked world’s turning.

My dogs will howl at the moon by the edge of the cliff;
they’ll be the rhythm section while I play my riff.
Don’t come near us, don’t try to follow:
Steer clear of my pack, or you’ll have no tomorrow.



The Retort

So, you’ve got some silver bullets in your automatic Glock.
I hate to give bad news, and this might be a shock:
But I’ll take your silver bullets—
I’ll wear one as a pendant.
As for the rest of you—
they’ll only find a remnant.

Mating Season

I shed my human form, to meet you in the night.
We tread into our lair, within a limestone secret cave.
No one knows the site, except the watching grey-black owl.
We circle and we nip, with loving tender bite.
I smell your musky scent and hear your throaty growl.

Alpha Alpha pair, there are only two of us.
I’m the queen and you’re my knight
(but with no shining armor bright).
Instead, a coat of grey and white.

And when our rendezvous is done
we’ll greet the others at  the cliff
and all howl in unison.

You’re so polite
and always on time.
Your smile is bright
and lunch is on your dime.
You’re thoughtful and smart--
so intellectually inclined.
I’m rough-edged,
and sometimes offend.
I’m moody and fiery;
I don’t like to pretend.
I might jump to conclusions;
I’d rather break than bend.
But if you were in trouble,
I’d be there on the double.
If trouble fell on me,
you’d tell me plainly
that you’ve got other obligations
to your job and your relations.
So this message I will send:
This friendship must end.
I’ve got no use
for a fair weather friend.

What could I do to take your pain away?
You counsel others, but it’s yourself you’re talking to.
I see you nervously fiddle with your wristband--
I’m pretty sure I know what you once tried to do.

I wish I could share my healing skills--
there’s no one whom I want to help more.
But we’re far apart. It’s me who is helped by you.
Someone else must unlock your secret door.

Freud once said: It is love that cures the patient.
But can we truly love at will?
Take the love that’s freely given,
and banish what has made you ill.

I type my poems in Microsoft Word,
Which capitalizes when I don’t want it to.
Microsoft capitalizes on its digital monopoly.
Monopoly is a board game about capitalism
that I played as a child with tokens and play money.
But I spend real money on Microsoft Word.
I don’t want capitalism to rule my world.
My world needs rules. Such as, the writer decides when to capitalize.
Capitalizing Word makes it a brand name.
A brand name is copyrighted, as are my poems.
But do  I own the copyright to my poems in Microsoft Word?
Word has it that if Monsanto seeds blow onto your farm,
the plants they become belong  to Monsanto.
Word.

Found among Dad's things while cleaning out his condo. He died at the end of December:

EXHORTATION TO A TROPICAL FRUIT

Go
Mango!

AT THE HEALTH SPA

Virginia slims
Virginia's limbs

THE ULTIMATE CHALLENGE

The daredevil
Dared evil.

LEBANON

Malicious
Militias

THE HOSTESS AND THE BASKETBALL PLAYER

Julia serving
Julius Erving