Pitter patter on my window pane
The rain is my solace
It keeps me sane

From the truth of my loss
And the little I’ve gained
Pitter patter on my window pane

Pitter patter on my window pane
It’s ceasing right now
I’m getting insane
Is the heartache I’m feeling
Worth the price of giving
Pitter patter on my window pane

Pitter patter on my window pane
The freedom I gave
Is my sentence of shame
Because I am not strong enough
To pretend I am tough
So please don’t stop the
Pitter patter on my window pane

Peculiar Spring
Seeps through my skin
Invades my soul
And garrotes me within

Unhurried strangulation
My spirit weakens
A rush of horror
At the sight of the Warden

He's cloaked in death
Speaks with decaying breath
"It's all foredoomed
I'm threading this path"

Limbs frozen stiff
Hasten, flee … if
Death travels swiftly
Radiating a putrid whiff

A nipping hoarfrost
Spring slays those embossed
Come Summer, come
Before I completely exhaust

This peculiar Spring
Its nature - bristling
Beneath a flaccid quiescence
I'm being garroted within

It was a wildly windy evening
The trees were articulating the conditions
With rhythmic sways
And crispy rustling
To the chorus of native wind chimes
And the trills of resident song birds

It was only mildly chilly this evening
Light wind jackets and caps were in fashion
The sky was a smooth glow
Of delicious blood orange hues
Punctuated by the first triumphant flight of a little girl’s kite
And the shrills of such a monumental moment

Light drizzles gently brushing on my cheeks
Misty pitter-patters
A butterfly flutters
A solitary stroll in the orchard of mystique
The dewy grass glitters
I am Mother Nature’s daughter

I saunter in the womb of the cherry orchard
Light-hearted tip taps
The squirrels take their catnaps
Gaily skipping under the falling blossoms
Spinning with laughter
Time is not a factor

From a distance, a pianist plays a chirpy tune
The jazzy anthem
A tune of welcome
Arm with passion, I caper windward
One with the flowers and trees
The birds and the bees

Mild winds gently combing my tresses
Soft, rhythmic strokes
My senses they provoke
Then reality came in a soothing ring
My baby calls
Oh, my busy, silly goofball!

As golden gleams of summer fade away
Then on the backs of falling leaves alight
Pallidity becomes the autumn day
And languor shrouds the cold and listless night

As fog benights the lonesome starless sky
I perch here on the window pane reclined
The songs of stridulating crickets pry
Into my solitary mind and find

It hard at work and trying to devise
Elaborate schemes to get out of this place
To where there're lizards, hummingbirds and mice
I feel the urge to hide, to hunt, to chase

Until dawn breaks the shackles of this blight
I'll be here mooning till the morning light

Maybe yes
Or maybe no
But most of the time
I do not know
A bathmat from a litter box
Let alone what the future holds

What’s the worst
And what is best
To put it quite frankly
I couldn’t care less
I’m asleep most of the day
And eating or grooming the rest

Slightly more
Or slightly less
Truth be told
I think it’s all B.S.
I have to take another nap now
So leave me out of your sordid mess

Perhaps someday but not today
You'll heed the calling of the land
And feel it reaching out for you
The way it summons my soul too
Then, perhaps then, you will ---
Take me to the park

The cloak of snow that clothed the park
Is mud and slush on paws today
On socks, sweatpants, and sneakers too
And that just doesn't work for you
Not a drip or a drop should ever land
Not a dip or a dot would ever will

The cat is preaching about free will
The thing that will lead me to the park
"Find it and you can go today"
"Wouldn't you like that too,
In truth, wouldn't you?"
He gets off his high horse of a perch and lands

While he's off to see how lies the land
I remain - supine - wondering if you will
Take me to the park ---
Take me to the park today
Hoping you'll say, "Yes, I'd love to go too.
I'd love to go with you."

At the hour of habit, I wait by the door for you
To take these paws from cut pile to land
But the taper of your knitted brows today
Leaves no room, no prospect for the park
You open the door and to your will
The sky spits a resounding dissent too

The two-timing tabby chimes in too
"I'll give up if I were you"
But all I can think of is my paws on the land
All I can think of is if you will
Take me to the park ---
Take me to the park today

Perhaps later today you'll hear it too
The call of the land beckoning for you
Then, perhaps then, you will take me to the park

Poem number forty-eight
Does practically nothing to abate
The current unemployment rate
Or the budget deficit of this state

Poem number forty-eight
Incites no reactions at any rate
Is neither a subject of public debate
Nor a reflection of the people’s psychological state

Poem number forty-eight
Carries absolutely no moral weight
It doesn’t shed light or illuminate
Or trigger one’s desire to contemplate

Poem number forty-eight
Really isn’t all that great
Because I've nothing to update
I guess you will just have to wait

Dear Mother

I must confess a secret sin
It may sound foolish
You might just grin
And should these words
Make little sense
Please tell me so
Avoid any pretense

I slipped into your skin today
How the weight of time wears
In memory's ***** I sought to lay
Antecedent memories I tried to bare

But I could not comprehend

A Pizzicato journey
Well-paved walkways
The darkest alleys
Waves of variations
Like the untried
Unconquered waters
Ripples and swells
Of every known emotion
And more

I slipped into your shoes today
Memory lane I threaded
It's not an intrusion I must say
But a lesson from the learned

Though I still could not understand

Interludes and episodes
I would never fathom
Actions, reactions
I failed to decode
Highroads, crossroads,
Byroads, no roads
Turbulence in truckloads

Pardon the rhyme
Allow me to switch modes

I slipped into your past today
And caught a glimpse of you
Like the most delectable spread
I feasted on the fleeting view

Yet that does not mean I comprehend

But when time unfolds
The truths to behold
In subtle forms
Or atomic bombs
Should I discern
The right lessons to learn
I'll go with the flow
I'll let you know

Spring is a frail garment
In soft, sheer verdance
Dyed with chastely pigments
Laced with gentle fragrance

Half a breath held
The other half pacing
Your fists are clenched
Your neck muscles, tightening
You become lightheaded
As your heart starts racing
Less carbon dioxide
Sends a million thoughts flying

Then you realize
You're no longer holding
The other half breath
That you were repressing
You enlist help from your stomach
While your chest is heaving
Now you're
FULL ON
     DOWNRIGHT
          HYPERVENTILATING

And as your heart pounds
Your eyes, rapidly blinking
Your mind's befuddled
By all that's happening
That you totally lose track
Of what you were thinking
Except how to stop
Yourself from hyperventilating

December, December
Now, I remember
You're the annual pilgrimage
On a road steeply cambered

Strange things happen in the house next door
The charming little one with country decor
And a darling kitchen with wallpaper galore
That once was vacant and now no more

Strange things happen in the house next door
Loud thuds and footsteps on their wooden floor
Opening cabinets and slamming drawers
In the morning at half past four

Strange things happen in the house next door
That neither logic nor normalcy can account for
I wish it were empty just like before
'Cause I don't sleep well anymore

The color of Spring
Is such a beautiful thing
It makes my heart leap out and sing
For the wondrous joy that it always brings
As wind chimes ****** and church bells ring
My soul takes swift flight on seraph's wings

I've been out in the fields these days
Strolling and bathing in the Sun's rays
Dreaming of you as I lay on cottony hay
"Are you thinking of me too," softly I'll pray
And with a gentle voice you will call and say
The sweetest of words in your own special way

The air of Spring
Oh what a lighthearted feeling
It makes my spirit go a-bubbling
As I watch birds glide in the early morning
And the glowing amber sunset in the cool evening
My emotions are set in fluid motions from reality slipping

I've been recalling our times together
Laughing, teasing and feeling so hyper
There wasn't a dull moment, Oh no never
For our love only gets much stronger and better
It's sort of like Tide with a new, improved formula
We'll be on the supermarket shelves forever and ever

It's not a store-bought card that matters
But the words you mean to say
And I think you put it perfectly
When you say it everyday

It's not an annual reservation
At a fancy-schmancy place
But trips to our favorite joints
Where I can freely stuff my face

It's not the occasional vacation
To a plush, romantic place
It's spending every night together
In each other's sweet embrace

It's not the lavish gift of diamonds
Or an exorbitant bouquet
But priceless effort behind the daily grind
That undeniably conveys

Just how much you truly love me
In your own peculiar way
And since you do it all the time
I bet you'll keep it up today

Have a happy, HAPPY Valentine's Day!

It’s eleven a.m.
I’m in yesterday’s slip
I awake to the sound of the dog licking his lips

He’s in the room
At the edge of the bed
With an unobstructed view of my delectable head

I follow his stare
Which travels down my hips
His stomach churns, his saliva drips

Suffice it to say
If he's not swiftly fed
Yours truly here will soon be dead

We were out at the mall near home
His eyes glued to his phone
His body was there
His mind, elsewhere and
His soul was free to roam

We were out at the mall near home
Which he calls the Women’s Zone
But I’ll come with you, dear
Wait for you in this chair
When you’re done, we will go home

We were out at the mall near home
Past the cakes and ice cream cones
Within minutes, I hear
ENOUGH OF WHAT'S HERE!
LET'S SCOOT AND LET'S GO HOME!

From the mall we were headed home
Baffled by the sudden change of tone
I started to tear
A familiar scene appears
And I awoke in my bed at home

Here I lay in the dead of the night
All is calm and all is still
I toss and turn beneath the sheets
And count the seconds till

Sleep takes over flesh and bones
So I won’t be here all alone
Wide awake and listening
To my screams, violent and shrill

These are the hours of woken dreams
When silent screams
A recurring theme

Or so it seems

These are the hours of trepidation
The longer the wait
The greater the apprehension

That it just might not happen

It begins with just a kind word
Softly spoken like a gentle touch
Words that make the heart stir
Like 'I adore' and such

If the heart realizes that
You love it very much
Then you need not go much further
To get the heart to budge

With each and every whisper
Let the heart be its own judge
It will inch a little closer
If it feels your kind words' nudge

I meant to write a rhyme for you
The day you came around
But I had so many things to do
Too caught up to expound
The reason why I didn’t write that rhyme
When Saturday came around
But by then you’d left without a clue
And could no longer be found

Write me a song
It needn't rhyme
It needn't be long
Just something that
I can hum along
Write me a love song

Dark are the days
Bright are the nights
I can't stay awake
I cannot sleep tight
I lie here and wonder
How it's going to be like
When the dawn breaks

My head's in a maze
Oh, how I hate the light
I'm learning to bake
At eleven at night
I sit here and ponder
How it's going to be like
When the night wakes