I'll meet you at the statue of the boy by the stream.
You know, the one of the boy who is peeing?

Oh, that's not what I intended to say!
But you know the one and what I mean.
.
Well, that's where I'll meet you, anyway.
I will be there, then we'll both be seeing.

Beautiful things
Do not always
Remain

Shiny and new.
At times they
Become

Seasoned into
A thing special
And true.

Just like my life,
Of living & loving,
Aging with you.

Waiting for Spring, lovely, tall ladies hold their breath and eye one another.
"Do we dare to open to the season?  Catch a breath?"

The dry leaves will soon crumble in the warm sun
And crunch under our feet; just so much fodder for chic maidens.

Inhale deeply Sol's rays.  Breathe!  Open to the season
And don your Spring bonnets, full-petaled.

Come here.  Look,
The grass is fading, and soon
The snowbirds will arrive.
Unmoved, they'll watch from afar
And, O, so shall I,
- trembling,
For fear that they may fly.

With tiny feet
Stuck on dead meat
You proboscis-probe
******* juice;
And yet, you are
Beautiful.

When does your spring come,
Calendar Slave?  Only once a year?

Listen to this precious secret of life:

When true to your authentic self
Spring can come every day.

When I hear that piece I will think of you.
The fading memory will start anew.
Recessed within a heart and mind
I soon will find,
You.

Sitting on the steps
Downtown Lyric building
Near my bus stop

Artsy sculpture
Behind where I sit
Fabulous place

Exciting to watch people
Passing by in business attire
Fresh air sweeping through

My Metro life now past
Wanting to re-capture
The excitement of the time

I let myself drift back
Get the feel of nostalgia, then
Resurface into the present life

So, it would seem, yes it would seem,
My fellow, you have been caught
Between the wings.
Between the wings, my lover,
Like some flitting thing.
A buzz and a hum
Between fingers and thumb
You are such an amazing specimen.

Life is just uncertainty
Everything, a mess
The alternate thing is only death

Run your fingers through my hair
And rest
Answers are everywhere

You, a watermark
just beneath my skin;

A page of text in
my mind, which

I choose to read
over and over, again.

One night I was swimming in my bed
At least I was swimming in my head
When a great bird flapping, suddenly
Flies off the screen of my theater-eyes
Its flit was quite swift, and it was fleet
As I run after it on bright shiny streets
I realize that I am in a hospital dying
Running after the bird was me trying
To stay alive

Alt. ending:  To stay alive, kept me from dying

I tell you,

This life, it takes and takes;
Of this, we all must get a grip.

With each new birth, I tore apart,
With gaping cervical rips.

And though I fed you long ago,
No longer can I hold you to my breast;

For now, is the time that you must go
And stand upon two legs.

I tell you, go, you must nourish yourself.

What doesn't **** you doesn't **** you.
It does not necessarily make you stronger.
Does a crack in the wall make it stronger?

The bone heals the fracture.  Stronger -
The pipefitter welds the pipe.  Stronger -
Only work on "the broken" can make it stronger.

Become stronger -

I love you.
I do not like dancing around that thought.
It rattles like a pebble in my brain.
It becomes a stone in a wall of the insane.

But I love you and I am fraught.
What to choose?
The possibilities of me and you
Solidifies the brickwork of a windowless room.

I love you to my own doom.

The most exquisite symbol that I could give,
“A teardrop on the cheek of time”.  This tomb
Of my heart white walls of marble enclose.

Nothing matters.  Even if the people suffer,
Their blood will stain the Makrana stone;
Unclean, no longer pure.  My love rests

With your moldering body forever.  Only
Our youthful memories keep me until
I lie with you, again, Mumtaz.

Ballerina clouds dance overhead
elephants, rabbits, pigs, and bears
Pirouetting here and there
with an alligator nipping at their heels.
When quickly appears giant hands that come
to gently clear them all away.
And the sun suddenly shows its face
as it comes out to play.

You, magical creature
Who has power to
Draw a heart from chests
Hold it in tiny hands
Never to return it

Our town’s fire had burnt for years.  
Where all could come and share
It was the very center of our town

Massive rains, it happened one day,
And the floods put out our local fire
Sad but together all sat down in the ashes

But then single shout went out
“An ember over here glows.  It grows!”
Our community began a gentle blow

At first there was only grey smoke
Yet, then a mighty red coal glowed
As flames began to grow and grow

A cheer went up all around our town
We gathered wood from every home
Put it on the fire to help it grow and glow

Soon there was a bright and steady blaze
Each one began to dance and to sing
"As one divided, we fell, in unity we rejoice!"

The moral of the story, as they say, is
To learn to know, love and trust with no delay
Work to build your community the right way

Choose the most stable of materials
From every color, tribe, and home
For that will endure as the strongest

To rebuild your fire

“Learn to see. Realize that everything connects to everything else.”
That is a quote from Leonardo Da Vinci who saw connectedness.

All things connect to one another.
That means I connect to you, you connect to me.

The sun and the moon connect to each other,
The stars connect to the sky and all of this connects to the others.

Not only should we "see" but we must feel this connectedness
For it is what opens us to love and life.

"Life can only be seen in relief."
That is what Leonardo said;
"One must not stop at the surface."

Dive below, for no world is small
When you open your eyes wide
To take it all in, analyze the details.

You find that there are the minute
Universes upon universes to explore.
Let the wonder take your breath

Until you have no more.  Leo did.

Though we may suffer
We see not death.

Heart be cool, it is not yet.
Heart be cool, perfectly.

And heart, be calm continually.
We suffer, but not death, as yet.

A voice, as if afar, speaks
Sweetly to me, "So, be at rest."

Venom, sharp as a razor;
The *** in your hand swings
Separating body from head.

The thing wriggles a figure eight;
A caress of self with no comfort.
Life dries rust-red in the sun.

We can often be such foolish creatures
Never listening to common sense preachers;

But then we all but learn too soon
We’ve just been howling at the moon.

O, the message of love, at last, achieves full bloom;
That heart we once had feels full weight the doom.

And all along we find we've had the hidden room,
That place to learn to love from the unknown teachers.

We find ourselves to have been such a foolish creature
And finally, listen to the common sense preachers.

For we knew the tune, but only dared to hum along.
But, now, having been shown, we let it out in full-throated song.

"Handsome fellow,"
She said.  Blue-black,
Eyes of knowing, cocked
Head, he is peering
At her with certainty.
"Caw!" His answer of love.

The crow works its way sideways on the wire.
Nature lives at full tilt. It does not worry

That it may soon be used up.  It lives in the moment
In pursuit of having a fulfilled purpose.

For the busy crow the fleeting moments pass unnoticed;
Time scarcely has consequences for the satisfied;

Down he flies for crusts of hamburger buns.

There is an unrecognized key to living a life satisfied, if not Fulfilled. It is not a secret.  It is much overlooked.  It is: cycles

There is an unrecognized key to living a life satisfied, if not fulfilled.
It is not a secret.  It is much overlooked.  It is: cycles

The sun rises on our lives, the sun sets, as well.
The world obits and whirls, the seasons change

Then change back again. Cycles, life is a cycle.  Spinning
In a controlled fashion.  We can count on it.  For

It will cycle back around to the start of day, of love, of life.
That’s the thing to mentally grasp.  We rise to the cycle of the day.

We hum along never thinking, “We are spinning, turning, cycling!”
Feel the groove of that.  We will rise, we will sleep, we will be . . .

Cycles remind us that there is a rhythm.  With rhythm we make music.
With music we sing and dance our way through the cycle of life.

Wrap that, like a comforting blanket, around your life
And cycle on.

I see you're a bit damaged.
I'm a bit damaged, true.
After all we all at times fall.
Are we not human
With imperfect flesh?
Yes, at times, our lives
And our minds are a mess,
Yes, a big old ****** wreck,
Which others cannot seem
To avert their eyes away from.
Yet, they should look inward instead
Because they are damaged, too.
So, what is a human to do
But to make a tent of love
And protect all from
The damaging rains of hate.

When I was a teen you Texas two-stepped me around the floor
When the family went to Eddie's Country Ballroom.  
You insisted we learn to dance.
"Just relax.  Follow me." you'd say "1-2-3, 1-2-3, see?" And I did.
When older, you walked me down the aisle of Grace Episcopal Church.
As we slowly stepped in metered step, we moved down the aisle in a kind of a dance.
"Just lean on me." you said.  And I did.

You ask why I do not come around, anymore.  Because
    the sun won't shine with the darkness in your eyes;
And, I love the warmth and the glow of daylight.  
    I wanted more of it.

All the while you kept blocking the light from our lives.  
    Perpetually, all was darkness,
Though, you refused to turn on the light,
    step into the brightness of day, I had to.

I watch the
Velvety dusky rose
Which risings up from
The clinging horizon.
The sky desires it
More than the blue
This time of morning.
And draws it away
Into itself until
It is all gone
Into the bright
Light of a new day.

Dear Bigot,
Best check what DNA
Has to say.

Many of us have
A little wink-wink
In our background.

Besides being horrid
You might condemn
Yourself!

I wanted to see it plainly
So I typed it out in Consolas
Only then could I understand
You really were gone

It's hard to imagine a world without you in it.
The sun still rises.  The day is still filled with seconds, minutes.

Should I not have reprieve rather than be sentenced to grieve?
Why don't I have to tell myself to breathe?

The sun still rises.  I still **** breath.  And, grieve.
There is nothing left but this chiseled granite.

I wish that it were I there decomposing in it, death sublime.
Or perhaps we both could lie there, intertwined

Forever;
Together
Enshrined.

Watching a death can consume you
With each heaving breath.  Is this the last?
Where the death rattle that is said will come?
When will the peace, the angelic expression,
Spread across the pale tortured face?
I have seen it, and yet I watch and wonder,
When, when, when both our release?

A song and melody
With its words
Exquisitely heartbreaking

Rips into the chest
Picks at the core
Yet, giving caress

Steadies the vessel
Causing it to rest
With a stillness

That becomes the Devine

Her fears rise-up like a great angry bird suddenly
Flapping black wings. Flitting here, then there.
Glimpses of what had been, what was, what might be.
But these are only the shadows of clouded eyes
Dulled with age and thickened in time.
Held within a brain dulled and thickened the same.
Shadows had darkened her life before,
Throughout her almost 90 years.  Now once more
They were back like an unwanted friend,
Yet these had never really been real
Only in that they now grip her life.

Your plane through pink clouds,
At sunrise, my sinking heart.
Heart breaking, you, departing.
Your plane through pink clouds
Departed, and the sky
And I am empty.

Do I disappoint you, dearest,
When I do not call your name?

Do you sit there sad and lonely
With your face a black screen?

But, you are a true, dependable
Friend within a box waiting.

Waiting loyally in eagerness
Simply to hear me call

Your name, "Alexa."

I defiantly said,
"I don't need anyone
Or anything!"

Then took
A deep breath
And said, "I see."

There is just something about taillights
Whizzing past in the dusky path of night.
All are in such a rush as they drive fast,
And my imagination wants to follow
Wherever it is that they are going.

It is that which drives me
It is not hardheadedness
Although it has been called such
It is, rather, a stick-to-it-ness
That guides me to never give up
A dogged determined outlook
Which tells me not to stop
Because ultimately all will be okay

When you force your thoughts and opinions
On me you are in one sense abusing and ****** me
Your saying is effectively true “It’s my way or the highway.”
At least it is certainly true for tiny minded you.
You will soon be left alone living in your empty mind.

She has a head, which floats
Above her body. Large eyes
Open wide. Picasso,
He could very well have made her.

I’m so tired
Tired of falling
Falling in love
Falling apart

Falling to pieces
Falling down
Down a rabbit hole

A deep hole
Wholly deep
Diving into you

When you dive into the deepest, darkest voids;
The dark velvet space envelopes you
Like a womb that you had no longer remembered;
And you realize that the farther you go,
The more you learn and the more you come to know that
Amid the blackness, it's full of light and stars that glow brightly
Which more clearly comes into view around you.
It is this type of warmth and light that engenders growth;
Then you come to realize that in truth
You were planted firmly on the most fertile of grounds all along.

Dog gone those lawn people
Buzzing around like bees,
Swarming on mowers.

Rushing around with leaf blowers.
How they are bothering me!

Hitting piles of doggy poo which
My lovely neighbors leave behind,
Too lazy to own pets responsibly!

As if the noise was bad enough,
I have put up with the smell of that stuff!

Repeat with me:
I must go on;
I must not pause in the midst of the storm;
I must not waiver nor become immovable;
I must go out throughout to the dawn;
Until the light is bright on a brand new day
And I can see the clearest way  
I must step one foot at a time.
In this, I move forward.
Repeat with me:
This is the way my life moves forward!

You dope
To push the envelope.
I'll throw no rope.
You need to learn to cope
Or stop acting foolish.

Her little belly glows.
It pulsates with anticipation
Waiting, listening for my voice.
Eager to please should I have need.
When I am at rest she hears my breath,
And waits for me to speak so she can please.
Her little light interrupts my sleep at times
But she is there bright and early
To make sure that everything is fine.  I say,
Well, thanks to you need to go back to sleep,
You little busybody creep!