I received a sad phone call it was a late hot august day , a good friend had to tell me , another friend just passed away.
I knew him for so many years although we were never really that tight ,  he was a man of small statue with a mind full of ideas of might.
Wild and a crazy , and always ready to go out and play , and now all we have are memories , for now in the ground he will lay.
Oh , I hate to see anyone die , especially someone you know , but just remember people when it’s your time you’re going to go , use your time wisely each and every day , your reservations will run out , this life is limited stay.
You never know when you will see someone for the very last time , for life is so short and precious , and we never know when it’s our time.
He was climbing the rocks to heaven at the garden of the gods ,  when he lost his footing, and there he laid on the ground.
Oh, I hate to see anyone die , especially someone you know , but just remember people when it’s your time you’re  going to go , use your time wisely each and every day , your reservations will run out , this life is limited stay.
Always be kind to people in each and every way , because it may be the last time you see them , before their final day.
Everyone you meet in life will leave memories on your mind , always make them good ones , for some memories will last a long time.
Oh, I hate to see anyone die , especially someone you know , but just remember people when it’s your time you’re going to go , use your time wisely each and every day , your reservations will run out ,  this life is limited stay.
There is a lesson to be learned in everything, that comes into our life , although some sweet and some sour , you can’t beat the gift of life.
As the clouds pass by in the mornings , and the sun shines high in the sky , his spirit will always be among us, and we will never have to say good - bye.
Oh, I hate to see anyone die , especially someone you know , but just remember people when it’s your time you’re going to go , use your time wisely each and every day , your reservations will run out , this life is limited stay.  Copyright Tom Maxwell 2002
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I blend with the crowd of those resembling,
Torn, abandoned, empty and waste,
Meek and faded, walking with bows,
Forgotten the hand warmth, the others, unfaced.

The others, who’ve lost both faith and nerves,
The others, who’ve learnt a cruel lesson,
The others, walled up to the full limit,
The others, whose souls are wholly lessened.

I find meaning in the eyes of others,
Love never seems to come from within,
It comes from the eyes of the girl who despises my being,
From the lips of the guy I never seem to fulfill,

I find meaning in the flesh of others,
My own seems rotten,
Unaccommodating to my soul,
Undeserving of my dreams,

If one day I let myself relish in the flesh of others,
Will my body become worthy of her eyes, of his lips?
Will my soul find rest?
Will my dreams...

She,
voracious reader, nearly a book a day,
she loves Rushdie, Ishiguro, E. Stout,
and so many, many more, a daily add
to an ever growing list of auteurs, all
venerable and venerated, my little bits
pale, don’t even qualify to compare,
so what’s a poet to say, or feel, beside
tears in his eyes, so hereby withdraws his
awarded accolade, HGF,
His Greatest Fan

now that there is a vacancy, looking for
fufillment, now that there is a hollowed
hallow plus a clogged artery, side by side,
both within,

even
an officialized fossilized a
doctor declaration of “chronic heart failure”

who knew docs still diagnosed love sickness?

loss of love could manifest
itself so decisively physically,
and yet I blame her not, and
thank her for the inspiration,
for all the poems birthed in
her presence, and what swill
will /may follow will never be as good,
for memories inevitable yellowing,
discoloration infestation inevitable,
earn my pallor palest poverty
and like a used car, good enough
for daily trips to the office, but not
for cross country trips,

and perhaps
that means,
only smaller,  
somewhat
used up,
and  e v e n
not only,
only love poetry

open to direction
road trip to
Sweet Sorrow Land

Jesus- has got to be the foundation to get others to Heaven
Others- a lot easier when Jesus is the foundation
Yourself- to love others as yourself you have to love yourself
= JOY

I don't count, for I don't know what counts
A look, a smile, silence, to turn and walk away
What counts is for them for which it matters
Known only at the end when the whole revealed
And I, a new self, rebuilt from all that counted
Of others: their words, presence, absence, or kiss
And we become Others, as Others become Us
The perfection of unity, now, a shadow glimpsed

As I sit here in my bed,
I think about life.
The daring natures
that are thrown at us from afar.
The temptations entice us.
Like predators,
they hunt out our fatal flaws as if it's just our human frailty to give in to such nonsense.
Leaning closer to such temptations with curiosity dripping from your eyes,
you cant your head to one side.
And you become mesmerized by the demonic allurement.
These forces attract you and involuntarily haul you into their fallacious lies.
Now you've been brainwashed,
and don't know right from wrong.
These lies indoctrinate you,
and teach you their tactless ways.
There's others all around you,
but you don't seem to notice them.
When they try to help you,
you become oblivious to what's going on.
You rarely let others in,
only when the cacodemons take a break.
Others try to debunk the situation for you,
but you see nothing illogical.
Only when reality hits you,
do you become scared of what it's done.
You pretend like nothing happened,
and the vile temptations realize they still got you.
They start to reel you in again,
starting where they ended off,
pretending like nothing ever happened.
As if you never tried to escape.
But....
each time they get you back,
it becomes harder and harder to abandon them.