The question rings as a rattle on my cage.
"I am writing poetry" I answered.

He mumbled, "I thought you were playing Mahjong."

I exhaled hard, "I was. I won two games. " I said  with a little aggravation.

"Hum..." he said, then all fell silent.
I did not respond.

Only the sound of my fingers typing on the keyboard continued
Until he could not stand it anymore, "There's news today. The USA is pulling out of Syria."

"Hum, that's good." I said.

He said, "I am sure the families of the soldiers that are coming home are happy."

"Yeah, they probably are." I said halfheartedly as I continued to write.

"Israel is still worried about their borders."

Sarcastically I replied, "Maybe they will build  a wall."
The sounds of tap-tap-tap on the keyboard, continuing...

He said, "Yeah, maybe Trump will help them."
I stopped typing.
We laughed and I continued to write.

It was quiet for just a moment.
Then he said, "What'cha doing now?
We both laughed out loud!!!
And I finished this writing.

Impatient I found a love worth the wait,
Knowing lost love does not mean love is lost,
Heartbreak was just a detour to my fate,
Where all of love’s mistakes were worth the cost.

I waited to find love in full despair,
That hopelessness contrasts with love so sweet,
I missed the point when I thought life unfair,
I had to be prepared for us to meet.

Your love is what I dreamt that love would be,
Looking back my deep sadness seems so small,
Perhaps you too were waiting just for me,
Finally we found true love after all.

Patience had worn thin from each rejection,
Then you came along with love’s perfection.

we are all waiting for something,
a plane to land,
a response to be sent,
a love to be requited.

waiting is the hardest part
of living in this world.

patience,
a virtue seldom valued,
is not a value i hold near.

impatience runs within me,
why not now?
i ask petulantly
as if the stars should hang in the sky
because i no longer want to wait for nightfall.

Emulsified one,
Standing under nebuli
When will it be time?

Even though you say it hurts
Even though you say you want it to end soon
Even though you say you are tired
Deep deep inside
You are sure that it will not be the same always
Don't you?
That small voice you suppress
It's dying to come out and save you
To tell you that everything will be okay
Let it come out
Give it a chance
It's just a voice
Nonsense at the moment
Uncertainty for now
But who cares as long as it's joy and hope
As long as it gives patience for you to wait
Until one day it will come true..

Blue and somber white, I ask that
you ponder in your waking dreams and solid songs to bare the fruits with these eyes
like children and horses and such.

Naked and trembling. You frighten me.
Words of a thousand suns are witness.
They cross out the years of servitude and grace.

Absolutions. They yearn
to survive until they crave mortality.

I am about to give way. To see you with fresh sight,
hear the voice of another betrayal. Thus far,
there is only One

I have never seen
I have never heard
I have never known.

Cruelty abates
itself, shuns itself.

We wait in silence and petulance,
longing for a day to last
a thousand days
and more.

There are two kinds of waiting:
Hopeful and hopeless.
Hopelessness is weary angst,
Violent eddies of despair.
Nervous pacing while staring
The mind battling the heart.
Hopefulness is jubilant,
Spontaneous leaps of joy.
Nervous tapping of your feet
Ready to meet life head on.
There are two kinds of waiting:
Hopeless and hopeful.  
But neither prevents waiting.

My heart was ice
But I met you
Before I was ready
And patiently, you
Waited for my availability
I kept hold
Of all the cold
Until I chose
To let go
And let you in
To melt what had frozen,
And you were there for all of it.