I can’t take Sam off speed dial
I’m expecting his call
Especially Sunday mornings
Warming up, stretching tall

That’s when he always calls me
Though sometimes I call him
Now twenty Sundays have passed
My chances getting slim

I can’t delete my brother
I’m still yearning for his call
He owes me one, even though
He died one Sunday last fall

If I could only carry a tune
I'd write songs to go on tour
Sentimental ones-oh how I’d croon
Just so you would love me more
My Dear, just so you would love me more
If I could just win the Lottery
There’s your Instant Retirement!
Oh, what fun to hire that limousine
That’s only my first requirement
For when I win all those riches then
I’d hire us that limousine
To take us to Cruise America
Pick up our brand-new Airstream
We would drive North to Tallahassee
Pick up supplies along the way
Stop at Sam Ash for your dream guitar
Then could you love me more, I pray?
Just so you would love me more
I’d shower you with presents galore
“Can’t buy me love”, you say, my Dear
You sang that song I’ve come to adore
So say those words I long to hear
As we drive West to see The Rockies
The majesty makes your face glow
What matters to me on this journey?
That you love me more and say so

If I always seek other’s approval
I’ll make myself a slave
Believing life’s a struggle always brings
Obstacles in my way

If I never surrender my ego
No security or peace
If I keep trying to control others
Enlightenment can’t be reached

Refusing to turn over a new leaf
I’ll never stretch to new heights
Only feeling my separateness prevents
My connection with all types

If I never face things that are difficult
I’ll never see easy times
If I always project blame on others
I’ll live to deny my crimes

If I cannot acknowledge my mistakes
I’ll never feel forgiven
If I am governed by intolerance
I’ll always be fear-driven

If I always must make the first move then
I won’t learn to wait or stay
If I always compete just to win then
I won’t feel the joy of play

If I act like I know all the answers
I won’t know questions to ask
If I pretend to be somebody else
I won’t know myself at last

If I always insist on the last word
To prove the points I defend
I’ll never be someone’s beloved or
Ever earn respect from friends

If I love clinging to my possessions
I’ll never learn how to lose
I hold fast to inflexibility
With only my way to choose

If I never laugh spontaneously
I’ll miss out on how freeing
A good belly laugh is great medicine
Re-charging my whole being

If I can’t feel life’s pain and sorrow then I
Won’t feel comforted or soothed
If I hold back feeling vulnerable
I’ll never feel deeply moved

If I don’t expect my voice to be heard
I’ll never know true expression
If I never define who I am then
Who will plot my direction?

If I never speak up and go along
Always swayed by a stronger voice
Losing a piece of myself one by one
And making no choice is a choice

I’ll be sold down the river easily
Without values life’s a waste
Avoiding all struggles I’ll never know
There’s no problem that can’t be faced

Always charging through life at breakneck speed
Living like push comes to shove
Staying a slave to accolades I will
Confuse approval with love

Off balance, I avoid helping others
Never jump in with both feet
If I never embrace this life wholly
I won’t know when times are sweet

I refuse to cultivate tenderness
I hide my feelings with lies
I’ll never learn the blessings of failure
Being so brittle, I’ll die

I know what a crash dummy feels
While pouring down rain was humming
Bracing myself with nerves of steel
Eyes wide won’t stop trouble coming

Driving cautiously in the storm
So many cars speeding on past
I’m thinking easy, slow, steady
Not fight or flight before a crash

I know how a crash dummy copes
Eyes wide open with teeth revealed
Safety first face forward bravely
Ever expecting he will yield

Disbelief that it’s barreling
Faster and faster, I lean in vain
No place to go but the shoulder
That whizzing missile blurs in the rain

I saw it coming without the squeals
Pathfinder’s barrel fully loaded
No skidding tires or screeching wheels
Slow motion shards of glass imploded

My little red car lurches forward
In a bang she begins to swerve
That SUV slammed into me
Before dropping back at the curve

I feel what a crash dummy feels
Releasing the damage inside
To let go the past and its sorrows
Straight ahead, there’s nowhere to hide

I live to cook
Saute and fry
Google a recipe
To bake a flaky pie
Good soup from scratch
Baked stuffed chicken
Tasty and Succulent
My dishes-finger-lickin'!
To keep it fresh
I"m not just *******'
You know this gift from God
Needs The Replacement Kitchen

I’m coming apart at the seams
No longer sprint like a deer
Except in occasional dreams
I struggle in my yoga class
Since getting titanium hips
The lotus and pigeon I pass
It’s so difficult to apply
Mascara to my lashes
I look in the mirror and sigh…
I can’t see without my glasses
But it’s difficult to ignore
Those itchy, mystery rashes
It’s over, now, wearing short skirts
Got to keep knobby knees hidden
While I try exercise in spurts
Joints in my ankles hips and knees
Are letting me down so fast
That climbing stairs is no breeze
I’m shrinking, less one inch this year
My hands crawling with blue veins
Spelling out, “THE END IS NEAR"

I saw my brother’s doppelgänger
On the train back from Miami
He boarded and sat down across from me
This twin of my brother Sammy

My friend clutched my arm in amazement
At my sibling’s new twin brother
I stared as if an angel had come
Couldn’t tell one from the other

His 6 foot four frame just like he stood
His look so like Erik the Red
He walked like him, too, I’d swear he was
My brother Sam raised from the dead

Dressed in tall jeans, a casual look
Just like I imagine him, too
With faded red hair, the same age and
The same friendly kind eyes of blue

For those who mourn will be comforted
I prayed hard for more time to gain
To be with my beloved brother
Then an angel walked on that train

He looked at me so tenderly
Pale eyebrows defined a gentle lift
My throat locked up as tears streamed down
Seeing Sam’s doppelgänger, God’s gift

It’s not that big a surprise
How much I adore Amsterdam
Like immigrants long ago
So welcomed here just as I am
In the historic Lloyd Hotel
To witness a wedding so swell
I’m glad I’m here in Amsterdam

Canals and bikes aplenty
Whizzing past on every street
The Keukenhof gardens amazed
VanGogh’s Museum made me weep
I’m glad I’m here in Amsterdam

We walked for miles & took the train
Our flight home I made not a peep
It must have been that Space Cake
We ate it and went right to sleep
A fond farewell to Amsterdam

I miss Vicki
Poetess sublime
Nature is her nurse
She wrote her essence every time

I don’t know why she left
Like Aretha, made me cry
Whatever drove her off
I just want to say good-bye

Her comments-wise, encouraging
With love she shared her best
You’re sorely missed, Dear Vicki
Farewell Dear Poetess

by Lisa Olstein

Stranger, mislaid love, I will
sleepwalk all night not girlish
but zombie-like, zombie-lite
through the streets in search of
your arms. Let’s meet at dawn
in the park to practice an ancient art
while people roll by in the latest
space-age gear blank as mirrors
above the procedure in the stainless
steel theaters where paper-gowned
we take ourselves to take ourselves
apart. Tap-tap-spark. So little blazes.
Cover the roofs with precision hooves.
Push back the forest like a blanket.
A bird the right color is invisible,
only movement catches the eye.
My most illustrious Lord, I know
how to remove water from moats
and how to make an infinite number
of bridges. Here we are at the palace.
Here we are in the dark, dark woods.

I take a deep breath to staunch
That constant clang and clatter
Be still and follow the hunch
Before it’s too late to matter

I need a quiet place
A shift in space, a change in stealth
My next breath can create
Some room to gaze at something else

Soon I must take a break
I can’t settle down or think straight
Wrestling with those demons
I know not the time or the date

Looking back looks so abnormal
Deadly games of Red Rover
Spawning pages from my journals
Replaying over and over

I know not steps to take
On pathways for planting the seed
Peace, her elusive face
Turns away whenever I plead

Time to build that Safe House
Only I have the key to the door
Where peace and bliss abounds
I meet each holy moment and soar

Seek a new vision there
And learn to think more about others
Let go my tormented memories
Seeing All-my Sisters and Brothers

I find that peaceful space
Just to release what I don’t need
Harmony-Beauty-Love
Replaces all my soul has freed

Filling up my Heart Space
As soft as a sweet baby’s kiss
Some name the feeling Grace
I feel a sense of peace and bliss

I Need a Titanium hip
My old one is losing its grip
That bone spur brings pain
Whenever it rains
I limp just like Chester and slip

Reserve my Titanium hip!
Sign me up don’t give me no lip
I’m sick of the pain
Driving me insane
Til treated with 4 or 5 nips

I’ve got my Titanium hip!
No longer afraid that I’ll slip
My Doctor-so serious!
But I’m quite delirious!
And green tea is all that I sip...

Appreciate a pure sunrise
See all its glory
Yet just before Amazing Dawn
Has its own story

Before you have a choice to make
Turning left or right
First pause to contemplate the spot
Right within your sight

Body language will belie the
Loud clang of false words
Look into a person’s eyes or
Miss the message heard

What makes a brilliant orchestra
Or pastoral scene
The thing defining beauty is
The spaces in between

In the pauses, in the spaces
Feel your resting hearts
Waiting for the curtain rising
Just before it parts

All the spaces in the painting
Give it life and depth
Sea shells overlooked make precious
All the ones you’ve kept

Hold that hole in that sweet donut
Just before it’s dunk
And keep an eye right on the ball
Right before it’s sunk

Anticipating Christmas morn
Or Baby’s first step
The moment he’s still holding on
Right before he leapt

Savor that bite, unopened gift
Mere ghost of a smile
Forget the end, appreciate
Running your last mile

Like an alien in a spotlight
With her magnifying glasses on
My mother as she worked, up all night
Did invisible weaving till dawn

I would watch her when I couldn’t sleep
Honing in on that hole in the suit
Intently, her concentration deep
Weaving tiny threads enlarged like jute

In other-worldly light she labored
I was afraid she’d lose her eyesight
Watching her focus never wavered
Her face all aglow in the lamplight

Invisible weaving, I inquired
How tediously she plied her craft
Worked for the money that she required
Made the warp and weft of fabric last

Reconstruction, undetectable
No more burn, or tear, or fabric blight
Weaving magic so incredible
Its wound now perfect by morning’s light

She taught me much that I’m still making
From her life that now I’m grieving
Sewing, crocheting and great baking
But never invisible weaving

The picture of her life that mattered
I now see how she toiled so finely
And that the wrinkles in the fabric
Of my own life splayed out so blindly

The vision of my eyes, bedazzled
Incandescent, her face in the beam
Unaware how her mind unraveled
As Depression stole her ev’ry dream

The threads of DNA defining
Who I’ve become I’m now believing
My mother’s hand in that designing
Of my own Invisible Weaving

In honor of my mother, Edla Sylvia Fitzpatrick, on this International Women's Day

Like an alien in a spotlight
With her magnifying glasses on
My mother as she worked, up all night
Did invisible weaving till dawn

I would watch her when I couldn’t sleep
Honing in on that hole in the suit
Intently, her concentration deep
Weaving tiny threads enlarged like jute

In other-worldly light she labored
I was afraid she’d lose her eyesight
Watching her focus never wavered
Her face all aglow in the lamplight

Invisible weaving, I inquired
How tediously she plied her craft
Worked for the money that she required
Made the warp and weft of fabric last

Reconstruction, undetectable
No more burn, or tear, or fabric blight
Weaving magic so incredible
Its wound now perfect by morning’s light

She taught me much that I'm still making
From her life that now I'm grieving
Sewing, crocheting and great baking
But never invisible weaving

The picture of her life that mattered
I now see how she toiled so finely
And that the wrinkles in the fabric
Of my own life splayed out so blindly

The vision of my eyes bedazzled
Incandescent, her face in the beam
Unaware how her mind unraveled
As depression stole her ev'ry dream

The threads of DNA defining
Who I’ve become I'm now believing
My mother’s hand in that designing
Of my own Invisible Weaving

Having my coffee on the porch
Just basking in the morning light
A peaceful time until my eyes
Were drawn above by light so bright

Thousands of previous mornings
Never once took my breath away
As I gazed up in amazement
On this illuminated day

I saw the vision of my soul
A breath, a glimpse as pure as gold
The light illuminates my mind
In God's tender love I enfold

I closed my eyes to better see
My heart was open, lips are sealed
Right to an inner higher place
Where new perspectives are revealed

In the innermost part of my being
I prayed to let go of any resistance
And I felt such peace washing over me
As I recognized love behind all existence

I see no purpose in your poem
One commenter told me
That it somehow fell short
He just had to scold me

But that’s just the way I meant to
Leave the Reader wanting more
Not to mend a broken heart
Heal the sick or feed the poor

Or split apart an atom
Cause the sun to set or rise
Maybe yes, maybe no
Win a Pulitzer Prize?

My poems tell a story
In an epic or a wisp
Stands alone all on its own
Not conforming to your list

So I see no purpose in your comment
And just need to tell you
That poem of 17 syllables?
It’s a simple Haiku

I see the vision of my soul
A breath, a glimpse as pure as gold
The light illuminates my mind
And in your tender love I enfold

I close my eyes to better see
My heart is open, lips are sealed
Right to my inner higher place
Where new perspectives are revealed

In the innermost part of my being
I pray to let go of any resistance
And I feel such peace washing over me
As I recognize love behind all existence

Language is the raw material
Transformation into art
Leaping through Alice’s looking glass
Breaking metaphors apart

Is it dark inside a poem
From whence it first sprang
Deeply repressed panic
Without judgment rang

Bringing pressured speech to light
Images of love and pain
Through clearly heightened senses
Uninhibited refrain

Where verbal acrobats spiral
Words on a poet’s page
That remind us and disturb us
In desperate outrage

With the pathos of a clown
On a winding rocky path
Reminders of death’s nearness
Terror spinning with a laugh

Pictures painted with premonitions
An atmosphere heavy in despair
Remnants of previous poets
Are blinding the reader in its glare

Quatrains moving merrily
Using images and tone
Making shapes with language
Shaping irony unknown

With tones bright and beautiful
Its matrix darkly savage
Through visual impressions
The reader’s heart is ravaged

Freedom of imagination
From whimsy to terror can bring
Surprising facetious word-play
Delivering irony’s sting

A psychological awakening
The tenderest love infused with dread
Blazing pathways joyous and dangerous
Irrevocable loss lies ahead

A telling detail without warning
Takes us to disturbing turns
The risky business of being born
Poets’ authority burns

It brings you to your senses
Through supernatural realms
Exploding realization
Its resonance overwhelms

Allusiveness to brutal honesty
It may sometimes misconstrue
In an abyss of isolation cries,
“What else can a poem do?”

I sit satisfied
Smiling smugly
Ha!  I think.
Go ahead,
Just ask me anything you want to know
Go ahead.
I defy you!
Huh?
Whaddaya mean
Is it dark
Inside of
Snowballs?

I sit satisfied
Smiling smugly
Ha!  I think.
Go ahead,
Just ask me anything you want to know
Go ahead.
I defy you!
Huh?
Whaddaya mean
Is it dark
Inside of
Snowballs?

I speak to trees and animals
Inspired by passion joy and pain
The Seasons and the Stars
Vibrate as words that fall like rain

Still striving for Deliverance
A wish for ‘Once upon a time'
Then a happy ending
Denying all war, fear and crime

Anthropomorphic expression
Uninhibited Truth unfurled
Language follows a path
The Reader lured into that world

I love the trees and animals
Their mysterious connections
Primitive and ripened
Nature’s animized perfection

Ecstasy carries a poet
The similes, metaphors start
All of nature vibrates
Brought closer to the human heart

Stop.  March!  Won’t America stand?
We’re listening.  Try pulling open
Hear source device
Pain pleasure journey inherited
Life lesson posse, turn away edge
Maybe rage offering dashed despair
Meek crashed.  Face aware.
Forced push depending
Strive.  weep.  stride.  Laugh.
Sure, seek.  pass highs.
What’s truth?  
Slice fired investigators
Suspicious, merciless House
****** time gathering law
Easy used evening clues
Taste Democracy news
POTUS does past reckoning
Keeps tweeting…beating…******…drop
Checks chanting window
Collusion breathing lies!
Enemy jaw pulse come-uppance…
Trump’s troubles, Hope coming
Sweet feel

Of course it was the wedding
Bringing us together
With Fabian and Karen
The best wedding ever!

Historic and surprising
In the old Lloyd Hotel
Pre-wedding preparations
For a boat ride so swell

Such patterns and colors
Bricks and concrete so define
The old Lloyd Hotel with
A more modern Dutch design

Our Indonesian dinner
That whirlwind tour by Tor
Through shopping streets-The Nines-while
Sharing his family lore

I stood in line for VanGogh
2 hours of rainy skies
All worth it for the time there
His story made me cry

Splendid gardens on display
Row upon row I gazed
A cacophony of TULIPS
The Keukenhof amazed!

We walked for miles & learned the trains
The week flashed by so fast
I wish that Rose and I took time
To take a yoga class

I'd like my morning coffee
Once more before we part
Finished off with Dutch detail
A great big creamy heart

Loving those calming canals
I might go on the lam
Escape from America
I think "I Amsterdam"

I used to have 4 brothers
And loved them all the same
The eldest used us siblings
For where to lay the blame

Hoping reincarnation
Proves true after a while
Dan said his fondest wish was
Return an only child

Soon I arrived, his sister
Right after Dan turned 2
He fed me peanut butter
Until my face turned blue

Dan denied that he loved me
As kids did, once or twice
But he jumped in to save me
When I fell through the ice

Surviving eighteen months then
My baby crib moved on
I moved to the bottom bunk
My next brother was born

Named for our dad’s Commander
World War II not fearing
Ted was sent to Vietnam
Where he would lose his hearing

Neighbors once thought we were twins
Blond hair and Dad’s blue eyes
Family strife split us apart
Though close in age and size

He can’t hear but does read lips
That bomb, it took its toll
Seems no single moment’s joy
PTSD took hold

Next came Bill when I was 6
AKA “Sweet William”
Boundless joy and endless love
His broad smiles worth millions

When I loved chocolate ice-cream
That was his favorite, too
He is my son’s Godfather
His wise words helped me through

I have no clue what ended
Brotherly affection
Before 2 brothers died he
Cut off real connection

Sam was born prematurely
When I was twelve years old
Spent 5 months incubating
Before we took him home

Our father’s disappointment
Sam never went to college
Didn’t want to play football
Was seeking other knowledge

Sam learned how engines functioned
By disassembling cars
Made candles in the basement
An Eagle Scout-golf star

A heart of gold he suffered
Much doggerel and strife
Alcohol’s what dogged him till
Tragically took his life

Divided family members
I’m actor and spectator
Seeking to forge connections
Reunion instigator

Some gather for funerals
A wedding now and then
I mourn, alone, Dan and Sam
Lament what might have been

Hadn’t been able to finish this piece until I took a long vacation. I still have 2 living brothers, but neither responds to my overtures. One can't hear me, and the other is not speaking.  New Englanders are known for denial and take-it- to-the-grave-grudges.  I guess I really don't want to know why.

I want to be like Rachael Ray
Not for money or fame but because
I'd deliver my perfect eggplant parmesan
To great enthusiastic applause

I'd like to slice an onion, too
Just like the smiling Rachael does
Or complete a sweet peach cobbler
To the sound of ooh's and aah's

You don't have to weep with joy often
Over last night's chocolate mousse batch
Just put your hands together, can't you?
To deliver that 5-minute clap

I know it sounds quite arrogant
Desiring such full appreciation
But that feeling keeps washing over me
Wanting accolades for my creations

Just once as I set dinner on the table
They all inhale in admiration
While they leap to their feet spontaneously
To give me my standing ovation!

I want to write a poem
Like a yogi’s meditation
Every minute of the day

Through blackness of my sadness
Red is glory close to heart while
White arises pale and cold

I tried to write a poem
All about the triumph of love
That took me 10 years to write

Despite my fierce suppression
That passion in all its hunger
Realized like turtle doves

I wrote my heartfelt poem
In a trance of deep rem sleep
Feeling the ruthlessness of truth

I must complete this poem
Awake to writing its wonder
Instead remembered this one

I wish I were not so cool
When I go to the desert
it turns into icy tundra in seconds
Less cool people stare at me with envy
I can put out fires with a quick glance
If I died, the universe will turn into
A hot desert.

Dear Eliot, I wonder why
When members post their rhymes
You gave us all those choices how
To give some feedback every time

Like it, love it, leave a comment, too
Even click on “thumbs down”
The best is when a reader is moved
To send it all around…

Or when it’s picked “The Daily”
It feels like quite a treat  
when someone shines a “Sun” that
Feels marvelously sweet!

We poets see who likes our writes
Who sends them all around
But just what is the purpose for
Those mean, faceless “thumbs down”?

I think that Jimmy Carter
A true and noble man
Should monitor the voting
Check on ballots being scanned
Watch over our elections
The suppression of our votes
Long lines, few polling places
Jimmy Carter, that’s no joke!
I pray that Jimmy Carter will
Monitor our elections
I trust he’ll keep them honest while
We’re making our selections
When there is no paper trail
And lines 5 hours long
Votings not for weak or frail
Be Jimmy Carter strong!
The man can still build houses
Even though he’s 91
Please watch those ballot boxes
Or Democracy is done!

Jordy does her yoga
Greets me smiling
Taking flight
Legs and arms akimbo
Picks the music
That she'd like
Yes she can be picky
She’s a Princess
No disguise
Keeps her posse jumping
When she flashes
Big brown eyes
Jordy, little sister
Halfway woman
Halfway child
Can be temperamental
Has a hissy
When she’s riled
She likes watching Ninjas
Leaping so high
Just like them
She has us all beguiled
Jordy Nicole
Never mild
She saw Ziggy Marley
At Sunfest
What a mob
Yet she prefers his father
The first Marley
She loves Bob

When I'm alone with my dog Buddy
My lonely nights could not be sadder
So I ride my motorcycle
Through rain & cold, it doesn't matter

Ramblin' down ole Dixie Highway
The cold feels like sunny weather
My head is soaring in the wind
And my heart's light as a feather

There are 2 times I feel happy now
In case you haven't got a clue
It's when you're comin' down to me
And when I'm comin' up to you

Just to reach you & to kiss you
Did you hear my motorcycle roar?
But my waiting keeps on lingering
While I'm knockin' on your door

I'm here knockin' on your door
Open up and let me in now
Can't you hear me loud & clear?
Don't you know I came to love you
Just to hold you, I am here

It's cold, I'm feeling weary now
Don't wanna be standin' here no more
But then she warmed up my heart
When she came and opened up that door

After I left Los Rabanos
The grapes were still not ripe
The cranes atop the churches spire
Had not yet taken flight

Soon they'll fly to Africa
I will not see them climb
A feather loose, an empty nest
How do they know it's time?

The gladiolas barely bloomed
Sweet lavender a blur
And now that scent stays on my mind
The feelings that they stir

The RioDuero calls to me
Her rock cliffs echo still
Of peace and laughter plentiful
I did not get my fill

At work I find my focus gone
To casa de verana
And what I should be doing now-
Put off until mañana

trump is lurching like a loose cannon
Denying evidence and logic
he separates language from meaning
When Bait and Switch is his chief project
Those xenophobic fires he’s fannin’
Spatters his word salad recklessly
Like a loose cannon

This conman sold some a bill of goods
With gibberish worse than Tinnitus
Propaganda by steve bannon
An alternate universe naked
Like a loose cannon

trump is lurching like a loose cannon
Denying evidence and logic

he separates language from meaning
When Bait and Switch is his chief project

Those xenophobic fires he’s fannin’
Spatters his word salad recklessly

Like a loose cannon

This conman sold some a bill of goods
With gibberish worse than Tinnitus

Propaganda by steve bannon
An alternate universe naked

Like a loose cannon

We're all seeking Paradise
But never wish to die
Heaven is a state of mind
Let Go and say Goodbye

Look into your heart and mind
Embrace all your good luck
Release all those resentments
Don't accept that you're stuck

With joyous expectation
Now new dreams will call me
Doors will open for me
No devil will ever gall me

For all the wisdom needed
To play the part we're given
Patience, persistence, and strength
Is how the soul is driven

Heaven's at your finger-tips
Transform your world right now
Don't wait for the End Times
Live in Eternity now

We're all seeking Paradise
But never wish to die
Heaven is a state of mind
Let Go and say Goodbye

Look into your heart and mind
Embrace all your good luck
Release all those resentments
Don't accept that you're stuck

With joyous expectation
Now new dreams will call me
Doors will open for me
No devil will ever gall me

Yes all the wisdom needed
To play the part we're given
Patience, persistence, and strength
Is how the soul is driven

Heaven's at your finger-tips
Transform your world right now
Don't wait for the End Times
Live in Eternity now

Relentless traffic blight
Despite that fight
No snow or ice
Here it's quite
Paradise

She knows exactly how the world works
Shares her well-read cynical voice
She wishes for miracles coming
Not believing our leader’s choice

She’s longing for Swords into Ploughshares
All words of war she cannot bear
Doesn’t trust The United Nations
Declares we haven’t got a prayer

The world’s Toolbox of Diplomacy
Lets foxes design the henhouse
She knows the top 3 richest people
Have more than HALF of everyone else

She shows how to make her life richer
Not relying on someone else
Has no sentimental view of life
Fully acquainted with herself

Challenging ANYONE’S opinion
Firing people up with the facts
She predicts trump’ll be on Mount Rushmore
His Nobel Peace Prize on his back

Long Night Full Moon


You only watch the news to find out
where the fires are burning, which way
the wind is blowing, and whether
it will rain. Forecast ahead but first:
A mother’s boy laid out
in the street for hours.
These facts don’t wash away.

I sometimes search the Internet
Looking for my father’s Rickenbacker guitar
Though I rarely heard him play it
That sliding sound, with my bedroom door ajar

More often I can see it still
In our parlor in its dedicated space
It must be strum while sitting down
Its elevated strings silent in its case

I couldn’t comprehend it then
Though looking back now it seems a little cruel
That on the day my father died
Like any other day, I went on to school

That day began as usual
My father and I-an ordinary ride
Until he swerved right off the road
While I lurched to his side and watched while he died

His heart had stopped, and even now
I try to remember a look or a trace
Wondering why his lips turned blue
And a wave of pale, deep pain was on his face

His death was never talked about
I was clueless about what to do or say
No one ever spoke to me then
When I was driven to school on that same day

I can’t remember anything
About the details of our lives before then
I catch up watching family films
He left when I was only 9, almost 10

I know we have gifts that differ
I believe according to my Father’s Grace
That the gift my father left me
I sometimes see it written on my own face

And in strains of music heard
That sliding, soulful sound in Hawaiian songs
Or when Neil’s Harvest album plays
I stop-and like a prayer I sing along

I looked for his guitar again
It’s now worth so many thousand dollars more
All I have is faded memories
Haunting strains of music coming through my door

She might have needed 50 bucks
When I asked it was the story she would tell
About my dad’s Rickenbacker
That I fiercely begged my mother not to sell

I sometimes search the Internet
Looking for my father’s Rickenbacker guitar
Though I rarely heard him play it
That sliding sound, with my bedroom door ajar

More often I can see it still
In our parlor in its dedicated space
It must be strum while sitting down
Its elevated strings silent in its case

I couldn’t comprehend it then
Though looking back now it seems a little cruel
That on the day my father died
Like any other day, I went on to school

That day began as usual
My father and I-an ordinary ride
Until he swerved right off the road
While I lurched to his side and watched while he died

His heart had stopped, and even now
I try to remember a look or a trace
Wondering why his lips turned blue
And a wave of pale, deep pain was on his face

His death was never talked about
I was clueless about what to do or say
No one ever spoke to me then
When I was driven to school on that same day

I can’t remember anything
About the details of our lives before then
I catch up watching family films
He left when I was only 9, almost 10

I know we have gifts that differ
I believe according to my Father’s Grace
That the gift my father left me
I sometimes see it written on my own face

And in strains of music heard
That sliding, soulful sound in Hawaiian songs
Or when Neil’s Harvest album plays
I stop-and like a prayer I sing along

I looked for his guitar again
It’s now worth so many thousand dollars more
All I have is faded memories
Haunting strains of music coming through my door

She might have needed 50 bucks
When I asked it was the story she would tell
About my dad’s Rickenbacker
At 10, when I begged my mother not to sell

I like it when you call me Baby
And when you're playing your guitar
I like you comin' down to kiss me
When those brown eyes say who you are

I like your voice's sweet inflection
When you speak straight from the heart
And the way you pay attention
I miss when we're apart

I love your silliness and openness
And your spontaneity
Your honest commentary
When you met my family

That Peter Pan mentality
And how you let me cut your hair
Your love of Rock 'n Roll
When you haven't got a care

I like it that you rescued Buddy
And care for him the best you can
You see that he's a lucky dog
You say that you're a lucky man

Don't think I have you idealized
Seeing only black and white
The wonder is I see you
In just the perfect light...

As for me, I feel happy
With you there's no doom or gloom
I feel that things get brighter
When you walk into the room

Lunch in Orlando
80 degrees on the deck
Egret steals salad

In silence comes God’s meaning to the heart
When I need it I find it there
To gently soothe the terror-stricken part
With tender compassionate care

No longer unseen and isolated
Trudging with troubles like boulders
I’m amazed to feel burdens abated
Deep pain subsides in my shoulders

Peace like a calm, flowing river I felt
Forgive me for the violence
I perpetrated against my own self
I will take heart in the silence

I know now’s the time to release the past
Forgiveness, love would-be talents
I must let go held resentments at last
To restore my inner balance

Carl Yung said we must climb up that mountain
With courage and strength for direction
My journey to Light flows like a fountain
As I make a sharp shift in perception

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

I've been married for 25 years
Though some have said that I blew it
Many laughs and tears, but only one child
And took 3 husbands to do it.

My cat likes poetry
She listens attentively to my recitations
I think she might write poetry
I heard her staring outside longingly
Purring mightily, grooving
Transfigured in the morning sun
Her stripes a kaleidoscope of yellows and grays
Keen green eyes on high alert
With flashing intensity through the sliding glass door
Jousting with the mockingbird swooping to peck her head on the patio
Rolling in the catnip bed in triumph
That’s the poem she composes
In the throes of poetic excitement
Inspired by wish and instinct

On my first day of retirement
Beginning a long vacation
I read my book out in the yard
Savoring each sound and sensation

Dozing and dreaming on Monday
Avoiding my work close at hand
A dove makes a call from the roof
While Buddy digs holes in the sand

The sound of cars in the distance
The drone of a drill, then a truck
Is to me, soothing and peaceful
Thinking thoughts of only good luck

The trill of the birds' serenade
As Buddy stalks lizards that hide
Uninspired to go anywhere else
I'm happiest being outside

But then, intruding like thunder
A thought forces me to back up
Those books and plates, a string of beads
My life's toys-I must go pack up

Having an M.I.
Ambulance to JFK
Cardiac cath stat!

Andre Bocelli
Our seats remained empty for
Open heart surgery

Next to CCU
Waiting in the fam'ly lounge
Wanting just good news

Here at JFK
Dr. Lancelot Lester
Mended his poor heart

He won't even know
What day it is tomorrow
Morphine works so well

You won't even know
That I'm staying close by you
While wiping your brow

Post-op time so tough
You must never say out loud
Oh, no, PVC's!

Let his sternum heal
Start on a special diet
When can we have ***?