miscommunication based on fear
destroyed the fragile buds
of friendship
or more

what was once a smile
so bright and so warm
is now a look
of sadness

losing the opportunity
to show the depths
of my sincerity
physically hurts

so I pretend like all is well
like nothing happened
and save my tears
for when I'm alone

Passion and anger,
Frustration and love.
Sometimes you’re a raven,
Sometimes you’re a dove.

Although I don’t want to,
I can’t help but care.
I’ll always forgive you –
It’s a curse that I bare.

But I haven’t forgotten,
The pain that you brought,
With your indiscretions –
My trust is stretched taut.

So now you’re repentant –
You're seeking my heart.
Just cuz I forgave you,
Doesn’t mean I want part,

Of love that is foolish,
Of a love that is based,
On reckless decisions –
On those made with haste.

So please do remember,
That my heart dismisses,
Love married with drama –
I don’t need salty kisses!

No Tonka, no Barbie,
No Monopoly game.
Just a pack on my back.
The rest have the same.

We start at age three.
Continue 'til death.
I know I'll have work,
As long as I've breath.

Our families need money.
We're the poorest of poor.
All our older brothers,
Are dead from the war.

From sunup to sunrise,
I carry my pack.
I try to walk fast,
Just in case we're attacked.

I'd complain of my plight,
But who would I tell?
All of my friends
Share the same Hell.

I've heard of a place,
Where kids get to play.
I hope from deep down,
I'll see it some day.

But likely as not,
My kids just as I,
Will carry these packs
'Til the day that we die.

"Universal health care is too expensive,"
explains the fully insured bureaucrat
while his constituents fight to make ends meet

"here, have some more money,"
offers the slick, teflon-coated lobbyist,
best friend of the health-care industry

Obviously the twain have met

Words stand at the picket line
Refusing to cross
My ego tries to negotiate
But the words
Remain resolute.

Ideas orbit my brain
Potential masterpieces
I want to flesh out the ideas
But the words
Are still on strike.

Conflicts solved without a fight.
Smiles shared as we **** the light.
Wrapped in your arms throughout the night.
All sure signs that this is right.

You cross my mind, I start to smile.
With just a look you can beguile.
I love your warm, singular style.
All sure signs that it’s worthwhile.

I can joke and be a clown.
Don’t need my guard when you’re around.
You give a hug when I feel down.
All sure signs it’s love we’ve found.

enamored eyes, bulging with trust, lay me
down to sleep and keep me protected in
ten thousand layers of love

flaky biscuits and delicious, country-sausage
gravy, or the world's very best lasagna
smile warmly as I come home from work

soul-mate -- not just a quaint concept

little blinking lights, yellow and round,
fight to keep up with the incessant
whirring of the tape drive

the old unit, yesterday's model,
wearing it's rolled up power cord like a crown,
waits patiently in the senior center under the desk

Eventually, the whirring will stop, and the two will rock side by side

I truly can't imagine
   how dull life must have been
      before the art of writing
         gave advent to the pen
How did the hapless poet
   recharge his weathered soul?
      What outlet had the writer
         stuck in that bookless hole?

"I'm smarter than you,"
says the fool.

"I won't need your help."
"I already know it."
"I've done this before."
"I don't need you to show it."

"And besides,"
says the fool,
"I'm smarter than you,"

Gestures of kindess --
"I don't need that, no thank you."
Offers of friendship --
"Get away from me, will you?"

"I'm smarter than you,"
says the fool.

Only the kind
are afraid of nobody.
Only the lazy
mistake spotless and muddy.
Only the wise
realize that they're not.
and only a fool
feels free when he's caught.

"I'm smarter than you,"
says the fool.

"I don't need your help."
"I already know it."
"I haven't done this before,"
"but I don't need YOU to show it."

"I'm smarter than you,"
says the fool --
to themself.

...and then PETA showed up and wanted to know whether there were sufficient air holes for the lamb to breathe and how the separating of the lamb from its mom went and whether or not the box was organic and free of all chemicals known to cause allergic reactions among lambkind.

The prince pulled out his legally concealed pistol and shot the PETA representative.

The ACLU, not arguing with the prince's right to carry the legally concealed weapon, but objecting to his failure to alert the PETA representative before shooting him, offered to take on the case of PETA v Prince for free, as long as PETA would agree not to protest the Jack In The Box deliveries that would be a thrice daily occurrence while the ACLU readied itself for trial.

The prince, misunderstanding ACLU's motivation and fearing the eventual loss of his right to legally concealed weapons, looked a little harder and deeper at the box and, voila, miracle of miracles, began to see apocalyptic scibblings regarding the fast-approaching war of Armageddon and the importance of a "well-armed militia" in the winning of that unavoidable conflict.

Recognizing the chance to shore up the faithful -- and put to shame the rest -- the Christian Coalition adopted the prince's message and gave it more teeth.  They stoked the flames of hellfire, added more levels to the depths of hades, and notched up the sufferings to those found guilty by their Lord, the Good Shepherd.

The ACLU responded, adding the Christian Coalition to the complaint.

The battle lines were drawn.  The ACLU and PETA stood on one side and the Christian -Coalition and the NRA stood on the other.

People argued and screamed and fought and condemned.

Then, a little boy of five, wiser than his years and saddened by the preemption of his favorite cartoons in favor of live coverage of the proceedings noticed something nobody else had.  Neither side any longer had a picture of the lamb.  So he drew his own.

I didn't like the prompt.
I don't think it liked me either.
Staring at me,
laughing really,
it mocked my inability
to be inspired.

But I was inspired.
Doubly so!
Just not by it.
I was inspired by the class,
by my fellow students,
by the poems we read, and by the poems
waiting to be written.

In a way,
I was even inspired by the prompt.
But don't let it find out.

Dark brown hair, darting eyes.
Want to look, 'stead I sigh.

Passes by, looks my way.
Should I ask for a date?

If I wait, will I lose?
Was her flirt just a ruse?

Passion brews, in my heart.
Could a love affair start?

Eyes still dart, look around.
Can she hear, my heart's sound?

Going down, need to know.
If I ask, tell me no?

So I go, out the door.
Not a word, nothing more.

Same old score, chickened out.
It’s what fear’s all about.

Jagged bottles, freshly broken, line the
cobbled pathway leading to the house.
An open window and the heady smell of warm beer
implicate the under-employed and over-stimulated
inhabitants of something.
A frazzled flag, ruined by the wind and disinterest
drizzles limply in the breeze. Broken lines and
pointless stars point to broken lives and
pointless wars that spit on the lithe and measured
stiches of an avant guarde Betsy Ross.
Ancient wooden placards, blue and white and peeling,
shoot up through the hoarfrost of the unkempt yard.
Promising something, though not articulated, they
describe a geometric shape, strangely triangular,
between signs and flag and glass.
A strong confident voice, "Yes we can," wafts
through the open window, and floats above the dismal house.
Then a curse word and a shotgun blast and the
willowing smoke from a TV no longer in need of its
power switch punctuate the scene.

With mouth agape, just like a clown,
I'm drifting through a brand new town.
All captivated by the lights,
I'm glaring, staring at the sights,
that awe me with their high renown.

As though wearing a royal crown,
I'm floating through this well-known town.
Above the sky, I reach new heights,
with mouth agape.

Too high for life to pull me down,
I'm soaring through this humdrum town.
On wings that arc above the lights,
I scarce can see the dwindling sights
of people, places, things and nouns,
with mouth agape.

The stars came down to meet me, entangled in her smile
Intoxication overcame me, its power – to beguile
Another glance
another breath
another leap of faith
I’m lost and flustered, emotions clustered
think I’ll stay here awhile

I asked about her preference: Mexican, Greek, or Italian?
She replied with a timid look – a romantic medallion
“Would you like
tomorrow night
to get a bite to eat?”
She replied, “yes,” I must confess
I will not be a dallying

That night I couldn’t sleep, my thoughts were fairly jumping
My bed refused to just sit still, my heart was really pumping
I tried to read
I tried to write
but sleep avoided me
I wasn’t mad, or even sad
for loneliness I was dumping.

I walked around the following day, in a luscious haze
My nervousness accompanied me, a day filled with clichés
The moments dragged
the minutes too
I could barely wait
But finally came, the time to claim
she who has my heart ablaze.

I drove to her apartment, I handed her one rose
She blushed so luxuriously, she loved the flower I chose
We went to eat
and had a ball
The night went by so fast
Now I’m enamored, it’s like I’m hammered
love’s what she bestows.

It hasn’t even been a week, but I’m just a smitten pup
I’m her shiny, China plate, and she’s my fragile cup
We talk each day
her voice assures
I’m most surely in love
She’s so dear, it seems so clear
that I'll never give her up

Supposition, I suppose, is worse than puppy pantyhose.
Indecision, I decide, is something I sometimes deride.
Aberrations, normally, are things I follow faithfully.
Prevarications, I attest, are often more true than the rest.

crawling up a mountainside,
filled with certain dread.
knowing that a misstep,
will probably leave me dead.
that’s what writing feels like,
from inside my head.

falling from an airplane,
a pack upon my back.
in love with total weightlessness,
without a single lack.
that’s what writing feels like,
when everything’s on track.

These words I see inside my head,
And by them I am surely lead.
The truth is that I have no clue,
Just why I choose the words I do.
I feel the rhythm in my heart,
And that is where my rhyming starts.
And so a pen and pad I find,
To scribe the words inside my mind.

But though I see the words you read,
It doesn't come so easily.
For even though my lines all rhyme,
To write each one takes lots of time.
I weigh each line, each word I choose,
So that the tempo I don’t lose.
And in the end I have some thing,
That makes the paper seem to sing.

You say you really want me, but then you treat me bad.
You vow to show you love me, but all you are is mad.
You want us to continue, to give it one more go.
Oh man you almost had me; prolong this?  Yeah but No.

It’s true I’m not Prince Charming; my faults I know quite well.
But sharing life with someone, it shouldn’t feel like hell.
When two hearts come together, the two should be aglow.
So now you want commitment?  I’m sorry, yeah but no.

Do you recall our first date?  The night seemed to zoom by.
A movie and then talking, your porch under the sky.
I thought you really wanted, to cause something to grow.
But since you don’t respect me.  Continue?  Yeah but no.

To fall in love is easy.  To stay in love is hard.
Two must maintain a vigil, and always keep on guard
Or in the early hours, a tragedy may show
Since I alone am wakeful, Combat it?  Yeah but no.

I told you that I loved you.  I promised with a ring.
I said that I would write you, a song that I would sing.
But I have lost my balance, and you have left me low.
So cry your precious eyes out.  Affect me?  Yeah but no.