With the first breath,
         a Cry!
     With the last breath,
            a Sigh.
         With all in between,
                  a Why?

I sleep the nights away, for in my Dreams you still appear.
I weep the days away, for in my Life you're no longer here.

It seems lately, I push the pause button all the time,
Realizing it's the rewind, I really need to find.

Those who poke the Bear,
    do they realize what, they do there.
In their cruelty, do they even care,
    of the mounting danger, and beware.
Who will get the blame, if claws bare,
    And what responsibility does the watcher share.

In writing my poems, it's always my quest,
to take the time, to make it rhyme, but I'm in distress.
I wanted to convey, how much better I rest,
Since the purchase of a great mattress.
My problem you see after plenty of test, I bought a "Purple,"
and "Dang Me" the only thing I found to rhyme was, "Maple Surple."
One of the the worlds favorite pigments, after centuries of time,
has not a single word to which in can rhyme.
A color once held in history as the royal shade,
even now leaves this poet, his poem unmade.
A purple fruit, from which wine we could make,
And someone chose, to call it a "grape."
I say it's high time to correct, this to long slight,
And save the word "Purple" from it's unjust blight
How about you Auto Makers, with your Durango,Sienna, and Tesla.
Come up with a sporty "Verpule," if you wanna Impreza.
Hey, Disney you once rhymed, Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,
would doing "Purple" be so atrocious.
Big Pharma, with your colorful, zides, mycins, and statins,
maybe you can use an "urple" in your next covid patents.
You TikTok influencers I'm calling on you,
#Purplechallenge, together, let's see what we can do.
Well, I was really pumped, but now, I just sit here sad.
The Purple Company, sent a gift, an "ORANGE" mattress pad.
So now I pull out my ceremonial sword of "Silver,"
and commit this poem to: "Hari Kilver."

Oh, the decisions of the heart.
       To live without your voice,
                 or let it tear me apart.

Pen is moving, anxious to start.
   Will it translate what's in the heart?
Ink is now, beginning it's flow.
   Staining the paper, with what comes from the soul.
Lines change into letters, forming the words.
   Will they be the ones, that want to be heard?
Sentences follows sentence, after a time,
    are they conveying, what was held in the mind?
With the final period, laying down the pen.
    Till the need arises, to begin, again.

Take the language of humanity,
    Choose the words that Sing, to Thee.
Arrange with the precision of universal time.
   Write them down in perfect composition, and rhyme.
Leave us mortals, one and all,
    Envious, and filled with awe.
                 Speak to me,
                         Speak to me
                                    In poetry.

Another day
      has slipped away,
and in that time,
      the choice was mine.
To make the world, more bright.
      doing what, I know is right.
Did I cause, someone to smile,
      did I go that extra mile.
Was I quick to lend a hand,
       was I forgiving of my fellow man.
If I failed yesterday,
       may I succeed, if I get "another day."

Leaving the forest in an enlightened mood,

A hemlock root did intrude.

Sending me crashing upon my knee.

And the crow flew away mocking me.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE THIS YEAR.

I WANT TO STROLL DOWN MAIN STREET, EATING A CHOCOLATE EAR.

I WANT TO RIDE ON DUMBO, CLIMB IN ROBINSON'S TREE.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE TAKE ME.

IF I MUST SPEND MY HOLIDAY IN THE MOUNTAINS, PLEASE MAKE IT SPACE OR SPLASH.

I'LL HOLD MY ARMS ABOVE MY HEAD, AND SMILE FOR THE CAMERAS FLASH.

I'LL SEARCH FOR HIDDEN MICKEY'S WHILE I STAND IN LINE.

OH' WHEN IS THE THREE O'CLOCK PARADE, I MUST BE THERE ON TIME.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE THIS YEAR.

I WANT TO STROLL DOWN MAIN STREET EATING A CHOCOLATE EAR.

I WANT TO RIDE IN A TEACUP, DID THOSE PIRATE'S GET THAT KEY?

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE TAKE ME!

IF I GO ON A CRUISE, IN THE FRIENDLY JUNGLE, LET IT BE,

AND LATER HAVE A PALE GREEN GHOST, SITTING NEXT TO ME.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS WITH THE PRESIDENTS IN THEIR HALL,

AND MY FAVORITE FRIENDS, MICKEY, GOOFY, DONALD, AND THEM ALL.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE THIS YEAR.

I WANT TO STROLL DOWN MAIN STREET EATING A CHOCOLATE EAR.

I WANT TO RIDE A SPORTS CAR, LISTEN TO A STORM IN THE OLD TIKI.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE THIS YEAR, WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE PLEASE TAKE ME!!

IF NO ONE WILL TAKE ME, I'LL HIDE IN SANTA'S SLEIGH.

HE'S ALWAYS IN THE CHRISTMAS PARADE, SO HE MUST BE ON HIS WAY.

I KNOW I WILL GET THERE, IF I HAVE TO RUN, WALK, OR CRAWL.

I WILL PROVE TO EVERYONE, IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE THIS YEAR.

I WANT TO STROLL DOWN MAIN STREET EATING A CHOCOLATE EAR.

OH' PLEASE MOM AND DAD, WHAT'S GRAMMA'S AND GRAMPA'S NUMBER, MAYBE UNCLE DONNIE'S, OR AUNT KATHY'S.

I WANT TO SPEND CHRISTMAS AT MICKEY'S HOUSE WON'T SOMEONE PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, TAKE ME!!!

Oh, to think that it would happen on Christmas Day.  

1. When she opened the ring box, what would she say?

2. I'd be pulling guard duty in a land, far away.

3. The locks have been changed, I have nowhere to stay.

4. I'd actually be riding, in a one horse open sleigh.

5. The snow made a Christmas card out of the bay.

As I begin my poem, holding my pen,
I realize when I finish. I'll be older than I've ever been.

Is this really the best way to spend my time.
Trying to connect to another, with my rhyme.

Perhaps the worst thing that I really do,
is stealing the finite time, that belongs to you.

Oh, the  size of my inflated ego.
To do this insult, to someone, I don't even know.

For this I hope you'll forgive my sin.
For now, you're older than you've ever been.

Though I'm gone, I couldn't stay.
You can bring me back any day,
Meet me in your mind, and
we can play.

One young woman, One young man.
She comes down towards him, on her fathers hand.

Two smiles, Two hearts, Two lives to blend.
So happy, So sure, So ready to begin.

He stands tall, The hopeful Young Knight.
She dazzles all, The Princess in White.

Priest in cassock, arms in the air,
Welcomes everyone, to the joyous affair.

A candle is lit, vows are read,
Everyone straining to hear what is said.

Picking hands, they exchange gold rings,
As the ***** plays, and the singer sings.

Together they kneel as prayers are said,
The procession of faithful, for wine and bread.

Then the Priest ask, "For blessings through life"
For this newest of Husbands,and his young Wife.

All the planning, and bustle leading to this,
So quickly over, Sealed with a kiss.

Then they walk to their future, hand held in hand,
One young Woman, One young Man.

Round and round our life goes,
          And where it stops,
                 Mankind's Curse,
                      Everyone knows.

The feel of sand beneath the toes.
The smell of sea breeze fills the nose.
The sigh of foaming surf soothes the ears.
The heady taste of a few cold beers.
Where the ocean meets the sky,
Oh so easy on the eye.
Leaving everyday troubles behind.
In a paradise state of mind.

TO THE COSMIC SEEKERS, AND PIOUS WITH NO DOUBT,
MAYBE THE ANSWER, OUR BRAIN NOT DESIGNED TO FIGURE IT OUT.
COLLECTIVELY WHAT OUR BRAINS HAVE ACCOMPLISHED NO LESS THAN MYTHIC.
WHAT THEY CAN DREAM, MAY DWELL ONLY IN THE REALM OF THE MYSTIC.

AN AWKWARD FIRST KISS, UNDER THE PORCH LIGHT,
THE COMEBACK KISS, REMEMBERED ALL NIGHT.

HERE'S TO THE CLEVER SHEEP HERDERS OF THE ISLE OF ERIN,
WITH MANY A SHEEP, BUT FOR FENCING BARREN.
THEY PAINT THE BREAST OF THEIR RAMS IN COLORFUL HUES,
THEN IN A FEW DAYS, CHECK THE RUMPS OF THE EWES.
TO SEE WITH WHOM, THE LAMBS THEY'LL BE A SHAR'IN.

HERE I SET A LITTLE PERTURBED,
MY POEM FINISHED, EXCEPT FOR
THE FINAL WORD.
SO I LOOK INWARD, SEARCHING AROUND,
KICKING UP ADJECTIVES, ADVERBS, AND THE OCCASIONAL NOUN.
THERE IT IS, IT LOOKS JUST RIGHT,
SO I GRAB IT, AND TO MY PAPER I WRITE.
YES I THINK, I'VE FOUND IT THIS TIME,
BUT NO MATTER HOW I TRY, IT JUST DOESN'T RHYME.
ALARMED, I'M GETTING NEAR THE BOTTOM OF MY LIST.
COULD IT BE THE FINAL WORD, JUST DOESN'T EXIST?
FEELING LOST FOR THE WORD,BEGINNING TO DESPAIR.
THEN OUT OF NOWHERE, IT'S JUST THERE!
FINALLY OVER, WRITTEN AND PENNED.
AFTER FINDING THAT FINAL WORD THE "END".

EVERY DAY WE TREAD TOWARD OUR MORTAL ENDING,
WILL WE SIMPLY BE GONE, OR STARTING OUR NEW BEGINNING.
IS THERE A CHEQUE TO BE DETERMINED SAINT OR SINNER,
OR THE NEXT COURSE, IN A LIFE EXTENDING DINNER.
WILL WE KNOW THE HEAT OF HELL, OR THAT GARDEN OF ADAM'S.
OR SIMPLY REJOIN THE UNIVERSE AS BILLIONS OF ATOMS.

Unfortunately "Cs" look like an "A",
after the "Fs" have their say.

SO MANY HAVE COME BEFORE MY TIME,
           TO THIS KNOWLEDGE, I MUST RESIGN,
                      AN ORIGINAL THOUGHT, WILL NEVER BE MINE.

I WISH I COULD WRITE A POEM, SO PROFOUND SO CLEVER,

THAT KNOWING SAGES, WOULD QUOTE IT FOR AGES,

AND MY NAME WOULD LIVE ON FOREVER.

DO YOU REMEMBER THE FEEL:

THE PULL OF THE FISH AGAINST THE REEL.

GETTING THE RIGHT CARD ON THE LAST NIGHTS DEAL.

THE CLANKING ROLLERCOASTER AS IT CREST THE HILL.

WHEN YOU AWAKE AND REALIZE THE NIGHTMARE NOT REAL.

YOU STEP OFF THE CURB AND HEAR TIRES SQUEAL.

YOU FIRST HEARD OF CHRIST SUFFERING UPON THE HILL.

THE CRUMPLING OF PAPER FOR LACK OF SKILL.

THE ETERNAL MIST WHISPERS TO OUR MIND HOW IT WILL BE,

THE RAGING STORM FILLS OUR MIND WITH THAT WE WANT TO SEE.

US'INS KNOW IT,
IF IT DON'T RHYME,
YOU AIN'T NO POET

BE YOU,
BE TRUE.

SOMETIMES THE ONLY DIFFERENCE BETWEEN
ACCEPTANCE AND HATE,
IS HOW FAR WE LOOK BEYOND
THE OTHERS FRONT GATE.

Sometimes from the pen the words must flow,
   and I must simply let them go.
Hoping only that they shine,
   more than the blank paper they left behind.