The invite opens
For those who are young.
Please RSVP.
Youth without a guest.
Youth without a guess.
Occasion arises.
Warm fate stands ready.
Welcome for those
Who accept.
No going back,
only forward.
Table of options,
Accept the consequences.
Warm fate serves youth.

Don't just follow.
Put a thought in the path.
Might be a block.
Might be a bridge.
Don't forget the lesson
of a child to share.
Build mudge pies.
Lay bare your turtle heart.
Choose to listen.
Speak your point softly
once you've heard.
Maybe you'll win.
Maybe you'll lose.
Be yourself
Respect your group.
Let us not forget to share.
Appreciate the gift of others.
Sometimes choose me.
Promise to heal others.

The room is spinning;
In my mind
I try to jump on top
As if I am on a Disney ride.
Feeling the sensation
Like teacups spinning.
I don't want to stand
And fall from the ride.
So I rest with eyes shut
Caught on the ride.
My own personal park.

Stop toting.
Lift with reward.
Sorry short.
Not sorry lived,
Unload the burden.
Do the spectacular.
Walk with direction.
Love with reckless abandon
Each day with open heart.
Hear the news
Not with sorrow,
But with understanding
Sorry short,
Not sorry lived.

I don’t want to practice.
I want to write-
To record the balance-
To repeat the truths-
Without a purpose.
To connect it in a fashion
Not to win, but to explore.
To love human nature
Without regard for law’s
Cruel reason.

Rich in form
Rare in color
Radiant
Moves from warm inside
Covering all with sweet blind
Amber tones embrace
Arching in the Air
Wicked thoughts die
Weakness takes the place
Deep breath
Sleeping sighs

You saw, didn't you?
We weren't alone.
Just outside.
I called the cops.
Don't give me that look.
I make perfect sense.
On the camera.
Just look.
Why did they take you
in the room?
What did they say?
Don't give me that look.
I saw it all.
Its just right here.
On top the roof.
Beside the cars.
I'll try to sleep.

Love the deep of night;
Moon's full light streaming on the earth;
Guide me in my thoughts;
Pull me in the tide.
Lift me from my sad norm
To happy freedom
Of reckless dancing delight
In Moon's glow.

All flavor in one sip.
A sip taken with a glance
over the cup into deep
lost space of nothing eyes.
Beautiful empty with no mood.
Such discomfort in blank nothing
for all but me.
All had stepped away.
My fascination with
How to pull forth the thought
which is so deeply unseen.
A twitch at the corner of lips.
The open eyes are watching
with almost something.
I raise my face and smile.
There you are.
Not so lost, not so alone.
Just withdrawn.

They packed her Ford with his belongings.
Texas to Philadelphia.
Internet love fully bloomed.
He left it all behind
to make it work.
Old enough to know better
Dumb enough to hope.
Texas to Philadelphia.
She called the shots.
He fell in line.
He left it all behind.
Now, he only calls his sons.
She pays the child support.
He left it all behind.
His ex drugs too much.
His momma cries.
The boys are going wild.
He's stuck in Philadelphia.
His heart's no longer there.

If only I knew,
What to stew.
I'd fill my ***
With a lot.
And let you sip
Until you slip
And let me be
Your only she.
I am no such witch,
I am just a itch.
A chore,
Never one to adore.
No such brew,
Nothing new.
Just  me.
Never we.

A space with no relief;
Not there yet;
Not a time to anticipate;
Nothing has the strength to move;
A grey between the floor and ground;
Where shadows hide;
No feeling comes;
How to budge to the glow;
No feeling left except low.
How to feel the life loved.
Just crawling round the grey.

Each of us fills our cell
With the honey word
Imagination or real
Working to fill the nest
Building off the life collected
Humming with trial and error
Preparing this giant nest
Sharing with each other
The work we made.
Sweet, maybe deadly if too close.
Unknown workers.
Working side by side in this creation.
Unified in purpose.
Collected using smoke and mask.
To slap on biscuits and devour.

Hold it in your heart.
Close to those you love.
Have your pride.
Let it well inside.
Makes you strong.
Belief makes the difference.
Bravery wins allies.
Daunts your enemies.
Confuses the nonbelievers.
Please hold your ground.

Miserable with snot
Eyes rolling with tears
With no emotion just water.
My nose is full as if I had
a good cry without cause.
My throat itches with abuse
of rough useless coughs.
Next week good health will
feel refreshing as I am freed
from this bitter fight with cold.
Don't stand near!
Oh, I know you wouldn't dare.
You are phobic of snot.
Me, too.
I oozes all the time.
I long for next week like a new love.

Look into my eyes.
Don't you still see me?
Don't you still know me?
I love you with the tenderness that I did when
you were little.

Look into my eyes
Don't you still know me?
I pat your arm with the same tenderness that I always have.
Don't you know me?
Please tell me who I am.

Each has potential.
Trying to find the perfect fit.
Check each pocket.
Close each pouch.
Bushing fingers upon the glass.
Lost in whim of pleasure past.
Bell rings as shop door shuts.
A dash together in fall's cold rain.
The wet surrounds as laugh together.
Open and settle inside the car.
Lean forward for quick kiss.
Engine starts with smiling glance
Acknowledging presence
of together's gift.

So cold it burnt my soul.
You so loved with no return.
Alone in love-almost.
You too loved - yourself.

Walking through a forest
Large trees with faces in the trunks
Truths carved in the wood
Sun casting through the dark green
Shadows pushing back the heat
The earth dark and rich
New life trying to push through
the decaying floor
Secrets hidden below the brown leaves
Truth in the heart can be found
Reckoning with self and dilemma
Rotting smells rise from the floor
Trees stand above the rot in graceful stance
Showing regal in their realm ever reaching
Toward the heavens with noble bearing.

To sleep late;
To walk outside
and feel the warm sun;
Splash in the cool ocean;
Not worry about others.
To exist with sunburn.
Read my book as I please.
Knowing it will flee
with giggling speed
as child running past.
This week almost more
for thought of what will be.

Cast
Onerous
Pity
Into
Neglected
Garbage

So often I repeat for emphasis
Maybe because I forgot I said it.
Can you endure the redundancy?
What bears repeating to me
May be mundane to you
It is a matter of judgment
and circumspect.
I will try to leave repeating to bears.

Just a whisper
low and sweet
Moaning,
Rising above,
Take me in and let me be.
Hide me quiet.
Let me be.
Rest me deep.
Share me not.
Just for you.
Know my name,
But let me be.
Just you and me.
I’ll not tell.
Just let me be.

Make room.
Rain or shine.
A happening to share.
No RSVP.
Just a notion.
Day into night.
Drunk with music.
Green grass under foot.
Beverage toted by pickup.
Fellowship,
Maybe romance.
Sleep it all off.
Portable party.
Ease of youth.
Angels dancing.
Demons spinning.
Life living.

At the early part of life, I left the path
I walked my own path
But I make amends
I mend my path
I walk my fate
I am satisfied with my amends

Smoke rises with a puff
which waters the eyes.
Tears run and are smoothed
with balled fists.
Charred scent blackens the air.
Grey lifts in the night to
the light of the open window
where you sit just inside.
Where you listen just inside.
Outside only quiet of crackling fire.
The light inside burns bright with no answer.
Smoke alone enters the house.

Dream in the big world.
Always trying to catch up.
Falling behind with only thoughts.
Never independent.
Not part of this.
Flights into the abandoned areas of the mind.
Not belonging but never knowing it.
Choosing a path because it exists.
Could happen to anyone.
Yet it happens to her.

Hide the thought.
Head upright.
Chin stiff.
Cheeks plump
With smile.
Eyes blink.
Hand brushes brow
With a soft tilt of face.
Right, right
I understand.
Sweep and turn.
Over.
No more.
Gentle toss.
Deep breath.
Relief.
Quiet full grin.
Release.

Waiting for the time.
Sitting in solitude.
Deciding what to do.
Never been so alone as now.
Sound the alarms.
Man the posts.
I need someone.
Could take the way out.
Asked if it should be hidden.
Nah, don't hide the exit.
Tomorrow will be a time to heal.
Do I want to last forever.
No, I want to rest alone.

Upon a knee,
With open heart,
Promise to never part;
Yet there is a part;
A silent hurt;
A shame to hide;
A thought to fear;
So it goes;
Never known;
The doubt that pinches;
An oval cut.
Choked with love;
Left unsaid.
Blind happy eyes.
Warm embrace.
Silence best
For unkind past.

Child wraps arms
around herself.
Gently poking bony parts.
Momma says "Angel Wings."
Tightly hidden by earthly self.
Waiting with expectation.
Stretching to burst
forth with purpose.
"Come out!"
Momma strokes the angel wings.
"Not soon, live your life.
The wings won't come 'til
you are done. So much life
for those wings to grow.
Keep those wings  deep inside."

Wake up with songs.
Feel rested from the night.
Time for blessings.
Not alone in my search.
Each day offers habit
executed with purpose.
Some days the purpose
is rewarded.
Granted those bright days.
A holiday, even though mundane.
Bright days are prayers answered.
Scattered in the storm of chaos.
Things go right with little or no push.

What is lost
The time together until I see you;
My favorite song until it is sung;
The most delicious dish until
it rests upon my tongue,
at which time, I close my eyes
and taste it with emphasis as never before.
My beloved who left too soon, but
when I leave all nonsense here -- that too
will be as strong as ever before.
No longer planned, just lived.
No longer known, just loved.

Wake a day with longing.
Drawing from deep within
Strength from your very core.
To make it better with  sheer
Force of will.
Wellbeing because you want
To make it be.
Chase away the unknown
For that desired.
I will make it go away.
I will find the day
Of results gained.
Wake a day with success.

To him, it was a clear blue day;
His father came in the kitchen
Wearing a brown fedora;
He walked out of the morning chill;
Long puff of cotton strand pulled across the sky;
As the teacher sat in the classroom talking to his class,
this was his memory for Thanksgiving Day.
He never said where the father had been.
Was he a visitor-- did he go for milk.
The crisp morning air meant more than
the father's purpose.
Yet in the story, you knew the English teacher
longed for his father.
He drifted from the class to that time.
Poetry in his heart wasted on a rainy day in high school.

Lift the bowl.
Drink it all in.
Dribble on the chin.
Push back up
Into your mouth.
Don't let a fulfilling drop
Leave your tongue.
Enjoy the passion
of the moment.
Slurp life's passion
with hungry delight.

Feeding the press
Sprinkling half truths
For busy fish who care not
Where the bites originate
Its on the net -
Its in the net
Must be true
Never knowing truth
Just interesting speculation
Chum on the water
From the chum who claims to know.

With all the celebration
of Eve and Day;
The festive expectation;
The next day is forgotten;
The feeling of all done;
The giant wave of over;
Wait for another Eve and Day
yet to come.
The guess of how many more.
Somehow the bust of over
is never truly calculated
in the fun of Eve and Day.
All  the thought and expense.
Yet the gift is always there.

Holly and mistletoe drape the halls.
Marriages held together with sticky frosting
like gingerbread houses awaiting the
resolutions of the first.
Families hold in place with anticipation.
First babies, first puppies, couple's first Christmas
adorn the trees as ornaments to be kept forever.
Children's hasty gifts made in kindergarten,
first grade, second grade decorate the tree
until fallen to bits unable to hang.
The short day comes with preparation
for the day of blessing and hope.
The short day comes  so quickly
and leaves so quietly,
we almost forget to feel.
But take a step away.
Before is the glory of all that can be.

He stands beside me.
His sensitive heart catches my despair
And tosses it gently from me.
His easy grip holds me firm with hope.
He knows my dreams for him.
I want him to be free of care.
I don't want him to cry for me.
He is too young to be caught
with me.
I will find peace within
So my son can fully shine
Without a care for me.

Truth rests better.
Numbed worries.
Forever blessings taking shape.
Living the best choices.
Ordered tenderness.
Releasing fear born pain.
Untold longings with no shame.
Sleeping mind gently settles.

This is such a short bit;
Time swift with wishes;
Never as intense as anticipated;
Just a drift of thought.
Must be more.
Isn't that the promise?

Catch the blue
Drift around the moon
Trip over the wrongs
Towards the rights.
Let the sun burn
Your eyes.
Dive into black holes.
No longer defined.
Just a theory.

Don't remind me,
Don't hop on my last nerve.
I wander about in the lost land
Trying to discover a new path
Looking for a bright end
With answers
Just don't try to compare
Let me be,
Let me breathe.
Do you really think it
makes us stronger?
I thought this was just
a short drop off
for the everlasting.
Just don't.

Born to it
Not what you are
Who you are
Never as good as born to it
Not merely a longing
To never know the start
To only know success
A name which was given
Because another shone
Not something to grieve
Find your own place
Start with you
Make yours born to it
And theirs born to it
*** the path
Work for it
Earn it
Pass it on
Have yours born to it
No envy burns
Waste of precious time
Make it your gift to yours

When I was a child,
Little convertibles were the car
to have;
You grew your hair long;
You walked bare foot;
Wore denim;
Big clothe bags;
Ate vegetables; and
Found yourself by
Travelling the road.

Only your terms
Smells to me
Worse than cheese.
Done my friend.
Your worth to me
Is none.
Merry Christmas!
***** of a poem.
A personal gift to me!

Listen for the call;
This can’t be all;
Don’t we do for good?
Cassandra yelled muted
Cries to those who
didn’t hear.
Hear me.

Wouldn't it be a shame...
If Mother Teresa and Hilter
are in the same place.
Not to share his darkness.
Hopefully to share her light.
Perhaps, he was a sick man
Who needed to be healed.
He was a bad man
who needed to be stopped.
Maybe if they are in the same place,
She has helped him heal.
Wouldn't it be a shame...
For bad not to know
the kindness of good
to only see the weakness.
Wouldn't it be a shame...
For goodness never to have
the opportunity to heal.

Once I knew my way;
No need for a map;
Sometimes I grew bored
Or tired with the journey;
But I did not lose my goal.
Then I began to walk
Others’ paths
From my own.
Somehow they slipped me.
Now I am lost
Without a map.
Please return me to my way
So that I may complete
My trip.