Swoosh, wings glide
across my quiet spot
water babbles near
I imagine
wise owls
limp along willow’s gray limbs
bask among first streaks of
sunlight,
collect my vibes
gather my pains
my joys
together for me
send them
to me revamped,
wrapped with hope

If I were to live my life

on sheets of acid free paper

I would bounce

tap, tap, tap

and each line would say

in fragmented metaphor

you are adored.

I would pray and meditate

in rhythms that dance

sensual sways to entice

you to take me to bed

and flip me slow

to look back or peek

ahead to satisfy

curiosity. You would bend

my corners to remember

open mouth kisses.

Our play would sound like

cries and laughter

from a ship of fools.

Cover me with blankets

warm from lust

lingering

and find me in the morning

with the same stare

black on white

calling, devour me

finish me,

turn me

finish me.

I found your face
On Facebook
Hard to believe
I was ever there
The landscape
Is fuzzy
Through the fog
Your profile is
So faded, there are
new wrinkles
Around your mouth
Under your eyes
Wisdom lines
Gathered during our
togetherness

Your eyes still seer with
Every look, yet that look
Seeks not to find my soul
Whatever you saw
One look was enough
What you saw
was too mild, or wild
Or too jagged

Hidden in this box of memories
Are pieces of you
Musty reminders
some invigorating
some good
Mostly gone

There's red on Nandina,
berries blazing among
morning's mist

Years ago you were
a sprig, shiny green
hiding below the white spruce

Once,  nearly
pulled along with other
less worthy underbrush

Like the car that braked on
time, like the strike of lightening
that missed the cabin

Survival can show
bright, radiant
veil of flaws

Gone, times of trial
evasions of destruction
hidden behind the glare

Like a newborn
I am stimulated
By whatever is near

Discombobulated
Things become unfathomable
I’m unable to grasp
My surroundings

What is near and
What is far?

Distractions flow
Like tattered streamers
Waving from a
Parade float heading
To the junkyard

With blurs all around
Life becomes like
Circular bands of light
Emanating from streetlights
Along a foggy riverside highway

Whenever lucidness invades
Life seems simple,
And I realize
it is simple

All that is required
Is to traverse
Layer upon layer
Of  events and missions
Difficult to accomplish

Nomadic tribes
Surviving off
Sacred lands

Settlements, touching
Each other daily
Communities

Houses and highways
Fields and byways
Interaction

Learning about one another
Good vibes, bad vibes, no vibes
Loving, ignoring, hating

Cities, nations,
Ethnic tribes
Why?

Why not love
Why not learn to live
Why not learn to live together

Learn empathy, compassion
Learn acceptance
Study self, accept
Study others, love them

Silent, vigilant
Small fish glide through the water
Aware others prey

As pen rubs against paper
What is the purpose
To illustrate, with words
All that is within

Emotions imprisoned
Have feasted on my flesh
Now released to you as
Impressions on a page

Let me send them
To you, to others

Let us see if anyone
Has the compassion
To take them in
To live with them
As I have
Embattled, alone
At war with these
Unfulfilled passions

advertisement beckoned
free screening
trouser thuds upon hardwood
metal belt buckle clinks
gloved finger
probes to find
a nodular protrusion
resting sac bound
begotten, benign
now watch, wait

shall it birth
some high grade
tumor
with a passionate
desire to consume
the whole of you

vigilant
on guard
living
on edge
for inevitable
struggle
around each
new scrutiny
of numbers
presented in decimals
detectors of death
prowling
seeking to find
an oasis
to plant
to grow

She sweltered in the heat
she called love
to find out the brightness
was empty warmth
hot and unfulfilling

Sweat free love
like the North Star
goes unnoticed unless
one looks toward the sky
in the right way

Once one finds it
follow what path
is drawn for you
Trek on to
sweat free love

Wear shows along each seam.

Stitches obtained through toil

and sewn with needles of obligation

well-intended for those in need.

How could her nimble fingers

stay still and silent

in the face of their distress? 

Toll-taking efforts
cast with love

nonetheless burden her shoulders

and incite pain from long hours

spent to ease the lives

of those she loves. 

Woven too is her hard-earned

impermeable shield-
her hard-learned revelation
that she can dwell free

within her mantle.

Walking on a river’s bank
Looking inward
I pause with fear

Turning over rocks
May not
Soothe my heart

There may be mysteries and
Fears waiting
Amid joyous realizations
Waiting in the warmth
Of the ground

Sensing what is about me
Intaking all that is
Allowed to transform
Like I’m pumping
an accordion’s bellows

Breathing in and out while
Each of my senses
Alerts me to what
Surrounds me

I want to feel those things
That are pieces of me  
But do not define me

Sullen is seldom
Used to describe the day

Today stillness sets heavy
Amid morning’s dew

Shadows cast by
Morning’s sun seem
Uncommonly gloomy

How long will
Debate fill my brain?

Is the day glum
Or is there a surly
Infection upon my soul?

Tears linger on eyelids

without the energy

to stream down her cheek.

A dry cry is all she can muster.



A deep sigh

ripples folds in her blouse.

An unused brush filled with

dandruff flakes and uprooted hair

rests on the end-table next to her.



Calls unanswered, or worse,

echoes of beep, beep, beep.

She dials to talk to someone

about everything and nothing.



A televangelist flings his robed arms toward heaven.

and shouts from the small screen that

forgiveness is the answer.

If only she knew who to forgive.



Layers of emotion, distorted

like radio static on a stormy night

dance with images of guilt

and thoughts of dismay.



A dry cry is all she can muster.

There was never the thought
"I should be like them."
Uniqueness was desired
and a distinct path
until a fork in an unworn trail
became a call to another direction.

Unheeded were voices shouting of
things, material goods,
destine to rot behind you
as you ***** through the valleys.

Tromp on a course to mountains
few shall view.

Let me look really intending to see

How soft and graceful your smile can be

Let me gather every furrow’s wrinkle and dip

Each purposeful twist upon your lip

Sensing every fear, anger and envy


Let me escape judgments of thee

And keep all distractions away from me

While I am collecting all of your script

Let me look, really intending to see


Summon each emotion be it sad or happy

Amass all your thoughts, goals and worry

Reflect, rephrase, without a slip

All pain, plight, dilemma, and witty quip

And in the end realize the need to let you be

Let me look, really intending to see

An exercise in line breaks.  See below

Give me notice (Version One)

Give me notice
For life is short
I might have more to do
Than rest on your doorstep
Hoping you will open the latch
Greet me with a smile
Suggest we spend the day
Viewing the community pond
Feeding the ducks
Cementing our bond

Give me notice
So I will not
Fall in love alone

Give Me Notice (Version Two)

GIVE ME NOTICE

Give me notice
Life
can be short

I might have
more to do

Than rest
on your doorstep

Hoping
you will
open the latch

Greet me
with a smile

Suggest we
spend the day

By the village pond

Feeding
the ducks

Cementing
our bond

Give me
notice

So I
will not
fall in love
alone

Old Age

What are you for?

Do life at a snail’s pace

Notice the drone of slow breathing

Wither

Among the many things
I have learned to do
In this life
Is to “nag” myself

I nag myself
To take a walk
Because it is good for me

Exercise you know
Is good for me

I nag myself
To avoid wasting time
And I nag myself to
Take some time for myself

I nag myself about the things
I did not do
Like buy a sweet sports car
Like see that popular foreign movie
Like read the writings of the Dalai Lama
Like love others more
Like love myself more

I nag myself
To stop nagging myself

One side of her face flush
red, like she has been slapped
hard, broadsided

Since the report
her searches on Google
garner extensive lists

of indecipherable medical terms
inciting fear, fuzzy thinking
as despair shrouds her essence

Odd standing alone
Before becoming
One of them

Their gathering looks
Warm from the outside
Will I become singed
When leaning into the
Friction they generate
Trying to hide
From each other

Being with them feels
Like I might
Shed some armor
And give up
That loneliness
Of staying outside looking in

Each one is hard to hate
Closeup,
How long must I wait
To be noticed
How shall I  
safeguard myself
Without degrading another
Lean in, stay curious

She was known for finding

shiny objects, pennies,

dimes and nickels on the street

in front of bodegas and filling stations.

He liked to look

upward and find priceless views

among trees and in the clouds.

They shared life well together.

There is a mood
That seems missing
In the public square

Morning lyrics ring
With truculent sounds
Unescorted
By harmonious echos

Discerning pundits
Wonder aloud
Why divisiveness
Holds sway

Where oh where
Has civility gone

Lost in a forest
Of greed
Submerged in
A sea of avarice

Political grenades
Are thrown from afar

From another direction
Come claims
That similar bombs
Are cast
Toward them

Will the center hold

We are living
On a political tilt-a-whirl
Exposed to unbelievable
Tosses and turns
Intended to throw us
To one side or the other

We are living
As though plagued
With a political psychosis
As though beset
With a political schizophrenia

Will the wheel slow
Will the center hold
Will our democracy continue
Or will the center fold

Is it harder to let go of
Bad habits and addictions
Or, harder to climb over
That wall where
Feelings hide away

There is so much one can do
With feelings, stuffing them
into some bulging mental drawer
Is generally counterproductive
And learning to befriend them
Is no easy task albeit
Extremely worthwhile

Each engendered feeling
Seems as tough to hide as
A newborn puppy
In a college dormitory

Peaking over the wall
At secreted feelings
Displays piles of anger, fear, envy,
While more pleasant feelings like joy  
Fight to garner attention

Pleasant or unpleasant
Gently pet each emotion
Befriend it and it will
Give you strength
And insight into
Weathering a crisis,
Healing a relationship
Or finding your path in life

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/julie-r-enszer/are-too-many-people-writib5560772.html

<p>http://www.huffingtonpost.com/julie-r-enszer/are-too-many-people-­writib5560772.html</p>

Question.  How do you make a link "hot" on this site.

Read this link and send me a reply if you like.

Years crumble
under today's
hot emotion
rage, origin unknown
new mask
presented
as defense or offense
no one remembers
slapped on the table
larger than years together
ignited with minute fuse
enough to dissolve love
enough to send him off
enough to leave her
basking in righteous
ideology and anger
loves crumble
spirit driven
like it was born
love birthed
out of thin air
crumbles
into thin air
years gone
in the flick
of time

Without the label of a teacher
Nonetheless things are pointed out
With care and diligence

Comments meticulously exacting
As though there is a sixth sense
About what is detailed

More than busy, attention is thorough
Rigor seeps from every statement
Oozing inside the listeners skull

How much perseverance can
Be understood while feeling
Crushed beneath a microscope’s slide

Old age *

Growing stillness

Know one day at a time

Pound the piano key’s of life

Softly

Tornados excite, attract
become a vortex for life
A swirl of busy days
sleepless nights
and nagging headaches --
voices from the head
spread the guilt --
plenty to go around

Our grandparents strew the seeds
our parents cultivate the crop
feeding us the fruit
We taste and devour, seldom does
ripe yield rot on the vine

Cherish moments when energy
pumps from wells
special drinks to ****** us
after our passions, our goals
Cherish moments when
we forge ahead
free from remorse

Few recall when the earth was scraped back
Over four score ago
To show the extensive gravel waiting to be abused

Horse pulled wagons consumed bites of earth,
One shovel-full at a time
To spit and ***** their contents
So no mud holes will grow  
Along trails black with mid-west loam

These roads carried us to and from places
To get what we did not need
For we knew how to be sustainable
Long before it became a popular movement
Long before progress discovered the quantity
Beneath the outer bones of the field across the road

rays creep through
dust covered blinds
amid sounds from below
trip-trapping of heels across
kitchen linoleum
by legs, hearts and minds
unaware that tears
did not dry on my pillow
heedless that covers
hide fears that
the luminous hands
on the dial
will not stop  
warning me that
a voice will call
ringing my name aloud
expecting this body to carry a smile
to morning coffee and darkened toast
for another day this smile will
conceal a bleeding heart
a heart at a loss --  naive
unable to cry the tears
to seek compassion

Her eyes never allowed boredom
upon her heart.
Each light, every shadow
held a secret treasure,
a passionate perspective
waiting to be unlocked and displayed.
When she shared her vision
my first glance
gathered in so splendid
a moment
I paused in awe.

At her wit’s end
there is no destination
other than the road
leading back
to her beginning

Stepping into
her maddening pace
she feels wrapped
with thick, quicksand soup
covering her shoulders

She’s sinking deep,
drifting into severance,
life’s most resounding pain
cut off down here
drenched in warm liquid
molasses —  
her newest home

Strong the desire to be unique  
To think in ways against the grain  
New, different is what to seek
Strong the desire to be unique
Courage to turn the other cheek
Be distinctive and never plain

Strong the desire to be unique  
To think in ways against the grain
Firm and willing to face critique  
Strong the desire to be unique  
At no time hesitant to speak
Only fly an orbital plane

Strong the desire to be unique  
To think in ways against the grain

* (Triolet Sonnet)

Bread is gray, molding
No toast and jam this morning
Food for chickadee

I'm older than FM radio,
I grew up when it was normal
to hate your enemies.

“****” and “Nip” were taught
as appropriate
and wars raged
on air, land, and sea.

Food stamps rested with coins
before situational ethics
made life grayer than gray.

Might did not make right,
Right made right!

I don’t know if “then” was better.
I know it was different
and I was at play.

Judgment had an extra “e.”
It was a different day and
no one knew who I was.

Hosta’s blossoms fade
Mexican Petunia spread
Cleome endures

What do you do all day

said the spider to the fly

Fly one said, I play

Fly two said, "Mostly I fly"

What do you do all day

said the lady to the guy

Guy one said "I pray?

Guy two said, "I while the day away"

Within
stirs a persistent bane

birthed
while on her Mother’s knee

Now her bones
grate against the chair
amid her rhythmic rocking
that breaks the dim silence


Images reverberate

on the back walls
of her mind

Disquietude prompts alarm

as her obsessions claw
to unearth graves

of fears

she pretends are invalid

Her desire to flee

from reminders of falsehoods

and fake passions

nags her endlessly

like unforgivable sins

haunt a cloistered sister

Neither pleas, nor prayers
quell her ruminations.

Some mornings
smiles seem wider
your lover's hands
seems softer and hold you longer

Some afternoons are sublime,
beyond scripting
with skies
of unending blue

Some nights  
clocks tick louder
move slower
like life will go on and on

Some moments
are charged with electricity,
love flows down the circuits.
one becomes weak in the knees

Sometimes you get
close to others
and know enough
to sit and watch love grow

She feels no confusion
with her lips against his eye.
Eyes blue as a
deep mountain lake.
She senses comfort
resting across her
chest, like the first time
her cheek touched his
bicep when they walked
enmeshed.
Now feels so warm,
soft on her mind
for fear has
fallen to the trail.
Renewal of trust
reborn fills her heart.

Although the landscape is level
clouds begin to bellow
in the distance

Mere wisps at first
gradually more pronounce
gray, then coal-black

Interrupted with flashes
strikes, bold and brilliant
disappearing, reappearing
each with a thunderous entry
and silently sleeking away

Where would it display
its fury and
what would be
left behind

Was it birthed of one’s own volition
Was it intended or uncontrolled
Nevertheless, left behind
is a blistered path
waiting to be healed
to spring forth
albeit slowly as a
recovering forest
after a wildfire

After forty years of marriage
he still pondered whether
she liked
his arm around
her stomach
as she awakened
in the morning

Seldom do I hear your three syllables
Ringing along the airwaves
Seldom does anyone fighting
After the war to end all wars
Consider you or think about
A cessation of arms

We even gave you a different name
Armistice, how did you become
So out of favor?

Let the world pause once again
On the eleventh hour
Of the eleventh day
Of the eleventh month
So we may sing, dance and discover
The joys of your three syllables
Ringing along the broadcast’s airwaves

The sheets are cool
Upon crawling inside
Unlike your continual warmth

A lullaby soothes me
Welcoming my dreamworld
Perhaps infancy is approaching

Over forty years
Beside legs willing
To entangle

Whoever thought our nights
Would become my
Emotional sustenance

He seeks reflections
In shadows on walls
expressions induced in others
sounds of praise
to clarify
his current illusion of
who he is

Are there mirrors
Clear enough
To find
A vision that
might become different
might be clearer

God is comfortable with diversity
God sees straight
As well as crooked
Black as well as blue

God recognizes
And appreciates each of us
Who walk on earth

Think of another world
Where judging others
Rules the day

What does it look like,
Look around you
It looks like today’s world

Might perceptions change
Where people see each others
With total wholeness
Respecting others
While dropping away
The compulsion
To categorize

Might perceptions change
Might people view others
With wide-eyes
Accepting crooked and straight
Black as well as blue
And become comfortable with diversity

I seldom learn about life
When walking fast along a path,
Exercise becomes the goal
Instead of understanding
Who I am, what the world is about
And why I am here

I seldom learn about myself
By reading the morning paper
instead of hearing the good morning song
Of the wren visiting
Among the feeders

I seldom learn about you
By thinking what I will tell you
Instead of hearing deeply
What you are saying and
What you are feeling while you say it

I seldom become aware
Until I feel my breath
Cascading in and out
Filling my belly and
Leaving my chest

Perhaps life is simple
When we experience it
Moment by moment
Instead of trying
To capture it
And make it ours