Not I am hungry
But I hunger
Terms chosen with care
And arranged with the same eye
Think you not of my intelligence
Instead of that think the habitual thoughts
Of the small mind who wants to shine
I don’t glow, you can’t know
Of days when I was young
And the angry songs that were sung
To hell with that

Reach further, grow deeper
I am closer to an old man
And the me that was young
Is a stranger, and stranger still  
Was angry, and unkind, and loving
And a wanderer who was lost
Memoirs begin here
With the story to tell
Mining memories for memoirs
And I don’t care if it’s foolish
I risk my own creation
For the hellfire

ADD Your own picture

I know that’s not what they meant
But it’s true beyond their thinking
Advertisements wanting my attention
Too much, too many, never too little
ADD my picture, but what did I see?
Flashes color but I am blind
How can you explain color to me?
Who cannot see the green you love?

Add your own picture, says the ad
I connected them differently
And that is no error
ADD nothing, so I see
But only I see what is in front of me
Excuse reason difference
Who can tell? But please
I must ask you
Add your own picture

Infinite raindrops
Infinite dusty windshields
Will this ever produce
A forged Seurat?
No one asks
Just monkeys
Typewriters
Shakespeare

Rain not in dust
But pollen from this months trees
Can’t see through it
Can’t see under it
Dotted with rain
Borrowed from an oasis
Now the wind can’t blow it free

I have a button
And the pointless pointillism
Vanished, unrecorded, unlamented
Modernism removes the annoyances
But leaves remnants
Where I can notice, but
Not where I can see

What does it matter?
I admit, I’m uncertain
But I noticed
I recorded
And maybe now, you
Will think of dust, rain
And Shakespeare

I love the ocean, its sounds and scent
But the mountains can remain
I love them from a distance
Does lava bring me joy?
Do I cheer wave action making sand?
No, never.
The opposite of love is not hate
The opposite of love is indifference
And I feel none of the above
For purple mountains, your majesty

My brothers wife, lovely eyes
Is my love less because of her?
Questions crazy to ask or answer
But demanded of many today as passage
Into the valley, where we can walk
On a smooth path
But

Some love the mountain
Others, the deep waters
Water means truth, to some of faith
But does that mean the mountain lies?
No.

I’d call it ironic
If I knew what that meant
Likely every listener
Finds it ironic
That I say these things
I have the blues
In my privileged ears
And I’m hungry
By my choice
To be other than that
I must cross the river
In the opposite direction
Of the old train
Quickly over the bridge
Into shadow
And I look into darkness
And see myself
And my love

To be me

To be me is a choice
My life matters
You have to listen,
But you never hear me
I am a villain
In a poorly drawn cartoon
All-powerful, god like
And a total fool
*** is mine
Love I never know
Money is my brother
And I value nothing
My brightest creation
Died, never seen
Always the enemy
Never the ally
I miss my friend

Who am I?
My life matters
But death surrounds me
My gift to you
Broken, in mud
To be me is to rule the world
Alone, un-mourned, and asleep

Who am I?

I killed a bug

I think it could fly
But, it didn’t
It was walking across the table
One pass of my index finger
It was no more

I killed a bug

Without a thought
Without washing my hands
Without blinking
Between breaths
I ended it

I killed a bug

What species? I don’t know
Could it sting me? No
Was it in the way?
Maybe so, but
It’s dead

I killed a bug