some say life's a maze,
a battle or a race,
a stage, a prison
or even onion,
but beautiful lives
are not that hard,
at least in regard
to how one best thrives.

but you do not need
big piles of money,
being handsome or
by the world adored.
you don't need a spouse,
quite devoted to you,
doing work you choose,
or a fancy house.

but as you've been told,
have no grudges hold,
live with no regrets,
forgive and forget,
live life with candor,
to yourself be true
with the things you do,
but don't be bystander

so, pick a journey,
canvas or story.
tend your life's garden,
ferry your ocean,
canoe your river,
bicycle or skate,
but make no mistake,
do it as a giver.

passionate vessel with scarred
canvas seeks hope since love is
never and loss inevitable

I caress you after
Bleeding out my tenderness
To your vulnerability

I dream of you
My heart wishing
What my mind
Knows cannot be

a hole can be an empty space:
a crater, cave, a pit, or loss

a hole can be sheer enjoyment
a dimple, gorge, or doughnut hole

a hole can also connect things
using a thread or fasteners

Honeymoons may be many things, but
They aren't some measurement of time,
More often they are diagnostic tools,
Dead battery, a check engine light,
Low oil, no seat belts, or low on fuel.

a kiss, as i perceive,
is not heart-shaped,
as you might believe,
but is probably round,
and is certainly red,
like a matador's cape -
as an omen of  things ahead.

it's neither chaperoned
with some remarks,
nor as good when thrown,
but often given in thanks
or followed with a sigh.
sometimes there's sparks,
but sometimes, it's just goodbye.

kiss is neither a vow,
nor monarch seal,
but when disavowed
there seems to be a loss.
it is like tasting soup:
some salt may add appeal,
but, often it just tastes like goop.

a kiss, an ember, a
lifeless seed, rises on
the breath of hope

a prayer that all things
be made beautiful
that oneness is one hand
joined to every other hand
mine to yours
and love that connects
two hands can create

a single leaf
attached by a thread
flutters with the wind

why does it not let go
and join its brothers and sisters
to blanket the ground

does it believe it will
recapture its vital force
with the return of spring

or does the tree hold on

beauty walks among
the brambles and the
catacombs of men's
lives on milky wings

because you are an adventurer,
because you are a romantic,
because you are practical,
because you play to win,
because you are open, frank, and honest,
because you are sincere,
because you are incapable of meanness,
because you are a good friend,
because you might share your fudgey brownies with me,
because romance is for the young or foolish and i am very foolish,
because your kindness touches my soul,

i hope

what gives your life real meaning?
at the top, i bet it is friends.
what else could give life such gleanings?
neither health nor fancy playpens?
but, while husbands name their wives
as their "bestie", why do wives name
other women as friends?

the brotherhood of men is
the strangest of any league,  
with neither familial  
nor mutual attraction  -
only an awareness that
comes after a pause, a wry
smile, and saying the phrase "yes, dear!"

a butterfly flirts with me

she stands before me
but turns when i look

then

she fans herself
like a spanish dancer
teases her audience

i wonder if she knows
how captivated i am
by her alluring ways

or

how i'd do anything
to hold on to this
moment

i can only pray
please stay

Can I accept you
Without stuffing you into my suitcase
Or accept the things the way they come
Without building expectations
For you to fulfill

baby blue stroller
fire engine red wagon
chrome oxide green bike
yellow convertible
azurite blue van
sorrel colored wheelchair

bronze casket

come to me, like spring days,  
after a hard winter;
make me forget the cold;
warm my heart with your smile
and your glance

come to me, like a storm
full of danger, yet hope
that all things are renewed
and the worst may have past
just briefly

come to me, like a song,
which so reverberates
and continually
repeats without an end,
in my head

come to me in quick steps,
dropping your gown on floor
and sliding your body
between the flannel sheets
next to me

Who wouldn't enter lion's den
To save a helpless child  
Or stand against oppression
When justice is denied?
Who wouldn't risk the pain
That love can sometimes bring,
Or endure, when all seems lost,
Or not to suffer betrayal's sting?

But how many can bear defeat,
When those around all cheer?
Or, how should one ever meet  
The grief of our fear?  
For me, great courage,
As difficult as it may be,  
Lies in seeking out the truth  
Wherever principle can be gleaned.

desire is not a spark,
an ember or a flame
it's a bleak and sometimes
unbearable cold

since desire cannot be
quenched or suffocated,
by food, sleep, ***, being
or success, desire can only
warm, if just briefly

Do we dare
Say we care
And leave truth
To search for
what is
you and me

I recall dry summer days
And how dust could linger
   in the air.
I loved to watch the trail of dust
   of the pickup,
As it drove those old dirt roads.

I enjoyed opening a slamming
   the big chests
      in the attic.

And I was fascinated
   by the fog
      of dust
I could create
   in the chicken yard.

Dust seemed to rise
   in the summer heat
      and billow
         and slowly
      ever so slowly
   settle
to completion.

each time
you are a new lover,
i go back and kiss stars
the way i thought i could
and lost
the last time

each time
you are a new lover,
spoken words become lies -
not expressing feelings
i had
as before

each time
you are a new lover,
and i forget your touch,
your breath against my skin,
your smell
you once had

each time
you are a new lover

there's a place
where there are no masks
not the teacher, the poet,
the lover or the scoundrel
only a trickle of blood,
stretching to infinity

there's a place,
which has the driest turkey,
inedible vegetables,
tasteless stuffing, and bland sides,
but there's nothing better to
remind us that we are home

it isn't quite the secret
to feeding many folk -
we're not talking peanuts
and it isn't quite the joke,
'cause some'll say they're fasting,
others will often share,
so there is no typecasting
when pantry may be bare;
secret to feeding many,
i'm ashamed to say,
on very little penny,
is to cook in the worst way

some listen to their heart,
as it feeds the body.
i listen to my phone,
as ping of your message
nourishes my being

Feelings, warm, a summer breeze,
When you look at me.
Never thought I'd feel again,
Except for some cold despair.  
Til you came into my life  
And showed me that you care.

Feelings, cold, a winter blast,
Frightened, like the past.
It's knowing you're not near.
Certainly, I must confide.
I need touch, your summer waft,
To warm me  deep inside.

a mole, odd-
shaped nose, bent
ears, dimples,
thick eyebrows,
with large eyes
much too close

i love your
unflawlessness

Tom & Jerry, Laurel & Hardy,
Batman & Robin, Fred & Barney,
Baggins & Gambee, Bert & Ernie,
Tom Sawyer & Hucklberry Fin,
Lone Ranger & Tonto, Snowy & Tintin,
Chip & Dale, Snoopy & Woodstock,
Archie & Jughead, Holmes & Sherlock,
Ethyl & Lucy, Larry-Curly-Moe,
Mutt & Jeff, Skywalker and Solo,
Laurel & Hardy, Lois & man of steel,
Are there any friendships real?

in the future
there'll be an app
to tell when you're
lying, so i
won't have to guess
you're lying just
because your lips moved

bruised moon overhangs
to remind me that the world
can be violent

October maples
Disrobe and strut **** bodies -
Come March, maples blush.

fire licks spiral and
dance, throwing goodbye kisses
to the nearby trees

Farewell!  Farewell!
The rest can go to hell.
And perhaps I should be chided
For being so small-mindedly pegged,
If it were left to me,
I would not care to see
Another Easter Egg.

History is not made
By those, who always
Do Good
But by those,
Who do bad
At the right time.

hope, a seed, is
minuscule, because
if much larger
it wouldn't be a
seed

How many ways can there be
To say "I love you" realistically?
You can promise to be faithful
And obey, be grateful
For each and every day,
Say how happy you're together,
Or you're birds of a feather,
But I contend all ways are not equal.

Or say she completes you,
Or how she brings your life value,
How much she's very special,
A one in a million miracle.
That you think of her a lot -
Cannot live another day without
Her, and how much you'll be devout.
That these truths are unequivocal.

You can tell her additionally
How she's unconditionally
Accepted and how she supercharges
Your libido and your being at large
And how she makes you feel.
Still better, practice what you mean
And how on you she can lean,
But you can't say, "Will you be my Marge?"

Humpty Dumpty was a very large gun
Used to protect against the English rebel ****,
But one bright person placed it on a wall
And did not anticipate such a great fall.

I am afraid
To seek answers
Secured in protected feelings
Afraid to risk truth

I am afraid
To question intentions
Gape into the darkness of rejection

I am afraid
To face loneliness
To leave the habit of your love
And to pray each new face
Might be the one

i am a leaf,
   caught in passion's wind.
      i can only feel myself
         being tossed into the air,
      cast from current to current,
   from elation to remorse,
      jealousy to disappointment,
        concern to misgivings,
     anxiety to grief to ardor.

                         i'm lifted into the air
                            and then
banged to the ground.

   she is dangerous.

      she moves too easily into my being.

i am a leaf.

   i have no will.

I am a pie
Laid open by love's knife
Because I've been there often enough to know,
Without even considering,
It's worth the price

I did not hear the bells on Christmas Day,
Amidst the tumult and the disarray,
For in the land, a strife was raging high,
And men in bitter conflict dared to die.

Yet in the midst of all the toil and fight,
There shone a glimmer of celestial light,
For God, in His eternal, boundless grace,
Still held us in the circle of His embrace.

Though discord fills the air with mournful knells,
And deep division in the land compels,
The love that came to Earth on Christmas morn,
Reminds us we are not by God forlorn.

So let the bells, though silent, speak the truth,
That is the heart of man, eternal youth,
And in the darkest night, a guiding star,
Reveals that peace and love are never far.

Though silent chimes, there's news from above,
That God still holds us in His tender love,
And though the world may tremble with much discord,
His presence, ever sure, we can afford.

Chorus:
I know God...

Voice One:
I remember planting a
small bean seed.

Voice Two:
I recall the miracle of a
newborn's fingers.

Voice Three:
I recollect the
feeling from the
tug of a
windblown kite.

Voice One:
I marveled how
the bean sprout
struggled against the earth.

Voice Three:
How the kite rose
majestically
into the sky,
then darted back and forth,
as if to nod
its approval.

Voice One:
Finally, the sprout
opened its leaf
as if to say hello.

Chorus:
So, while I may not have conversed with God,
I most certainly have shook God's hand.

i'm going out with the guys.
i'll see you in a few days.
got some dinners in the fridge.
don't forget to feed the pets.
and, the plants need watering.
i love you, dear.  don't wait up

chef inspired meals
cpa inspired tax returns
energy efficient inspired homes, cars, planes
paris inspired clothes
ivy league inspired education
heaven inspired happiness

In that fleeting moment of meeting,
I ask myself if I could ever love you.

Certainly, I want eternity,
   But I could be content,
      If, in that fleeting moment,

I could brush souls with you.

I cannot show you me
   All at once
Not the person I want
   You to see
Nor that personage I
   Cannot see
But if you should see my
   Someone else
Tell me another time

From the center of Love,
May love stretch across the earth
And fill the hearts of men.

From the center of Will
May purpose guide the wills of men,
Permitting mindfulness in our thoughts.

From the point of Light,
May light descend upon the earth
And fill the spirit of men

May love and mindfulness and light restore the Plan on earth.

It is not love itself
That satisfies my needs
But being able to touch and feel

Yet if I couldn't share
I would feel withered on the vine

She says complex, confusing, tough, involved, and hard to understand.
I say messed up.  Wrong thing to say.
She says arduous, intricate, perplexing, abstruse, and difficult.
I say fouled up. 
She begins again, but I interrupt and insist we get some sleep.  
I then watch her set the timer, so she can brush her teeth,
   for exactly two minutes.