a nightingale sings
i have many friends. some have left this life. many are distant. but all touch me every day. i feel the sway of all. so sad when people feel alone. i feel for them. there are songs for everyone. just listen for them.
squirrels bury acorns
memories of absent friends
some days i dont know where i am headed. complexity is a salvation. too many voices and it is easy to go to the silence. just be where you are. right now my mind is choosing colors from a baskin robbins rainbow. licking the past to find the future.
is there any other way
to die happy
you got your god and i have mine
i have a spiritual life. but not one attached to any other path. this one is mine but i will happily share it with you. a least until you wander off on your own.
with the waves
invitation to the blues
lauren bacall always fascinated me. a calm sexiness combined with a smile that never seemed to entirely fade. if i was a fifties sugar daddy i would have wasted a fortune on her.
but still sidney greenstreet
never gets the girl
i didnt mean to treat you so bad
a long time before indians ran casinos. that long ago. time changed my mind about everything. i want to be hip but still like bow ties so that tells you all you need to know about me. or does it. my confusion predates the indians and the invention of bow ties.
to all the clouds in all the skies
your selfish suicide
famous too long ago
one day i will get my fifteen minutes. i just hope i am not so high that all i do is babble about how it used to be. you know. back when i walked fifty miles through rain sleet and snow to get to wherever i was going. apples were sixty bucks apiece. and the aliens built temples to me when i was napoleon. pitiful is the base state of poets and i hate being trite (but what the hell).
dust mites in sunlight
living my future
in a flashback
wookiees have all the good lines
poetry is about writing the best lines. but the best poetry leaves the best parts to the reader.
in the quill
faint as a will of the wisp
you sing to the moon if you want. me i just stare quietly. i live with the oaks and pines. so very often my view is broken by leaves and needles and just as quickly there it is again. if we had many moons like saturn would it be better or would we just get bored with all those choices. as it is our lonely moon often matches our moods. the light grows and fades and grows again. in the changeless verity of it all the moon unites us. i imagine all the lonely others looking up with me.
as i reach
the end of the path
my mind wanders
id rather not give you my name i am in politics
leaving both parties was easy. what to do next is the issue. thinking about it the only solution is to ‘write in’ johnny depp for every office in every election. i believe it is the only way to win in the game of elections. oh and every yard sign should be red white and blue.
of another country
there is no credit limit on cash. if you have it you have it. and if you dont you dont. a wad of cash on the dresser and a diamond ring on my hand. it says what it says doesnt it.
if it was worth the wait