Mar 21 2007
it’s a sad funny
that gets my laughs
that makes me step back
to see how obtuse
is my life
and turns the corners
of my mouth
upward.
yet my spirit
hovers closer to the earth
neither rising nor descending
owning its position
over the fence
that prevents the decision
from making itself
for now
the sad funnies
will have to suffice
until the big bright
world comes back
into view and smacks me
around a little
copyright 2007
Mar 06 2007
When my life hurts
I imagine my other life
on the road not taken.
But, my mind wants to know
if is it the road not taken
that determines my life
Or me?
Would I be a different me
if I chose a different road?
Would the me of me
change with the seasons
the colors or the geograhy
Just because?
Or is it a trick
I play on myself
to explain away
my choices
good and bad
right and wrong
smart and stupid?
Even in my imaginings
I seem not able
to remove me from me
Untaken road or not.
No matter where I travel
in cars, on foot, in my imagination
the me of me is always there.
copyright 2007
Feb 26 2007
don’t open a door
better left closed
don’t let me imagine
our wonderful tomorrows
don’t pretend to care
after all this time
just tell me
why you never loved
me enough to stay.
copyright 2007
Feb 06 2007
Jane Eyre’s heart of love
Carried his soul always near
But love betrayed her.
copyright 2007
Jan 21 2007
I don’t really have anything to say
My clever words won’t come out to play today
My heart and soul can’t find its way
to entertain you.
My head won’t think
my eyes don’t blink
I’m not in the pink
sorry…nothing to see here.
copyright 2006
Jan 15 2007
Passing through
along the same road
for a time
sharing what is real
between us
What is important now
like orbs of light
joining
into a figure eight
Then separating
to go on to galaxies
at opposite ends
of the universe.
Copyright 2006
Jan 11 2007
Was it true love
what we had?
Soul Mates true
or passing ships?
Meant to be
of meant for the moment
Do you wonder?
What if?
Am I there
hovering in the back
of your mind too?
Do I lurk
in your soul
as you do in mine?
After all this time
is the memory fresh
as today’s sunrise
or yesterday’s news?
Copyright 2006
A writer without interest or sympathy for the foibles of his fellow man is not conceivable as a writer.
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