The Three Hundred Twelfth, November 8, 2011

Antigua

rising slowly from the mists

vague shadows of darker gray

color washed away by night

waiting for dawn's lingering kiss

fire on the eastern horizon

grows brighter with each breath

baited and expectant anticipation

hushed world awaits renewal

waves sweep ahead eagerly

painting a watercolor world

rays of sunlight thank them

gifts of sparkling jewels short lived

gray rinsed clean revealing life

transforming into thousands

greens and blues and browns

miraculously growing from the waves

brave new world calls to me

excited as an anxious new lover

passions building with morning

impatient to begin our affair

tropical hug warming the blood

feeling the whispered calls

tracing fingers along my bones

impossible to refuse siren's song

so with long slow inhaled breath

nerves tingling rediscovered spirit

ancestral tradition reincarnated

the explorer marches forth once more....

The Three Hundred Eleventh, November 7, 2011

have you ever tried
looking for yourself
and found you were standing
in the shadow of your parents

we are molded by their hands
shaped with their dreams
even when we think we rebel
they likely did the same

does their shadow weigh on you
making you fell somehow less
do not feel alone in this
it is simply growing up

we learn from those around us
the things we hear and see
eventually being shaped by them
copies or opposites for good or bad

do not feel disheartened though
for in time you too will see
parents often feel self guilt
for their every assumed mistake

realize the shadow felt around you
is a shelter from life's storms
to let you grow beyond them
becoming the protector in the end

The Three Hundred Ninth, November 5, 2011

Today I live
despite the world
rising on wings
so far above

eagles are below
as I climb higher
passing the clouds
gliding through rainbows

misted blurred vision
smoothes all edges
creating a tapestry
fog hugging rivers

passing overhead
no details seen
as morning rises
gently over the land

so many lives exist
going calmly on
I may never touch
very far bellow

are they even real
or pieces of my dreams
do their lives depend
upon my imagination

or what if someone
standing looking up
has the same thought
and we both hold our breath.....

The Three Hundred Tenth, November 6, 2011

there is a hand inside
clenching tight a fist
nails digging deep
no relief in sight

stomach drawn tight
dropping to the knees
dizziness engulfs all
dancing spots in sight

sharp urge to heave
nothing there for it
too weak to resist
another wracking

no sense crying more
no one heeds the sound
struggle to find something
anything to calm it

pray for sleep to come
then you do not know
it haunts your dreams
but it is your only rest

too many children know
too many children feel
they live with this daily
hunger as a teddy bear

think about them this year
as you plan your holiday
remembering their lack
as you offer your thanks

The Three Hundred Eighth, November 4, 2011

the work day ends
the vacation starts
the weight is gone
feel better already

it is time for a nap
just because I can
I am past that stage
I can sit and relax

not running around
just chilling out
doing nothing at all
and it feels soo good

VACATION!!!!
a week away from it
no daily tormenting
the rats will race alone

The Three Hundred Seventh, November 3, 2011

pressure builds
balloon swells
reality stretches
tension grows
everything distorts
bigger and bigger it continues to grow
seeking more space to hold it all in
the is no more room in the inn for it all

BOOM

ballon bursts
pressure gone
stress relieved
only time to tell
how bad the damage
feel it building again
nooooo
sigh and relax

I do not like midterms

The Three Hundred Sixth, November 2, 2011

it is not fair
just plain not fair
totally unfair
did I mention its not fair?

my back hurts
just standing can do it
sitting can as well
twisting wrong too

and there he lays
so smug and cute
sleeping soundly
twisted like a knot

its not fair I say
he runs and runs
leaps high in the air
darts in and out so fast

then falls asleep
twisted three ways
and eyes half open
watching me suffer

yes, he is an evil kitty indeed...

The Three Hundred Fifth, November 1, 2011

how long are the days
minutes seem weeks
and hours are months
waiting is sheer torture

this I can understand
there must be the bad
for the good to exist
for mediocrity is gray

waiting in the shadow
feeling the chill of it
draining the colors
giving cause for escape

all waiting will end
in time the goal achieved
sun will shine brightly
warm and colorful

from the bland of now
to the dreams of then
with reality catching up
I just hope it lives up to the hype.....

The Three Hundred Fourth, October 31, 2011

see them in their costumes
all dressed up to play
running excitedly around
bags held open for gifts

seeking all the goodies
they really do not need
so many bags are filled
but still they want more

they look cute don't they
how sweet they seem
as they smile so happily
as goodies go in the bag

you think of halloween
and smile at the thought
I speak of campaign season
and cringe with concern

The Three Hundred Third, October 30, 2011

when we look into the past
do we ever see the future
can the road behind us
lead to the place ahead

when we look at today
many claim to see the future
many claim to see the past
I think they are all blind

I look into the past as well
and you know what I see
I see the past laying there
not moving but still changeable

I see hints and clues behind
there are warnings there
I see writings on the walls
warning of dangers ahead

and what of the future then
can we see anything there
or is it only speculation
why does it matter at all

we can change the past
believe me on this one
happens more than you know
rewriting the histories

you change the future too
with every breath you take
can we predict what comes
from a chaotic liquid mass

there is no secret formula
that can about tell tomorrow
we have to live through
start with the day we have

choices made today
based on lessons learned
will not promise success
but can reduce the risks

no matter what happens
each day comes but once
so live the today for today
do the best that you can

tomorrow will come along
give it the best of starts
make today all you can
build the future one day at a time

The Three Hundred Second, October 29, 2011

nothing like the pressure
feeling the tension rise
clock tick tick ticking
count down running out

where will it take me now
floating along the stream
riding the waves looking
watching for something

hoping inspiration comes
searching for the muse
not sure there is one
maybe its only illusion

the muse is the mind
thoughts from within
creating the stream
and the thoughts pour

it amazes me to see it
time after time it works
not all glowing gems
but still they come

it is just another part
of the wild ride I'm on
exploring the pathways
finding how I work

what a wild ride.....

The Three Hundred First, October 28, 2011

here I stand now
calling all friends
all types and kinds
real and pretends

who do you know
why do you care
is anything real
or made up of air

what is the meaning
or does one exist
do you comply
or do you resist

where do we stand
or do we fall down
are we legitimate
are we a clown

do we have hope
tomorrow will live
be brighter than now
what more can we give

I still have my heart
is yours there too
without it we lose
its your time to choose

its time to live life
feel all you can feel
breathe every breath
make your life real

so I call on you now
to look deep inside
find the you inside
come along for the ride

find your true self
and open it wide
share with the world
the treasure inside

friends live together
never just for the one
caring for the group
all more than the one

we are one people
long named by clan
the tribe before all
we do what we can

stop all the games please
there is no time for it now
you fight far too long
selfish insensitive cow

be human in all things you do, please

The Three Hundredth, October 27, 2011

there is a legend of old
the brave and proud
the honorable chosen
the famous three hundred

against impossible odds
they stood tall to the last
the battle was not theirs
yet they alone stood

this is not that heroic
no spears and shields
nor rains of arrows fall
no great warriors honor

merely words written out
telling one man's thoughts
the battle of imagination
seeking creativity's flow

my battle continues on
three hundred battles won
still I manage to stand
not as sturdy as I was

leaning on the support
the strength of others
letting go of my pride
stepping outside my box

together we struggle on
seeing the end is near
yet like those legends
we will not give up now

stand with me renewed
help to carry onward still
united till the very end
then maybe start again....

thank you for your support through 300!

The Two Hundred Ninety Ninth, October 26, 2011

watch the swelling ranks
herds of mindless drones
you don't need education
why be in debt for 20 years

better to be poor and happy
earn enough to buy games
blindly creating the new AI
humanity's artificial imagination

breed in plenty like cattle
provide the cheap labor pools
care for the needs of others
servants for the powerful

watch the return of feudalism
landed gentry with iron fists
didn't they destroy the market
so they can buy you out cheap

cut spending by government
can't afford to waste cash
raise the standards as well
suddenly more to label loser

remove the middle class
over load the lower one
create the drones we need
no education needed for this

welcome to the new world order
you will call me mi'lord now
kneel willingly to be trodden
masses of ignorant serfs

read the writing on the wall
before they tear is down again
you have been bought and sold
but this is not even the end

let's take away their money
it would not matter at all
they have more than they need
and more than they can spend

so what is it they want you ask
they want power and control
they use your labors to own you
you are just another commodity

so what of the upper middle
the high side of the poor
they will be looked after
managers are always needed

behold the mindless drones
marching in perfect step
look forward to the future
you will find Orwell's 1984

The Two Hundred Ninety Eighth, October 25, 2011

darkness long and drawn
hanging over the world
a blanket covering the light
blurring the lines of reality

convenient place to hide
easy to sneak things about
hard to catch the movements
impossible to see the faces

there are two sides at work
bustling franticly unseen
laboring hard in silence
lest noise disclose their schemes

what purpose could they have
that would require such stealth
who are they avoiding and why
thieves or assassins or both

stay not only in the light child
but turn your lamp outward
shine the purity of your hope
through the blackness of greed

the dawn is coming soon
what secrets will be revealed
under the harsh light of reality
exposing it all to the world

soon the day of the reckoning
methods and motives made clear
but no excuses tolerated here
selfishness the greatest crime

The Two Hundred Ninety Seventh, October 24, 2011

Another Monday Diatribe


my quiet contemplation
upon the situation
led to my consternation
whatever can we say

perhaps a proclamation
made without reservation
spread across the nation
would help to save the day

should we even care
and try to do our share
becoming more aware
make opinions sway

and can we even dare
to raise a voice and compare
as though we are even there
not safely out of the way

now all thoughts will scatter
as you listen to my chatter
but does it really matter
its just a way to play

The Two Hundred Ninety Sixth, October 23, 2011

why is it always this way
starts with a high tackle
hitting right in the chest
knocked flat on the back

then the sumo comes in
stomping as he prepares
didn't need those lungs
breathing is over rated

then comes the heavies
arms and legs of lead
difficult to move now
and no desire to either

becoming the astronaut
off on a mission to Mars
this must be the reason
all the symptoms fit

muffled sounds = helmet
difficult breathing = vacuum
heavy weight = higher gravity
disconnected = wrong air mix

that sure solves that problem
tied it up neatly in a bundle
not getting sick in the least
just walking along on Mars

The Two Hundred Ninety Fifth, October 22, 2011

looking back on tomorrow
I realize the dream is real
but reality is just a dream
a juxtaposition of concepts

what will today hold for me
in the dreams of yesterday
in the monochrome world
of high definition living color

there is no logic involved
in such vague statements
as if it were even needed
as time follows no pattern

the illusion we live is ours
within linear man made hours
blinded to the truth of time
believing it is all that matters

we fight to ignore mortality
resisting the inevitable
but we cannot win that fight
and in the end is there an end?

if time continues without us
then why would our's stop
perhaps there is no time at all
and life is only ...........

The Two Hundred Ninety Fourth, October 21, 2011

it was a long and fun filled night
drawing away from the tasks
letting the mind relax and unwind
even to become a touch forgetful

turing off the mind
tuning out the world
calmly letting go
recharging the spirit

now the time has come once more
to saddle up for the bumpy ride
settle the fedora back on the head
make sure the whip in on the belt

turning on the mind
tuning in the world
calmly grabbing hold
sharing of my spirit

the new day dawns regardless
whether we are prepared or not
smile and stand to face it boldly
accept yesterday is now history

turning on the life
tuning into the living
calmly embracing all
sharinng of the love

once more stepping forward
into the bright future ahead
no time to fret about yesterday
all are not historians for a reason

turning on the joy
tuning into happiness
calmly feeling good
passing on the smile

The Two Hundred Ninety Third, October 20, 2011

thanks for punching me
for launching me airborne
across the living room
for telling me to go away

thanks for sitting alone
when I asked to play catch
reading a book instead
and still being better at it

thanks for growing up
being the golden child
setting the bar so high
it was impossible to touch

thank you for being you
then as you are now
you made my life harder
and I grew because of it

you always stood beside me
defending from the wrongs
though no one believed you
expecting me to be to blame

you supported my crazy ideas
listened to my wild rants
understood the strange twists
and never judged me for it

you were my hero then
I admire you more today
and then you tell me a secret
you wanted to be like me

to the greatest big brother
I am glad I was given you
you are an inspiration for me
as you are for many others

happy birthday to my big brother!
I love you.....

The Two Hundred Ninety Second, October 19, 2011

watching cowboy movies again
riding those horses hard and fast
clouds of dust rising into the sky
losing their hats in the chase

next scene hat is in place again
not a lot of dust on their clothes
walking along the streets of dust
the ladies in fine clean dresses

never quite understood that
as a kid I wanted to be one
a cowboy riding the range
I got dirty thinking about it

that doesn't seem very fair
my dreams crushed so soon
because I never learned how
to have that Hollywood style

I needed the wear and wear
the never too dirty clothes
then my dreams may have been
the Wild West would know my name

howdy, partner.. you can call me Dusty

The Two Hundred Ninety First, October 18, 2011

I am not a Brad Pitt
more like pitt bull
I see my face in the mirror
I know how I look

some will see my face
and judge on that image
not caring about truth
or the person within

I understand this too
I often feel the same
looking at that face
wondering who it is

not a pretty boy by far
more rugged than handsome
suppose Indiana was right
not the years but the milage

then there are the real
those that look closer
trusting what they see
with closed eyes instead

true beauty lies within
true cute hangs there too
where handsome swaggers
in a world too few see

trust me on this point all
it is better to look inside
see the person I am there
it causes less strain on the eyes

The Two Hundred Ninetieth, October 17, 2011

I missed the butterflies
the sun was shining
but they weren't there
it made a difference

true the wind was high
the temperature was not
inconsequential details
they could have done it

they didn't know I guess
that my day needed them
they never got the memo
its ok tho... they can't read

The Two Hundred Eighty Ninth, October 16, 2011

ah blessed innocence
belonging to the young
tormenting one minute
stealing our heart the next

their angelic sweetness
as eyes close in sleep
faces smooth to peace
for a moment quiet reigns

it is a common thing
not limited to humans
puppies and kittens
share this trait as well

I wonder when we lose it
what events change us
do we trade it away
for the 9 to 5 dream

I want to sleep that way
close my eyes and rest
not toss and turn all night
but sleep in innocence

The Two Hundred Eighty Eighth, October 15, 2011

so many lies are told

where do we find truth

we even lie to ourselves

then try to believe them

we learn false lessons

as others shape our life

pushing us into the box

conforming us nicely

this is not who we are

not cookie cutter people

we need not feed lies

they don't nurture us

honesty seems hardest

when we talk to ourselves

we think we know us

know every flaw and fault

these are only imagination

based on the other's ideal

formed from their lies

keeping us in their mold

find yourself instead

seek the qualities in you

not the faults supposed

dwell on your positives

their lies are a trap

only you can break free

believe in yourself first

tell yourself the truth

too many lies around us

too many seeking control

too many other agendas

too many that don't care

find your forgiveness

for yourself within you

love yourself as you are

then you can share truth

The Two Hundred Eighty Seventh, October 14, 2011

silent conversations
so many things not said
whole moments of life
passing away unheard

needed explanations lost
special plans never made
misunderstandings uncleared
hurts hidden never to heal

two sides of every coin
negative brings a hurt
sadness a feeling of loss
time let get away from us

never saying the words
we deeply wished we had
mourning those moments
but for whom do we weep

silence is not lonely
silence is not sadness
silence is not secretive
silence is not to blame

silent conversations
so many things not said
quiet moments of sharing
no words need voiced

the special look given
a special touch shared
knowing each other's mind
thoughts passing easily

the quiet of the moment
words would get in the way
feel the comfort around you
that only silence brings

do not blame the silence
if you fail to communicate
it is not the sound that is missing
it is something far more personal

The Two Hundred Eighty Sixth, October 13, 2011

what happened to the rain?
it used to be warm and gentle
soothing the earth with its kiss
leaving everything fresh and sweet

then something happened
the wind got bolder
the rain got colder
and I got older

I swear I have pains now
places I never had joints before
I have no need for any barometer 
just try to stand up and go walking

yes something certainly happened
now the wind has a harsh bite
and the rain turned white
so I say good night

I am totally not ready for winter......

The Two Hundred Eighty Fifth, October 12, 2011

I thought I had a plan
a sure fire can't miss
get rich quick plan
bound to be a success

market common sense
figure out the way
to make it a soft drink
bottle and can it up

load all the pop machines
in offices malls and schools
give it away free too
because everyone loves free

get the country hooked
addicted to common sense
unable to resists logic
thinking things through

the whole nation consumed
with a need to understand
find the answers before
running off at the mouth

sales in Washington DC
would be below average
not many there would dare
jeopardize their campaign gifts

perhaps eventually a shift
leave them on the Potomac
move the real capital to Topeka
taking it back to the people

leave Wall Street alone too
let them wallow in greed
buying and selling to themselves
because we won't need them

ignore Hollywood as well
not much truth there anymore
as artificial as Capital Hill
but slightly lower pay scale

common sense tells us all
things we seem to forget
nothing is ever totally free
some one pays the price

those that pay the most
are those that have the least
capitalism works for the rich
socialism supports the poor

drink another soda and look
see if you can find the way
a solution to the social crisis
before we lose Eden once more

The Two Hundred Eighty Fourth, October 11, 2011

harken insanity for I do know thy name
oft its tones rolled round and through me
distraught as the lone peal of cathedral bells
being swallowed by a deep midnight fog

verily do I know thy voice as well insanity
many a time hast the whisper of it come
caressing mine ear like the sliding of silk
chills racing across skin like a spider's dance

how well I do know thine touch insanity
the cold claw of the hand falling upon me
fingers of icy dread dig deep into warm flesh
seeping to slowly fill and take hold mine mind

thy face oh gods insanity thy face I know too well
it haunts my life while I wake and slumber
image seared into memory beyond forgetfulness
grins with skeletal glee through my every thought

I feel thee in every corner of my world
constantly perching on my shoulder like a bird
eyes darting to and fro seeking a shiny
never holding long to any single thought

it is my erstwhile fear that I will become you
that my strength to resist will fade to dust
the who that I am becoming lost in chaos
but worse still I will not notice nor care

time has come to rise and fight the foe
taking arms against such foul and vile fiend
it is still mine own mind for which I fight
and once saved shall defend all others as well

there is no place for thee in my world insanity
your illusions of grandeur only seen by thee
your power the greatest falsehood you own
for thou hast none but what thou canst dream

my mind is too filled with other people's insanity.... I just want my own back

The Two Hundred Eighty Third, October 10, 2011

if it isn't broke
use a bigger wrench
then fix it a bunch
until its busted good

no letting sleeping dogs lie
innovate and improve
change the processes
to reduce productivity

the wonderful world
of micro mismanagement
the joy that fills my day
as I look for the handle

it needs to go faster
its not bad enough yet
so grab the bigger wrench
we didn't need it anyway

The Two Hundred Eighty Second, October 9, 2011

time is drifting past
once again I wait
inspiration is waiting
just around the corner

why not just give up
just write something
toss it against the wall
turn around call it a day

would anyone mind
after all the work so far
would anyone blame me
for just one day of slack

but no it cannot happen
the ethic drives me on
demands the best of me
and nothing less will do

they may not all be great
but each will be legit
struggles though they be
the readers deserve this

and so my mind shakes
rattling the rocks inside
until at last a something
falls out through my hands

I don't know how it works
and I doubt I ever will
it is the miracle of it all
they just seem to appear

perhaps it is the project
summoning them forth
providing the inspiration
when I can see none

where ever they fall from
I know that I am glad
to see the words forming
as I enjoy this wild ride

The Two Hundred Eighty First, October 8, 2011

colorful moments in life
watching as leaves turn
shift slowly from greens
to reds yellows oranges

season shifting forward
ageless cycle continues
life begins grows strong
then fades slowly away

funny how that happens
we see it all around us
it is a part of our world
nature turns the wheel

why then is it different
for humanity at large
we grow slowly older
who says how beautiful

the change of nature
often thrills our senses
riding along on busses
tourists snap pictures

and yet we turn away
looking anywhere else
to avoid seeing the old
as their time draws near

is there not the beauty
in a life so deeply lived
that we should see also
and find the joys within

casting personal vanity
across the species at will
an act beyond stupidity
as the blind can explain

beauty is deceiving use your mind instead

The Two Hundred Eightieth, October 7, 2011

today I had a glimpse
into a possible near future
at where the world is going
at I was not impressed

petty power plays and games
to give a demonstration
to prove who dominates
or who is the biggest ass

I saw the world on edge
anger barely contained
words used like swords
held in amateur hands

no warrior battle tested
can wield a weapon so
as the greatest danger
lies in the fool's hands

I witnessed a microcosm
saw potential patterns unfold
tension oozing vile poison
destruction for personal gain

it matters not what you feel
even less what you think
only that I can control you
shut up and do as I say

looking out from this box
I see the world around me
correlations fall into place
individuals become metaphors

stand up tall for your beliefs
defend your way of life
guard your culture dearly
square off with the oppressor

never show any weakness
they must come to understand
you are trying to help them
you know whats best after all

butting heads like two rams
knocking the senses out too
silly infantile over reaction
some one peed in the pool

when will we understand
none of this matters at all
so you die with the most toys
you can't take them with you

bullies come in assortments
all sizes shapes and colors
person and business and nation
push to have things their way

how do we teach our children
bullying is such a bad thing
as we boast of hostile takeovers
and crushing the competition

sending troops into countries
because they have what you want
shove your beliefs down throats
give them your way of life

I resented the childish behavior
considered the situation a loss
no value in this exchange
both sides the biggest loser

now I have comprehension
the lesson was there all along
just waiting for eyes to open
to see things outside that box

The Two Hundred Seventy Ninth, October 6, 2011

a Swedish poet wins the prize
and someone decides to explain
why it was not a yank, again
and it seems we just don't care

we dwell within ourselves
writing from our own lives
telling our petty personal tales
too afraid to rock any boats

we write from what we know
we do not expand beyond
we limit ourselves by this
essentially we are boring

do we stand up and protest
or simply whine and complain
we do not express beyond
simply wallow in US

this is not my path at all
to accept such a condemnation
I speak my mind freely
no matter how mom resents

I express displeasure often
calling government to task
ranting about the fallacies
we are supposed to believe

let me speak my mind
and not care who hears
in fact the fewer the better
less questions to answer

wake up you sleeping fools
stand up and face the truth
we are why we are left behind
as we accept their truths

I speak what I see with my eyes
expressed with my words
and only seek understanding
within the mind of the reader

do we really suffer so
in literary understanding
because public education
is allowed to be such a joke?

WAKE UP AMERICA
YOU ARE FAILURES
a disgrace to the very world
you imagine yourselves leading

vanity buys you failures
greed provides for the few
the revolution is coming
where will you stand then?

The Two Hundred Seventy Eighth, October 5, 2011

may I help you?
a wonderful question
answered with another
can I be helped?

I have often wondered
if there is any for me
or will I just plod on
the way I always have

guess it doesn't matter
help is not in store
I am stubborn enough
to try it all on my own

so can anyone help
or is it all individual
to figure it all out
in the way that fits

this is how you fix it
its what you need to do
I am already doing that
so I guess I am fixed

but I don't remember the snip

The Two Hundred Seventy Seventh, October 4, 2011

• 
  
  Inspiration came to me today. Please take a moment to read what a friend sent to me as a gift for writing these poems each day, for it was in her words, from her heart, that I found the emotions in mine.
  
  
  For Sherrie
  
  
  you see scars on your heart
  I see something more
  deeper and to be honored
  cherished and nurtured
  
  
  I see lessons of what love is
  how love can and should be 
  above and through it all
  I see the one constant thing
  
  
  yes, it has to be very difficult
  to see suffering every day 
  and this makes you indeed
  very special and gifted
  
  
  not many hearts could face
  such tribulation day after day
  you are a far stronger spirit
  than most others I know  
  
  
  you are a hero to be lifted 
  in the hearts and the prayers 
  cherished in the thoughts 
  of each and every one of us
  
  
  you make last moments dignified 
  for those that often feel all hope 
  of any dignity stolen when they heard 
  those dreadful words "terminal"
  
  
  I want to thank you personally
  for all that you every day do to help 
  remind so many of the wonder and glory
  that is human compassion and love 
  
  
  love for our fellow beings unknown
  unconditionally giving of yourself 
  to make another feel right to the end
  their life still held some worth
  
  
  let us all join to say a thank you
  for all those that have never had 
  the chance to say it themselves
  thank you so very much!

The Two hundred Seventy Sixth, October 3, 2011

the young one asked the old

how do you ever know
when you find the one
not just any someone
but that one and only

is it in the shivers
that race along the spine
every time you hear
the mention of their name

is it the silly smile you have
every time you see them
that slight lip twitch quirk
lopsided like a drunks

is it in the humming
that fills your ears
like music no one can hear
the song that is their name

does your stomach spin
butterflies dancing happily
impossible to sleep at night
no desire to eat either

the old one answered calmly

it is none of those things
and yet it is so much more
it is something that you feel
every day of your life

you only ever know it
when your time is over
and you realize finally
two have always been one

you know they are the one
when no one else matters
when you see their face
when you look in the mirror

you know they are the one
when you itch they scratch
when you finish for each other
because you are one soul

you know they are the one
when life finally calls due
until them you only hope
that you are the one for them

The Two Hundred Seventy Fifth, October 2, 2011

a chill wind comes
sweeping the plains
with the first real taste
of the winter soon to come

leaves prepare for the trip
heading down slowly
always in random patterns
on their one way flight

the season is changing
signs surround us
sights sounds smells
each with its own place

on the wind hints drift
of leaves being burned
wood smoke as well
as back yard fires glow

other scents caress as well
outdoor markets filling
enjoyed with hands warmed
by a steamy cup of hot cider

yes the air is cooler
but the warmth remains
moving deeper inside
keeping our hearts filled

its time for warm sweaters
and so perfect for cuddles
long slow strolls as well
sharing the day hand in hand

and what better way to say
happy birthday to my love
on her very special day
then to say I love you with cider and a donut???

The Two Hundred Seventy Fourth, October 1, 2011

it is amazing how we can see
life from a whole new way
through a simple little act
tho the hero is unglamorous

fulfilling the little duites
that bring us no fortune
and lead not unto fame
simply making live easier

a salute to the heros
unheralded in our world
the washers of windows
the sweepers of streets

all hail the lowly heros
the unsung underpaid
those that are over looked
my thanks go out to you

thank you for doing
all those thankless jobs
no one ever notices
I have, and will.. thank you!

The Two Hundred Seventy Third, September 30, 2011

the best laid plans
never work anyway
too many variables
life gets in the way

unexpected changes
keep things interesting
but please remember
that is not always good

chaotic havoc ensues
topsy turvy bustle
hurry here and there
trying to be in place

finally understanding
I am where I am
its where I should be
plans can be wrong

enjoy the moment you are in

The Two Hundred Seventy Second, September 29, 2011

hello once more
my dear old friend
so nice of you to vist
though you really leave

you fill my mind
never straying far
always staying with me
every moment of my day

I have surrendered
no longer to oppose
it seems forever stuck
with a monkey on my back

confusion dear confusion
how you make a mess of me
so long have you directed
so confused I have found clarity

The Two Hundred Seventy First, September 28, 2011

A Hymn for Detroit

complex vast diversity
city flaunting glitz and glamor
gleaming in bright sunshine
glittering in harsher neon

no time to slow down
just watch the pretty people play
no time for any sleep
party like you have no cares

this is the place to be
the streets flowing with life blood
illusions of good times
all this make believe prosperity

don't turn your head
look only at the pretty lights
don't turn your head
pretend you can't see or hear
don't turn your head
the reality is cold and harsh

a bastion of higher learning
educating those young minds
seeking to fix things
make the world a better place

don't look over there
homeless sleeping on a bench
in the middle of it all
a different kind of education

walk down the street
with student apartments scattered
vacant lots beside them
campgrounds for the poor


don't turn your head
look only at the pretty lights
don't turn your head
pretend you can't see or hear
don't turn your head
the reality is cold and harsh


the other side of the city
seen in the cold harsh light of day
empty skeletons revealed
evidence of destroyed dreams

first you sold your dignity
then you gave away all honor
corrupting even your pride
making hope a false dream

many will call you dead
give you up as a lost cause
pointing to your decay
calling out your failed leadership

you are not dead at all
there is still much life in you
you are very gravely ill
the prescriptions aren't working

gangrene running rampant
where neighborhoods once thrived
poisoning the future generations
offering nothing but despair

infections haunt your halls
diseases like corruption and greed
stealing away your visions
your life sold for personal gain

lift up your head again
call out with a loud voice once more
lift up your head again
let the world know you still live
lift up your head again
stand proud and straight and tall

rise up once more dear city
shake off the negativity you wear
listen to your heart again
it is time to regain your life

do not fear to exercise
burn away the fat that slows you
restore your corridors of commerce
re tone the atrophied limbs 

celebrate your heritage
no place else will ever be like you
the story of your life is grand
it is not time for obituaries


lift up your head again
call out with a loud voice once more
lift up your head again
let the world know you still live
lift up your head again
stand proud and straight and tall

The Two Hundred Seventieth, September 27, 2011

small thin cylinder
just a white tube
sharp glowing ember
acrid bite of smoke

once you were my lover
my world revolved around you
I craved your harsh kiss in my morning
needed it at night so I could sleep

I see you now
with new lovers
corrupting them
as you once did me

I can finally see you now
can see at last what you truly are
my personal addiction to destruction
silently destroying all that I am

this will not be
I cast you away
living life free
my life is my own

The Two Hundred Sixty Ninth, September 26, 2011

it's football season
yes, it's finally here
throw out the diet
and grab more beer

order the pizza
open some chips
no time for salsa
don't need the dips

the summer is past
no more waiting
time to get loud
and start tailgating

I wish research was this much fun

The Two Hundred Sixty Eighth, September 25, 2011

oh how I hate allergies
clogging the passages
stopping up the nose
defeating sense of smell

now the medication comes
smell the pretty flowers
waiting for the clearing
only those silly flowers

walking past bakeries
knowing what is gone
no fresh bread for me
only those silly flowers

fresh coffee in the cup
watching the steam rise
not a trace do I get
only those silly flowers

eventually it works
the world opens up
aromas now assail me
standing beside a dumpster

just the way my luck goes some days

The Two hundred Sixty Seventh, September 24, 2011

gently march the shadows tall
across the sun drenched sward
easing the brilliant verdant green
softening the day as night draws near
where does the tension of the day fade to
as the sun sinks low in the sky
the peace of twilight's subdued colors
leaching energy from the world
guiding it toward sleep
I care not where such anxieties go
only that they trouble me no more
that my mind may rest and find peace yearned for
to make new once more that tomorrow
waiting patiently in the wings
waiting it's turn to take the stage
its act in life's play to complete
until the curtain goes down once more
in the gentle march of the shadows tall
across the sun drenched sward

The Two Hundred Sixty Sixth, September 23, 2011

and so I sit once more
contemplating the words
still echoing in the past
waiting for her return

she comes to me quietly
a shadow that fades away
when ever I turn to see
a glimpse nothing more

the muse is a mystery
never one to be tamed
living by her own rules
always a welcome guest

never answering a call
there when she wishes
filling a certain need
only she can understand

I love and hate her
all in the same breath
for the inspiration given
and the long wait for it

perhaps it is just me
and I do not need muse
perhaps it is my crutch
but I won't push my luck

thank you for coming
to rescue me once more
a center for my focus
letting the words flow free

The Two Hundred Sixty Fifth, September 22, 2011

A Tribute to  Alyce Joyce (Sally)

To every life there comes a time
To let go of things we love
Opening the hands that hold
Giving the freedom longed for

Heavy hearts remain behind
Filled with sorrow at the loss
Filled with love that survives
Filled with hope of reuniting

Sometimes a life grows long
The valiant spirit begins to tire
The dreams of youth passed by
Now only wishing to go home

We living mourn the passing
Losing a part of our hearts
Feeling an empty place form
This we must let go as well

Hollows have a purpose also
They are a place to be filled
They are there to hold close
Keeping precious memories

Fill your heart with happiness
Let it wash the sorrow from you
Until only the joy of life remains
Knowing they will never leave

Tired and weary is the spirit
Seeking to finally have peace
Rest well with your Maker
Find your place at last, Dear Soul

Thank you for your living
Making the world sweeter
Because you shared your heart
To those who needed you

May you find your Rest and Peace in Paradise.

The Two Hundred Sixty Fourth, September 21, 2011

what is success
what is greatness
how will we know
when we get there

is success money
or power and fame
is it having everyone
remember your name

none of the above
define them to me
those selfish endeavors
make one small

greatness lies within
and leads to success
by being something more
than all about ME

the greatest people
smile in the morning
at the face in the mirror
looking back at them

success is being there
when someone needs
and caring for the ones
that no else one wants

success is stepping up
defending everyone's right
to think and feel as they wish
even those you oppose

success is raising a child
who sees beauty and love
and wants to pass it along
rather than whine for more

greatness is in the giving
reaching deep inside
sharing the what that you are
giving a part of you

they come from others
when they think of you
and smile at the memories
knowing you mattered

wealth is not success
when measured by mass
materialistic scales by man
of gold or silver or land

wealth is measured
in all those around us
the warmth of their smiles
and how we touched them

live life to the fullest
relishing what matters
all those that share with us
the path we call life

The Two Hundred Sixty Third, September 20, 2011

how do you pay forward
all the things done for you
those kindnesses shown
mercies that came your way

do you stand out front
shouting loudly for all
COME AND SEE ME
seeking personal praises

do you play it bashful
hiding behind another
not wishing to be seen
wanting only to be helpful

are you loud against it
calling such things foolish
sneaking around to help
making sure no one sees

there are some who say
it needs done just right
or it is for selfish ends
as though there are rules

does the receiver care
what motivates kindness
does it make the debt less
less to pay ahead themselves

I do not think this is true
the debt remains the same
for every kindness garnered
at least one must be given

the gift is never lessened
by the actions of the one
the karma is hie reward
as less will come his way

if you do not wish to give
then do not accept from others
and soon you can be alone
living in your own world

I choose to pay forward... how about you

The Two Hundred Sixty Second, September 19, 2011

I have a little question
that's been troubling me today
is it alright to be crazy
and is it insane to be OK?

and does it really matter
what someone calls you in the end
can it be as important
as who considers you their friend?

if standing on my head
turns the world all topsy turvy
doesn't that just prove
that it does revolve around me?

I really tried hard today
to find some sanity deep within
but once more I was lost
with out a clue where to begin

I think I sort of like that
being considered off the wall
making life less boring
in fact I'm having quite a ball

The Two Hundred Sixty First, September 18, 2011

moving along
going strong
push it forward
making the move

feeling good
set the pace
keep it going
feel it pop

pain explodes
stabbing through
knee gives out
ending the day

it felt good
right up until
now crutches
I hate growing old

The Two Hundred Sixtieth, September 17, 2011

kindness is a gift
given and received
the freer the better
yet never owned

try to hold it
and it fades away
lock it in a safe
and it will be gone

simply give it away
you will never lack
the more you proffer
the more you find

this is true value
more so than gold
your worth grows
by keeping none

giving love away
to stray puppies
has filled my heart
with their love

wake up Wall Street
here is the truth
the only investment
that really matters

and the best type of bail out EVER!

The Two Hundred Fifty Ninth, September 16, 2011

there is a place
a perfect place
a private place
it is MY place

inside my mind
I have a home
where it all fits
it makes sense

it's a happy place
warm and sunny
with balmy breezes
soft gentle waves

too bad it's lost
it seems misplaced
it was pushed aside
by cold reality

stress is the foe
pressing in on me
forcing wakefulness
stealing my dreams

I know that its there
that wonderful place
still hidden inside
tucked safely away

it needs to be found
taken from mothballs
restored to the light
rescuing my sanity

I doubt even CSI could rescue that.....

The Two Hundred Fifty Eighth, September 15, 2011

I was just recently asked
was I losing my memory
I can't remember by whom
I have no idea why they asked

I think I remembered my
what was it I needed
but I have whatever it was
I put it right over there

did I mention to you yet
that some one was asking
only just the other day
was I losing my memory

now where did I put that
what is it called again
oh well never mind
it will turn up again soon

I miss my mind, where ever I left it....

The Two hundred Fifty Seventh, September 14, 2011

one of life's great pleasures
is found in the simple nap
granting the body a rest
letting the mind unravel

the warm gentle peace
of such a blissful escape
letting the pressures fade
finding relaxation at last

cannot be for too long
the world will not wait
we need to get back to it
but oh for a moment...

I need a nap right about now.... again

The Two Hundred Fifty Sixth, September 13, 2011

I have a very dear friend
hard to believe I know
her story asks a question
no one wants to address

she is trying to recover
following heart surgery
it is not going very well
she struggles each day

bills take all her money
weakness drains her too
unable to do very much
self-esteem taken away

wondering every morning
if today is her last day
will she have more life
ever able to live it again

television adds insult
floating across the screen
the face of Dicky appears
her tax dollars at work

She struggles for treatments
he has all the best care
she can't make appointments
he has doctors come to him

she has not shot a friend
she did not begin any wars
only supported a nation
that is turning their back

we conveniently forget
those that need our help
wounded veterans, the poor
lost children, and homeless

where are the priorities now
that hypocrisy becomes law
care only for the wealthy
providing for their greed

compassion is left behind
the charge of those who care
typically poor themselves
yet they can still find ways

shame upon the narrow
the greed filled and blind
who only seek their pleasures
missing the real point of life

I will pray for my friend
giving the hope that I can
knowing how she struggles
as I cry at the injustice of greed

The Two Hundred Fifty Fifth, September 12, 2011

The question I'm asked all the time
is why is it my poems don't rhyme
the answer is easy you see
that style doesn't appeal to me

I speak the thoughts in my mind
which are often quite hard just to find
if you look just to find the measure
you will certainly miss the treasure

chaotic eruption of thought
feelings explode into words
images composed in the mind
flashes of insight beyond intent

deeper meanings reveal themselves
hidden away beneath the surface
most unintended when written
subconscious message to conscious

this is a secret I freely will share
the meanings I didn't put there
reveal things even to me
that I didn't imagine to be

messages mixed between the minds
the private speaks to the public
amazing the hand that wrote them
too productive to be an accident

a new revelation on the journey....

The Two Hundred Fifty Fourth, September 11, 2011

first comes the weight
feet and legs of lead
then the rest follows
the body starts to fight

icy hot chills and sweat
unable to get warm
unable to cool down
shaking from the chills

sneezes and coughs
with nose too plugged
your only breathing
is wheezing gasps

temperature climbs
eyes won't stay open
but still you can't sleep
colds are sheer torture

The Two hundred Fifty Third, September 10, 2011

sunshine calls out softly
tugging us to come play
frolicking in the outdoors
in the last summer breeze

the droning of lawnmowers
children laughing loudly
but the greatest part of all
comes wafting in the air

the aroma of fresh cut grass
tickles the nose teasingly
reminders of the spring
so close but so far away

the annual teasing of autumn
tricking us into the belief
that summer will never end
how sad to see leaves fall

The Two Hundred Fifty Second, September 9, 2011

rain drops cling to the window
slowly riding gravity's train
drifting through rays of light
turning into miniature lamps

soft glows like floating embers
bumping into one another
merging and growing larger
assimilated into the collective

speed increases as they swell
until they become a stream
the internal glow stretching
until at last the light fades

darkness rushes to fill the void
but the rain will not yield yet
new drops strike the glass
beginning the cycle anew

and so the pattern continues
lasting through the storm
and through it all is heard
the singing of the shower

better than any television show
these gentle low tech pleasures
that can set the mind at ease
are the perfect sleep aid.... good night....

The Two Hundred Fifty First, September 8, 2011

imagine a world
where every thing
is the same color
and all monochrome

could you even walk
with no way to see
the beginning of one
the end of the other

there can be no depth
no shape nor form
if there is no distinction
that can be recognized

how different are we
that we should be alike
clones of one another
all the uniformed drones

the stagnation of life
the puppet mentality
follow the rest of them
and forget the lemmings

I don't want to be
the same as anyone else
and I am equally certain
not many want to be me

so listen to the world
with your own ears
think for yourself
decide what you want

if you look for guidance
take care where you seek
some will try to pull you
others will simply push

wait to see the road
before you decide a path
and be certain it is you
that makes the choice

the world is not bland
let alone monochrome
revel in all the colors
that make life interesting

The Two Hundred Fiftieth, September 7, 2011

creativity has fled
feeling no thoughts
flowing rivers are dry
even dust lies still

cannot find the spark
no muse has come
sitting alone in my mind
looking out the windows

rain falls in my mind
gray overcast thoughts
draining the energy
leaving me exhausted

I hope for some sun
to lift the blahs away
bring back the spring
letting imagination grow

I miss the randomness
of the eclectic thoughts
inspiring my dreams
feeding me words

perhaps being stable
is not such a good thing
for the overall condition
of my wild imagination

sometimes its tough to grow up.

The Two Hundred Forty Ninth, September 6, 2011

where are you supposed to go
after already finding your home
is this the end of the journey
or merely the start of the next

there is no completion after all
the path continues on and on
does it end with death or start
the next road may be the one

this life we live is a dream
the reality exists beyond
reincarnation is depressing
better to move outside this one

is there really life at all though
or is it all just a dream from above
a higher being on an acid trip
hallucinating our entire reality

life means nothing outside
the cosmos find us a blip
it is only within ourselves
that meaning becomes clear

so is there a home at all
or does the path lead on
forever onward the road
even beyond death's gate

the answer is simply yes
there is a home for all
it lies not so deep within
it is where you live your life

The Two Hundred Forty Eighth, September 5, 2011

and so it came to pass
that friends were joined
evermore to be as one
hearts bound eternally

with the taking of a hand
the sharing of a vow
the trading of two rings
the miracle happened

some have even asked
how long forever is
seeking to be freed
forsaking their given oaths

I say it is not enough
that forever is too soon
how can I know you
in such a short time?

too many seem confused
by lust and infatuation
mistaking those for love
ending up sad and hurt

love is more than beauty
bank accounts or salary
it doesn't need hard bodies
or even clear complexions

some say love is blind
I say love sees everything
not caring about flaws
but seeing beyond them

flaws give character
making us all unique
without the negatives
there could be no positives

and so it is with love
that I can accept you
loving you as you are
happy you are YOUnique

The Two Hundred Forty Seventh, September 4, 2011

Friendship


what does it mean
to be called friend
what do you need
to call another yours

many answers exist
in emails status updates
greeting cards poems
each a generic riposte

we each need to find
deep within ourselves
the answers fitting us
and hold true to them

if you call me friend
then you should know
what that means to me
that you will understand

it means I will care
will want to help you
will try to fix things
will need you to smile

that I will feel you
your pains and joys
the tears and smiles
frustrations and successes

it means spending wishes
for your perfect health
your total happiness
your peace of mind

It means understanding
that we are not the same
and embracing you still
cherishing our diversity

as for me to call friend
carries a simple request
to be honest and fair
and accept me as I am

there are levels to this
some dearer than others
and a few even more so
they are deep in my heart

cherished and protected
a special piece of my life
for them the rules change
as love is scarcely enough

they are parts of my life
entwined with my own
extensions of my heart
other pieces of my soul

I thank you for coming
and joining my madness
for accepting who I am
with no judgements given

thank you for sharing
all the good you see
but also sharing the bad
and not locking it away

through that sharing
the bond grows too strong
for any force to sever
and life grows by addition

my life would be duller
some of the luster gone
if I had not met you
or been to shy to wave

no matter what comes
today, tomorrow, next year
I will never again be alone
for you came into my life

The Two Hundred Forty Sixth, September 3, 2011

oh what a day
filled to the top
tasting the thrill
living the moments

family and friends
sharing the hours
sharing the smiles
a special closeness

these are the days
that give meaning
to why we live
and bring me peace

The Two Hundred Forty Fifth, September 2, 2011

rainy days
cloudy skies
draining energy
lethargic days

doldrums settle
like drops in pools
slowly filling the day
making sleep the ideal

lazy days
snuggle days
warm blankets
hot tea and a book

no desire to move
no real reason to either
just listen to the rain fall
letting the world pass us by

no sunshine
its not needed
we have the warmth
in each other's company

makes me wonder
why would one ask
such a small question
as "who'll stop the rain?"

The Two Hundred Forty Fourth, September 1, 2011

shall I go to the mountains
or head to visit the ocean
maybe a lake shore escape
a camping trip to the woods

each has its advantages
and its disadvantages too
it is ever so difficult
deciding which I wish

the mountains standing tall
with high snow capped peaks
icy cold lakes and streams
hiking and fishing delight

the ocean's constant waves
washing the white beaches
the smell of the salty air
swimming, surfing all day

or off to the lake shore
for boating and fishing
swimming and water skiing
so much fun out on the water

camping is a great get away
the sounds of the woods
both by day and by night
and 'smores by the fire too

I cannot decide on just one
they are all su great getaways
I think I will take them all
since it is only a day dream

The Two Hundred Forty Third, August 31, 2011

consider the wonder
of the human hand
in all its many parts
the many things it does

we can bend it
wave it, shake it
twist it, wiggle it
all at the same time

we can create with it
draw and paint with it
sculpt and write with it
building works of art

we can open things
close things, tie things
zip things, rip things
we can tear things apart

we can also touch with it
reach out and care with it
holding a hand, patting a back
brushing a tear away with it

sharing our hearts with it
makes it logical to me now
to wear our hearts on our sleeve
since they end with a hand

The Two Hundred Forty Second, August 30, 2011

warm delightful sunshine
filling the day with smiles
reboot

warm balmy breezes
reboot

the sun is shining down
smiling on mother nature
warming the earth below
reboot

stuck in a rut
locked in a cubical
no hope for escape
system stable

society has messed up priorities....

The Two Hundred Forty First, August 29, 2011

windows
the blessing
the curse
today they are the bane

the sounds of rain
striking against the pane
soothes my mind
lulls me toward sleep

watching snow sparkling
blindingly bright
the brilliance of winter
while warm behind glass

but not for today
they mock me
they torture me
showing what I can't have

sun is shining
batching as breezes blow
warm and wonderful day
and I have to see it

stuck inside
locked away
forced to see
the torment of office windows

The Two Hundred Fortieth, August 28, 2011

and have you ever noticed

that some folks love to talk

never stopping for a breath

let alone take time to listen

it seems rather ironic to me

the ones that say the least

should be listened to most

but no one seems interested

so the loud voices are heard

they are only making noise

and people begin to believe

the power of the repetition

I have heard it said before

that people turn blind eyes

I believe it is just as true

that they also turn deaf ears

logic escapes the masses

it is easier to just accept

than it is to have to think

original thoughts can hurt

it is better to be the sheep

let others make the plans

or we may actually fix it

then where would we be

The Two Hundred Thirty Ninth, August 27, 2011

time to let it flow

unleash the mind

wander make believe

exercise imagination

too much reality

cramps the style

cuts off the play

makes us be adults

where is the point

in life so sincere

we lose all sense

of childhood fun?

The Two Hundred Thirty Eighth, August 26, 2011

feet are tapping
knees are bouncing
can't sit still
need to be moving

there is sunshine
and balmy breezes
not too warm
need to be outside

was a long week
was kept too busy
feeling so tired
its finally Friday!

two days ahead
time to just recover
relax and enjoy
can hardly wait

now its finally time
out the door I go
run away screaming
FREE AT LAST!!!

time for a steak and a beer!

The Two Hundred Thirty Seventh, August 25, 2011

anxiety

cold clenching
drawing the innards
sharp claws of ice
cold seeps through
escapes in sweat
breath comes short
lungs drawn tight
shaking in the limbs
unable to move
unexplainable fear

washing through me
not letting it touch
not getting a hold
pushing through
struggling to breathe
seeking the calm
chanting a mantra
restoring confidence
difficult road ahead
hoping for the peace

The Two Hundred Thirty Sixth, August 24, 2011

darkness rises from the west
as sunlight slowly fades
the chorus of the night begins
the song as old as time

mosquitoes are out for dinner
whining sings by the ear
crickets fill the quiet spaces
with a full choral cantata

a blacker dot in the dark sky
dodging at highest speed
the bat has joined the celebration
a banquet on the wing

from a tree the question asked
who? as owls so often do

then calls the whip-poor-will
answering with his name

evening slips into full night
handing over the mantle
day closes its tired eyes in sleep
the changing of the guard

The Two Hundred Thirty Fifth, August 23, 2011

from here we see the sky
floating below our feet
as clouds like carpet fly
as we near heaven's seat

no longer are we bound
oppressed by earthly shroud
but dancing to the sound
so far above the crowd

the winds play our song
the music of our heart
it is here that we belong
with flight's ballet our art

as we ride upon the breeze
in the climb that we adore
reaching to the heavens with ease
on mighty wings we soar

there you stand so far below
looking up you think we play
it is a life you will never know
for we are the birds of prey

The Two Hundred Thirty Fourth, August 22, 2011

in the depths of my mind
there lies a cavern dark
where angels will not tread
and great mysteries reside

thoughts forlornly echo
lost from the daily world
alas what secrets mourn
ghosts wailing in despair

I know it is in this place
the answers to life hide
the meaning of existence
and where is Jimmy Hoffa

I cannot take it seriously
though others surely will
for all thoughts that entered in
may find the way out as well

until that time I must wait
and am too tired to worry
so let them be is my way
after all, I like dark caves too

The Two Hundred Thirty Third, August 21, 2011

deep quiet settles

the night is calm

a soft light glows

a circle of sunset

it is here inside

a hole in darkness

the day continues

soft still and gentle

my feet propped up

a book in my hand

glass of wine beside

prepared for relaxation

then a sudden stirring

a small black shape

slipping into my lap

and the purring begins

a time of bonding

between cat and I

as each of us forgive

the other's actions

and so the day ends

with peaceful thoughts

forgotten by morning

as the game starts again

The Two Hundred Thirty Second, August 20, 2011

mirror mirror on the wall
what a major pain you are
you keep showing truths
but I don't want those

these lines under those eyes
surely cannot belong to me
and the gray hair I see there
must be fog on the glass

your face looks so tired
as exhausted as I feel
but that cannot be me
after all, I am only 25!

oh mirror, I know that look
you do not believe what I say
you strip away the veneer
giving a cold hard reality check

I really don't like some mornings.....

The Two Hundred Thirty First, August 19, 2011

I am not silent
merely unheard
the dark private thought
behind every word

I am the truth
you do not reveal
that secret you keep
locked with cold steel

I am the lie
you've told for a while
conveniently covered
with well polished smile

I am the nightmare
causing cold sweats
haunting your sleep
and fed on regrets

I am your past
and you cannot hide
a constant companion
along for the ride

I am the unknown
that no one can see
but for those stories
that you tell of me

I am what I am
immune to all change
the ongoing story
you can't rearrange

you need to accept me
as your lessons learned
each time you laughed
as well as got burned

I am your foundation
I can be weak or strong
if you try to deny me
we won't last too long

it is your choice
on which way we go
we can climb high
we can sink low

embrace who we are
the good and the bad
but what ever you choose
I like what we've had

The Two Hundred Thirtieth, August 18, 2011

isn't that the always way?
need it done by yesterday
will tell you tomorrow
give you the tools next week

isn't that always the way?
ask you for your help
never answer questions
expect you to read minds

isn't that always the way?
tell you how to do your job
watching over your shoulder
so why did they call you?

isn't that always the way?
the sale was yesterday
we just ran out of those
that item is discontinued

isn't that always the way?
when you need it its lost
you don't want it theres tons
and its either way its your fault

isn't that always the way?

The Two Hundred Twenty Ninth, August 17, 2011

comfortable in variation
accepting of contrasts
content to be different
observing divergences

life is meant for sharing
giving of ourselves
but we need to receive
or we will not learn

let me learn who you are
and I will teach you me
and then we will obtain it
the miracle of understanding

The Two Hundred Twenty Eighth, August 16, 2011

its all those little things
that often bring smiles
making the heart light
giving the day a glow

like working it out
finding the answer
solving the big issue
without calling another

like finding the blend
of this, that and those
that gives the results
making a masterpiece

like knowing the what
even the how and why
for someone's trouble
and waiting to be asked

the greatest part though
you can share that smile
with everyone you meet
little thing becomes big

Share a smile today, make the world a better place

The Two Hundred Twenty Seventh, August 15, 2011

the world needs communicators
but we end up with just talkers
not many seem to be listening
have we heard too often before?

The Two Hundred Twenty Sixth, August 14, 2011

time to take a moment
and step outside the box
gaining new perspective
on the same old things

not needing that much
perhaps something small
like the tilt of the head
presenting a new angle

or closing one eye slowly
observing the changes
playing simple little games
keeping the process fun

the how is not important
it is the what that is key
discovering the changes
giving the chance to grow

The Two Hundred Twenty Fifth, August 13, 2011

days can change
in the blink of an eye
clouds roll on in
cover the blue sky

the day turns dark
sun fades from view
water begins to fall
rain, long over due

quick as a wink
rain has stopped too
as clouds drift away
sky is now blue

I know some people
that are just like that
changing themselves
at the drop of a hat

The Two Hundred Twenty Fourth, August 12, 2011

another exercise in futility
expecting logic to exist
seeking rational thought
in a clueless environment

constantly tripple checking
use of double standards
to single out another
as being the weakest link

some are not reflected
in the mirrors they hold
or perhaps it is the hands
holding them backwards

I accept my responsibility
the blame for my mistakes
it is part of being rational
why can't you do it too?

The Two Hundred Twenty Third, August 11, 2011

clouds drift past
floating on the blue
imagination plays
shapes come and go

the fun of the game
laying back on the grass
laughing with joy
a day of pure fun

it may be harder
to get safely down
and harder back up
age makes me slow

but always a child
not so deep within
loving the simple
keeping life fun

The Two Hundred Twenty Third

Ears Painted On

never listening
never understand
never changing
ears painted on

begging to be heard
seeking change
desperate for hope
voices cry out

ignoring reason
deaf to the truth
hiding in silence
ears painted on

loudly singing songs
filled with laughter
resounding of cheers
happy sounds live

wasting away alone
lost in private hell
never took the time
ears painted on

The Two Hundred Twenty Second, August 9, 2011

feel the thrill of it
the roller coaster
rising slowly higher
before the rapid fall

up and down again
jerking side to side
wind in the face
making eyes tear

moving so fast
lifting from the seat
slamming back down
bouncing like a ball

we end up battered
beaten and bruised
hurrying back round
waiting to ride again

if only I could be
that eager in all trials
happy for the encounter
and eager to continue

learning a life lesson
laughing through it
jumping up excited
ready to face the next

The Two Hundred Twenty First, August 8, 2011

mind does not wander
trapped within itself
unable to shift outside
prisoner of thought

walls surround me
keeping me safe within
cut off from reason
living the illusion

cannot break free
solitary confinement
holding notion captive
restricting creativity

locked away from me
as well as the rest
stagnating within
the prison in my mind

The Two Hundred Twentieth, August 7, 2011

I hear talk of global
global economy
global society
wonderful globalization

I wonder whose vision
who decides
who chooses
what if I disagree

talk of these freedoms
claimed for everyone
the right to choose
what if I choose no

why can't I be different
and cherish that
reveling in the me
rather than being you

the ego of the mind
if I wish it to be
then everyone will
defying every logic

nearly 7 billion souls
each with that right
the beauty of chaos
we are not the Borg