Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Monday, August 28, 2006

Love Poem 0.1

Let me paint you a picture.
Let me paint your sky.

We can be innocent.
We can by shy.

We live like the wheat stalks.
Ripe green-then dry.

We can live simple.
Untill the goodbye.

We can live richly.
Untill we die.

I'm not afraid.
I don't really care.

If we're there for each other.
We can live off the air.

If we're there for each other.
We can live anywhere.

You are my love,
my darling affair.

You are my love,
my constant prayer.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Very impressed with the capable and stylish manner in which you dealt with that situation.

I apologize from the beginning,
for this poem's rather unbefitting

Head tilted in shrugging.
Eyebrows in question.
Your character sparkling,
not lacking gumption.

Your dresses all are fancy black.
You know they sing, paint it black.
(Put one on and-)
Dance! To timeless melodies,
oldies music with "Love you France!"

Captivating poise and laugh,
Thought full, amused, an intense paraph.

Norma Jeane awe and Siciliy.
You'll visit the latter with bold reverie.

Oh blue eyed, blonde, Miss american pie,
You're a charming lady, take care, goodbye.


These are the old days-
the drumming days,
soaked with fear.

Photographic white curtains,
outline dark clothed villains,
who's intentions are clear.

Legions of shadows-
descend between marrows,
brightening the mornings each year.

But not today,
not so anymore.

For the glory of smoke-
like a sickening joke,
is realization of life so dear.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Little Church by Donovan

If you want your dream to be,
take your time go slowly.
Do few things but do them well,
heartfelt work grows purely.
If you want to live life free,
take your time go slowly.
Do few things but do them well,
heartfelt work grows purely.

Day by day,
stone by stone,
build your secret slowly.
Day by day,
you'll grow too,
you'll know heavens glory.

On shore

Stark beauty clashes with ocean serene,
a young girl cries while waters careen.
Her kness to her chin wrinkling her dress,
she sits ankle-deep in sands, a mess.

Oh twisted world! Colors bright.
Red green yellow distorted sight.

Thinking, crowds this silk covered soul,
Sobbing quietly while droplets unroll,

Don't cry for me-
tears glisten and shine.
Your face is soft,
a freckled sunshine.

Black mascara,
red tipped lips,
innocent eyes,
search lonely ships.

Pretty. Wild. Raven hair!
-or perhaps its golden fair?

Seagulls mumble on white crest,
dont bother her, let her rest.
Salty spray and coming night,
gaze upon peach ripe moonlight.

A bark strewn beach,
white waves crash on.
An old letter leash,
a sad lover yawns.

Sink. Close your eyes,
the tide's pulling out.
Dreams are allies,
forever devout.

Glass bells will ring in ballroom walls!
Pianos playing outside coral halls.
The orchestra booms,
the notes drift and wait.
Bridegroom-you'd have been,
and I your first mate.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Silently Abandoned

I laugh
I cry
I scramble and sigh

This whole past year
darkness did rear
its overwhelming presence
right into my essence

feeding off my own soul
not knowing the toll
not knowing how I'd survive
or where I'd arrive

The darkness surrounds, below and above
I mumble and search, but I can't find the love

-Written May 28 2005

Friday, August 18, 2006

Always something.

Nuances are always
everything or nothing.

You should look for them always,
don't be aiming at nothing.

A head nod sideways,
a voice tone failing.

A glance upraised,
a silent chuckling.

Flatter and flirt,
grinning and blushing.

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Sinfull in the eyes of our Lord.

God bless the kittens, dying of disease.
God bless all children, crying with please.

We all are tired, ready to stop.
Some of us don't know yet,
still on the rooftop.

God bless the broken down, old man.
God rest his mind from crusty bedpan.

How we grow old, painfully aware
our young vigor bodies, loose their flair.

God bless the poor, the hungry, confused.
The oppressed, depressed, angry, abused.

Bless us all-for we all are small.

Saturday, August 12, 2006

To the idea of my Grandad


I have no power over your soul or how it rests, I wish we could have met, I wish you could have commanded my awe and respect. You are gone. A victim of disease. It is foolish to say I revere a ghost that exists no more. But I do, and I appreciate all you have done for me and my family. With a heavy heart I have to acknowledge that I probably will never meet you.
1. Never tell everything at once.
- Ken Venturi

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Ode to misty Autumn Groundhog

anything but mundane
simplicity at its finest

gliding and soaring on this feeling
desperately keep this going

come up from my hole
the music was true!
the sun is here!
my shadows gone!
my love is near.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Nurturing Hands

Voluntary caretaker
guarding my condition
the stakes would grow higher
with health falling in fashion

You punctured and poked
apologizing in smiles
I anxiously joked
forgiving with styles

I appreciated the subtle love
(so obvious at times)
I owe a great deal to your gentleness
(indeed I was spoiled)
I am indebted to such polite manner
(and I know)
With a little help from above
(I'm sure)
If you'll forgive my bluntess
You defeated my cancer.