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Don't waste time,
On holding grudges.
Always make sure to add,
the finishing touches.

Say you're sorry,
When you should.
If you make a bleep,
Knock on wood.

Let go of things,
You can't change.
Stay clear from things,
That are pre-arranged.

If at all possible.
Think before you react,
Be responsible.

Your darkest hour,
Can be the brightest light.
Never give up,
Without a fight.


Reading our books in bed in the early evening
You, a favorite murder mystery
I think you’ve read three or four times
Me, another damn poetry book

Together, we hear a forlorn cry
from one of our sleeping dogs. It was high pitched
So, it must have been from our little guy

We check them both to be sure they are okay
And they are. He probably had a bad dream
You wonder why our little brown fella
felt so sorrowful in his dream
and fret about what you can do
to keep him from being that despondent again


I write poems
so as to give life to the words.

With a beautiful red silk
I tie a bow
on each one’s neck.

As I’m holding them into my fist,
they seem like spring butterflies.
They start to fly,
wandering happily into my room.

Every time, I see a swarm of them above my page,
I am so grateful.

Grateful to see them hovering around,
telling me how different this world would be,


Tinnitus chants more
music through doorways,
drafting feathers
distort the ear spine,
shaping uproars,
shifting the sand-
castles where silence
cradles wordlessness.


Can you;
find beauty in things not pleasant to the eyes?
Can you;
be nice to people you don't recognize?

Can you;
find sunshine, on a rainy day?
Can you;
remain silent when you have things to say?

Can you;
fight when you're tired to the bone?
Can you;
call it quits, leave well enough alone?

Can you;
be ok, in the lonely moments?
Can you;
stay strong in the midst of disappointments?


The trail leads gently up
and through the stand of trees
The day is chilled by autumnal winds
just in from the coast

I contemplate the desperation of the falling leaves
as they wander about in the bracing air
Carried by the breeze to where they will lie
And I wonder: “Are they bitter?”

Or do they accept their fate
as the annual benediction
of having served their purpose
reflected in the colors of the season?

power off

….you have programmed your final day under the sun:

your body dissolves,
graced in sheets of flowers,
succumed to the grass that touches your back side.
you lie inside an abandoned home,
vines and moss cover the cement and bricks.
the flower of life subverted into this once natural structure.

the sun’s rays flash through the trees,
through the absent roof, the home claimed by nature.
it lowers down, calmly.
seeping into your skin, through your blood, through the rest of you.
she is ready to prepare your eternal bedding.


Another crumb, another day.
One more slice another year
as one by one time slips away
with loss of the ones I hold dear.

Until there's little left to chew
and few loaves left from times gone by.
Too soon the losses are nothing new
matters not the tears we cry.

Some loaves get toasted by fast living
others stay white from lives lived cold.
then some are cut too short by giving
better that than green from mold.


The religious zealots say,
they will pray for us,
They look down their nose,
at us with disgust.

They say repent;
we are an abomination,
We are headed straight
to hell fire and damnation.

They scream we offend them,
and their religion,
It is none of their business;
not their decision.

Eighty percent of churches,
condemn homosexuality,
They explain it’s a sin,
and say it is an abnormality.

Random Challenge [The Reason I Exist] - Ornate Girl

I stand bejeweled, with feathers in my hair,
A pretty girl, in a pretty world.
But I’m not pretty enough.
I’m the ghost by the door, hiding in the walls,
The glass ornament on the mantel,
The ornate dish, a holder for what they truly want.
I bury my head beneath the sands.
I do it as best I can.
But I’m not perfect enough.
So I cower under embellished fabrics.
My voice stays as silent as if it did not exist.
The colors of the world are seeping away.
The ocean, the sky have turned grey.


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