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WHAT I CALL LOVE

The profound and caring
the strong affection
the feeling of intense
the object of one’s liking
it’s something extreme
Something indefinable.

A term of friendship
A desire for life partner
It’s infatuation
It’s exceptional
It’s adorable
And I call it LOVE.

Love is when you met someone
Look him in the face speechlessly
Feel changes in heart turns around
And walk away.

My Garden

I walked into my garden today
There you were, I said go away
Why you asked of me, "Can’t I stay?
"It is not your time to visit my home.

I have been to your home I know,
that was so you would not be alone.
There staring from your window so
It was the tears I helped you let go.

This garden of mine will be here,
when shadows greet winters cool
It is but a tool of eternity, can’t you see?
I tend it so, that you can walk with me.

YANKEE STADIUM 1958

I remember the gritty dark
Corridors and sticky floors
In the old stadium
On the steaming summer day
The smell of beer and sweat
Smoked beef and urine
Mustard and french fries

Holding my father’s hand
Up the stairs to the portal opening
To the sudden view of the field below
With its wide green carpet of grass
And the combed rust colored clay
With perfect powdered lines and bases
What I had only known through
Black and white on the small screen
In the cluttered living room

A New Zealand Journey

I couldn’t hold those ones I knew
there I had to fly northward true
a beach laid out as our stories tell
its course I ran to a place I knew well.

Making haste gathering thoughts
did I know of things gone by
where I should have listened
not made someone cry?

Then other things came to me
As on I flew just by the sea
of a love I had and was so true
then the tear I had, as it was you.

In the arms of folly ::SWAY

There are far too many
idealistic folks
who only speak
and poke
okay joke

This world is racing
at a fast speed
so total greed
is overcoming
power
is storming
like a tsunami

Why the hell
will I not be first only
blast the rest
you may
I am the man
of TODAY

So to you friend
I pray
lose your fantastic
idealistic way
you may
MAY not today

MY HEART A MINION TO YOUR HEART

The atmosphere was ideal.
Your gentle caress made my heart to reel,
as your lips on mine turned me on,
underneath that shimmering moon.

Then entombed I was in a pleasure,
beyond the value of any treasure,
that made my heart with ardor to overflow,
and my without with radiance to glow.

Folks now no more wonder,
why to you I always run for shelter,
from the wreckages of loneliness in a haste,
for that rare warmth of yours to taste.

HAVE YOU EVER

Have you ever seen a light
Streaking through the sky
Imagined it was someone’s life
That just came streaming by

And when the light had faded
Did it make you question why
We were put, on this earth
And then left here to die

Did you ever see a lightning strike
Felt the tremors from its thunder
Imagined it had pierced a heart
And ripped it all asunder

For such a force to manifest
Did it set your mind to wonder
Was our life here, meant to be
Or was it, just a blunder

PAIN OF REBIRTH

And a time of madness came to be
when hatred dominated men
who set the dire war dogs free
whose howls echoes through forest and fen.

Those howls drove reason from men's minds
turned brothers against one another
severing any tie that binds
even that of child and mother.

The age of false prophets arose
in each religion, every belief system
they deemed themselves the one true rose
labeling all others "them"

One More Time... As Autumn Nears/contest.

The Autumn air is washed and faded
Leftover days from a month ago
Still sunny, but much cooler

The birds that herald morning subdued
Intent on making a living
Nature's bounty grown slim

Chattered warnings like “Morse Code”
Squirrel-talk warning each other
And the deer

The smell of wet dog
Her panting breath painted gray
Excited and alert

Arrrooooo, Arrroooo, arrrooo
Bring it around, Dancer
Show me what you found

Just poetry only

Your poetry is like sugar
leaves
in autumn trees
okay leaves
no need to crush them
for the sweet fragrance
is passing extinction

you are a poet of class indeed
in the list of best many poems
when will we achieve or attain
such a moment
of holding hands
in the Garden of Roses
where I hope to be, one
sought after by everyone

a blue bird of narcissism
an egoist poet
off the cuff in the desert

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