.
a brouhaha's a'brewin'
may I intrude?
i've nothing to offer
'cept fuel to the feud
but, I enjoy a good fight
(maybe more than is cool)
even when all come out
looking like fools

A Patient Time

A time for waiting,a hibernation
Before we follow through on dreams
Careful planning,with determination
Putting away halfed baked schemes
No day or night is ever wasted
Patience builds slowly day by day
The fruit of forbearance is soon tasted
Sweet as honey where we lay
Suddenly we are engaged in life
Our souls’desire reaches out
And wraps its lasso around the moment
Discarding all our useless doubts

Grief Has No Hold

I will not keep you behind an iron gate
But will unlock my soul to accept the beauty
Of the dawn and ascending road
Invisible as the path may be
I will feel my way through
With head held high and shoulders straight
For there is more light than shadow
Hope is more prevalent than fear
I will remember more songs than weeping
And the joy that comes after a long battle

Reigning In The Shadows

Sometimes doubts and fears arise
As the shadows of life grow longer
Pity and fear,the light does despise
For the light makes souls stronger
We flounder in the shadows path
Lost in our own dark night
For the darkness later shows it's wrath
Clear within our sight
But the light soon reigns in the dark
And brings us faith,and hope
The dawning light provides the spark
To erase the shadows and help us cope

The Eternal Artist(For My Brother Patrick)

Time no longer holds you in its’ hands
You are free from the burdens of an ordinary man
Ethereal beings guide you to the artists’ den
All of heaven and earth is your canvas now
Beckoning you to to capture clouds and angels wings
To observe and record the changing scene
Capturing birds in flight soaring through a breeze
Vibrant colors spill from the brush in your hand
At last you have shed the confinements of a mortal man

Lack Of Humour

The remorse
I confront with
While coming across
The cross section of crass society
Is the lack of humour?
In many,
Though most.

We take a crack
At our own free will
But hate it
When our whiskers
Someone does till.

* not good enough to stream

I have been here as long as man
rooted in his reptile brain
always present, never sleeping
cold and calculating
immoral? amoral?
no difference

You first saw me on the playground
in the eyes of the bully
who'd knocked you down
then laughed

As acquaintances grow older
I am better hidden
yet still I remain
at the bank
..the IRS
..the bargaining table
..in an ex-lover's look

This could be our poetic exedra

I write for the same reason any other writer writes;
without expecting to be understood nor appreciated.
The only thing I shall ask of you, Gentle Reader, is to read -
faithfully, with biases laid aside, allowing the words
to work their purpose...

This, I believe is the beginning of the enviable relationship
between the Reader and their Writer...

"How To Read A Poem"
by Judith Kitchen

Threshold of Time
Reminiscing at the threshold of time
Perceiving in the mirror,
Over one’s shoulder
The many decades lapsed
In the tomb one surfaces
From its very womb
We now know
Man is never born alone
Nor can one live or die,
It’s true
Time alone does sprint by.

Two lives in consonance,
Each donate a chromosome,
Y or X
To merge with the other’s X alone,
DNA combines and conjoins
To create a human
One can ever rarely define.

If only

You were a wee bit unattached
And I slightly different,
I would’ve welded
To all that is magnificent,
As you are the lion,
I the meekest lamb