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Detailing delicate defecation debacle

Otherwise wordily titled: pooped out
after pouring bucketfuls of water into
place of ablutions
all the while skipping to my loo
umpteen times courtesy bathtub faucet
turned toward hot temperature
so toilet would finally,
magnificently, and royally flush.

Best Seller

"Are you reading a book?", asked Piglet.

"In a way.", said Pooh. "It's my diary. I fill it with poetry."

"Am I in it?", asked Piglet.

"Yes you are.", said Pooh with a smile.
"My friends and family are my favorite chapters."

A fool am I

Without your touch
and loving smile
your sweet embrace
and haunting eyes
a tender kiss
upon your thigh
the darkened night
moves madly by
your deepest secret
no longer mine
torn in two
a fool am I
the harvest moon
no longer shines
across the night's
forbidden sky
For you my love
were never mine
release my heart
put out the fire!

AWAKENINGS

In darkened room somnolent she lies
while high above the horned moon
cast dim shadows cross the night.

So now she sleeps.
how soft she breaths,
no movement yet, she could be dead.

But winter closes, snows thaw then flow.
Earth warms, she moves,
her time has come.

Languid, stretches limbs;
She sighs, she smiles,
another year.

She stands a tip toe a ballerina fair,
looks on her world,
bestows new life.

My Favorite Cookie

A delicious taste of the
oatmeal raisin cookie
intrigue as a favorite kind
indulge in a hungry craving
for a sweet tooth of desire
from a grandma’s baking
permeate kitchen stage
fills with emotional display
that comes with a wide
an array of special
made for a guest's visit
A cup of chocolate milk
given add to a perfect match
for the lunch snack treat
at the spending moment
It embraces the heart with joy
elated smile put on a face
a lullaby song to play

Without You

"Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass..."
~ William Wordsworth

The trees have blossoms
of pastel bangles and lace ribbons.
I am lying within the splendour in the grass,
surrounded by naive hyacinth and lily of the valley.
A yellow warbler quickens back and forth, its song
stirring the air, flirting with a jealous breeze
as the ambiance of April envelopes
me, awakening my senses.

The clouds billow along.
I am floating,
waltzing with the sun.

Still wrestling with impasse to contentment

Dispense sing with fidelity blithely agog
just me and mine dark shadow
slinking along outer limits of
the edge of night doth blog
passivity, the path
of least resistance ohm my dog,
shocking voltage amply
surges an emphatic YES,
verboten fruit adrip
with succulent juices as eggnog,

Cemetery suicide

“I dont want to die”
You say

“Im scared of death”
You say

You drone on about how you hate death and everything it brings, and why you never want to disintegrate into a heavy, cold corpse.

But you rot every day.

Spectres release

I sought earnestly,
to speak with the dead.
To put an end to the hell
existing only in their head.
To conjure spectres
at night in their dread.
The ghostly images,
of light down the hall
would gather round
to answer my call.
Then venture forth
out into the night
and visit their graves
until first breaking light.
Released from their torment
here on the earth
ready to pass
from this life into rebirth!

Rhubarb Pie

sometimes i think i have too much ambition.
i just can’t help wanting it all with you:

the garden in the backyard,
dirt stains on your jeans from kneeling in the dirt,
homegrown rhubarb pie cooling in our kitchen.

the coffee table photo album
with polaroids from a hundred different places;
france, germany, new york, and maine .

a big old tree for us to lay under,
soft grass to cushion our heads
and a sea of stars for us to admire.

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