Off the top of my head
I’ve plucked thoughts of laundry
dinner and love
how one is never done
one must always be planned
and one is never mine
at least not
to my exact specifications
and how all of them
begin with something clean
a cloth a pan a heart
and end up stained
dirty broken or burnt
and I am left to (with some trepidation)
try to get what’s dirty
clean again
liturature
Cheers
Drinking Red Bull and Jäger
in a barroom where
broken promises and hearts mingle
with slurred words; distortions
and the beat of glass striking tabletops
instead of tears
an “upper downer” so to speak
that in its own strange way
helps me to take it all in
acceptance that tomorrow
is just another of the very same
day
Slumber
The frozen tears of winter fall
as white from clouds of gray
and coat the sleeping forest paths
before the break of day
A contrast ‘twixt the glistening bright
and trees to which it clings
give stark reminder of this life
and sadness that it brings
But in the silence of the wood
let not your heart despair
for not in death, but only sleep
does joy yet still breathe there
Thank you Maya
For reminding me that I am, above all, a poet and that even if my words are my own and never touch the hearts, minds and souls of anyone, that I am living authentically when I put pen to paper and set my soul free…
Mind Over
You serve as inspiration in the best
worst way
My muse, sweet pain
Your lips
embers that ignite what another could never
Life and death wrapped in a caramel kiss
Be mine be mine be mine I beg
Despite my pleas, you fly…
Mind over says to let you go
History says you’ll return again
Where my heart awaits
Ever the Fool
To open the door
Golifely 