12/17/11
We hit the ground running
And sprint without stopping
In last minute cunning,
And marathon shopping.
As time's adversaries,
We plan celebration,
For none may make merry,
Without preparation.
12/14/11
A year of long planning shall end tonight,
The hour resolves our worried wait.
The realization of our foresight,
All hopes and all fears shall culminate,
This one moment holding all potency,
Contained in the instant of a wish.
Although there's no knowing of what will be,
For better or worse it has come to this.
12/9/11
We may worry all we wish,
We may wring our hands and fret,
But reality is this,
And what hasn't happened yet,
Will transpire as it will,
Though we wait with tortured souls,
We will never know until,
Future hours chime and toll.
'tis far better to reflect,
On the best of all that's been,
Than to painfully expect,
What is still yet to begin.
We may meddle to no end,
We may writhe in agony,
But for all we may pretend,
Nothing changes what will be.
12/8/11
The earth is angry 'neath it's shifting soil,
It's heat is seeping through rough broken seams,
Releasing clashing forces long embroiled,
In elemental pressures, belching steam.
The billowing of gasses to the sky,
Will tell us of a fury forged below.
The passions of creation never die,
And shall provide a shrine where we might go,
To be reminded of our fragile place,
Where, for the moment, we're allowed to be,
And live upon this skin by nature's grace,
As masters, only of fortuity.
12/6/11
As I was floating aimless in the ocean tides,
Between the windswept surface swells and teeming reefs,
An aged passing turtle happened swimming by,
While crossing through the endless waterways beneath.
He fanned his flipper limbs and turned about to see.
Through curious black eyes, he gently set his gaze,
Upon this strange invading, abnormality
Who's home did not belong at all beneath the waves.
This chance encounter, intimate yet far away,
Like somehow reaching through a wall of solid glass,
Connection, precious, but not ever meant to stay,
Two oceans overlapping as the currents pass.
12/5/11
I met a man who lived in paradise,
And on a simple whim I asked him this,
What place on earth could possibly entice,
More than his own abode, what would he wish?
Where would he choose to go if he could fly?
What other vistas might he long to see?
And so this lucky, lonely man replied,
That he would visit friends and family.
11/30/11
Not enough hours throughout the day,
To manage all matters which must be done.
No measured span that can fast allay,
Assignments which hemorrhage as dies the sun.
No ample planning or strategy,
Shall render this randomness organized.
Yet, all this chaos may set us free,
While casting ambition out from our lives.
11/29/11
The anchor man who held the rope,
Within a bitter tug of war,
He stood his ground and strained and coped.
Where others weakened he gave more.
As one by one his team withdrew,
And selfishly released their grasp,
His perseverance carried through,
His might increased, until at last,
The anchor was victorious,
The other team at last succumbed.
The winners cheered, uproarious,
Though thanks belonged to only one:
The man who wondered quietly,
At how his arms had scarred and grown,
And how his fond society,
Had left him strongest, yet alone.
11/28/11
There was a little girl,
Who wanted nothing more,
But to appear to all the world,
As those she'd seen before.
She craved a grown up life,
And things that grown-up's own,
To be a mother and a wife,
And have a fancy home.
Despite all she achieved,
She never really grew,
It isn't what you have, you see,
It's all in what you do:
Like being fair and just,
Not arrogant and vain,
And being someone you can trust,
With both one's joy and pain.
That's how adults behave,
Through kindnesses they choose,
So, still she stands, small and afraid,
Dressed in her mother's shoes.
11/27/11
The true solution we so often find,
That yields the precious answers we may seek,
Is simply disregarded at one time,
And overlooked- our vision incomplete.
Any yet when outside circumstances change,
We find ourselves returning back again,
Our preconceptions are at last estranged,
And starting over, we achieve our ends.
11/26/11
Hotel rooms are haunted places,
Hotel rooms are haunted places,
Cursed as travelers come and go,
Seeping stains upon these spaces,
By the weeping of their souls.
Sadness soiled in the carpets,
Happiness caught in the drapes,
Places tainted by quick respites,
Passions born of love and hate.
Time blows through, thoughts fogged and clouded,
Lives roam in and out like wraiths,
In such rooms so marred and crowded,
Should we not pay lower rates?
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