11/3/11

It's fair for us to not believe,
It's valid for us not to trust,
And yet, though broken and bereaved,
To persevere, somehow we must.
11/2/11

When have our lives transformed and grown,
To such a frantic state,
That quiet nights we spend at home
Are cause to celebrate?
11/1/11

Tonight, there is an unplanned holiday,
The hearth's hot fires crackle, hiss and roar,
Delectables are laid out on display,
As fragrant wine and bubbling champagne pour.
The sounds of mirth and laughter fill the night,
As soothing, fluid, music gently sings.
Tonight, the winter blackout stole our lights,
But here together we shall live as kings.
10/31/11

A strangeness fills the air tonight,
As moonlight sparkles early snow.
Apart from all expected frights,
A disconcerting feeling grows,
As if a witches curse was cast
To ice the skies and freeze the leaves.
This Halloween seems all but passed,
As if we stand on Christmas Eve.
10/30/11

The skeletons untethered from their strings,
Are gathered up and swiftly packed away,
Become abeyant, harmless, lifeless things,
Possessed by neither terror nor dismay.
The witches rest. The lycanthropes transform,
Back into human shapes and slink away,
The undead flee from mundane, daily norms.
And ghosts retreat from coming light of day.
We say good-bye to all our giddy frights.
And put aside our silly childlike fears.
We shrink the shadow's stretch, we raise the lights,
And don the costumes we must wear all year.
10/29/11

There were to be terrors,
There were to be spooks,
But due to bad weather,
A snow-falling fluke,
Our haunting was hapless,
Yet, oddly rang true.
Like ghosts, we were witnessed,
By only a few
10/28/11

Chilly, in the night air,
After three AM,
Silly, on the back stairs,
Giggled two best friends.
All their plotting finished,
All their plans in place,
Energies diminished,
Yet their spirits raced,
With the expectation,
Of the coming day.
Jovial elation,
Of two fools at play.
10/27/11

From midnight shadows into morning light,
I creep about, and forge ahead despite,
My tired bloodshot eyes and weary limbs,
So much to do before the day begins.
The sunlit hours shall suffice for most,
But here I haunt and wander like a ghost,
For I have promises I need to keep,
And dreams to carry out before I sleep.
.
10/26/11

The meeting that never was,
The victims of fate and chance,
Postponed and delayed because,
Of randomized circumstance.
Some people are meant as friends,
In destined trajectories,
But as the road winds and bends,
Some share only mystery.
10/25/11

The mother of invention is stark panic and distress.
The catalyst of tension almost guarantees success.
Perhaps inside these trying moments genius is revealed,  
Which shows why most are satisfied with concepts they may steal.
10/24/11

The flashing patterns call our names,
The rapid chatter draws us close
Like flicker from a heatless flame,
And souls of electronic ghosts.
Who live out stories never lived,
Distracting us from troubled lives,
We float, awash in images,  
And saved by angels, televised.
10/23/11

It does not do to hate the world for what cannot be ours,
To rage against our fates and curse all wants beyond our powers.
It serves not, to resent the life which others have and hold.
Instead, we must invent our own new story to unfold.
10/22/11

Dreams are rains that gently feed,
And beckon flowers from the ground,
But sometimes form to storms of need,
And floods in which all else is drowned.
10/21/11

The telephone, an instrument of wonder and despair,
Allowing us to live out our existence from afar,
Directing change in drastic ways when you're not even there.
Then drawing and distracting your attention when you are.
10/20/11

The leaper falls, so having missed,
The far, adjacent precipice,
And landing short to dance the air,
He rides a chasm of despair.
But as he ponders his descent,
Perhaps he finds enlightenment-
A wisdom rare and only found,
Beneath great heights upon the ground.
10/19/11

We often find it hard accepting gifts that we receive.
Such acts of simple kindness leave us flustered and unnerved.
So seldom are our hearts expecting generosity,
That, in our modest blindness, we assume it's undeserved.
10/18/11

One of them said what he'd do,
One of them said what he'd done.
But when the arguments were through,
We trusted neither one.
10/17/11

The world would be a better place. On this, we're all agreed.
Yet, to this end, I often fear the lengths that people go.
Perhaps the world would be a better place to dwell, indeed,
If we would not take such great pains to try and make it so.
10/16/11

Some claim arriving late is very rude,
A careless, thoughtless act of indolence,
A crass and disregardful attitude.
Yet, I would venture that the worse offense,
Occurs when one is strictly so inclined,
To planning perfect, punctuality.
That they arrive, instead, ahead of time.
The late, at least, may garner sympathy,
For what misfortunes and adverse events,
Conspired to restrict them in their gait.
An early caller claims no such defense,
Implying that you were not worth the wait.
10/15/11

Wraiths and fiendish ghouls descend,
May attic stair- it's time again,
For wicked creatures, seldom seen,
To walk the earth on Halloween.
The skeletons, the living dead,
And several disembodied heads,
Awaken from their cardboard crypts,
To revel in mischievousness
One by one, they slowly rise,
From yearly slumber to reprise,
Their roles of terror, shock and fright,
Which feed our morbid, dark, delight.
Release all creatures from their tombs,
All-Hallow's-Eve approaches soon!
10/14/11

Hope is lilting lullaby,
That sings our fears to sleep,
To guard our dreams with lidded eyes,
Despite the light of day.
Yet, Hope, in time, may be denied,
Desires we may keep,
And so, sometimes we must decide,
To alter its refrain.
10/13/11

Some choose to enter politics perusing quick financial gain,
While others enter deep debates in search of social rise and fame,
Some may extoll grand moral goals and speak of dreams they plan to chase,
But most trip on their own two feet and hit the soapbox with their face.
10/12/11

The pronoun we is never I,
To call it such is just a lie,
For all things shared, it should be we,
Both in defeat and victory.
10/11/11

How many factious clashes and dissent,
How many arguments that must be fought,
How many meetings makes a monument,
How many minds must merge to form a thought?
10/10/11

Our life in three dimensions is a test of skill and wit,
Our inner eyes will often lie for limits and restraints,
The only way to sometimes ascertain a thing will fit,
Is measurement to our best guess, and praying to the saints.
10/9/11

Houses are like canvases we paint across the years,
Upon these arks, we shall impart our varied inks and stains,
Shaded by the colors of our lifelong hopes and fears,
And ornamented by aesthetic strokes of joy and pain.
10/8/11

What better moments to remind,
How fortunate we are,
Than time we take to rest, recline,
And gaze up at the stars.
At times we envy wealth and fame,
Yet now, it's hard to see,
Who else on earth that we might name,
Is luckier than we.
10/7/11

An unexpected change of standing plans,
May seem at first an inconvenient thing,
But altering ones course from where it stands.
Is valued for the promise that it brings.
While fine to have our expectations met,
And realize our visions seen in deed,
Our regimented minds must not forget,
What inspiration comes of being freed.
10/6/11

A quiet time at work,
A welcome spot of rest,
A squandered day to hide and shirk,
Daydreaming at my desk.
10/5/11

Sadness is a hairline crack,
Eroding in the soul,
A tiny thought, a minor fact,
That grows into a hole.
It's seldom pressure from outside,
That forms this cavity.
More often, it's a force of pride,
Abutting destiny.
10/4/11

When one leaves home they are themselves,
For nothing stands to alter them.
Their routine life shows someone else-
A false appearance they pretend.
But does conformance, day to day,
Definine our minds and shape our souls,
Or is it when we step away,
That we assume  our own true roles?
We're, all of us, chamelions,
Who let the darkness pale our skins,
Then change our shading in the sun.
Are such disguises worn within?
Which life is real, which one untrue?
Does truth discern between the two?

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