9/15/11

All morning meetings set to start at eight
Are no doubt scheduled by a beast from hell,
All other groups conveneing sanely late,
Will surely settle matters just as well.
No tangible advantage is obtained,
Conscripting the exhausted out of bed,
Except resentfull thoughts and  mental strain,
Ensuring none remember what was said.
9/14/11

There are some days where nothing works at all,
It makes no difference how hard one may try,
Each new initiative will fail and stall,
With no result as hours fritter by.
Each impetus is rendered impotent,
All giving leaves the world with something less,
Our final course must be abandonment.
And claiming that we simply tried our best.
9/13/11

A pleasant visit to our home,
A night to chat of life, and art,
A fleeting chance we may atone,
For spans we have been far apart.
An evening to enrich our souls,
Before our days are spent again,
Engrossed with those we barely know,
While reminiscing of our friends.
9/12/11

A celebration to announce the relocation of a friend,
A last occasion marked and measured from the day he must depart.
How many farewell dinners have I had the honor to attend?
How many more, without announcement of such endings, broke my heart?
9/11/11

No poetry describes a sense of loss,
When true acuity can't be conveyed.
No weighty words can balance out the cost,
That comes of what is gone and can't return.
Time is the only scribe that speaks a verse,
Which calms the horror of a heart that aches.
It's meter, measuring the pain at first,
Becomes our story as we slowly learn.
9/10/11

A yard sale is an odd event, by which a life is known,
A portal into someone's soul, their past upon display.
Yet, all they love and cherish is not gleaned by what they own,
But, rather by discarded things they choose to give away.
9/9/11

Enchanted in a darkened space, all eyes upon a canvas sheet,
That glows emotion, showing drama, sorrow, love and comedy.
And tells us stories of a people who we'll never chance to meet.
While right beside us, those with stories just as fair, sit silently.
9/8/11

An injury shall never heal the way we might expect,
But lingers as a lasting patch of vulnerability.
When wounds subside we must abide their phantom-like effects.
Incorporating all their reoccurring misery.
For as a laceration seals, it leaves a telling scar,
A record of the sad event. A lasting signature.
And every suffered harm that heals will add to who we are,
Each jagged line defining us like maps of where we were.
9/7/11

It is a clever man,
Who says a clever thing,
So everyone in earshot will bear witness as he sings.
However, 'tis a man,
Who's far more clever still,
That will ignore the man before, and follow his own will.
9/6/11

The teeth are like a record of the life that we have led,
For all along their marred and pitted surface they contain,
The evidence of how our bodies are maintained and fed,
Each vice betrayed by every altered shade and subtle stain.
Such evidence, we may attempt to brush and polish clean,
But expert eyes identify indulgence, binge and sin.
Still, it would seem, that those with teeth, perhaps not quite pristine,
Will tend to be, despite these flaws, those who most often grin.
9/5/11

A task achieved, may seem to be,
A simple, minor, job resolved.
Yet, essence of humanity,
Is seen at work -a thought evolved,
From spark to grand accomplishment,
Denied existence heretofore.
Remember this, next hour spent,
Performing some unpleasant chore.
9/4/11

A lazy day allowed to slip between the solid lines,
Which form our grid-locked schedules kept in little rigid squares,
Forgotten hours, left to melt, unplanned and unassigned.
A waking dream, serene and free of motive, cause or care.
9/3/11

The air is crisp. No buzzing bites annoy.
Beneath a breezy, clear, black, starry sky.
The crickets sing for us as we enjoy,
A feast of corn, grilled fish, and homemade pie.
The calming fire mingles warmth and light,
Between the happy laughter shared by friends.
At last, a perfect, restful summer night,
That falls upon this day the summer ends.
9/2/11

How often deadlines set in stone,
Are proven false and flexible.
We each have time-lines of our own.
Most plans adhere, some never will.
The earth should stall upon it's spool,
And sunshine never rise again,
If not for bending of the rules,
And hard, fast, stops let to extend.
9/1/11

A home is like a holiday,
That one looks toward every night,
A miniature getaway,
Of relaxation and respite.
A few short hours to recline,
Before life's pressures reconvene.
A silent fall twixt beats of time.
The truth we live out in-between.
8/31/11

At times the friendship we may seek,
And calming comforts we may crave,
Come not from camaraderie.
Instead we find our souls are saved,
By kindness welling from within,
That comes to us if we allow.
My challenge to this end has been,
The complex task of learning how.
8/30/11

The fabric softener of the dead,
Was brought into our home today,
Its fragrance filled my heart with dread,
But as time passes, this bouquet,
Has comforted and recollects,
A loved one's presence by their scent.
How strange to find our daily dress,
Become an honored monument.
8/29/11



The skies are clear. The clouds have passed,
We clean and carefully assess.
And stumble through the aftermath,
To reassemble from distress,
The pieces which were pulled and torn,
Now disconnected from our lives.
We count the damage from the storm,
And thank the lord for what survives.
8/28/11

We wake to sounds of pounding rain,
And howling winds beyond our walls,
That make our shelter creak and strain,
As nature's unchecked fury falls.
The giants of the unseen heights,
Above the clouded canopy,
Decend for violent, crazed delights,
And godlike games of anarchy.
Beneath the turmoil of the air,
We strive to gain some small control,
But as the tumults toss and tear,
Despite our efforts, we must know,
That we, the helpless wriggling prey,
Of some great beast that has us caught,
Through slap and batter, pounce and play,
Must suffer what the fates have wrought.
8/27/11

We watch the mountain as it fades from view,
And vanishes behind a veil of grey,
The sky assumes a dark, opressive hue,
As, prematurely, night obscures the day.
All movement 'neath the ground, songs of the trees,
All living things that scurry, scratch and crawl,
Are silent as a pause in eulogy,
Awaiting, timidly, the hammer's fall.
8/26/11

A storm approaches nigh and we,
Must scramble fast. So woefully,
Unready for the raging winds,
That that rise and gather into force.
All must be tied, weighed down and stowed,
Before the blasting currents blow,
Before the pounding rain begins,
Throughout the tempest's deadly course.
8/25/11

Prior planning may not always help you in the end,
But it will, most certainly, improve relationships,
Easing burdens on coworkers, family and close friends-
Those who extricate you from your unpreparedness.
8/24/11

Little else but competition
May compare for ugliness,
Jealousy and cold ambition,
Skew the rules of every test.
Simple kindness takes the wayside,
To excel at any cost,
Souls are bartered, morals shanghaied,
All to thwart the fear of loss.
8/23/11

I'd like to have the hours back,
The moments wasted yesterday,
Erase my patience and retract,
My concentrations poorly used.
Yet what is gone won't be redeemed,
We can't reclaim time cast away,
But carry on, forget and dream,
And live tomorrow as we choose.
8/22/11

A spouse is one with which to dream,
To plan and build with great resolve,
For through our love we are cajoled,
To strive and venture unafraid.
A spouse is one with which to scheme,
And think of ways to fix and solve,
The problems caused by all the holes,
Our mutual ambition made.
To trip and stumble to the floor,
Is much less fearful, come to find,
Your foolish falls accompanied,
With each unwary step you take.
A spouse is one whom you adore,
As partner in each heedless crime,
To face life's fortunes carelessly,
And laugh through every new mistake.
8/21/11

A painted room may seem mundane,
A necessary thing.
To help conceal the cracks and peels revealed when walls are bare.
And yet,it is not proud and vain,
To add such coloring,
But, our expression of affections felt when we are there.
8/20/11

A paradise is made of will,
Not afterlife or nature's hand
All visions shall become fulfilled,
By what we know and understand.
Is beauty by itself inspired,
Or else, reflected by the soul?
The incantations of desire,
Invoke most magic we may know.
8/19/11

A song plays out it's melody,
And as we follow with the tune,
We may forget reality,
As swelling notes call hearts to swoon,
This sweet companion, like a friend,
May comfort us and take us in,
Yet, soon each tune runs to its end,
So other music may begin.
8/18/11

My eyes shift from the watch's hands,
Upon my work and back again,
As swiftly I address demands,
With deft and nimble acumen.
My heart leaps for each problem solved,
Hopes soar with every task consigned,
If I can get enough resolved
Just once I may get home on time.
8/17/11

Flowers on the guardrail of a parkway running south,
Left there by a mourner who would wish the world to know,
Here the final breath of life ecaped a loved one's mouth,
On this spot a mortal soul surrendered and let go.
See her picture, as I pass in seconds, blurring by,
All she was, and did, and fealt, a glimpse that cannot last.
It would seem each memory is likewise in our minds,
Lives recalled in fleeting, fading, points as we rush past.
8/16/11

Some words you may articulate,
Repeated several times,
May seem a valid point to make,
Insightful and defined.
Yet, if you rail and rant them,
No matter what they mean,
Words sound just like a tantrum,
An adolescent scream.
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