head on a pillow

some days I wish not to rise

but then I think of those
who have neither a bed
or cove to rest their heads
and sleep

the day begins the sun rises

from the east
and the clouds will hover
trees will dance in the wind
birds will use them as fodder

today my head shall lift

give praise that my eyes
did open to witness a new day
I shall walk to find someone
to give a pillow away

smile

The day is well

 if there’s a smile

  before you’d walk a block

 now it’s a mile

 so when you walk away

you need not turn around

for your smile will last

 into another day

 

and like the art

     you’ve painted on your chest

the one next to your heart

your smile

is my very best

 

 

will it matter

throughout this

 

 

My existence

 

      I will have given much

 

 

o   received much

 

      I will have written

 

           words     

 

 

§  spoken well

 

 

mine eyes will have captured beauty

 

o   stolen many souls of trees

 

 birds, rivers and oceans

 

     maybe

     

o   my soul

 

 

                will have been received by those who love

 

§  much the way I did them

 

 

                                       and when my soul shall rise and shares


 the realm of all those who came before me

 

 

                   hopefully I will have mattered

 

 

and all this                                                  will not
 

 

§  have been for naught

the river's bend

If I sit here quietly, oh river’s bend,

will you share with me the stories
of long before your shading trees
were cut down, when wild deer
used to stop on your banks
to drink from the edge when
cool clear water ran, in the mornings
when mist would hover like a veil
while rainbow colored dragonflies
would play tag with the gold and silver
fish whose heads would rise from
underneath your clear blue water

tell me of when the Potawatomi Indian

children would play and mothers would
bathe them in your stream,
when Chiefs, ‘keepers
of the fire’, would sit and speak
then dance in celebration
of Mother Nature’s spirit watching
over all the land and your waters
would run coming from the Mississippi
bends far away washing rough edges away

tell me of when a soft blanket had been

laid upon your grassy noll with a basket
filled of apples and grapes,
bread made by hand from wheat fields
just round the bend and two lovers would
sit sharing their yesterdays with the day
thinking about their tomorrows in each others
embrace

tell me of all the lonely tears that trickled down

onto your grass from the elder man's cheeks that
had sat here in nostalgia, fond memories of his most
beloved partner in life now in the hands of
the great spirit as he awaits his own departure
from your river’s banks to join the spirit
of the Eagle who'd soar hovering over to fish
in your pristine stream

Oh, river’s bend if I sit here quietly will you bless

me with more whispers of those things that
passed by in your stream and made you smile

alone, grey and cold

tiny spits of drizzle turned ice cool

sprinkling all around
the sky is grey
birds have laid their nests
some in thick brush
and in the bushes
throughout my yard
I can hear them chirping
rustling about in
their cove for winter rest
quiet abounds
a feel of abandonment
from life’s verve
people in their homes
afraid of the cold

this grey before the snow

I’m not fond of it
all seem to choose isolation
as if they’re distancing
as if they’ve all run off
to some place in the dark
I feel left alone
a childhood memory

I know that all

is born alone
all die alone
view a star in the sky
looking up at night
how wondrous the fullness
of winks and sparkles
yet stare at one and notice
the black that surrounds it
leaves it isolated and cold

we’re here

in the same nest
I like to hear rustling
talk to me
talk to someone left alone
an abandoned child, the elderly,
a dog
all, once had someone
love is love only when shared

perennial

like a flower whose petals

desiccated by winter’s cold
is this the way you see me
now that I am old

you used to touch me tenderly

as if without your gentleness
I would break and shatter
In your hands  

you’d kiss my eyes my nose

run your fingers through my hair
you’d whisper such sweet words to me
kiss my lips till they turned red

now you walk by me

without your eyes meeting mine
you say the words ‘I love you’
without a feel of love inside

don’t you realize that

I am a perennial
if you water me and till
my soil my petals will
replenish fill with color

and when you next wish

to hold me to your face
smell my freshness, touch me
feel me, I will whisper what
my heart spoke once before…

                        ‘do not disdain portrayals of love

                        nor feign affection but receive
                        with open arms and heart
                        life’s every emanation
                        for loves they falter
                        and tend sometimes to
                        fade away when hearts are
                        scorned and cry from day to day
                        do not fold within like a
                        flower sleeping at the end of its season
                        but always leave a little
                        room to start again’

"And they call it, puppy love"

sky changes hue from mornings

thru mid day to evening
the clouds they soar
some stratus fast some cottons slow

days go by, weeks and

months travel in packs
they bundle in years

change is constant, chaos its drink

yet through all this, love is the same
there’s blue, there’s grey, there’s red
and there's unconditional

when first I knew love
was from it’s absence
clouds covering the sun,
stars not appearing at night,
when she walked away

doc told me today

my little one is being taken away
by an insidious malady
his cuddles and warmth
soon to be replaced,
abounding my day, with tears

I used to push love away

not deserving of it
abandoned as a child
uncaring cold took its place
then one day love swallowed my heart

love is a curious spirit

sometimes I wish I’d never
known it so in its absence
the pain would not be so great

Oh well, if through my latter years

the changes and chaos of the universe
should leave room for me to witness love again
I’ll probably hold it, embrace it and hope
if its absence rears again
it will be when my eyes have, forever, closed  

stranger in the midst

a stranger has crawled under my skin

with aged folds, long unkempt nails
he struggles to bathe every other day
his torn unwashed flannel shirt
sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans worn
needing to jump in the shower with him

he carries luggage, inside strewn pictures

and olden bound notebooks
with smudged pencil scribbles
and ink written memories now run
from line to line with the passing of time

this luggage with a skeleton key lock

has been opened takes him
on a path of trails intentionally
long forgotten he knows,
unless discarded in the river,
he'll carry this luggage around forever

he pulls out this note book,

thin wire bound card board flaps,
flips them open discovering
his forgotten demons plundered in pain
slightly legible on smudged pages stained
with tears and occasional drops
of fading blood

arm hair raise as he reads these

sadden memories causing his eyes
to weld with tears, heart laments 
with estranged beating rhythms
struggles confronting his past
wrestles with anguish and anger

I realize I do not like his company  

so I close the notebook flap
toss it back into the decrepit old luggage
I lumber to the rivers edge fling it
with great might out as far as possible
watch it as slowly to the bottom
it sinks where it will catch passing
debris and fish will nest upon it

so long stranger

a smile lost

we’ve carried the smile of our hearts

in our hands for so long, now.
feeling safe that we would
not drop it

the love sick smile that we

once stored in that secret
special place where only
you and I knew its keep

we would bring it out

to share to pleasure upon
even when there’d be pain
and turmoil rampant
we’d wrap ourselves
in our smile and all would
be fine

burning coals could be

underneath our naked feet
and we would not notice
with the nascence
of our smile

have we displaced its keep

or did it fall
slip between our fingers
while bathing in the suds of time  
rinsing in waters of complacency

will you help me find it

and grasp it tightly in our hands
shelter it in a new secret cove
not to be misplaced again

song of the stream

remember when we used to run

and climb, we’d jump into a pile of leaves
run through cool streams with shoes on
we’d stop and sit on the rivers’ bank
sometimes talk about our dreams
but mostly look into each others eyes
and promise to each other our tomorrow

tomorrow has come and no longer can I run

age has taken my legs my hips
still I wish to roll around the Fall of leaves
and listen to the song of that nearby stream

we now sit together on the rivers’ bank

share what we had seen when some of yesterdays
we’d look into each others’ eyes
when quiet and a swirling wind would whisper
in our ears in lieu of spoken words  
and we’d listen to the water in the stream
as it harmonized a chorus to our dreams

alone, a tiny stone

a tiny stone

sits all alone
amidst large rocks
and giant trees

comes a small child

picks it up
in his tiny hands
smiles finding it pleasing
he tosses it into
a cool wet stream

this tiny stone

for a moment
was not alone
it rode the wind
and felt a wet cool

the child felt

joy when the tiny
stone skipped more
than twice

no longer did this

tiny stone feel it was alone
in the largeness
of all around
someone noticed it

if you see a tiny stone

sitting all alone
place it in the palm
of your hand
smile at it
set it back

you will change

its world and
so too
your universe

 

shattered vas

a shattered vas

shard pieces
strewn splayed
I lay there
hoping somehow
to be put back together

disconcerted disheartened

by all who just walk by
and I am not alone
on this cold hard floor
other fine crystal
and porcelain china
lies broken next to me

I’m frayed and afraid

for I’ve seen too many
broken pieces not mended
or repaired but in the stead
swept and discarded
forgotten

If only we'd all imagine

what wondrous mosaic
these broken pieces
would make
when re-assembled   
with a little
Love and care

nebulous kiss

a morning mist paints

the long grass, the trees
with a sheath of translucent sheen
while a grey white veil breathes off
concrete streets and rooftops
dancing surreally like an ocean wave

unseen chirping sounds abound

through the mist with caws from
perching beaks somewhere yonder
in the trees

an eerie feeling comes o’er me

as if my soul has left my incarnate
shell floating hovering using the
grey veil as its attire
a nebulous feel of existence

these latter years I’ve gathered

thoughts and memories and with
introspection ascend to heights
that release the tethers that
once held my youth earthbound
hoarding of temporal objects
displaying my feign ways

this soul that hovers as once mine

now melded in the pervading
grey mist portraying the universal spirit
must avail itself to the true worth
and mystical value of Being
releasing worldly pleasures,
yet in balance, washing away
the pangs and pains

tell me

'...what is all this kissing’s worth...'  

Minion of a Sleepless Night

Minions of a sleepless night

float about shadowing
my every thought not
allowing them to rest
but chase them into
a frenzied state

My eye lids close

to block what ever
distracting light may
try to pierce the dark
that blankets the night
pulled gently taught
over me

I toss and turn like

a dog who tries to
find that comfort spot
after turning and turning
then scratching and propping
the surface with its front paws
where it will finally lie

Not until late early morning

did my mind and body
finally lay at rest
trying to consume
the final nocturne hours
before the croaks and chirps
give way to the whistling
of morning birds

Still I know that even

in my waking state

when intermittently reverie

taps me on my shoulder

there lurks the shadow minions

cloaked in sleepless attire

of disruption and unrest

with shards of frenzied thoughts

Seasons Change

Seasons change

Summer to autumn
Autumn to winter
Winter to spring

They transition at a

timely pace with
colors and hues
white cold but follows
with a warm embrace

You see me today

you forget me tomorrow
long lost in the shadows
of yesterdays and you
leave without a trace

Classics in writ speak

of lovers in love
when neither wars
or distance could
separate their hearts

Days would go by
weeks then years
when together again
tiff time had never
sent them apart

The human soul seems

to have changed yet
unlike what beauty
change of season renders
the human heart  beats
but no longer remembers

come with me

when I put my hands together

and I cup them
they hold what came before
what has become
much room left
to hold what will be

if you take my hand

you can come with me

reaping love

the wind howls softly

water splashes and crashes
over stones and limbs
having fallen into its stream

my eyes take pleasure

in the sight of flight
as they coo and cackle
in the dusk before night

quietly I sit to feel

the gentleness of life
without the sorrows,
and thoughts of human plight

I steal this moment

of Nature’s nest
to give my mind and heart
a little time to rest

I care much for hearts

of others but cry inside
when seemingly for me
they show no druthers

I sit here alone
with Nature’s breath

kissing me gently upon my face
gathering tightly in its embrace

as I close ‘mine eye’

to sleep I ask for when
it takes my soul to keep
my life, my love
shall for others reap

changing tide

time passes

aging envelops me
it embraces me
tighter and tighter

storms I used to

only wince at
now leave me
with anxious despair

when time was young

I could build me
a shelter with strong hands
and soon the storm
would pass

sitting on beach sand

would lead me to play
run in it and watch
the ocean tides come in
challenge me to swim
in them

when once the hand

that held mine as we’d
kick sand and splash
each other in play
wishes no longer to
walk near the ocean
out of fear

and when I do

a quivering timbre
voice calls out
‘don’t forget
to come back to me’

the beach sand, now,

my every step labors
although still pleasing to
'mine eye', of what I can see,
the ocean waves
with their roar
seem menacing to me

sweet memory

Tenderly I’ve stroked your ears

rubbed your eyes
kissed your lips
held your hand
we’ve listened to each others heart
wiped each others tears

now distance has replaced

the presence of your lovely face

no longer do you hear me

nor see me when I look at you
you’ve forgotten the moist
warmth of our kisses
and their intended consequences
your fingers no longer
intertwine in mine
to pull us toward each other

our two hearts still beat

though no longer in rhythm and sync
our tears, yes our tears
are shed but for different causes
different reasons no longer do
you wipe them as you walk away

we’ve lost each other

in the haze the maze of life

I have

the sweet memory  
of your voice
the sparkle of your eyes
the warm memory
of your soft skin pressed
against mine
your tender lips
but not least
the memory that once in time
our two hearts
beat as one