Some of my favorite
things is watching change
as nights turn to
days and days turn
to nights as sun
turns to rain and
as rain turns to
sun as summer turns
to fall to winter
and then to spring
I guess that I
like the turning most
when friends turn into
lovers and lovers turn
back into friends there’s
a rhythm a pulse
in things that change
a drumbeat that’s seen
and yet never heard
Category: Creativity
Attic
Wakey Wakey world
I’m already up
drinking my coffee
having a smoke
and quietly wondering
what to write
to you today
Do I tell
you about him
he who now
occupies the attic
of my mind
you know there
the place where
we put things
no longer needed
but maybe will
be seasonally the
attic where secrets
are squirreled away
like nuts never
to be found
again the attic
way up there
the farthest away
from my heart
nothing ever goes
down from the
attic only up
from the heart
do I tell
you about him
maybe one day
when I move
and must choose
what to pitch
which to keep
and which to
tell you about
WantHave
I think I prefer
being by myself alone
because wanting is so
much easier than having
wanting simply requires finding
whereas having requires keeping
finding is much easier
all that one has
to do is look
but having requires blindness
the ability to overlook
to blink to swallow
and then to take
I think I prefer
to simply be alone
because when I’m alone
I can see and
I can wonder and
I can choose whether
or not I want
PostP
Easy come easy go
the pandemic changed things
people want what they
want when they want
scarcity replaced abundance and
selfishness took center stage
hoarding became de rigeur
not just of things
but of people too
and don’t forget sex
I think that we
all lost our humanity
when something invisible attacked
we each became each
others enemies rather than
allies I think this
happens when the adversary
is invisible and unrecognizable
WhyDon’tThey
What if what someone
finds you attractive for
isn’t the thing that
you want them to
what if the thing
that you know to
be the best you
is never even seen
what do you do
I have found myself
bobbing in an ocean
of suitors immersed in
their affections batting away
the paws and nibbles
wishing that just one
would take a bite
from the place where
I know I’ll bleed
but rather they bump
against the one place
where what they think
is flesh is bone
sometimes I think that
I will simply drown
rather than being eaten
to live again a
part of someone else
