What to write 
what to write 
when writing doesn’t 
what to do 
what to do 
when doing doesn’t 
what to think 
what to think 
when thinking doesn’t 
I guess doesn’t 
I guess that 
I will doesn’t 
then for doesn’t 
seems like the 
do du jour

I have made
so many mistakes 
so so many 
and the sadness 
with which I
am now left
is crippling but 
too the forgiveness 
not just from 
others but myself 
too for myself 
of myself forgiveness 
starts somewhere usually 
from the outside 
first for others 
are most forgiving 
but the inside 
is where forgiveness 
at last roots 
giving life there
finally another chance 

There’s a certain 
luxury living alone 
it’s the quietness 
I think the 
solitude and serenity 
and the sun
shining inside just 
for me to 
see and moon
for me to 
gaze so many 
things I see
that no one 
else ever does 
me being here
alone by myself 

Only mirrors
and ponds
reflect beauty
only hearts
feel it
cameras and 
eyes deceive 
and distort 
capturing but 
one moment 
of glee
joy or 
sadness trust
not such
a devilish 
device in
the hands 
of sorcerers 
painting their 
own impressions 
of lies

Empty that
is I
empty of
such thoughts 
and things 
like pockets 
and purses 
and places 
that once 
held and
hid and 
squirreled away 
for such
as this 
rainy day