Public Posts

There may never be,
a chance like this,
where we seal it with a handshake
and a small,
sweet kiss.

Life is a gamble,
sometimes you can add a lot.
About the only thing,
we've already got.

Poetic license is in vouge
at this time.
So, it's painted a picture,
which may not rhyme.

When I write to you,
unlike this day,
It's because it's time,
to do with and say,

Hello good friends,
enjoy the ocean shore,
for it's my favorite place,
to hear the waves roar,

as the waves, crash below,
as Seagulls do their thing,
soaring, making me sing.

You need me not,
you never did,
but you would tease,
"Oh, you kid."

Words should
come, here now,
bringing a feeling,
of here and now.

I'm finding it hard
to be here, a chore,
for I like it not.
Not anymore.

Thanks be to you, my Lord.
It's been a long, long while,
since I've sinned,
yet you don't revile.,

me with threads,
are bare,
who I, without reason,
doesn't care,

any longer for this,
an added strife,
as I continue to search for,
my missing wife.

What say you,
with flesh so weak,
who uses others,
when you seek,

to take advantage,
of their weak style,
day after day,
mile after mile?

This sentiment seems to be appropriate for
the moment. Not fatalistic but a
realism in this moment.

This happening recurs almost every year in the
Great State of California. Why isn't this a fixable,
situation. Certainly, must have some impact on
Global Warming, not to mention the lost properties
and all the memories that burned.

Be you the person,
with dreams in your head,
from the moment you awoke,
and arose from your bed.

We need dreamers,
in this great world, ours,
or you may still be riding horses,
instead riding in cars.

Was there ever a time,
when life was, OK?
I am uncertain,
and know not what to say.

Life's great journey,
may blow hot or cold,
but uncertainties,
will never grow old.

Black in the east,
the sun set, long ago,
now for the curiosity,
from the traveling show.

Many moves, so many,
best with sleight of hand,
from a magician, who is
on a one-night stand.

He dazzled the crowd,
with his visual display,
went behind a curtain
an vanished, flying away,

Never the story, to recall,
without a visual display,
curiosity was present when
he disappeared that day.

My heart began beating,
with a regular heart rate,
Why this happened,
I can only pontificate,

There won't be another tomorrow,
were words well said,
for there is a problem.
Many of us may be dead,

What was the question,
another voice, chimed in,
for at this rate, it will only be
an ordinary, simple, venial sin.

Aches and pains
still exist,
from my misspent youth.
Broken legs, broken wrist