Questions

Which came first?

The egg or the hen, children or men,

now or then, the poet or the pen?

What comes last?

The future or the past, rising high or sinking fast,

a little fizzle or mighty blast, a crumpled sketch or final cast?

What is the end?

Goodbye to a cherished friend, a straight path or twist and bend,

a love note always meant to send, a dark void to descend

or love, joy and happiness to share and to lend?

These questions are the same for all but our answers will depend.

The End or Beginning

sck081514dft

Cloudy Ceiling

Dirty windows rattle overhead.

Broken switch won’t turn off dread.

A flower cart sleeps with gray canopy.

Blue hides beyond infinity.

`

Tiny world, walls surround.

Door jambs swell, I am bound.

The smaller my cube the more I pick.

Yet droplets spill without a lick.

`

Hunger consumes wasted words.

Cupboards cluttered with thirsty birds.

Procrastination wears heavy on my floor.

Stained and crumpled dreams clutter more.

`

Showers will come. The well will fill.

Current flows once still.

Walls disappear. Windows clear.

The beyond invites, if I dare.

`

The End

`

Sck081714

Choices

Colors abound, many unseen

Warm, cold and in between

Good, neutral or just plain mean

Perfectly flat or ultra-high sheen

 

Blackness paints the hue of night

Shades of gray fill the light

Morning comes all is bright

Gaze the sun all is white

 

Breathe deep, share the haste

Air fresh or full of waste

Seas of warmth or frigid ice

Hairs of decision some with lice

 

A spectrum of options everyday

Wheels and dials all have their say

Black or white, shades of gray

But choose we must somehow, some way.

 

The End

Sck081514

Love Is

Love is: hugs and kisses at the door,
thinking your mate loves you more,
pleasures of both felt by each,
waiting hands always in reach,
arms that hold and squeeze just right,
dozing embraced till the morning light,
discovering beauty with every move,
every song sharing the groove,
time apart passes far too slow,
time together is all systems go,
troubles fade when the other’s near,
smiles continuous with never a tear,
laughter erupts at the littlest of things,
love is the joy that it brings.

~*~
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Morning Triku II

My Love

A look, touch – A kiss

Hands, bodies – Tactile bliss

Love – Nothing’s amiss

 ~

My Friend

Heart strings stroked feel heat

Neck caressed long and sweet

Rhythm head to feet

 ~

Begin’d

How humans learned

They died for knowledge yearned

Trial and error’d

 

~*~

sck081214

Two to One

Too few natives, too many a chief

Too few police, too many a thief

Too much sun, too little rain

Too much tan, too little grain

 

Too few balls, too many sports

Too many yachts, too few ports

Too few hearths, too many homes

Too much warmth under too few domes

 

Too many shakes, too few hugs

Too little trust, too many bugs

Too little love, too much hate

Too little planning, too much fate

 

Too much running, too little soul

Too much waste, too small a hole

Too many pages, too few to conserve

Too many titles too few deserve

 

Too many thinkers, too little thought

Too many lies, too little truth sought

Too much war, too little gain

Too little peace, too much pain

 

Too many arms, too few fists

Too few battles won to list

Too little time, too much to lose

Two choices remain – which one do you choose?

 

 

The End                                          sck081314

Seasons

Spring

Life blossoms shedding care

Day’s grow longer, nights dear

Not too hot, not too cold

Perfect time, young or old


Summer

Always warm, always fun

Life outside in the sun

Day’s long, grass grows tall

Night’s breeze welcome by all


Autumn

Full of color, golden bed

On the ground, leaves shed

Getting shorter, day’s fair

Night’s crisp, chill in the air


Winter

World of white, weather bold

Day’s short, nights long and cold

Holidays, many friends

Bittersweet when it ends

Good Morning

Good morning my love is words daily spoken.
Bonds made are hearts never broken.
Snuggling close starts every day.
Warmth is felt and here to stay.
~
Eyes open to smiles bright.
Kisses are shared and all is right.
Our day’s to be filled with great elation.
Our time’s together always pure jubilation.
~
Worries pass without a fuss.
Poetry’s to be written just for us.
Adventure awaits with each day anew.
And good morning my love, my love’s for you.

~*~
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Dead Tired

.
Finally, the end of the longest day of my life was over. The tears of the past months now free to flow yet strangely absent. This old house quieter than ever, the door closing behind me and the true sense of emptiness was now being felt as I never thought possible.

Leading up to my wife’s death, friends, family and of course my daughter were always close by and the grief shared by all. Now the house is dark as I stand in the hallway not wanting to turn on the light for fear of seeing the reality of finally being alone.

The hall was brighter just this morning as the sun rose and my daughter and I went off to the funeral parlor for Liz, my wife’s final service before our trip to the cemetery. The morning was crisp and clear, a distant smell of lilac hung in the air as the cars lined up for the procession.

The route chosen was considerably longer than necessary but a twisty country road in full spring bloom is a sight to be enjoyed, even if it to be the last. The funeral itself was as beautiful as anyone could expect, the morning mist lingered in the new day and the birds serenaded in the background as hundreds of mourners passed to show love, friendship and respect for a truly remarkable person. A woman whom I loved deeply for many, many years but now feeling I never fully acknowledged as a person or professional and was regretting having not expressed it more when she was alive. I hoped she knew of my love and respect for her as a mother and friend, as a physician, scientist and teacher and of course as a very lucky man’s wife.

The next few days a similar sad and hazy blur, I just roamed from one room to the next recalling all the little things that happened in each one over the thirty years living here. Each had a story, a laugh or tear, all where ours, our colors, our furniture, our books and our clutter. Each and every piece a memory and all memories of an instant in time to never be repeated. A life time that was a life’s time in the making and yet gone in an instant.

Life goes on I’m told and I would like to believe that. I’m sure for many it does. For some however it’s just not meant to be. I realized this when the crumpled remains of my car was dumped in my driveway minutes ago. And I never got to say goodbye.

The End

sck061817 / dft

Time for Time-Out

timeoutimg002

Time for time-out it’ll end soon.

Dug in the yard with mom’s good spoon.

She’s had it since her wedding day.

Used just for holidays, not play.

*

I said that it was shaped just right,

to dig a trench where armies can fight.

Needs to be deep but not too wide.

Had to dig fast so they can hide.

*

Buried far down just like a tomb.

Guarding treasure found in your room.

Found in a box high on a chest.

It’s the booty pirates like best.

*

I must protect those shiny things:

chains, charms, bracelets, baubles and rings.

Hid them good, remembered the map.

But then forgot after my nap.

*

To help me dig I found a pet.

The best digger there is I’ll bet.

Finished our yard then went next door.

Found nothing, ran off to dig more.

*

Chased our cat high up in the tree.

Grandma called the police for me.

Her nurse had to help make the call.

The police came, that isn’t all.

*

While chasing his dog that I found,

the man fell from holes in the ground.

He said he’ll sue, just wait and see.

I said it was his dog, not me.

*

His face was red, limping away.

But grandma’s heart will be okay.

And I have some more good news.

While digging today, I wore no shoes.

*

They’re nice and clean and tucked away.

I’ll try no pants some other day.

Though mess was made with my bare feet,

I cleaned it up with hose and sheet.

*

Pushed all the water out the door.

Then to your room, I cleaned some more.

Too bad the hose didn’t quite reach.

I luckily then found the bleach.

*

You’ll smile when you turn on the light.

I know you like things clean and white,

with spots of color here and there.

You’ll surely hug your little dear.

*

I’m glad you’re home early today.

Don’t believe what the neighbors say.

The rescue came, Dad’s all right.

Not much pain, he’ll wake by tonight.

*

Go to the doctor, I’ll just wait.

I’ll be good and won’t stay up late.

I missed lunch; I’ll make us a snack.

Fix the chair dad broke with his back.

*

He climbed too high to find his keys,

lost his balance from wobbly knees.

I found some socks to wrap dad’s head.

Then found soldiers under my bed.

*

Recalled the mission to be done.

Ran downstairs to start the fun.

Found no spoons not already bent.

But then found yours and out I went.

*

And that’s where my story began.

Now come sit close mom, hold my hand.

I know that time-outs hurt you too.

But when it’s done I’ll still love you.

*

The End

sck2014

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/468259

A Day on the Farm

The sun’s our clock, rooster alarm.

Up to start a day on the farm.

Fresh air and sunshine all long day.

Eat our breakfast then on our way.

.

I put on my boots, coat and hat.

And find a glove under the cat.

Out the door to the bunnies hutch.

They eat  pellets they don’t like much.

.

My dog follows, opens the door.

Sometimes gone for hours or more.

Jumping high, trips latch with paw.

The cutest thing I ever saw.

.

Next we’re off to feed the plump hens.

Gather eggs, clean muddy pig pens.

We’ll hose it down then slop the sows.

Grab our pails and milk the cows.

.

Feed the mare, sleeps in the sable.

I’ll ride her soon when I’m able.

First she’s brushed then gets oats and hay.

We do all these things twice a day

.

In the garden, vegetables grow.

Sprout from seeds we plant in a row.

Water well, pluck weeds in between.

Shoe away pests when they’re seen.

.

When all the digging and feeding’s through.

There’s still more on a farm to do.

Pick fresh fruit for mom’s best jelly.

Yummy sweet, wiggles in my belly.

.

Orange balloons float above ground.

Pumpkin pies shared all around.

Our beans are red and peas are green.

The tastiest rainbows ever seen.

.

Life on the farm is so much fun.

Little to do when work is done.

Get up early, busy all day.

We eat our supper then hit the hay.

*

The End

 

sck091314

Imagining Real Fantasy

Grunts, growls, nods and shrugs
Smiles, laughter, kisses and hugs
Ashes smeared on homes rock wall
Soon words flow free, seemingly natural

.

Lessons learned, lessons shared
Lessons remembered, fierce feared
Nurtures nudged, natures shaped
Bodies tortured, minds raped

.

Minds make from minds made
Mountains tumble, foundations laid
Sky’s scraped, outer spaced and arms raced
Hole in the sky, Earth’s tears cry, life traced

.

Trails, trials, words and meanings don’t just appear
Nothing’s truly discovered if someone’s already there
We learn from others mistakes, less from their good
We do all the things that we’re told we should

.

We learn from books written by others, as they choose
Remembering what we choose, when in pretty prose
Reality is, as what fantasy was
History’s reality that was just because

.

So because became to hide the shame
But the causes that cause are still the same
History’s posted now, in real-time
Fantasy posted all the time

.

Reality’s fantasy some of the time
Fantasy’s reality most of the time
Most everything we hear, feel, think and see
Imagined and created just for us, thus fantasy

.

I speak in riddle, write in rhyme
Never say much, most of the time
When speaking I stutter, ramble and blather
So when thinking, write I’d rather

.

Then edit out space in-between
With the time never to be seen
Then post to a post I write as a ghost
A post that I host to share with the most

.

I can’t imagine a fantasy more real
When reality’s made with fantastical zeal
Just a note, I make stuff up; don’t know if it’s true
I’m just real confused, I imagine, just like you

.

Sck012715

Again and Again

I’d love to see you come again,
to see what you’ve been missing.
All this time in between,
could be filled with lots more kissing.
~
Every second that you’re gone,
my body still feels your heat.
And when you do return,
my heart does skip a beat.
~
Why the need to take a rest,
this night’s still quite young.
Place your cheek close to mine.
And we’ll climb another rung.
~
Bliss will follow then we’ll sleep.
Our dreams will light the dark.
The morning will then beckon.
And we’ll ignite a new day’s spark.

~*~
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Good Morning

In a lovers contortion, bodies in place;
hip to hip and face to face.
Skin is warm to each other’s touch.
Legs search a waist to clutch.
~
Hands explore, caress and hold,
journeys had never told.
Breathing heavy with kisses between.
Smiles glow, the brightest seen.
~
Heart beats in-sync, whispers heard.
Tremors felt without a word.
Nose to nose adoring eyes meet.
Souls at rest, the day we greet.

~*~
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Bad Vacation

Forbidden Pool2

Vacation’s soon and I can’t wait.

On the calendar mark the date.

Planning and dreaming all long year

Soon our vacation will be here.

*

I  started to pack weeks before.

A few clothes and toys galore.

I need a lot for our long stay.

But mom repacks it anyway.

*

Alarm didn’t work, taxi was late.

With seconds left we made the gate.

Sat in the plane with no fresh air.

Waiting for bad weather to clear.

*

Hours wasted then off we fly.

Wings wobble, we bounce in gray sky.

Black night rain, runway wet and slick.

Vacation starts, we all get sick.

*

We landed late our luggage not there.

Just full of clothes, I didn’t care.

Late night taxi cost us double,

Big tip needed for his trouble.

*

Get to our rooms, sun starts to rise.

Daylight’s wasted with closed eyes.

Day one of vacation’s now done,

Hope the next six will be more fun.

*

But first a shower then some rest.

Than out for breakfast that’ll be best,

Eggs and juice, toast with warm butter.

Opened the door our hearts flutter.

*

Toilets broke, no shower at all.

A sign on door said tub down hall.

Beds were unmade, hot water cool.

Mom’s mad, dad joked about the pool.

*

We went to the lobby to protest.

Stood in the line with all the rest.

The man at the desk did all he could.

Some of the guests didn’t treat him good.

*

Threw down his pen, could take no more.

Grunting and shouting ran for the door.

“Hotel closed” he said running out.

Leaving us stranded, all in doubt.

*

Where would we go, where would we stay?

Yet another bad vacation day.

We found a place, it wasn’t cheap.

But we needed a place to sleep.

*

Cramped and dark but at least clean.

The tiniest bathroom I’d ever seen.

Just two beds, no TV at all.

One small window looked at a wall.

*

Settling in to rest our eyes.

Then off to lunch in clear blue skies.

But halfway there it starts to rain.

My jackets gone, left on the plane.

*

We ran fast to a place nearby.

Sitting soaked on stools too high.

Fish only menu, not for me.

Hours passed drinking pop, refills free.

*

Bellies bloated, day spent.

The sun came out and down it went.

Saw a movie we saw before.

Back to our rooms, locked the door.

*

Much the same the rest of the week.

Sun came out once, we caught a peek.

Went to the beach, waters to cold.

A bad vacation getting old.

*

Good news came later  that week.

Luggage found but in Chesapeake.

Put back on  plane, soon to leave there.

They’ll be back late, we won’t be here.

*

Trip soon over saw a new place.

Lots of ant bites, rash on my face.

Dad lost his watch, mom caught a bug.

Stuffed plastic bags with things  to lug.

*

Our ride to the airport, not much fun.

Stuck in traffic in the noon day sun.

Bad vacation was had this year.

Being home soon is all I care.

*

One good part of a trip gone bad.

Is getting home and being glad.

Vacations done, better next year.

You go and have fun, I’ll stay here.

*

The End

sck082314

The Art of Living

~

From hand scrawl on a damp cave wall

The stroke of genius to start it all

And then another, discovered recall

A timely chance, the past in freefall

.

The renaissance screams in-between

Painted queens upon medieval scenes

To modern memes of tomorrow’s dreams

Our nows are relative or so it seems

.

Hung to transcend drawn to a friend

Contemporaries’ always free to lend

Future’s descend, questions to tend

Conclusions offend but only one end

~*~

sck020816

Blind Faith

If love is blind I need to see no more.
The vision in my mind’s everlasting and pure.
If love is blind the future I now see,
our senses felt as one, together you and me.
~
If to know love’s blind the truth then is clear.
Each time I close my eyes her touch is always near.
If to know what you feel your sight then is set.
Eyes see each other and stare with no regret.

~*~
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Switching On

Sure to be a better day,
changes planned and underway.
Empty space now filled with life.
Fulfillment felt when no strife.
~
Smiling faces greet each dawn.
Kisses next, for to each we’re drawn.
Nothing’s hidden with mutual love,
between the sheets or above.
~
Chapters end and a new begins,
mourning faces again to grin.
With every day there’s a night,
our forever tomorrow’s forever bright.

~*~
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