life

The Ends

Circumstances change and change again.
So I’m not really sure how this poem’s to end.
What is real is unknown till done,
but time imagined has already begun.
~
The stars shine bright until the dawn.
The future awaits and then it’s gone.
Thoughts and visions obscure the truth;
a lack of years isn’t youth.
~
Recollections and experience color our days.
Points of view shade our ways.
Life’s the sonnet never ending,
verses abound, conclusions ever-pending.
~
If to see music and feel hues,
you’re gonna pay your f’n dues.
Reality’s then plain to see,
for the muse love’s too easy.
~
A note received punctuation’s unknown,
another twist with a faceless tone.
But all the words used then rearranged again.
And this too will be rewritten because there is no end.

~*~
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Good Luck

Today’s the thirteenth, as you may know.
The only Friday I wish would go.
Today’s the day to stay in bed.
Today’s the day I always dread.
~
Lock the doors and stay inside.
Tomorrow’s soon, today I’ll hide.
Luck’s for those who choose to wait.
Bad luck happens no matter the date.
~
Superstition is what we choose it to be.
But being safe is what matters to me.
We all can do as we may choose,
life and limb is yours to lose.

~*~
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A Day in the Life

The sun rises to start a new day.
I awoke to a smile beaming my way.
The smile returned with a good morning kiss.
Our day’s now started in good morning bliss.
~
Work’s to follow and time apart,
but smiles remain because of our start.
Memories flash as the minutes creep by.
I’ll count those seconds till home I’ll fly.
~
With my head in the clouds, I’ll open the door,
greeted with love by the one I adore.
The sunset we’ll share embraced as one,
our day’s now over and our evening begun.

~*~
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Ain’t Never

I ain’t never wrote a blues song
Don’ think it sound too good
But my baby did just leave me
And not the way she should
~
Our spring blossomed bright
Our summer was hot
But with those dyin’ leaves
I was forgot
~
I was tossed to the curb
like yesterday’s waste
Now just her memory
I’m forever to taste
~
Love was shared in our hearts
A future’s gone before a start
My baby just left me
And not the way she should
~
I didn’t get call
there was no little fight
I got shot a quick text
on a Tuesday night
~
Her “baggage too great”
to groove with me
Just a couple of words
and that’s all I’d see
~
That’s how she left me
Not the way she should
Cos these blues I’m now feelin’
sure ain’t soundin’ good

~*~
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Chronic-call

~

Horrors penned in tomes of fear
Words unseen in a shadows lair
Forever night when cover’s tight
Wings blossom in morning light

Rolling stones gathering moss
When time renders motions loss
Unknown saints wear heavy cross
Unbound future our only boss

Times absorbed in a sponge
Fills the well to take the plunge
Return from pleasure, pre-desire
Or the heat of ice and frozen fire

Air-less caverns running swift
Bloodied quill the only gift
Flightless birds soaring high
Pages fluttering in endless sky

Spiraling upward for the crest
Touching down – needed rest
Sleepless specter, broken spine calls back
Ink floods lines, sheets fill black

Dark and light fill lengthy fall
Return we must to journey’s all
To do what’s right, a writers call
Recording all, big and small

~*~

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Wheels

~

I like wheels – that’s what I like.

Cars or trucks or a motor bike,

wheels make me smile and grin.

Some wheels spin in wind on a pin.

~

I wish I had wheels on my feet.

Then I can zoom down the street.

Up the ramp and flying high,

wheeling through the open sky.

~

I wish I had wheels on my chair.

I could get things way over there.

I could scoot in my stocking feet.

Or reach things high standing on seat.

~

Wheels go round and round in my head.

I wish I had wheels on my bed.

Then I can drive to all my dreams.

Win all the races, hear crowd screams.

~

In the garage, my wheels parked there.

Soon I’ll be out, wind in my hair.

First kick tires, adjust the seat.

Polish the chrome isn’t she sweet.

~

Check the mirror so I can see,

everything – way behind me.

Yes – riding fast is what I like.

On all three wheels of my trike.

~*~

The End

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Spare Me

The waiting’s over, my time is here.
The day is new, let’s spread the cheer.
The sky’s blue and the grass is green.
The birds are singing, the future’s seen.
~
The morning began much the same.
Yesterday’s wishes never came.
Dreams of the night faded away.
Eyes now open to yet another day.
~
Something’s different, I don’t know why.
Perhaps it’s the cloudless, deep blue sky.
Maybe springtime has filled my head.
Or could my head is done with the dread.
~
I don’t know how much time I’ve to live.
I don’t know how much more I can give.
I don’t know and I don’t much care.
This feels so good I’d love a spare.
~
I do know how much more I can take.
But today’s the day that I would make.
Then make more for all to enjoy.
Peace and love to all us hoi polloi.

~*~
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Dream Vacation

The grand tour begins with the end of our days.
It’s the chance of a lifetime in so many ways.
There’s dining, dancing and then nightly plays.
Adventures await with views that amaze.
~
Space is quite limited, as are the beds.
Bikes are allowed as are your sleds.
We’ve goggles for eyes and helmets for heads.
We’ve ice cold drinks and jams for breads.
~
Its best that you hurry before it’s too late.
So write your checks now, why tempt your fate.
You’ll be envied by all, won’t that be great.
You can double the fun when bringing a date.
~
Mornings begin with a glorious sunrise.
The party starts when you open your eyes.
But first we’ve coffee, eggs and home fries.
Clothing is optional so forget useless ties.
~
If you like naps we’ve plenty of space.
If you like sports you can enter a race.
There are no losers or fallers from grace.
Time is scheduled to match your pace.
~
We meet at the station at ten on the dot.
But if you’re late we’ll save you a spot.
If you’re early you can borrow a cot.
Because dreams are best when awake we’re not.

~*~
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Empty Lot

Our empty lot’s not empty at all.
There’s a tree that’s big and tall.
It’s a place that kids love to share.
It’s on my street so mom needn’t care.

We spend sunny days in the shade.
There’s lots of dreaming in forts we made.
There’s bunches of dirt to dig deep holes.
Rainy puddles for toy fishing poles.

Our empty lot really has it all,
We hide and seek and sometimes play ball.
It’s the place where adventures begin.
A fence to keep the city out and us in.

We’ve bugs and spiders, squirrels and cats.
There’s soft grass to sit for quiet chats.
We see dogs on leashes and birds in the sky,
Some tweet, sing sweet, bark, run and fly.

There’s rope jumping girls and running boys.
Everyone brings their favorite toys.
Weeds make jungles for our tiny men.
Tiny cars get lost, then are found again.

A place on Sundays for dads to mow.
A place anytime where friendships grow.
When the days fun is done, we all say goodnight.
To our good old friend, under the street light.

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Salute

Memorial Day’s a solemn day,
we honor lives who’ve slipped away.
On distant soil they did roam,
defending our country and our home.
~
A salute to those wrapped in glory,
a salute to those who told their story.
Thanks to all that proudly served.
This day of memorial is much deserved.
~
Perhaps in the future wars won’t exist.
Peace can be found if we persist.
Today may hold tomorrow’s key.
But it’s our past that has made us free.
~
Battles lost and battles won,
we can never forget the good they’ve done.
They sacrificed all so that we may thrive.
And in our memories they will forever survive.

~*~
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Loving Science

~
Searching in theory for relativity,
thoughts of you expanding constantly.
Feelings’ compounding exponentially,
your smile and warmth is my felicity.

With every kiss sparking electricity,
stars align lighting our intensity.
Our formula’s blending unequivocally,
biologically chemistry’s evolutionary.

Your infinite hues color a poet’s eccentricity,
soundly proving the love of you and me.

~*~
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A Distant Gaze

My poem today starts at the end.
It begins with a letter I didn’t send.
She kissed my cheek then closed the door.
We departed as friends though I hoped for more.
~
Our morning was rushed and I left in haste.
My ship was sailing, I’d no time to waste.
A week then passed and her letter I received.
Perhaps her feelings were more than perceived.
~
Her English was poor but my French was nil.
If it were better I might know her still.
I reread that letter ten times a day.
Her words, once vibrant, soon faded away.
~
Her youth’s everlasting as I’ve grown,
decades long past, her name’s now unknown.
And now miles divide as the time multiplies.
Yet still in mind I gaze in her eyes.

~*~
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A Past Deserved

A walk along the shore,
and a visit to the past.
Tides are changing quickly.
The future’s coming fast.
~
With every step a second,
the miles pass us by.
Hills climbed now distant,
racing toward the sky.
~
Blink and moments missed,
sit and feet skipped.
Always more is needed.
And yet we came equipped.
~
This quest, never ending,
measurements observed.
Time shared with others;
is the length deserved.

~*~
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The Grand Finally

Happy mother’s day to you, happy mother’s day to all,
Oh happy day to the moms who raised us from small.
You gave us our life and fed us each day.
You gave us your youth and we gave you your gray.
~
You waited and worried when we stepped out the door.
You worked and you gave yet we still wanted more.
You smile when we’re sad and cry when we’re good,
our boo-boo’s made better and yours understood.
~
We give you this day because you gave us the rest.
We give you our troubles and you gave us your best.
So this day is for you for all the love that you’ve shown.
Now you’re finally appreciated, now that we’ve grown.

~*~
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365 / 1

Mother’s Day comes in May,
the perfect time of year.
Flower’s blooming everywhere,
share a bunch and spread the cheer.
~
Yet moms are here every day,
perfect from day one.
They watched us bloom from nowhere.
And their sharing’s never done.
~
So, one day a year don’t forget:
flowers, lunch and, of course, a card.
All those things are everywhere.
It shouldn’t be that hard.

~*~
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Patterns, Patterns, Patterns

Patterns, Patterns seen, felt and heard,
some imaginary, some absurd.
Some are real and some deceive,
some are made to make us believe.
~
Time has a pattern, we call it time.
Life has a pattern, two sides of prime.
Joy’s pattern runs every other cycle.
The space between varies by psychal.
~
Identifying patterns is a chore or a game.
Seen from afar they all look the same.
Personal patterns are for us to decide.
Why be camo with nothing to hide?

~*~
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