Sharing

With every little word,
a soulful love song is heard,
expressing thoughts that we share.
Our silence would be absurd.
~
With every little glance,
we fall into the lovers’ trance,
dreaming the dreams that we share.
And we never miss the chance.
~
With every little kiss,
we’ve a little bit of bliss,
it’s a feeling that we share.
Being sad would be remiss.
~
With every passing day,
we laugh, love, work and play,
we’ve interests that we share.
There can be no better way.
~
With every poem I write,
her presence felt is my light,
it’s the vision that we share.
Then we kiss and say goodnight.

~*~
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Simply Grand

One thousand kisses each morning,
a thousand more every night,
ten thousand more in between,
fulfill our days delight.
~
One thousand thoughts about her,
a thousand dreams I’ve known,
ten thousand days or more,
we’ll never be alone.
~
“I love you” a thousand times spoken,
thousands more I’ve heard,
infinity is our goal,
any less is simply absurd.

~*~
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Time Shared

Dutifully wound when I rise each and every day.
Staring at my watch I see the time’s ticking away.
The band now snugger as the weight begins to rise.
Its numbers memorized unseen through aging eyes.
~
Wear’s now apparent, shimmer gone from its case.
Distress now etched forever on a once smooth face.
Hours once familiar now simply shades of grays.
Precision now is lacking in this twilight phase.
~
With each wind a moment gone, a moment less to see,
this time we spend on time are moments not to be.
I know the day’s coming when the spring loses its twist.
But til then, I’m sure, today lives upon my wrist.

~*~
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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

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

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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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

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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Music to My Ears

Lulled by music without a sound,
sleep arises when feet leave the ground.
The high notes soar, the low notes pound,
harmony’s felt all around.
~
Eyes closed with visions bright,
darkness consumes, and we call it night.
Stars shine with guiding light,
our sun awakens a new day’s sight.
~
Hidden worlds then unseen,
reality just time between.
There’s months of white and of green,
pastel shades fill the scene.
~
Ghosts of the past by our side,
together we travel far and wide.
Upon their wings, how high we glide,
melody’s echo like a changing tide.
~
Life is lived never alone,
spirits follow on their own.
Reminding us what to atone,
joining then when we’re grown.
~
Death’s a part of paying dues,
we only cry when we lose.
The future is for us to choose,
we’re still singing, singing the blues.

~*~
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Bird Brains

I woke up early and the sky was gray.
The world’s in turmoil yet I’ve little to say.
But the birds are happy in the mulberry tree.
I can hear them laughing, maybe at me.
~
They see our world from high above,
whether gull, robin or mourning dove.
Their time alive is soaring free,
while looking down on you and me.
~
For if to fly like a bird,
we’d then flock but never herd.
We’d hatch into a nest well made,
free of worry cos no rent’s paid.
~
Just think of the places we could go.
We could fly south before the snow.
We could eat berries, bugs and worms,
pretty much anything that wiggles or squirms.
~
There’d be no alarms or jobs we hate.
We could fly to the stars our very first date.
Then glide back down to a favorite tree.
There we’d rest harmoniously.
~
But we’re not birds and that’s a shame.
Our lives are grounded and mostly tame.
But if to wish on this day that’s gray,
I’d poop on those who stand in the way.
~
So maybe my wish is not about birds.
It’s about people I think are turds,
those who’ve prevented a world of peace,
for you and me and a gaggle of geese.

~*~
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Reach

Our love grows only stronger each day we’re alive.
As time marches forward each day we will thrive.
No negatives in our minds only pluses fill that space.
Our hearts are beating loudly and doubt has no place.
~
We’ll age together blissfully as the gray comes into view.
We’ll keep our spirits young, what else can we do?
We laugh when appropriate and sometimes when it’s not.
We’ll kiss when the moment’s right; I know there’ll be a lot.
~
We’ll watch our children grow and bear children of their own.
They’ll see the love we share and how that love is grown.
Once we were the students, now it’s time to teach.
Our lesson being love, then nothing’s out of reach.

~*~
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Odds Are

In the shadow of a city a child was born.
Decades festered to bubbling scorn.
His body grew large, his head grew bigger,
the search then on for a prized gold digger.
~
On tabloid pages their faces were strewn,
with scandals, bankruptcies and words of a goon.
Followed by lawyers paid a great sum,
ensuring victims would always stay mum.
~
While spreading his hate he found his niche.
And being a narcissist he saw no glitch.
He bolstered and bragged about a huge brain.
Some saw a genius, others felt pain.
~
Despite all his faults a following was had.
His greatness he shared, the world was sad.
Money poured in from sources unknown.
Bull shit prospered and a candidate was grown.
~
A show was hatched, reality lacking,
the outcome was known, dependent on hacking.
Conspiracies hurled, truth unconsidered,
fears unleashed and thinking dithered.
~
A president forged by the art of the steal.
In a backseat he waved with a spy at the wheel.
An immigrant descended a hypocrite ascended.
The “We” now he or so he amended.
~
A king is made with prince and princess.
While the queen hung back at a different address.
A cabinet assembled to kiss his fat ass.
Powers promised to those who could pass.
~
Those dismissed soon wrote a book.
Others were jailed for being a crook.
Impeachment inevitable, a sigh of relief,
a shakeup at justice led to more grief.
~
Leadership needed toward the end of his term.
But the mask’s inconvenient because of his perm.
Independence day past (let that sink in…),
freedom being fragile when destroyed from within.
~
The summer is here though different than most.
As the deaths in this nation is nothing to boast.
But autumn will come and the chips will fall.
A choice we will make, winner takes all.

~*~
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Hats Off to Summer

On this morning’s walk

while enjoying the breeze

I passed by a garden

and started to sneeze

~

I think my thinking cap

Must have blown away

I’ve searched frantically

all morning and day

~

Without my cap

my thought’s gone astray

The pretty blue sky

has now turned to gray

~

I tried an umbrella

that didn’t work

I wore a helmet

but felt like a jerk

~

Without my cap

my writing will end

I guess today

I’ll have to pretend

~*~

Sck070215

Opinions

Once in a lifetime can be just that,
often missed because we sat.
Legs propel as does time,
mediocrity’s chosen as is sublime.
~
Life’s meaning is what we make,
creative thought is no mistake.
Opinions are found all around,
ramifications we are bound.
~
It’s better to give than to loan.
Happiness shared sets the tone.
Once in a lifetime is every day.
Rise to the occasion, make it your way.
~
When brains and hearts work as one,
when each a say the work is done.
Confident in our choices made,
perpetual harmony to never fade.
~
Though just a theory, I feel sure,
love and trust is the only cure.
But opinions are found all around;
as we’ve heard only some are sound.

~*~
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Worth the Look

I found you looking for me,
looking for you, now we’re free.
The search is over, now time to see;
our lives desired and should be.
~
You found me looking for you,
looking for me, no longer blue.
Now we’re blessed as too few,
our love passionate, pure and true.
~
Now we’re found, time to rest,
sadness eased, we passed the test.
We wake to bliss filled with zest,
our future now to be the best.

~*~
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Pencilicillin

I think my pencil’s broken,
nothing’s coming out.
I’ve tried lots of paper,
now I’m feeling doubt.
~
Could it be a dream,
the writing that I’ve done?
Or perhaps a nightmare,
this time I’ve spent as one.
~
I wake up every morning,
before the sun will rise.
My chair awaits its ass,
glasses await their eyes.
~
Coffee I will slurp,
watching hours burn.
If I were a younger man,
it’d be of less concern.
~
Time is not to waste,
though I shouldn’t squawk.
My pencils served me well,
though I may try chalk.
~
I know I need my fix,
words do the trick.
Perhaps I’m not a poet,
just really, really sick.

~*~
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Morning Triku #169 ~ Haiku Theoreticallish

haiku theoreticallish

~*~
Our Wrinkle in Time

Work is what we do,
when not doing what we want.
Like death but with pay.

~
Constant Ripples

Time is space between.
Between matters and doesn’t.
Distance less with light.

~
Perpetual Emotion

Love is energy.
Hearts, minds and bodies unite.
Time accelerates.

~*~
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2D or not 2D

If to paint you in my mind,
extra space I will find.
Many things I could forget.
Hit delete with no regret.
~
On the brightest wall you will stand.
There I’d stare, brush in hand.
Heart beats thumping, a flourish made.
Details cherished never fade.
~
In my head we shall dwell.
Sharing thoughts we’d never tell.
On my shoulders you will ride.
Our joy displayed in our stride.
~
The outside world no longer exists.
Boxes checked on all our lists.
Imagination will be our place.
My only vision is your face.
~
All our wishes will come true.
Our dreams are filled with me and you.
But a painter I’m not nor a thief.
Freedom’s greater than my relief.
~
For if to hide within one’s brain,
there is no future or life to gain.
Our time together on change depends.
Our tomorrows then will know no ends.

~*~
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