Winter flowers


Remember when I first picked you up
We exchanged stories, laughs and many drinks to sup
We were on this this ride with the wind flowing through our hair
As though we were two kids in a convertible, life on pause, unaware
And that’s how it stayed for months, maybe years
Life was full of anecdotes and nuances cheered over beers
I brought you flowers to make you remember me in my absence
You made me smile by wanting my presence

That was many yesterdays ago
Time has left the beer only as a pain killer
The wind is just as one would expect January’s kiss to be
As I say hello to the man who sold me your flowers, my heart wilts further
After all, they were my token reminder of me in my absence
Now they are my reminder of yours

Perhaps time will be merciful and let me see things differently
Recharge and reset things in my psyche
One day I may see flowers and think of happy things
And maybe they’ll auger good times and emotions
Until then, I’ll take the sweet and the bitter colorful flags of my past
As they wave in the chill winter’s air



I hope the road is easier for you down your path
You forked off of mine suddenly much to my surprise
Now I am left to wonder whether there are flowers or pitfalls before us
I used to run ahead to make sure it was safe
Now I can only hope, as I pass meadows, that you too find your way there too

I am not lost, nor far away, but under the same moon
Even when inclement weather blocks the silver orb
That shy light in the corners will be your reminder that I am but a cry away from your side
I will leave this path, through the barbing brambles, forging rapids and leaping over ravines
I will do it all should you call to me, but otherwise live well, my love

I will nightly look up at the moon hoping to see your reflection there
You were my sun, my blue sky, my carefree day
As I lay down to bed alone, in the moons rays I will be with you
Hoping that you are not lost, but happy beside life’s beaches
And I’ll look to wishful stars to guide me once again near you

Before the court


The jury is out and my judgement carried with them
I cannot go back the way I came
Will I be accompanied or escorted to the door?
Behind both options of enlaced arms writhes uncertainty

The Judge awaits, too, the decision on His jester
He has seen me before His court in many capacities
Today, as lowly as a humbled man can fall
I am assured that Justice will be served

My days have taught me little of Justice
A blindfolded damsel wielding a broadsword liberally
It seems as though Her blade only maimes but never capitulates

Let them eat cake.

Shell of life


My grandmother used to sprinkle egg shells in her garden
Composting in her own way
Giving back to her little patch

Today I feel broken
Shattered and questioning myself
Decartian decomposition of my own shell

Behind the shroud of the mirror
In my brokenness waits one solitary hope
That I may fertilize the beautiful garden around me, too

On the East bank


She sat on the East bank of the river that normally brought solace
The brackish estuary seemed to recognize her sorrows
Swollen as if to rise up to meet and console her
Waves lapped gently against a winded pier trying to rock the babe

As consolation evaded the silent river it swelled more with her tears
The sweet waters being overwhelmed with the saline sadness
And yet the beauty on the shore could not see the river’s attempts
Seeing only the blurred mix of her loss in front of her
Waiting for answers to mystically wash up to make sense of it all

No driftwood brought recompense for the void life had created
Only more questions swelled along the currents’ murky green passing
The river did it’s best to speed along so as to hasten time
Because only time could wash the freshly opened wounds
And the river felt helpless in the face of the flowing tears

The girl would visit the river many times with the same results
Crimson sunsets seemingly painting the sky the color of her pain
Every time the river would steal a bit of rouge off the crests of each shimmer
And every time it would hurt less than the last, even if unnoticeably
It was the most the river could do with discretion

One day, months from when the river had first noticed the girl’s sorrow
It saw that she had ceased crying and was still looking for answers
So the river whispered to the sky and the collaborated on a plan
The sun shined down on her face the river spit up the colors it had stolen
The sky in turn rained down it’s part and a great arch appeared to the West

There where once she saw the sanguine colors mock her heartache
A new covenant glimmered across blue skies ushering in feelings long since estranged
If only for a moment this worked and the river made her smile again
It was able to rest again at its normal level
Leaving the brackish tears out at sea and running sweet once again
The girl’s sorrow had broken like a bad fever
And the sky had taken back the passionate reds of loss



Lie patiently little bean
The Master will come for you
When it is time, He will come
For you to fulfill your purpose

Lie patiently and save your strength
Amass the knowledge you will need for your journey
Learn the skills you will be asked to perform
Repeat them in your pod
Your time will come

Lie patiently for winters always pass
Spring is immanent just as they were for other sprouts
Who climbed up trellises reaching skyward
Shoots and pods playing in the wind
Waiting to further embrace their destiny

Lie patient, now, little bean
So that you learn to pause
Then when the flowers are near
Or the rain shakes your pods loose
You can let the moments in

So then when you have grown to be patient
And the reasons of why are more than passing words
The lessons beyond your ability to grow any more
Then you can pass on these words
To pods of little beans waiting to see the Summer sun
And bask in days of your yield and of theirs to come

*thanks Elaine

What vile creatures hatch in the night
Shirking the sun, rousing as the world innocently slumbers
Things of horror stories that scare kids straight
Slithering scavenging carnivores

Shake out your boots on the morning
Look before you reach into the unknown
And always be aware of what is about your flanks

Because the moment your attention wanes
Or you nod off leaving yourself exposed
That is when the cowards creep in silently

you will wake to find beady eyes beholding your flesh
Your reaction will not be in time
The slight of hand has woven their venom into your veins
Toothless vipers relying on the element of surprise

So take heed noble warriors of the light
Keep up your guard against the darkness
Stack high your firewood and have torches at hand
For only when they can approach under the cover of dark do they come
Make it plain to see that their nefarious affairs are thwarted there
Then and only then will you be safe

Lunch al fresco


Temperatures bring may to February
Which lead us to an impromptu lunch al fresco
Steak au Poivre shared at a table for two

Unseasonably short dresses pass
Sparking only conversation on the weather
We are both with the one we wont for

Midday hidden stars smile down next to a full moon
Tap water takes on a strange vintage
My head swims in your presence

What makes all of the uncommon happenings colored in sunlight
Is that this day will pass like any other
And the only memento we will carry with us
Is that you were there and so was I

Many more Indian summer spells will be cast
Holiday trips to sandy beaches between winter storms
All will come and pass, like the unnoticed sailing clouds
Which pull the drawstrings uniting us more firmly together



I am a bear
A clumsy oaf
Sadly incompetent of delicacy

I’ll break your glassware
And most certainly disappoint
Because I am a bear

My words seem foreign
Never understood as intended
Idiomatic eccentricities
Fluency trumped by foolishness

Come see me as I am
A bear and nothing more
Marvel at me as you pass on by
A bear and nothing more

pearls of time


Billowing plumes of lofty moments

like beautiful clouds to be observed and admired
then forgotten instantaneously thereafter
such are our days and passing lives
A phrase or clever quip
a witty retort to brighten drab occasions
drift away into the recesses of our memories
staying always at the “tip of our tongues”
never to see the light of day again
Though no less fulfilling
a breath of fresh, cool air
a cold, clean drink
amidst desert sands
these are the instances we live for
pearls strung together on a fading mind
What is to happen to these pearls?