Poems

we are complex
loving compassionate
when the threat has ceased
finding the time for peace
in that moment we’re released
with a hunger for more than food to feast

i love you so much more honey
to speak with our hearts so openly
our love not just for a moment
after such a momentous morning
so forlorn and barely coping
rash actions casting aspersions
impossible to breathe in
forgetting we are brethren
we were lost to one another

the spirit found you at my door
come home with me you implored
though scared beyond belief
with what we have endured
we cried together in our grief
your healing hug a great relief
you are the stem i am the leaf
you are the ocean i am the reef.

tall dark handsome
resound the sound of canons
in nights devoted dusks
to rush head first into sudden clouds
as streaks from lime-colored rockets
circle in reverie around the hallowed Heavens to honor
Jono on the onset of his journey-
may it be turnkey-many blessings
a windfall in Autumn-a blaze of glory
brilliant as gold leaf on the frame
of a Master, a child grows up faster
he is courage he has character
the beginner starts a race to
a place to take on the days and
wear them well
married to the meaning of
well being caught in the spell
of believing only time may tell
as the evening moon looms forever
in November under silver starry
skies and magical mountains
to climb.

trust the walk through a dusty earth
rust the mighty metal melds and burns
held two hands
she wears his engagement band
an inconsistent temper
a bedside table seems an uncommitted decor
like leaves upon the grass, as a wave upon the shore
and never will he ask for more
delicate as a war surrendered
slim ernest dreamer
married his soulmate
and the summer sun rose with their Rani
and the winter bloomed with their june
and never was it sunnier than in a Larchmont afternoon
or those fair shores by the sea
everything they are we are a part of them
looking smart in their cardigans
forgive forget have a heart again
in love we must trust
as the swallows fly to Capistrano
there will be a tomorrow
it’s in our bones marrow
oh for the love of Penny and Harold.

driftwood breezes takes him out to sea
to see the sky as blue and white as clouds, humbled amid humid
dense soaked to the skin sand
sticks shells seaweed kelp
winds bring waters forcefully-
raw unlawful tides-
press forward waves shattered on the shore
flooding foam foolishly found
from thickest fathoms waves rolling
in a sullen lull like a drunk with his gin to rise
and fall in swells that fell in quells
where vessels vexed head west to seek
fortune on their voyage to the sun
for a fountain of youth to find
a treasure in a truth wishes won.

a source of the scarce variety
fresh organic fruits were meant for you
hand picked from the orchard,
bowls of red and gold apples
lends sweetness, my weakness for autumn
firm purple grapes as big as God’s thumbs
red juicy plums as spiced as rum
pies a mile high as they are wide the 3
berry crumb
tarts fresh and hot the sugary apricot
juices run over the top and down
the sides in a sticky confection call
it divine a slice of heaven with a glass
of unsweetened ice tea
there’s nothing quite like it, fruit
picked right off the tree, served with
a wheel of warmed melty Brie.

in a world draped in black
a glowing moon is waning back
nestled in a negative sky
hard to see her reason
the round diminishes slowly from sight
the night-time long from daylight bright.

iridescent moon so old she knows no time
tolerating poets
telling of her beauty
in verse and rhyme

still the question is
what makes the moon sublime?
an achievement of the Gods
in earth’s creation
to light our way
to draw us close as life is looking up
to see the merry minstrel in her face

lamp-lights on the busy streets
mirror yet cannot compete
for nature is the truest one
as ever was a real icon.

red fairy flitting through the autumn mist
every whirling swirling sound
consecutive expletives in seconds falling down
tumbling to the ground
pensive memory happens fantastic
a last past chance is found
perceive a leaf adrift in wind
of seasons lifted spin
dear spirit where you been?
is solitude a sin?
you lose some some you win
though light may darken the way turn dim
attempts to start over but where to begin?

brown speckled gull
perched upon a pole
crashing waves
meet sandy beach
white foam surging
to and fro
gray water hurls
tremendous swirls
in cold and
vigorous splendor
in a tempestuous temper
from coldest ocean floor
in early september

insight for several miles at a stretch
coastal scenic indian wells
a place in autumn
to escape a hell
from feeling like a wretch
birds fly in pairs
without woes nor cares
their wings soulfully spread
admired yet oblivious to stares
combing the turf
as summer spends its worth
the turbulent surf seems
would never tire
no longer to drown my sorrows
there is method in her mirth.
she is water-i am fire
she betters my tomorrows

curious gray/white weather-worn
sea-gull taking her place in the mist
running across the waters edge
so happy doing this
colder days to follow
receding summer days of bliss
wading in the wistful waves
jeans rolled up to our calves
we welcome swells as hand in hand we stand
quelling all fears in water wind and sand
for somewhere sure on eastern shores to land.

my witness my liege
in a leotard her regard
for carrots in the broth
she is my brotherly bard
my mushroom & barley soup
like a shooting star she colors the night
ablaze across a perplexed sky
to shed her light to find her way
as Heaven helps her gather strength
a courier at best
a message to impart
there is a God
protecting the poised pretty persona
a personality as big as California
no worries Amy-I adore ya
the door is half open half closed
like yr favorite Greta Garbo-I vant to be alone-sometimes-
sometimes it seems the autumn skies are angry
but in truth fair Montague putting u up on a pedestal
is hurtful and imaginary-a canary in a cage-a book
without a page-I’m so happy you engage this endless
rage I seem to wage in this untimely age we embark-in an equal playing
field across the east end
We need not pretend at all
it is
the compassion that heals the hurt
it is a labor of love.

she smiles at her own jokes
gives out a guffaw actually
serves up a cup of cheer
just don’t cross her
she’ll actually walk away
walk off the set
walk out of your life
without you and your cigarettes
oh how she’s tried
to turn the muddy into pie
once burned twice thrice
the marriage was over
hand over the rice
back I came
like a heated train
trying to get over the hill
a victims choice
not to make noise
victim no more she will
meet me at my door and fill
my empty heart with joy
do you get it I love
this lady from above
with questions and answers
she is no stranger
this Lone Ranger
and I know I must see her pronto
love Tonto.