Three, or: More

My 2nd trimeric a self-aware poem may be one whose words and form are two lovers aching to become three to share their love one whose words and form are in harmony pierces swiftly the disconsolate soul two lovers aching to become happy again must heed one another's pain three to share their love penning… Continue reading Three, or: More

My blessings, or: My limitations

EPIGRAPH: Basically, my life is so boring, it's embarrassing.-Hugh Grant (b. 1960) I've never been pimp nor whore never paid for sex never went to war never been homeless never been Don't know about life on the street don't know much beyond what I read in the well I do use caffeine when I'm tired… Continue reading My blessings, or: My limitations

Forth, or: Baby steps

My 1st kerf it's a risk to live life; every step a person takes could lead to tragedy, suffering, pain. men shall always know strife; diseases; deaths; hurts, heartbreaks; these horrors have driven people insane. newborns given no choice; parents choose to bring them forth, hoping they will find our hard world humane. at their… Continue reading Forth, or: Baby steps

Live the questions now…

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point… Continue reading Live the questions now…

Life, or: Death

Inspired by Theodore Roethke's 'My Papa’s Waltz' He joined the family waltz The day that he was born; With playful somersaults, Toots ringing from his horn. He balance stepped with Life, His "corner" on his left; Tunes sweetly played by fife, His fingers small and deft. Twirled then towards the right, Suddenly out of breath;… Continue reading Life, or: Death