Poem 78: New Year's Eve

It's all a question

as to what

the coming year will bring.

But now, I'm waiting

for something still

so unknown to me.

Unknown future

bring me nearer

to life unseen.

and leave behind

a past remembered

to be sweet

and kind

and free

of things 

I'd rather not have seen

again by you or me.

Rewind

Delete

And conquer

Time to be

Poem 77: Zzzleep

Sleep
...is perpetuated rest
...is going away
...is time unpursued
...is life renewed
Sleep
...holds relaxation
...brings rejuvination
...causes waking
...heals what's breaking
Sleep
...is the sound that
...captures our silence
...helps our blindness and
...colors our wakened moments bright
Sleep
...is a moment
...is a lifetime
...is a free mind
Sleep
...is attracting me to
Zzzleep

Poem 76: Stand-up OR Stand Aside

I called before

just to see 
if the answer would be 'yes' or 'no.'

It turns out it was neither

for when I called it was 'no'

and when we arrived
it had changed
to 'yes'

so

Now, frustrated,
I allow opportunity for mistake correction

but my partner beside

denies me this fact

and pushes me aside

so that I am left
stuck

in angry panic.

Denied a promise

and denied my chance to stand up for myself

Instead, excused politely 

and asked to leave the other free

to dance her dance innocently

If you don't want to fight for me

step aside

and I will fight my own battle 'lone

But don't, under any circumstances

overtake my fight

and push me down 

to allow another to climb up high.

Stand aside

I will conquer on my own.

Poem 75: Rain-Shoeing

Fearing the trail

We pave mental way

Psyching up minds 

For a rainy day

Scared to be cold

Yet rearing to go

We drive up mountain

And enter the snow.

Fastened with snowshoes

And covered in gear

In two-by-two pairs

We hike unaware

Suddenly someone

Has timely recall

Exchanging our run

For mountain-side crawl

Away from the road 

And up to the trail

Scott carrying a load

Of back-breaking scale

GPS leading

We soon did arrive

Rain-proof unaiding

The sky soaked our jive

Poem 74: Amongst the Storm

Winds, floods and blizzards shake the world 'round

They throw, spin, cover up, and knock men down

I sit and watch these strong kings fall,

while sheltered by the God of all

My heart breaks as my eyes take in their pain

Can I have peace, when they don't have the same?

But peace is near me, like a storm

It heals my heartbreak as it forms

How can I sit in peace when storms surround?

"My child, with this gift, let love abound"

So love inside of pain I give

Amongst the storm, in peace I live.

Poem 73: Dance

Spinning in the air
Life becomes a melody
I'm floating away

Poem 72: Christmas Day

Christmas Day in my house is strange

there are flying pigs

paper fights

funny games

and happy thoughts.

Christmas Day in my house is odd

there are snacks galore

chocolate

olive cans

and much much more

Christmas Day means family

and strange oddities

Christmas means

(at times)

pipes, wrenches and chains

to challenge

pressure cooker brains.

Poem 10: Belated

I did not mean to look past you
or miss you
or forget you

Its not that I don't love you
or want you
or need you

Rather, I simply misplaced you
overlooked you
mistook you

So, now, my numbered friend,
Don't focus on past unsaid
rather, be glad you are ahead.

Poem 71: Throwing Blame

I feel it already

Pushing hard against me

Like a tornado or volcano

Exploding

...blame

You throw it against me

And I soak it in

Absorbing it as a sponge

Absorbs the rain

...blame

Full of it now

I wring out my heart

To find a dry hiding place

And it rains again

...blame

Give me space to heal

Give me breathe to resurface

Give me one moment

Or even a second

...blame

But, you uncease the throw

To let everybody know

...blame

Heart exhausted

"I will take the blame."

Poem 70: Understanding

Understanding

is not to feel anger or spite

or hardship

or happiness

or delight.

Understanding

is not to carry heavy loads

or run up-hill

on unpaved,

muddy roads.

Understanding

isn't being able to feel the same

but a realization

of another's

incomparable pain.

Understanding

does not require an "I know."

or "I remember when"

or "It probably shows."

Understanding

is a gentle hand,

a kind word

or a smile

of not really understanding the hurt

but being willing to hear it out,

relate to it

and feel it as one's own.

Understanding

is simply the act

of taking in

and silently

ever silently

gently

giving back.

Poem 69: Bent Steel

It would be lying to not tell the depth of this deformation of heart

But, shape is lost in pain.

Thought brings cruel truths of depth to full complexity, breaking wholes in parts 

Thus, dark'ning truth's domain.

We rely on words to describe this immense disproportion of live art

Where bent memories stain.

Now, life is living in existence which has once been called, and twice will thwart

But, steel will remain.

Strength will hide the tears behind until they seep through hard cracks of broken heart

With steel bending pain.

Poem 68: Shrimp with Spice

As I was making shrimp with spice
I told myself, "well this is nice"
To make a meal meant for two
Instead of just a lonely brew.

So in went sage, a bit of thyme
Two spurts of Oil, one splash of wine
And then when all was stired and hot
We ate together from the pot

As we were eating shrimp with spice
I told myself, "well this is nice
To eat meal meant for two
Instead of just a lonely brew

(written by AJ and Heather)

Poem 67: S-N-O-W

Soft
Nimbus
Overhangs
Weep

Poem 66: The Foreigner

I wrote this poem during my time living in Korea, and wanted to share it with you today.  Enjoy!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You look at me so strange

leaning forward from your seat to look around the girl beside me.

It's not my beauty that you seem to see.

I am so odd in such a place

and seem to be okay to be put on display and openly stared at.

 I'm an illustrious museum artifact

drilled through with blazing eyes

The stares don't cease when I hide or turn my back on faces.

Rather, they burn through my shielding back.

The world is a haze

and I am the only clarity walking through it with a light.

So, keep on staring, I'm your guide.

 Its strange, cause its seems so clear.

I feel as if I blend in height and hair and all things including soul

but really, I am alone.

The eyes don't cease still.

They are ever looking even when met with my own questioning gaze;

 I'm a monkey in a cage.

Maybe if I make a face things 'll change?

Still the gaze remains, unbroken and fixed upon the one who's strange.

Is it not-ok?  Look on, but don't say a thing.

With speech you'll end up in defeat.

Words are unpronounceable, but thoughts are uncontainable: so stare

"I think I'll get off the subway here."

 Goodbye, and hello stare.

Poem 65: Brother

Brother dear,
I fear
that I am loosing you to her.
But, really
I am reassured
cause with her happiness ignites.

Brother bear,
please share
what stories you played out tonight
For surely,
there is much to say
about the train and all the sights.

Brother sweet,
take care
do not just give your heart away.
Remember
time is just a game
but only love turns on the lights.

Poem 64: Grandma

Grandma, I can picture you stirring the kitchen like a spoon

with movements that no one could map, and onlookers barely knew.

You captured the day in minutes sure to complete your list of

'things to do' without ever complaining. but serving in love.

Grandma, I remember your homemade toast in the morning time

and the way you encouraged the weary soul and troubled mind.

How you always gave with words and offered your hands to serve

and never, in my memory, echoed a bitter word.

Grandma, I can think of you now sitting by grandpa's stool

your apple crisp in the oven makes full bellies crave more food

Us three kids decorate your kitchen table in human lumps

You are crocheting or drawing with us for the hiding stump.

Grandma, I pray for you now, out of reach.

I know God is watching you and will keep

you safe in His plans and strong embrace.

Remembering your love brings me strength.

Poem 63: Dry Rain

Rain makes puddles, then soaks into the ground.
Earth, acting like sponge, draws it in through the straw of its depth.
I want to see proof that rain's fallen, so I enter the world,
but in surprise I'm blinded to the residual effects
that show the cooling, feeding, prodding hand of rain.

Rain quenches thirst, but I am still waiting for this quenching.
I stand with head tilted back, mouth open: waiting. 
I am a net which catches stray feathers, houses bugs
and witnesses hummingbirds relaxing, perched to rest from long flights.
Yet, in all hospitality, I remain: empty.

Poem 62: No More Time (Haikus)

There is no more time.
In creating more of it
I borrow from sleep.
---
The mind's fading fast,
But, caffeine bars open eyes.
In jail I'll 'wake.
---
Morning's on its way
I smell it come like failure
blowing in the wind.

Poem 61: Suzie Grew

"I learned something new today,"
said little Suzie in her way.
With new knowledge up she grew
and pretty soon a flower bloomed.

"I am so tall I look like new
perhaps I am now one in few!"
But all around her sure as light
she spotted others with like height.

Bobby, Christy, Brett, and Jo
all near beside her chose to grow
petals raised their new leaves sprout.
and, Suzie sighed with one long pout.

"Can't I grow all on my own?
Can't others leave me here alone?"
Suzie turned her face away
and focused then on other things.

But suddenly she saw anew
she turned around where others grew
and called to them her knowing now
that growing 'lone would shrink her down.

To gather all the light she could
she needed others each who would
be willing to bend just a smidge
to let her food through light's passage.

Her in humble heart drew close
embracing friends that once were foes
and thanking God for change of heart
which begged her learn from others' smarts.

"I learned something new today,"
said little Suzie in her way.
She was so proud with her friends
in this good place the story ends.

Poem 60: Sunday

Sunday, you brought life to me

and wakened me from long-time sleep

then skewered me with mind's hard beat

of cold and fast reality.

Sunday, you sought me in depth,

and captured me before I leapt

from towers steep and high enough

to break this guarded path abrupt.

Sunday, friend, movie and mind,

with beer that cast the current rhyme

and brought together in a dream

unknown, complex and broken seams. 

Sunday, now, lost to the whole;

this triple focus carry-o'er;

some deep'ning thought, with more untold:

truth's deep in this complex barred soul.

Sunday, sun and day combined,

you'd think your path be clear to find,

but, in dark, I can't see your lines:

this failed attempt to lead the blind.

Sunday, take me as a whole,

deliver me with sleep retold;

lead me again to restful lull,

which dreams who once awakened stole.

Poem 59: Foggy Roads

Its true, what they say, about fog:

rolling within it, blind, unsure

down the road to wherever you must go

will seem to wind you more t'ward cold unknowns.

The fog, they say, traps you in its light

which disperses truth and hides words and thought

behind its ragged, tough design.

And fog, they swear, is what brings about

those years of pain and sorrow

and unsought after t'morrows.

It's fog, they warn, which captures and tears the torn.

But, when I look around I know: its fog which makes life go.

For later, when skies are clear, and fogs not there

I'll step out the door, and appreciate the sunlight more.

Poem 58: The Squeaky Grape

Dear Grape,
There is something about
that squeaky noise you make
that breaks my heart in two.
Please stop.

If not,
then here is my response: 
If you can't cease this taunt 
I'll have the cow's eat you.
moo-oo.

I win.

Poem 57: Thanks, my Friend

Thanks for understanding my inhibitions, frustrations, and crazy looks.
Thanks for even loving my strangeties and oddities and weird quirks.
Thanks for listening when I keep talking
and walking longer when I need detoxing
and nodding your head even though I'm being a jerk.

Thanks for being you, my friend.
You are a true friend through and through.
Just in case I haven't said this enough,
may I reiterate the truth:
I surely, and dearly
love you for being you.

Poem 56: Stranger in The Night

It wasn't the dark that sent the boys running
nor was it the girls following close behind with frightened minds.

It wasn't the shadows or the spooky walls
whose groans echoed in the halls as they creaked in the windy night.

It wasn't stories being told that made them run,
their peers, or even the winds who roared like newly fired guns.

It wasn't a spider, or snake, or monster.
It wasn't a sound, or a being, or a thing thought to be seen.

You see, we looked past the crowd fleeing in fear
and you'll never guess what we saw there.

Down the tiny hall, poised, and standing tall
was a large and grinning child's doll.

Poem 55: Words To Silence

It seems easy for me to put my foot in my mouth
and carry it around, while dancing my point
up and down the streets of argumentative debate.

Its unfortunate that these strong words flow
like melted jello, easily over tongue and through teeth,
when cruelty is not the point I want to mean.

There is no simple empathy in unpracticed speech.
But, if thought is not brought into words, then no longer
can it hang frozen in air or run hurtfully free.

Thus, in rhythmic silence I sit: mind repressing tongue,
reflecting for this moment on what I've done, and
with growing prudence, place restraint on spoken freedom.

Poem 54: Mr. Palomar

This morning, Mr. Palomar reminded me 

to see the world through the eyes of humility,

delving deep from my mind's security 

and moving towards the realm of possibility.

Predicting, relating and justifying, now pushed aside, 

open a magnifying window of the observing kind

and show, with detail, an ethnographic find

 (once eyes have loosed their defensive bind, 

which adjusts the chronic fever of surety 

to fresh perspective and resounding humility).

Thus begins the enlightenment of mind. 

Poem 53: Cinnamon

Cinnamon sticks, gum and pine cones:

I will stuff you in my nostrils

just to smell the wonderful scents 

others leave to oblivion.

Poem 52: Merry-Go-Round

From here the world spins and stops.
I try to move, but centripetal force pins me down
plastering me against bars along the edge
keeping me from flying off this surface I've claimed for my own.

Trees swirl around me when I look up.
The movement slowly fades, but I still feel dizzy.
My head starts to spin, and then the speed picks up again,
reeling me once more against the bars that hold fast.

"More!" I yell into the blur of objects swirling in my sight.
Somewhere, there is a person there pushing on the bars
that I hold tight; making me laugh and throw my head back with joy
while I dizzily cry for more.

In the distance swings bend and metal bars sway and curl
as I watch from my position traveling round in circles.
The world slowly fades to a blur of paint thrown upon a canvas
with objects visible only once their disguise has been unveiled.

But, I refuse to avow the objects with their true form
declaring upon them the mess that dizziness has preformed
by making them a state of beauty in my eyes
which see hilarity in things others would want glasses for.

As the metal earth spins benieth me I relish in the surety
that although my world is in this moment chaos
when the objects around me stop spinning,
I will be able to see and predict what is before me. 

However, for now, the world is unknown,
so sacrificing clear sight, I look out and explore.

Poem 51: Windshine

This morning I awoke as you were streaming on my face.
You shook my room ferociously, then spoke with, oh, such grace.
"Wake up, my child, come play in these streams of light I make.
Arise, my sweet, and bask in glory of my wind's strong quake."

But, tired from a storm last night, I hid beneath my sheet.
I covered my head, plugged my ears, and curled up my feet.
"Don't bother me with sunbeams now, or winds that I can't keep
Its Holiday, no time to play, my body needs more sleep."

But the wind it kept howling and the sun still lit my room
Wind rattled all my windows, and the sun warmed like high noon.
"Awake your bones, and lift your head, for time is fading fast.
If you lay in bed all day, surely life will go right past"

"Don't waste your day, my child, instead get-up and dance around!
Climb up the trees, play in the leaves, and run upon the ground.
Put on your shoes, and sweater and remember childhood."
Get-up!" the windshine shouted, thinking that I understood.

But, my ears cannot hear languages of sun nor of wind
Instead my body felt its heat and felt what sounds it dinned
Annoyed, and brought to anger, I threw back my sheets and sighed
then glared at sun, and cursed at wind as I stared outside.

But, as my eyes refocused on the landscape I beheld
My heart begun to flutter and my past feelings were quelled.
For out amongst the landscape, I now saw the dancing light
like sun and wind together had just won a long, hard fight.

I fast threw on my sweater, and my shoes, and scarf and coat
and I joined their dance in harmony, still baffled by their gloat.
It seemed as I ran out the door, song sailed through the air'
If I heard right, it sung "We've won!" the wind and sun in pair.

Poem 50: Over the Hill

Fifty is merely a number,
but it represents going quite far.
Now I've met fifty, and that is quite nifty,
but it still does not meet the bar.

I'll make it to 365;
to the end of the year, like I goaled.
However, the path is not just simple math,
so I hope it'll never get old.

Poem 49: Dreary Day

Today is a dreary day;
I coat my soul in fake.
I smile at things I dislike
and laugh at what I hate.

Today is a dreary day;
the rain continues on.
When little pleasure may be found
my heart I'll choose to con.

Today is a dreary day;
darkness does prevail.
I'll gather all the stregth I've left
and hide from coming gale.

Today is a dreary day;
I've got little else to say.
There's hope, I'm sure, for tomorrow
but, today is still today.

Poem 48: Breaking the Wishbone

Wishbone, I wish for deepening sleep

that leads me strong into the weeks

before vacation once again

heals soul with strong beats of slow.

Wishbone, I wish for mental gain

enabling me to think again

since what was once common knowledge

is now a large forgotten hole.

Wishbone, I need my side to win.

I want to pass these finals in

all classes I struggled not to

procrastinate in any more.

Wishbone, oh, please break on their side;

my wish compared is strong beside

the lowly wish that they have asked.

Oh, wishbone, ple-ease, please, please,....

Drat.

Poem 47: Fine Feathered Friend (In memory of the bird on the doorstep)

Fine feathered friend you once flew for me
in yonder sky so blue.
Carried by currents of blissful winds
you wondered the world through.

Fine fluffy friend you once purred for me
echoing thankfulness sounds.
Rubbing, caressing, you meowed so sweet
reminding me that love abounds.

Fine feathered friend you once sung for me
perched high on branches near.
Melodies, harmonies, tunes of all kinds
you whistled for listening ears.

Fine fluffy friend you once danced for me
chasing each feather that flew.
Attached to a string I commanded its path
each bounding brought laughter anew.

Fluffy and feathered friends, now you've met
caught up in nature's design.
Perhaps if you'd met on more friendly terms
my birdie would still be alive.

Poem 46: Wine Please

These few drops of wine
delectably caress my mouth in
dancing array of sparkling wonder
flowing through grooves and inlets
of a pondering tongue.

I wonder at its beginning
floating in tubs of oak
and ceder, flavored with the tannins of
nature, that birth wine's fading
fermentation splendor.

Breathing in deeply
aromas of melon smoked berries
swirling through spherical air and ling'ring
just beneath the nostril's breath
leaving wine scents to soar.

...Perhaps, I'll have a little more.

Poem 45: Garlic Pizza

Let's make ourselves a pizza tonight

with turkey and cow and pig

we'll use roasted duck and chicken feet

and maybe even throw in

a bit of buffalo, a snippet of owl

and perhaps a gallon of crawdad tails

or maybe instead a salmon fillet

with lemon and garlic spread.

Let's make ourselves a pizza tonight

all stacked with vegetables;

a few sweet peppers, some green, some red

and a bit of zucchini all shredded.

Mushrooms stacked, piled high

parsley, celery, cilantro and squash

tomatoes, oregano, corn, beans and sauce.

Meat on the first layer, veggies on next

then cheese from Italy, Naples

then BEST: the GARLIC!

Poem 44: Sawing the Cheese

Sawing a log, or cutting the cheese

both sound similar to me.

In the end the diff'rence is found between 

the stentch to which they belong.

One is loud, smelly and short

the other soft, and continuing on.

Poem 43: T'was Thanksgiving Night

T'was Thanksgiving night, family 'laxed on the couch;

every belly was full, in a turkey-stuffed slouch.

The fire was roaring, the TV turned on;

each person was snoring, or fighting a yawn.

A day of adventure with food, fun and pies

had left us exhausted with strained, heavy eyes.

The dishes were piled on the counter in stacks,

all waiting their turn for the dishwasher racks.

The floors were each swept, or were vacuumed in turn,

once compete, to the couch, we all chose to return.

This day of excitement now ending in bliss

had prepped-up this evening for nothing but this.

So, with our feet raised-up, on stool or chair

we stared at the TV as if watching the air.

Then one-by-one something clicked on in our heads

and we stood up, smiled, and whisked of to our beds.

I climbed under the covers and rolled to my side

and breathed out a prayer for the place I abide.

Happy thanksgiving to all those who I love.

Many thanks for you all; thanks to God up above!

Poem 42: Sounds of Thanksgiving

Honk! Beep! Buzz!
The traffic sounds of love
float in echoed chorus.

Whirl! Snore! Bop!
First we go and then we stop,
crawling down the freeway.

Drip! Boing! Dang!
Snow falls on window panes,
children bounce upon seats.

Yeah!  Horaay!
We've come and plan to stay,
family greets us in love.

Slurp! Munch! Crunch!
Smiles shared eating lunch;
celebrating Thanksgiving.

Poem 41: Poem from the future

It turns out time is the constraint,
that keeps us in a rhythmic beat
and tells us when to wake and sleep
and if the present will repeat.

It turns out time contains us in
a box of moments laid away
where tomorrows and todays meet
in a melodious dance of strain.

It turns out time continues on,
when I am lost or with mind now
gone, am dancing away night at
a bar I may have stumbled on.

It turns out time is close at hand,
its not withheld nor can withstand
the pebbles thrown from miles above
in time-predicted, lengthening strands.

It truns out life was all a beat
was all a moment's dance of feet;
It turns out time was just a thing
which limits things like brain and ways

of mind.

Poem 40: Intruder

You come unwanted to my door
and knock, but there is no answer,
Pushing slightly against its end,
your weight pushes it in towards the
inside where private life is stored.
Who welcomed you?  There is no mat
to do this bidding, saying things like
"come in, home is where the heart is"
Your heart was not invited here
there's no more blood to listen to
Why, intruder, do you push through
my closed door, and enter my existance?

Poem 39: Revise

Its now been 5,682 times
that I read through and underlined.
I hated what I read at first,
and now I'm sure its memorized.
And all the smarter I am now
though both my eyes are fading short.
It seems what used to make such sense
is now all out of order,
and what confused me in the past,
is peachy keen and bold.

Perhaps it is the dark'ning skies
or maybe the red wine,
but what I know is that I care
no more how this unfolds.
After reading now 6,002
reviews.  I'm confident to leave
after one more speedy over-spin
and a brief summary re-clean.
And maybe just a few more drafts.
Before the morning blooms.

Poem 38: Blurry Dreams

I dreamt last night in poetry

with words in vision seen.

The narrator wrote the script

then left for me to read.

The plots constructed on the page

that lay before my eyes

were hard to first associate

without a focused mind.

But once my eyes had opened clear

I found great meaning there.

For on that page, written in peace

was wisdom beyond years

Its picture now, within my mind

a blurry, random whole.

The story that was clearly seen

my mind no longer holds

For time that passed to consciousness

has left memories dry.

Lost visions from the past of night

leave only tears in eyes.

Poem 37: Blind Date

When they asked me yesterday about a date with you they said
you don't know him but he's quality.  And so I answered "yes."
And today when I first met you, and was introduced in voice
I realized I might like the heart behind your deep word choice.

Tomorrow when I see you first, without computer eyes
I'm frightened I will hide behind my well-designed disguise
so far its kept all souls away from depth of me to feel
but perhaps, my unseen blind man, there is hope out for you still

My friends will keep their fingers crossed, and hope upon their luck
that days to come will carry-on and leave us ever stuck
but, this I warn you, well advanced, my heart is hard to tame
So try your best: all thoughts aside, I've never liked this game.

Poem 36: Dearest Friend From Long Ago

My dearest friend from long ago

you stole my heart away. 

You asked me once to give it o'er

I ran the other way.

But now your heart with peace as friends

mine rises up to you.

It searches for a place to grasp

feelings to hold onto.

The cold that's felt is echoed hard

against my searching soul.

No touch of softness can be seen

no feeling to behold.

So, empty hands, my heart returns

your love no longer mine.

Your friendship is my only chance

and friendship is divine.

But, in the future, if you choose

to grow a rose of love.

Consider me, my friend so dear,

a waiting, patient dove.

Poem 35: SNOW

You can smell it in the air
coming closer.  But if you look
its not yet here.

The feeling arrives in a slow stupor.
It freezes the air and melts the heart
into realizing winter's first delight.

Knees pain, of wounds past
like a weather vain
but all is still besides.

And then, with a blink of eyes
it begins.

Clouds unveil their load to smiling tongues
waiting to receive the prize
of winter
finally come.

Poem 34: Freckles

There is something on your face my dear
it's brown, or black or perhaps
another shade that has not yet been named.
Would you like a napkin, or a tissue or a rag
to wipe it clean?
Or perhaps you need a hand?

Poem 33: Clean (An educational poem for health class)

Clean is a sweet sort of style
that makes other people to smile.
So daily we scrub,
in shower or tub,
so not to be gross or smell vile.

Clean is an important tool
that helps others know we are cool.
We'll care for ourselves
and have better health,
so when germs attack, we will rule.

Clean is for our daily choosing.
We'll brush hair and teeth after snoozing.
Wear fresh clothes and shoes,
deodorant too.
Good habits are more than amusing.

Being clean will help us to blend.
When we stink it is hard to make friends.
So wash dirty clothes,
and don't pick your nose.
To your personal cleanliness tend.

Poem 32: Quiet, Soul!

Quiet, Soul!

Do not speak

or someone may perceive your thoughts.

If you hide, you'll be safe 'til

other faces leave.

Quiet, Soul!

Do not feel.

For pain does come to those who will.

Instead, bury heart inside

this tomb they call life.

Quiet, Soul!

Don't receive;

give what you must but never be

one who leaves their life to see.

Let your self to sleep.

Quiet, Soul!

Obey; hide.

Don't say a word or pay a mind.

Run from those who happen to

catch a glance inside. 

Poem 31: Diving Depth

I can speak about Hume, Vygotsky, metacognition, Plato and Aristotle

I can reason backward and forward into the depth of human rationale.

But, there is still deeper. Can I dive in with mind until I reach the bottom?

I hold my breath and look for another cavity to open at the very depth of thought.

My hands feel the edges of my brain until the crack is found.

There is oxygen on the other side of the crevasse,

I breathe in depth, reorient, and enter through the crack

A world opens and the process repeats three, four, 12 times or more. 

At every pool of thought a new depth is found and cracks explored

With each crack a new world entered.

Soon my world is too far away to see. The pools above are too heavy to hold.

Quickly I close the window of thought and look away from the picture I’ve entered.

In silence I remove the pools from existence and return to life.

Then, wanting to conclude, I turn back with new breath, and re-enter.

I wonder: will I ever get lost inside this deep and not resurface?

No, I know the surface too well to become trapped in the play of mind
So delving deep, I will continue, until I, in thought, embrace the movement of the mind
and conclude, in turn, thought's starting point, which asks me: who am I?

Poem 30: Keen Debater

It is naive indeed to think

your meaning heard was meant by me.

Innocent you are to reason

that what you say is fact.

Young you are in mind and thought

to see the world as you do.

Yet still, as I listen close

I grow and learn from you.

Poem 29: You win

You win, you win

You win, you win

You win, you win

you win

I knew from the beginning

but still wanted to compete.

I thought I knew the feeling

but you retaught me defeat.

Losing is akin to winning

you feel the end come near.

But winning gives you pride while

losing sometimes springs a tear.

So stand upon your pedestal 

with trophy in your hand.

And I will cheer you on while

 sitting behind the grandstand.

I'm proud to be your loser

for with you I did compete.

I'm honored to have pared with you

but next time you'll be beat.

Poem 28: Deserted

I called your name, I shouted

I yelled and then I waited.

Silence echoed in my ears,

like my heart, time disappeared

Now life gone on, I stand by

waiting without receiving.

Though I long for answers, no words have come.

I look for direction; I want to run.

Where do I go, if there are no more signs?

When should I stop, if I go on this time?

Echoing sound of silence, wont you speak?

Bring light in my darkness and rescue me.

Poem 27: Heavy Eyes

Heavy eyes.
Reaching down to the dark corners of my soul
and resting on places I have yet to make known.
Heavy eyes.
Dragging with their weight a worry-burdened mind;
chained and locked inside the steal gates of time.
Heavy eyes.
Future will conclude and time will bring you rest;
stay above the waves; hope always for the best.
Heavy eyes.

Poem 26: Health Nut (a poem for the classroom)

This poem I am using this week for my class' study of healthy living and how it effects our body. ENJOY!

I am quite worth treating well
I'm worthy of good food
I'll eat a balanced diet
drink lots of water too.

I will run and play and laugh
I'll keep my body strong
I will clean and shower well
so I do not smell wrong

I will go to bed on time
for body system rest
I will eat my vitamins
and always do my best.

I'll eat a balanced diet
with meats, and milk and grains
veggies, fruits and very few
sugary oily things.

Poem 25: Love or Lust

Romeo and Juliet
vowed their love, when first they met
is there a chance that what they meant
was lust, had proved victoriant?

Turtle and the hare in turn
ran a race a prize to earn
one fast, one slow, they did appear
slow, fast, exchanged when end grew near.

Beware friend of what you see
Things which are sometimes will be
yet other times the things that seem
are simply seen through eyes that dream.

Poem 24: Falling Back

Why is there a need

to wake later than in spring?

Why is there a plight

to lose the evening light

just to gain some morning bright?

Why is there a rush

to change time from constant hush?

Why do we fall back

or spring ahead and thus

rearrange time just because?

Yet we must push or pull our clocks back

save an hour, rest from lack

But remember this:

the sun has changed

no little bit.

Though, all the same

one hour

has been truly gained.

Poem 23: Mistaken Age

The most common questions I am asked are about my age.
One asks "are you in high school" or "when d'you graduate?"
The truth is neither are a yes, I am not in my teens.
I finished school 10 years back, and traveled in between.

Poem 22: None of the Above

The quiz is finally here.
I've waited years for this.
But now I read the main question
and think that I forget.

The option that I want
its 'A' or 'B' or 'C.'
Its one I'm sure, but maybe this
is just too hard for me.

Perhaps the choice is 'D'?
To answer I might need
a bit more time, cause now it seems
the 'D' I can't concede.

It's 'none of the above,
that 'D' choice that I have,
but if I choose the 'D' then I
might lose the other ones

Why just choose one letter?
It seems that all would do
yet there is not that option here
So 'D,' I will choose you.

Poem 21: gnidaeRBackwords

!gnidnatsrednu egnarts htiw rehtona
dnuof evah ot
lufetaerg ma i hcihw rof
gnidaer sdrowkcab fo tra eht deretsam
evah oot uoy neht siht daer nac uoy fI

Poem 20: At Last

Peace calls to me.

In long branches it pulls me near.

Time cuts its leaves and peace

shrivels-up and fades.

Joy asks for me.

In singing voice it calls my name.

Time steals sound and joy,

silent, drowns in pain.

Health moves in me.

In swaying motion whispers strength.

Time then corrupts and health,

broken, goes away.

Life beckons me.

In rhythmic dance it draws me in.    

Time interrupts and life,

frozen still, is dead.

LOVE touches me.

With velvet cloth it holds my hand.

Time burns through, but LOVE

hardens and withstands.

Poem 19: Vote

Its time to vote

I know its time.

I planned and researched

but now why

cant I find where ballots go?

Where am I now?

I do not know the place that tells me where.

Oh no!

I am lost

and now I fear

I may be traveling for years

to get back on that road I left.

It said turn left

that Google map

but I think that what it really meant

was veer right and then look back.

Its five o'clock

times running short.

My map is torn and I'm all for

waiting 'till next time comes 'round.

We vote again, so how 'bout now

finding a place to refill

my coffee?

Voting, you say takes no skill

but I would say its PURE HARD WILL!

Poem 18: Halloween

HAUNTING
ANIMALS
LANTERNS
LOLLIPOPS
ORANGE
WITCHES
EMERGENCY
ENGINES
NIGHT

Poem 17: Happy Birthday Scott!

Happy Birthday tall, blonde man
I wont mention the color again
except to say that
whatever they say
intellect isn't a color game

Happy Birthday Scotty-boy
my sweet muffin cake almond joy
many words said to
turn your face red
making laughter explode each time

Happy Birthday Dot, the man
never stop if go you can
reading the mind or
speaking so kind
with the cat you're something alike

I could keep going, my friend
but must remember before the end
to wish you in song
simple, and not too long:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY THE BEST SCOTT I'VE MET!

Poem 16: Tomorrow

Tomorrow I will do my homework
Tomorrow I will clean my room
Tomorrow I will wash the dishes
and the house and car

Tomorrow I will change my oil
Tomorrow I will take a bath
Tomorrow I will send the message
and try to golf par

Tomorrow I will try again
Tomorrow I am sure I'll win
Tomorrow is a busy day
Today I'm at the bar

Poem 15: Nocturnal Energy

Its strange how tired I become

when concentrated and at work,

in the middle of the day, with

sun shinning brightly and birds singing,

encouraging not sleeping. But then,

when all is still and night has dawned

I am unexpectedly goofy,

full of vitality and the enthusiastic energy

of the dark, quiet night.

Not tired when sleep calls me,

but I fall asleep quickly

when daylight beckons me to BE.

How can I prolong night

so that I may later face a day

that carries with it a new beginning?

Its much more fun to be finishing!

Poem 14: The Group

They are the group I look froward to meeting each week
and when I can't I am uncomfortably sad.
What makes me look forward to seeing Wednesday again?
Its you, my friend that makes my heart happy, and my feet sore from running.
It's you, my friend who hugs me loving
It's you, brother, with music sweet
and you, sister, sharing thoughts with me.
I love the day because the many youth that help me smile away
the hard times from the long and many draining other days.

Poem 13: I don't want to

Nope, I don't want to go
its too far, too cold, too loud
I don't even want to try
Can't you hear me saying no?
I dont want to walk, or run or jog
I won't go if you carry me or push me more
Its not the distance thats the problem
Its not the situation that scares me or worries me
I just dont want to go
I dont want to think about why
I want to stay here, so no, no, no
I shall not, will not....
What?  You're going and leaving me alone?
Stop, no!  Wait up!  I want to go!

Poem 12: Home away from home

Home is where the heart is,
where the food is,
and where people greet you when you come back from a long day away

Home is safety and comfort
feelings of being wanted 
but where you're sometimes leaving just to get away

Home is a state of mind;
a place of belonging.
It's where time melds pain into a distant thing

Home is a place of birthing;
a house of living;
a country that leads growing towards a new way of thinking.

Home is a soft surrender.
It is a place, a thought, a knowing;
an escape from what life you are running to

Home is ever changing,
but always known.
This is my home: my home away from home.

Poem 11: 585 (A haiku which breaks the rules)

Ra
   in
d
r
i
p
s do
     w
      n
and lands
making puddles of jumbled drops
which meld into one.

Poem 9: REVEIRTER KCALB YM OT

You are half and half.

So full of life and love and laughter

that it escapes through your movements as if life were a dance

You are not one or the other, but both.

You are silly and adventurous,

yet want nothing more than to be close

You are soft and curly

with dark hair and long lashes.

Passing men gawking, and me happy by your side

You play frisbee, smile willingly and

would hike the tallest mountain

as long as you were with me

You are strong and able.

Prone to cuddle never lazy

and for me would always take a chance

You, my friend are two.

Half of kinds and yet one whole you

My partner in crime, I think you just fine

exactly you as you!

Poem 8: School is...

miraculous     murderous

amazing     frustrating

inspiring     discouraging

guiding      misleading

loving      hating

directing      losing

teaching      controlling

growing     stagnant

succeeding     wanting

laughter     tears

exercise       anorexia

dessert     liver

providing     stealing

loving     loathing

uplifting    intoxicating

fun    boredom

a complete and utter

self mandated

oxymoron

Poem 7: A Moving Experience

It was a moving experience that brought me away…
That stole me from this year old place
And threw me into hands anew.
I wrought in pain, this path from you.
It was soft words that were spoke.
Silent emotions were evoked:
A crisp remember; bright recall.
A moment’s whisper now hid all.
It was a thought of past gone by.
I left this place far past, behind
And stole myself away into
A beginning that was shinning new.
For things of past and things of old
Will fade away if left untold.
But this tale I retell is true.
I leave it opened to renew.
I leave it open just for you.

Poem 6: Good-bye

Good-bye what’s known
Hello brand-new
Good-bye old friend
Hello to you
I leave behind all that I know
To come back to what once was old
And live again in past been told
Where love is rich and life is bold
And family laughs and hugs to hold.

Good-bye my present
Pure and sweet
Good-bye my space
New time to meet
Looking back I can be sure
There will be memories grandeur
But I must bind up this allure
And think the future past’s best cure
For fixing things from as they were

Good-bye what’s known
Hello what was
Good-bye my now
Hello my love
Here past begins the story’s tide
The future is what past decides
This changing current I will ride;
I now am young, my old I hide;
Back to my past in rest abide.

Poem 5: A is for ______

Zebras
Yo-yo
Xylophones
While
Vacuuming
Under
Tall
Sharp
Rocks,
Quietly
Pondering
Over
Naughty
Male
Lion
Kings
Justifying
Instant
Hunger
Gorgings
From
Eating
Dinner
Cooked
By
Ants

Poem 4: Late

Time ran out
and I forgot
to type the words I ought
For now it's late
and late I hate
I'll post with no more time to wait!

Poem 3: Scientific Inquiry (a rap)

There are so many cool parts of our universe.
Animals, plants and weather all use systems to work.
If they didn’t have these systems, no order would be here,
all the parts would be chaotic and science would be weird.
But, since there are such systems we can think, guess and predict.
This guess that comes with knowledge we call “hypothesis.”
After so much of this thinking and guessing it is time
to watch our systems acting and find out how and why
So starts experimenting: we observe, interpret, then
come to a conclusion and reflect where we began.
Did our hypothesis make sense, or was it silly, strange or vague?
Either way we learned, had fun, and in science got to play!
For science makes us smarter, and it makes our brains to grow
So ask another question, hypothesize and go.

Poem 2: Questions

Questions rain down
They fall on ground, sea and air
Sometimes people throw them out windows
or spit them into the street like unwanted thoughts and cares
But still they are here, these questions.

Questions rein up
They pull and push from all sides
or wind themselves around us and squeeze
or are buried under sand until they grow roots and stems
and then blossom and seed: questions.

Questions reign on
They dig and poke, prod and lead
They both let loose, and later tighten
Their paths lead on to doors that are neither closed nor opened.
Inquire, and in reply a question.

Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head,
what shall I do before going to bed?
"There's not much day left; there's no time to spare,"
as I wondered using whats under my hair.
And I said to myself, as I looked in the mirror,
"you, yes, you could write poetry here."
So without pen and paper, with ink from online
I started a project to burn more of time.
What is this word time? When does it exist?
Yet I find enough somehow to begin even this!

So, daily now, I'll write poetry here
sometimes it will rhyme, sometimes be unclear.
Read it and comment, and laugh; be at ease
For this poetry means simply to please.
Enjoy these words, and write a reply
or continue a poem if you'd like to try.
Just remember that poetry isn't for free.
If you take it and claim it, you're breaking up me.
Share it and quote it, even sing it in song
just remember to link it back where it belongs.