The Tao of what is

it is what it is,
is said often; but
often times my is
is confused with yours, it is
a different is, that I never
intended to own
in the first place.

the is, is quite confusing:
so, it is what it is
only up to the point
of a mutual understanding
of the is being referred to.

the is that is yours
made an is full of pain
and for this
I am truly sorry, because what is
is not to be taken at face value
apparently.

#ahaMoments #thoughts, #life #philosophy

Running Shoes

Millions of miles traveled
All on foot, self propelled;

Almost two thousand pairs of shoes
In over sixteen thousand days, where
Running wears them out, so fast.

Twenty four months
Give or take
Destination discovered... ?
Time will tell
Four corners held by beams of steel
Walls of colors painted with the breath
Of a kiss,
A thought,
A mood,
An inkling,
Or the contractions of climaxes yet made.

My head, spinning
At the ever changing colors,
Enchanting,
All encompassing
Before I realize
I hear the
Smacking of lips
Her walls, swallowing
Mine.
Perhaps a good place to rest?
For a time...

The Rack Room is on speed dial
Just in case.

About Time

Hands in lap, as they should be
watching you talk to me
posture of fear drapes your shoulders
heavy like boulders;

waiting for my gavel to drop
not quite knowing the type of crop
my garden grows, but please know
a pedestal I will never tow.

Against the resistance
at my persistence
giving me a half smile, chin down
eyes full of questions, answered on some dawn.

Thinking of time, eyes locked
on some distant rhyme knocked
out just for you, hoping it will
be me, with my lips being sealed.

A bolt flashes through me
screaming, "MAKE YOUR MOVE DUMMY!"
thinking better of it, I move as if the clock
read yesterday when destiny made me flock
To You, in the first place.

out to lunch

chewing the curd
to a liquid where it's swallowed--
becoming absorbed

Consumed

Cheers! -- to the good life
that would kill her in a 
shot; glass ceiling 
above dreams 
shattered once
she found the courage
to empty her cup. 

Ding Dong

.................


-


-




the doorbell rang.
oddly enough--
no one was there.

-



-


.......................!!!!

Memories Journey

a piece of lint
tinted blue and grey
I found hiding between the pages
of my favorite book of poems.

should I leave it
or let it go--

wondering from what distant memory it escaped?

is it meant to land
in this time or is its journey
not yet finished--

and why oh why do I wonder so much
about such things?

Burned

Like a cool bath, the burning
sand cradles her soul
the scorching sun caresses
her skin, as the sting
from careless words fades
into a rock hard memory and
the last tear splashes
into a wake.




- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

In Time

Rituals of days passed, only mask
each day to the next, the taste
swallowed with the bitterness mellowed
for weeks in a routine seeking madness...

Until you walked through my door.

I've made my first submission!

Hello Friends! I wanted to share with you guys that I have submitted my work for the first time ever to a literary magazine. I'm putting myself out there, but it's about time. I have over 500 pieces...

Waiting

In the setting of night
the world is overwhelmed
from the light of day.
It sets, in wait
for a new beginning.

Reflections

Today at dawn
I saw an old friend

who was even more beautiful
than I remembered--

I should have looked in the mirror
long before now.

Nod

I rolled her name up
in my left t-shirt
sleeve, like a greaser
firing up his t-bird

on a Saturday night
drive-in date
behind windows steamed--
in a wet dream

For the Love of Lily

The lily bloomed, lured
by the charm of the first star--
I had yet to wake

#haiku  #poetry 

Feed

a pint or two of stout
just to ease my pout--

a pint of ice cream before bed,
sweet dreams to settle my head

But hunger pains gnaw.

fast food drive-thru after midnight--
dreams of you shatter my might

throwing my belt on the highway
my pants are screaming, "may day!"

The hunger pains still gnaw.

one and a half dozen cupcakes
in the oven, set on bake

hot chicken wings sizzle in the fryer
new pants, a size up in the dryer

Still, the hunger pains gnaw.

now a heart knows a thing or two
about gnawing pain of rue--

it is swift and sly
makin' up lies

That hunger pains need to be fed.

Moon Lighting

The umbrella rests by the back door--
the distant storm races
   mocking the forgetful woman
rushing to her lovers embrace.

11 more Haikus to see you through...

1. the gentle rain rolled
down subtle cheeks in disguise--
quieting her sobs

2. picking up the phone
I listen to the dial tone
hello's are so hard

3. when the sun rose
he was absolutely gorgeous --
he wasn't awake

4. drops of dew reflect
grey skies on the bronzed roof roost--
the birds sing freely

5. beneath naked trees
the rain puddles into mud
masking dreams of spring

6. taking a deep breath
filling up on the 'what ifs'
she coughs violently

7. Blind Assumptions

nobody questions
my gender or my race -- HA!
I'm none of those things

8. battery charge drops
dead phone calls like a lost love
the silence screams sobs

9. December comes home
like a summer storm in May--
thinking about her...

10. there isn't a glue
that can fix a camel's back--
straw hats are flimsy

11. chills run up my spine
I can't stop thinking of you--
a horn on my knee

Skating Through the Holy Roller Rink

I made a few changes...


the pipe organ pulses
through the pews
on a rainy sunday,
hands raised in praise--

the preacher preaches
in his slicked back hair
sure as the devil
he's got somethin' special--

baptized as a baptist
dunking sins away
just like a slam dunk win
at the end--

no oscar for this actress
portraying not adam nor eve
somethin' kinda in between
at the ripe old age of nineteen--

she knew not a single thing
except to live in sin
in the closet hung with clothes
waiting to transpose--

the white double doors
outside the wood framed church
with stained glass windows,
forever in the shadows

of the old life biographer
writing a new history;
where the girl living in transition
finally, embraces religion

Skating Through the Holy Roller Rink

the pipe organ pulses
through the pews
on a rainy sunday,
hands raised in praise--

the preacher preaches
in his slicked back hair
sure as the devil
he's got somethin' special--

baptized as a baptist
dunking sins away
just like a slam dunk win
at the end--

no oscar for this actress
portraying not adam nor eve
somethin' kinda in between
at the ripe old age of nineteen--

she knew not a single thing
except to live in sin
in a closet full of clothes
waiting to transpose--

the white double doors
outside the wood framed church
with stained glass windows
forever in the shadows

of a new dream
for a new world
where the girl living in transition
finally, embraces religion

BeFall

The naked trees watch
the saturating rain

fall from dark skies
before dawn breaks.

Deep moisture rising
into puddles to be splashed

before evaporating
in the afternoon sun.