I wonder if a poem
can cause
you to pause
just at the title
and then sigh
and in wonder why
something so powerful
can be so wonderful
that you forget
to read or need
anything more
beautiful
than this
to cry

I have a heart with a hole
like a strainer in my soul
so I hold to larger hope

I have desires so deep
and the climb is so steep
I hold to a longer rope

I have darkness deep down
fog of fear hides the ground
I hold stronger along the *****

To have and to hold
one thing I am told
you have just enough hold
to cope.

I’m just a broken man
and broken, yes, I  am.
It’s nothing new, I’m just old.
Ever since I was young I’d been told,
”It’s the boy with the crack”,
and that fine line around my soul
formed the piece, I now lack
and I became,
‘The boy with the hole’

All along they would say
“Hey, boy with the missing piece,
I’d like a part, if that’s okay,
and can I take one please?”
and they'd take what they can
and break what they would
left me less than the man I was
holding only to what I could

Now, they point about
at the piece from my breast
where my heart fell out
from that hole in my chest.
They watch and laugh
and waiting perhaps,  
to steal another piece
and watch me collapse.

Yet still standing strong
though I’ve a hole in my head
“Just keep that  brain bigger”,
my father once said.
“Beware my son,
for one thing is true,
everyone will want to take
a piece of you”

I am that memory
you try to leave behind
I am what you almost forget
I rewind my eye
and stare back
I am that blink you can’t bare
and regret

“I’m so high, I can fly”,
said the butterfly
“I’m so low I can glow”,
said the worm
And together, the two
one lit, one flew
and arrayed the earth
below and high

Wait, hold up
Did she actually say she loved me?

Wait, hold on
Are they actually our kids?

Wait till next appointment
Are they actually the results?

Wait, give me a sec
Was that life that just passed us by?

we are wound
all the way back
before being pulled apart
we are clicking like a timer
we are beating like a heart
we’re afraid to over stay
So we say, “we can’t”
yet ”goodbyes”we delay
and hardly move apart
we tinker and tanker
with ”thanks” and “see ya later”
but the sooner you let go
now and then whenever after
we always come back
to “hey” and “hello”

Inside my garden is a little book
It’s pages grow me flowers
each scent of smell
my soul knows well
the fragrance and its powers

Each page I turn
from fauna and fern
I guard the garden that is mine
from the chapter on ****
and the sachet of seed
between the cover and the spine

Strong men who sleep while men die
are like big beautiful mansions, settled on the quiet hills of a graveyard, vacant, while dead bodies lay outside.

When a woman loves a man
She is patient
She knows he’s built like a factory
And there’s certain parts of him that won’t work
But he’s working
And bringing the steam
so she can be warm
Unlike her, a garden, she is beautiful in all seasons, her soil is soft and clean
But he, gets ***** like a machine
When a woman loves a man
She understands the grease
And loves all of him even if she can’t hold him
Sometimes when he cries
It’s just a broken pipe, he’s trying to figure out beneath a bonnet
It’s not because he’s no longer in love
He’s just searching.
When a woman loves a man
She makes him feel like he’s the fire in her heart and she knows he needs to feel just as safe as she is.
When he’s quiet, she gives him air.
He’s just thinking.
He can’t believe he’s loved
with all his defects and loose cogs
and how can any woman love him
like you.

Universal imagery
to illiterate lovers
pressed hearts
❤️💕💝
and kisses
🥰😘😍
And an array
💐🌹🌷
of flowers
In pings and dings
love on the fly
waiting for
that silent read
...
hope for
that quick reply

I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening,
I was too busy trying to get this down.

“Wow”
said the cow
and, “Wow”, “Wow”
say another two
And if,
“Wow”, “Wow”, Wow”
say another three
Then what should you do?
Please reply
with, “Moo”
for that’s what
a cow should do
“Moo”, “Moo”, “Moo”
even four
‘moos’ or more
Until no cow with ‘wow’
Is heard
among the herd
Anytime now
or evermore

If, “Laa”
says the Ewe
and “Laa”,  “Laa”
say another two
...then three, and so on...
you know,
somethings wrong.
Please reply with “Baa”
and as many ‘Baa’s’
you need to
But keep to a few,
and keep it at that
Unless you hear,
“MooWow”
and it’s coming
from the cat

I wonder why
in all the world
clouds can never hold the rain

When every thought in my head
clouds my thinking
and my brain

I wonder why
when I cry
my tears fall like rain

When clouds grow grey in the storm
yet my heart grows black
with pain

I found a fine grain of sand
from a broken hour glass
I took hold of the opportunity  
held that second that may pass
enclosed, within my fingers
I turned it to an hour that defined
that single moment that matters
when you make the most of your time

I found a grain of salt
from a tear falling down
I held the face of sadness
on an occasion to fight the frown
enclosed within my fingers
I turned sorrow into a smile
every caress and kind touch matters
when burdens battle for a while

I found a grain of rice
from a hole in a sack
I carried the cares of another
for those with a broken back
I enclosed within my fingers
a single piece to make one whole
every seed or seasoning will matter
when it’s food for the soul

I find me, but a grain
In a fragmented broken world
holding like the dust
to the wind and the whirl
Yet, I hold all things within my fingers
the opportunity to power on
the chance for change and freedom
before I’m dead and before I’m gone