Withhold my weighty heart, anchored in the depths of hell.

An expensive watch does not make time, precious, but time spent with someone precious makes it invaluable.*- Amitav

mister ant,
on that rubber plant,
carrying a load of cheese souffle.

found on the ground,
fallen from dinner plate
and landed on kitchen slate,

please, do enjoy your plunder
from down under,
wooden table

we suggest it be paired,
with a reisling after airing
if your able.

we hope you enjoy your meal
for your dessert,
we have some fresh apple peel.

And I choose to breathe


And I choose to breathe for every breath is free
Calmly bound of tempted drizzled fears
Slow dancing on the desperate dying wind
Placing endless hope against the flow

This does come
beyond iron gates of broken trances
to sing
undying wishes upon the deaf ears

Fractured in meanings and senses known,
these wrinkles form a flavored mask
Donned in apprehension of a wilted feeling
Sleek and slender, along a poisoned vine they grow

Challenging
in endless streams of sorted need
Stead fast
with chains of charmed tethered truth

Cartoon headstones with scribbled crayon’d names
cast darker shadows beneath the edges of sanity
Ripped and tattered these empty voices scream
my name in echoes bearing nothing more than seen

As I cry
my tears sprout wings and flee from my face
to my knees
finding only the jagged earth to rest

Desires cling to the massive arbors of life
Dreams falter along a winding creviced cliff
Nothing laughs like the air upon my sorrowed face
and I choose to breathe for every breath is free

~

Naked?

On an island
in the midst of the crowded street
Traffic lights blink
as colored tear drops hit the pavement

One way signs
all seem to point in your direction
casting aspersions,
via black and white arrows

Sidewalks filled
with throngs of gawking onlookers,
mouths wide open,
peering from the side of their faces

You hang your head,
chin against your unclothed chest
and you see
not one, but two shadows on the asphalt

Suddenly you are
draped in the finest cloth money can buy,
shielded from the audience
who now divert their attention elsewhere

Turning, you see a friend,
naked, as his clothing now adorns your body
waving to the crowd
proclaiming…I have faced the same fate

Bitter winter winds have broken
into biting rains - it's soaking
earthen muck, 'neath unsure footing,
inebriated lush.
As I took my leave of gathered
friends and spirits, nothing mattered.
My farewell you found off-putting,
Saw you start to blush.

The simple act of placing lips
against your tender fingertips
would find you fleeing up the stairs.
Just turn and walk away.
Unspoken token, affection
of a deepening connection.
Not one word said, not one soul cares,
but I can't look away.

I wait and watch you disappear
through the fading smoke and mirrors.
I thought one day you'd call again,
never ending silence
echoes out the only mistake
that I'd ever admit to make,
for on that night I lost a friend.
Self-inflicted silence.

~

At my expense


Sawdust coated planks of worn grain and smooth edges find
toes tapping inside hard brown leather shoes,
not polished since Sunday’s *** luck
allowing scuffs formed on lonely sidewalks
to glow beneath the lights, suspended over head

The din of the crowd plays to my nerves, (I peek from the side)
Aunt Lucy’s pleated skirt moves involuntarily
with her words as she gossips to anyone who will listen
Politicians shake hands as they take the prime seats,
balding heads blocking views and causing children to giggle

Sweat beads, runs, drips on my rented suit,
speckles of gray on white linen, charging the heat
with reckless abandon as creases relax
and I adjust my belt with the precision
of the previous wearer

Thick fabric, paisley and purple, stained by age but still
magnificent in appearance, hide me from the gathering
of locals and visitors alike…when I hear the band ring up,
happy go lucky music brings this sense of urgency
to my ever quickly beating heart

Stage hands bounce back and forth and a thumbs up
lets me know it is time…
music reaches a crescendo as the curtain lifts skyward
and I am faced with the reality that has all to often been a dream
and then a nightmare

I step to the front, clear my throat,
begin counting the many eyes staring at me,
searching for greatness, brilliance, charm
and I read my poem…penned the day I lost you,
the day my heart shattered, the day my world ended

No applause today, as I stand on this sad stage
gazing at gaping mouths, wide-eyed disappointment
and I pray the curtain drops as quickly as it rose
allowing the comedian to rescue the audience with
his offering of humor…at my expense

When does a poem first become a poem
The moments it's read
or the second it's born?
When it takes its first breath
on the page it adorns?
When does a poem first become a poem

When does a poem first become a poem
When it finds the right rhyme
no longer feeling alone?
When it sits on the porch
of the old poets home?
When does a poem first become a poem

When does a poem first become a poem
When it takes out the blade
and carves its message in stone?
Or tears the fabric of time
on the lesser known?
When does a poem first become a poem