The spider was watching Cathy finish her cake.

Thank God, it thought, she hasn't seen me
green me hiding in the green grass, it was grinning.

Why are you so scared of me, Cathy?
do I look ugly, mean, harmful?
once I saw me in a dewdrop
on a blade of grass
the reflection was quite majestic
my eyes were dark as the deep sea
held only peace and no malice.

You too are so cute Cathy
a butterfly in the meadow
on the sky a sparkling rainbow
and how I would have loved
spin my web right there
in the thicket of your hair.

Cathy was singing.

It needed her one glance
to see the spider dance.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when delirium is the only thing in my head
I don't know when I **** or wet the bed
my mouths can't open a tube in my nose
takes not but teases the end looming close.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when my legs just wouldn't stand by themselves
can move me nowhere without a hand to help
I don't know when  I would fall on my face
flirts me but fails me that last cold embrace.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when the marks of time are mind crunching pain
the ones around me don't see a gain
in the struggled breaths that force me to live
defer their tears to mourn and grieve.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
I beg to leave before my mind leaves me
before the loved ones ask wearily
O Lord why not spare us the agony
hasten the end let him die quickly.

Just give me
a blindfold
and a cigarette,
or two.

Everything has its own language
-the wind, rain, and snow
Animals, the Sun, and the Moon.

But a poet must enter the language of silence
the language behind all songs
and be content to listen-

Listen until the silence reveals itself
and the poet can sing like the wind, rain, and snow,
Animals, the Sun, and the Moon.

Morning stillness
Away from the rush of the city.
One more minute
Before the day develops.

Stay focused.
Stay true to yourself.
Stay still inside
Away from the city lights.

Peaceful
And tranquil,
No matter what the day brings.

i have not written much about advent, just two things.

yet i know it is here,      felt in   bones;         my soul. i

have no system now to believe  things,                     yet

the reminder comes without warning.                    each

year.

this year

to my own suprise, i find that i still can cry.                  it

is a long time passed. they say our work ,          our souls

are in our chest.

it is not just me

it is          family.

there is no photograph.

sbm.

i came  trembling.         looked for the cloud

from those years ago.                         hidden

in mist,  a white wall .                       no birds

sang.

we are as nothing.

in this place.

sbm.

winter bare her soul.

medieval trees reach up

for solstice and better days.



sing in silence and simplicity.



sing for those in  remembrance .



dark winter bares the soul, those

that believe. sing in silence.



one voice breaks.

dark winter.



sbm

why will i want to or think of it

at all.                      in lower case.



aren’t we all    complementary,

designed with different features

and ramblings, not pausing for

breath.



we live in the country ; know that

all are different, enjoy a good time

overall.



pause.



aren’t we all in this together,     a

question with gritted              teeth

eventualities and commas.



do not worry over things. said this

before.



all together.



the difference could make no difference.



classified.