A light cracked the door,
And we heard:
"All rise."
He was experiencing Justice
Behind the glass, in a box.
He scratched and stretched
Skin over his eyes and stubbled face,
Needing a fix for his appearance.
Something was unbalanced
Before me.
Our view was that of figures bending,
Whispering inaudibly,
With ear pieces and muffled mikes,
Suspending us, and time.

At recess we talked of trials and errors,
And recalled the blind man's bluff;
Then someone called us over.

A solemnity plea was set before the judge.
Did he hear:
"Just over the limit...
Machines have a rate of variability..."

He wore no belt or laces,
And probably no socks.
That could make him unbalanced.

"All rise."
Again and again.

I almost fell to my knees,
Pressed and raised my hands
To surrender.

And I was just a witness.

Facebook's not a journal,
Twitter's not a place,
That's the massive problem
With the current human race.

Your mood is not a hashtag,
'Selfie' is spelled with an S,
We're really all addicted,
Which we know, but won't confess.

Our kids will play computers,
They'll be Apple's biggest fans,
But what about the authors,
Who wrote things with their hands?

Dickens, Wilde and Hawthorne,
I'm sure would bear a frown,
For PAPER was the only way,
They wrote their stories down.

You've got me hypnotized
Yea, I know this comes as a surprise
Because my feelings are disguised
Your smile has me mesmerized
Everytime I think of you I get a chill
Knowing you have no clue as to how I feel
For a moment I imagine you're mine
Then I realize it's all in my mind


I admire the qualities of your thoughts
Morals and character many have sought
I want to say more than just hello to you
Tell you I adore and care for you
In a world that's so chaotic
My desire for you is hypnotic
Intoxicated by wisdom and words
My heart's singing various chords
The sound of a sweet melody
Of You and Me


Maybe one day I'll let you know
That I love the way you make me glow
Remembering life before your appearance
But focusing more on your presence
Right now it seems I have no choice
But maybe one day I'll hear your voice
You're the one who sets my soul on fire
Giving me the courage to inspire

Bite
  marks
are
   love
notes
   written
in
   flesh ...
So
   let
me
   bite
you
   hard
and
   make
you
  moan .

This is a poem......
you don't have to read.
You're busy at home
watching Cable TV.
On Twitter or Facebook,
reading all the minuta
that comes down the feed.
My words may be little,
my words may be small.
But, each and every one
of them, I own them all.
Some will take time,
and others will pass by.
These words will be mine,
till the day that I die.....JMF 2/19/15