Awoke full rested,
In cozy bed nested,
And sudden awareness,
My heated heart,
Undulating,
Unnaturaly,
Rhythmically synchronicity with the gentle lapping
Of the genteel,
Well behaving, quieting waves,
Of Shelter Island Bay,
On the shores of
Silver Beach

7/21/25
8:22am

"wish everyone was loved tonight
And somehow stop this endless fight
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days"

Better Days by the Goo Goo Dolls
<>
Yeah yeah. Dating myself.
Some reason find myself listening to the GGD,
(A less embarrassing initialization)
Heard it a thousand times,
Classic easy listening rock.
A sweet wish, everybody knows, ain't gonna happen>
But, In my hand, a -perfecta summer day,
Steady sun, genteel sea breeze, low humidity,
The insects tolerate a shooing away, go easy and disappear,
House empty, everyone doing something and
You know where I am, tip~tapping on my iPad,
Yup, in that room, where poems are fan circulated,
And fall, freely, from the wood ceiling directly
Onto screen, my only job, to screen
The screen for typoes and other such minor inconveniences

There is no time to calculate,
No time to measure, no errors to complete that can't be undone,
And To mourn,
And the Angels have come in silently,
The day so fine, their human side,
Returns for a sun tan and the heat that heals
Burns, wounds, fissures, and even stalling
Out the growth of the bad cells our bodies
Con~tain;
They do not run nor hide,,
whispering I am too pessimistic,
And the Day will bleed into sunfall,
With colors sublime and god designed,
And if ever there was an evening
That the possibility greatest that
tonight
Everyone could be loved,
Even me,
Even you,
Even us,
The air has harmonies in the air flow,
And tonight, will be the time
When we all remember with a sly grin.
that we commence by loving oneself,
And then cell splitting,
and saliva sharing,
following tears and sweat,
and cradling arms
will entwine
Only Love Poems

~For Mr. Lawrence Hall~
<>

you sure?
Now for sure I'm no expert, though did read the New Testament
Cover to cover, all in one sitting, for a Jesuit priest buddy,
yes my taste in friends is
Eclectic, like my poems, slightly at the fat tail of an
Abnormal curve,
i.e. turn my curse into a blessing,
Anyway, it strikes me that Jesus,
spent his time, full-time,
Solving for X,
and showed quIte an
imaginative thought/belief process,
And great creativity,
To obtain his answers...
Hoping I'm offending no one...unintentional for sure,
he is a
Heroic figure, kind and forgiving, what's not to like?

But he solved problems, multi variate, non linear, imaginatively,
Never threw  in the towel on the truly complex, though., he never perceived himself as a mathematician, indeed his life was eXactly
That, solving humanity for the X,
the humanity in us,
So yeah,  he didn't just say solve for X,
He just went about his day, solving solving solving...
salving, salving...

"With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow@With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about
today until tomorrow"

lyric, Mr Tambourine Man,
Bob Dylan
<>

Rebel troubadour, always resrless, asking the obvious,
with answers readily apparent,
yet no one knows them out loud

Here we are,
two old Jews,
crossing paths at our shared six point star,
we aware, we know, that the
questions will likely be there tomorrow,'for they
have always there come the morn,

so we do not raise our voices anymore,
indeed,
the questions grow up best when asked softly softly,
and the answers,
blowing in the wind,
are clearest, sharpest obvious when
whispered,

So,
~forget about today till tomorrow,
until tomorrow comes no more~

And is this an only love poem?
To be sure,
Be sure.

For only love is the bridge between yesterday,
Today, and Tomorrow,
No matter what!

Woulda that I was a woulda owner,
Woulda that “coulda” was never doable,
World where woulda the only suffices,
Wishes woulda all come true, and we
Woulda
correctly state it this way:

*woulda, woulda...woulda!

wounded heart

punctured heart, pinhole big,
pain rushes in, as loves leaks out
nature abhors a vacuum

a wounded heart
has both rights and wrongs
our wrongs, were all ill timed,
our rights, never strong enough...

now they want surgery, a transplant,
denial tho my first line of defense, can’t,
because even this imperfect heart is
the only one that loved her, albeit imperfectly,
and that, that is better than a new heart that
never knew the meaning of love for her!