Unfinished

We live and lose without knowing why
but we continue on because it is what we do.
The pain must mask something to make
it more bearable, otherwise we'd only function.
Life sucks us into the black void.

If we never knew that which spoils,
we would never appreciate the gold.
Even so, experience need not be so cruel.
Unusual punishment has long been outlawed
yet, our emotions still resort to torture.

A Day

Rarely does a day go so totally right
that we can't help but smile our way
through the hours. Most often, things
go a little wrong and sour the mood.

If we could reverse engineer the process
and re-do some of the ills, maybe an apple
would help the experiment, we could laugh
away the evils in their tenacious audacity.

Wink at the next one and blink away trouble.
Strive for pleasantry and enjoyment; the next
corner holds the secret to contentment. Have
a better day by design. Enjoy tomorrow, too.

Masquerade

Two days of frustration
wears thin on my patience
as I struggle to move forward.
A simple count should never
change costume midstream.

A masquerade is only fun
as long as there is mystery.
Carry the charade too far,
and temperatures will rise
causing the blood to simmer.
Beware, lest the pot boil.

Take Me

Take me into your bed
and become my blanket;
warm my body with yours.
Trace my curves gently
with tongue and fingers;
be firm with what is yours.

Show some tenderness
to my sensitive areas--
my ears, nose, and eyes.
Flutter your lashes
knowingly and I will
respond in kind.

Slowly lower yourself
into my welcoming pool.
We will swim aloft.
The stars await our arrival
amidst the cloud and moon.
Stay with me tonight.

Hidden Talent

May the darkness swallow me whole;
I don't want to be visible any more.
Hide my discomfiture behind the clouds
let me roam the universe alone in peace.

Never have I been welcomed with open arms.
More I have been shunned as different.
Handicapped by unseen forces, reactions
only reinforce innate inhibitions.

Blend me into the surrounding night
where stars hold the attention of gazers.
Slather face paint on my ghost-white flesh
as camouflage in the forces of nature.

Wake me with the gentle stirrings of sun
so I may slither away into my facade.
Let the day begin with my dis-appearance
in the midst of everyday bustle of my life.

Round Robin Sonnet (Final?)

Her family fell apart when father left,
successors never reached his memory;
mother and children were a bit bereft.
Daddy had become an allegory.

She caught her man in a different way;
shotgun wedding, the first mistake was made.
Mom and babes narrowly escaped that fray
to a gentler man who came to their aid.

Six darlings later, she finally learned
the deep secrets of her fertility.
Her husband, though, had already earned
champion title for virility.

One little spermatozoon was so strong;
quickly broke the rubber and proved her wrong.

Round Robin Sonnet

She so loved her father before he left,
his successors, a grasp at memory;
mother and children were a bit bereft.
Daddy had become an allegory.

She caught her man in a different way;
shotgun wedding, the first mistake was made.
Mom and babes narrowly escaped that fray
to a gentler man who came to their aid.

Six darlings later, she finally learned
the deep secrets of her fertility.
Her husband, though, had earlier earned
champion title for virility.

One little spermatozoon was so strong;
broke the rubber and proved her oh so wrong.

8 lines (old flame)

I watched him walk away unaware
that I was there, an observer.
Even his walk had attitude.
His t-shirt, tucked into his pocket,
moved with him as he made his jaunty way
up the street away from me.
I was the bull in the arena;
he was my matador.

Round Robin 1 (Sonnet - draft)

She loved her father before he left;
his successors, a grasp at memory;
mother and child were a still bereft.
Daddy had become an allegory.

She caught her man a different way;
by shotgun, the mistake was made.
Mom and babes escaped that fray
to another man who gave them aid.

Six darlings later, she hadn't learned
the secrets of her fertility.
Her husband, though, had early earned
a champion title for virility.

One little darling wasn't so strong;
it was something that God did wrong.

Round Robin 1 (working toward Sonnet)

She loved her father before he left.
His succesors were a grasp at memory;
mother and child were a still bereft.
Daddy had become an allegory.

She caught her man a different way
by using a shotgun to make it right.
Before long she knew she could not stay;
but, she couldn't go without a fight.

She found a man to share her life.
It was never easy, but they had kids;
she excelled at mother and played at wife.
The bills were paid with barely a quid.

Six darlings later, she hadn't learned
the well-known secrets of fertility.
Her husband, though, had early earned
a champion title for virility.

One little darling wasn't so strong;
it was something that God did wrong.

Round Robin 1

She remembers her father before he left.
The string of men who faded his memory
made mother and child a bit bereft.
Daddy had become an allegory.

She caught her man a different way;
did the shotgun thing to make it right.
It wasn't long before she couldn't stay
only she knew there would be a fight.

She found a man to share her life.
It was never easy, but they had kids;
she excelled at mother and played at wife.
The bills were paid with barely a quid.

Six darlings later, she hadn't learned
the well-known secrets of fertility.
Her husband, though, had early earned
a champion title for virility.

I Never Forgot

I never forgot how straight he stood.
Those years in the military gave him
an undeniable presence and he knew it.

Years earlier, I watched him walk away
unaware that I was there. Even his walk
had attitude. His t-shirt was tucked
into his back pocket and moved with him
as he made his purposeful way up the street.

After all these years, I remember it still.

Even today, he has a smile reserved for me.
I walk into the room after work and his whole
being shows delight and that smile warms me.
That same smile was one of the attractions
so long ago, before we knew of the other things.
It makes me feel special to know he cares.

After all these years, I still make a difference.

Teenage Years

I met him years ago
at the rink. It almost
did not happen; she
would not skate with him--
that left me.

Funny how things work out--
her loss, my gain.

The next day, he rode
through my neighborhood
and found me walking home
from tutoring. We talked
until his dinner bell rang.

I was late getting home--
he was, too.

Over time, we get together
and break up again. Always,
we'd gravitate back. We did
my sweet sixteen and Homecoming.
And, we'd break up again.

I think our time apart
was meant to be.

He came to say goodbye
when he was being shipped
overseas. I wasn't seeing
him then, but I saw him any way.
And, he left my life again.

He parked outside my house
late one night, Mom saw him.

I called and wrote, but too late.
He'd gone back to California.
Please forward my messages.
Someone heard me and did.
He came home for me.

We've been together
ever since.

Shadows

I'm at home in the shadows
where my presence is ignored.
I step forward when need demands.
Call me a nosy bitch if you must
but I trust my own advice better
than that of some youngster.

My shadow comforts me in its cloak
when anonymity rules the day.
There's no need to call attention
to myself; I'd rather be a recluse.
Just sometimes, I need to be heard--
I step forward on paper and pen.

A Vicku

attention clamors
away in my brain
thoughts torture me for release
rational behavior fades
paint seeps colors
across my blank face

Inspiration

Pictures, especially black and white,
call to my inspirational nature. I can
spool stories about the nothings I don't
know. I can make one believe it is mine.

Nature, as in the gorgeous watercolors
I observe from my window to the world,
calls my name on occasion. It speaks
to a grander scheme than I belong.

Stories catch my fancy and transport
me to places I would never wander myself.
I can explore the life after without
leaving the comfort of my existence.

Words spill from the inkwell, spread
across the page, and relate beautiful
landscapes that have no basis in my own
reality. Fiction is the word today.

Poetic Dance

Shall we dance to the music
of your words? We can sway
to the rhythm of syllables
and glide across the white space.

We must dip at the end of lines
and pause a time or two. Our
bodies know the language.
Listen to the melody of your mind.

Our movements are smooth, sinewy.
We are a waltz in the making
with long, graceful strides
across a high-gloss floor.

Speak to me of nothing
in layers of color images.
Let us write the lines
of our dance across the page.

Crystal of Life

As I clear the spidery cobwebs
from my dormant brain, I realize
that life is fragile. Handle with care.
Like a fine piece of discontinued crystal,
it is priceless in its similarity
to the rest of the set. Once shattered,
the set becomes scarred forever.

We cannot glue the pieces together
as the seams will show and water
will seep through the cracks. Splinters
of glass cut deep and powder of dust
burns the skin like salt in the wound.
The loss is insurmountable. Never
again will that set be complete.

Over time, we might be inclined
to replace the pieces with others.
Perhaps another pattern will do.
Regardless, it will never be the same.
We can only substitute one for another;
We can never replace what has been lost--
nor should we want to. Handle with care.

Chocolate

Chase your dreams
Home. Find her waiting,
Open arms, to kiss away
Chaos. She'll guilt you
Only afterward, but then
Lovers like her
Aren't indulgent.
True temptation must be
Eaten slowly and savored.

My Day...May Day

Show me some silliness
just to make me laugh
since medicine
is what I need.

I spent the day
in a boardroom
hearing statewide stuff
indirectly related to me.

It is all about the company.
If the company succeeds,
we succeed. Show me
that success in the form
of cash.

I'm tired of breaking
my spirit and rubbing
my eyes just to give
more than I have--for you.
Yes, it is my job,

but you owe me big time.

Some Days

Some days, I'm too tired for playful.
I want quiet reflection and attention
instead. Put your hand on my knee
as you sometimes do just to let me
know you're there, as I am.

Gentle touches of understanding
suit me fine. Don't grapple for my
affections, I might run away.
Keep it simple and low key. You
know I care; I've only had enough.

Caress my cheek and scratch my spine.
You'll have me wanting more on these
days without any outright display.
I'm not in the mood for fun and games;
I'm home with you, let that suffice.

Donna

She'd been in that hospital bed
for months. She'd lost both legs
to Peripheral Vascular Disease.
In a semi-coma, she was pushed
into a corner and maintained.

Somewhere along the way, her brain
registered the inattention. She
was always a commanding presence
in her size, voice, and demeanor.
She was not used to being ignored!

She was in Colorado, we were here.
Her sister called to let us know
the state of Donna. She spoke of us
fondly and wondered if we might
write or call just to show we cared.

Her recovery was amazing. She even
talked of a job offer she'd had. After
all that time in the hospital, without life
and limb, she improved. At first, nursing
facilities were the best choices.

We spoke a few times. She was the same
as I remembered. She has since passed on
but more in keeping with her old self.
Dying alone in a hospital corner
was not Donna's style--not at all.

Give Me a Break

Through blurry eyes, I attempt
the simplest of tasks. I get
no cooperation from technology
and no satisfaction from myself.

What was a simple idea on paper
took hours to accomplish; I haven't
finished yet. My deadline pending
on the morrow looks very evil.

We have to love the challenge
that takes everything we have
and gives little in return. Until
we master the unsinkable.

Grant me the persistence to begin
again another day. Give me hope
that today was the worst. Let me
stand on the brink of genius

and get this job done!