Thursday, April 24, 2008

The rose

The bloom is off the rose,
too late, too late.
Should have made hay with the sunshine,
now it's rotting in the field.

The bloom is off the rose,
too late, too late.
You've made your bed,
and if your bedfellows are strange,
you've got to lie in it now.

The bloom is off the rose,
too late, too late.
I remember when your passing sparked a reflexive surge of hormones, but
the bloom is off the rose.

Friday, April 18, 2008


Springtime in the Adirondacks,
when car roofs sprout kayaks & canoes.

Winter into Spring

Winters are the tears that make Spring days happy.
Elation is a loon cruising the open water near shore while ice remains, darkening as it melts, across a lake.

Monday, April 14, 2008

Alone with Nature

I used to commune with nature with careful observation,
feeling I could almost discerne life's hidden meaning.
I used to hear nature calling out to me.
I used to feel its vibrant beat.
I used to look through eyes with wonder at the relationships beyond my perception, barely beyond.
I used to . . .

But now, it is too rare that I see, I feel, I sense these things.
Nature's life force is still there
but I fear it is something to which I am becoming blind.

Perhaps, on an other day,
I shall see, feel, sense these things once more.

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Chicago, A Love Story

It was a cold & misty night,
not unlike tonight,
when my heart was ripped asunder,
painful as a first love's crush,
by the closeness of you.
We stood, orange light casting weird shadows, bare branches in the mist.
We stood, leaning against the harsh concrete of a footbridge,
struggling against the pain of untouchable love,
railing against the unfairness of the human condition and the vagaries of fate.
We stood.

Chicago. Early spring.
When I learned I could still care deeper for another more than life itself;
And the start of the best & worst thing that has ever happened to me in my life.
Portend of soaring heights I'd never known.
Portal to depths from which I've yet to fully escape.

Only love has that kind of power,
to make you eternally grateful for having experienced it,
even while you hold your heart in your hand after it was ripped, still beating, from your chest by that very same love.

Friday, April 04, 2008

Sensitive Men

Sensitive men,
painted by the broad brush of stereotype
by the women we'd hope to love.
Is that what keeps us up at night?
Searching? Seaking? Yearning?
KEEping you ON THE defensive, COUCHing everything you say in "safe" terms?

My Life Theme Songs

Theme songs for my life, in approximate life order::
The Joker • Steve Miller
She Blinded me with Science • Thomas Dolby
The Boys of Summer • Don Henley
Lord of the Starfields • Bruce Cockburn
Deepest Part of Me • Dougie McLean

Friends & Family

You find the true nature of your friends & family when you ask for a real favor.
What is that flavor?
A bitter taste in the heart,
stuck back at the start.

And you learn, in life,
that all the enjoyment comes from what you take out of each situation.
Friends, and family, they will let you down.
And that, I guess, is life.
Enjoy it when and while you can.

Take life at its surface, it doesn't always run any deeper.
Are you there because you are wanted or simply because "there" is where you want to be?
Try not to think about it. . .
it is a dark circle.