Archive # 27


Where is happiness?
In the hearts we make glad, and
the souls we comfort.


Do you twiddle thumbs
or just go on Facebook when
boredom overwhelms?


If you twist my arm …
then my shoulder will pop out …
but never mind that.


Where-ever I go,
I feel I am at home, which
makes me laugh sometimes.


Obviously, she’s
fishing for a compliment …
get me off the hook.


How do you quiet
the voices in your head that
always criticize?


Anticipation …
and then, the day arrives and
You step to the plate.


Some situations
won’t resolve themselves until
you change your mind-set.


It’s often said that
mischief stalks the mundane to
make it more human.


Brightly colored flags
flapped happily in the breeze;
quite a stirring sight!


While the music played,
he tried to think of the words,
but his mind was blank.


Dreams may never die,
but hopes can be defeated,
when you do not dream.


In the realm of dreams,
visions come, emotions go,
and answers are found.


Mom was smiling,
as her young son danced with glee.
(He found a quarter.)
Running on empty,
he found a closed gas station
and while waiting, slept.
He had to stop and
take in the view when he reached
Ausable Chasm.
tanka haiku: Take away my pain,
and range of motion issues …
who do I become?

  Am I who I was before?
  Or have I learned something new?

Comfy and cozy
and wrapped in a patchwork quilt
she sipped some hot soup.
Is there any point,
in arguing about this?
it’s spelled with a “Q”.
He rushed to get there,
flashed his Press credentials, and
entered the crime scene.
Do you remember
our first date? Your dad drove us
to the junior prom.
Imagine her shock;
the room was filled with empty
soda pop bottles.
The doctor is in,
the receptionist is out.
will you get your ‘scrips?’
Juggling toothpicks
is not as hard as it looks …
(nothing ever is.)
Not a day goes by
that I don’t think of you and
regret what happened …
At the sandwich shop,
the boy wearing flip-flops slipped
on some spilled mayo.
Then the blushing bride
ripped off her clothes and whispered,
“Wanna consummate?”
She did not know why
her mom was so fatigued … then
she had her own kids.
That man is staring,
Is it me? Does he hate me?
Well, back to the shrink.



“Where are you waiting?”
“I’m over by the pretzels.”
“Next to the fruit stand?”
    “Yeah, I’m squeezin’ some melons.”
    “Okay, have fun, see you soon.”


Bonus poems:
I wrote these poems late one night almost 30 years ago.  I was attending a weekend workshop for performers and one of the participants was an accomplished dancer, whose dance performance inspired me to go home and write.  I shyly gave the dancer a copy of it the next day, and she said she was flattered, but I never saw her after that weekend, and to tell the truth, I now don’t even remember her name.   I’ve never shared these publicly before because … I honestly can’t decide whether they’re decent enough or they really really stink.  
On Glimpsing Terpsichore – pt. 1
bowed low
knees flexed
head tilted
eyes sparking
the gamine
womanly sure
she glides
softly glides
spins the air
and turns
scissor kicking
her arms swing out
her body lifts
her muscles
power her flight
and quietly
guide her leaps
through music
moist with meaning
her waist contracts
her body bends
her face invites
with coyish glint
her girlish smile
her womanly suggestion
and then
she moves on
to rage
to fear
her loss is clear
a love denied
etched in motion
she pauses
fluid strokes
invoke the gods
and then again
she worships joy
and sows such seeds
with moments frozen
each conveys
her body’s wishes
inside out her essence shines
for all to see
she is what all of us
to be and have
to know and cherish
overcoming and / or overlooking
my own petty problems
I fall in love
how could I not?
I’m compelled by forces
that she’s unleashed and which I don’t fully understand …
while she simply dances on …

On Glimpsing Terpsichore – pt. 2

falling sparks from magic lightning
trace circles in the sky
and strike my head without a warning
then burrow in to save my soul
my eyes expand to beauty’s wonder
and life is looked at very slow
I pray these sparks may never ebb and
now cold, grey embers gone and buried
in my mind like nursery rhymes
pay witness to a million dramas
never seen and never written,
due to foolish hesitation,
and my watching embers glow.

in a woodland scene with fairies romping
muses with their wands held high
trace bright white circles of magic lightning
in the darkly dappled sky
they watch as sparks then fall to earth
and smile widely for the dawn is nigh.

joyfully they sprinkle sparks
which fall to earth for everyone
in abundance and good spirits
unconcerned by their own situation
they bless us all with inspiration.

On Glimpsing Terpsichore – pt. 3

“why are we here?” I asked the Muse,
to which, she replied forthwith,

“how would I know?”

“well, how would you NOT know?”

“dear one”, she said, “I’m simply a creature of myth.
my job is providing the spark.
you’re the one fanning embers into fires
to try to shed light upon that which was dark.

then, she turned, and just before leaving, she winked, and then whispered …

“my embers encourage, your fires persuade …
gather much kindling, and your thoughts will not fade.”
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