composed by yours truly
Life is a dance of balance.
Life is creative falling.
Life is half spent getting back up.
Life is learning to dance with a partner —
and learning to dance without a partner,
and letting go enough to dance in the crowd.
Life is a freestyle jig.
Life is a twirl and a bow.
Life is the best dance you’ve ever danced
and the only chance you’ll get, so dance!
Death is your dancing soul returning to the heavens.
In the dark, glitter is nothing but sand.
I need to get over the hard times of my past. They’ve left scars, but scars are just memories.
If you plant junk food in your body garden, how do you expect to harvest health?
Dear Middle Age,
you fair-weather brute! —
Oh, why don’t you love me
the way I was loved by Youth?
Poetry is reverie on paper. Poets are daydreamers
The best part of happiness is the pines.
Spring doesn’t know
how to spring anymore
because it thinks it’s summer
Autumn can’t fall in line
with seasonal time anymore
because the heat’s still rising
Winter won’t wait
to leaf the trees anymore
because spring too early spirals
A school library is the brightest beacon of youthful hope.
A public library is the brightest beacon of community hope.
A local library is the brightest beacon of global hope.
a new day doesn’t mean
forgetting yesterday
but simply letting it go
not to dwell in memories
but to cherish each one
as it pops up and surprises us
and then release it with a smile
the birds are singing of now
our hearts beat of the present
the past is a muted background
enhancing our carpe-diem lives
dawn paints the scene of today
and invites us to live beautifully
to be the artists of our own souls
Book lovers are better under the covers.
there are only so many poems one can write
about umber tree roots and the glowing moon
before the psyche starts crying out to be heard
the suffering of the world isn’t poetic
but it is essential to poetry
PHOENIX, ARIZONA
* * *
JULY 19
july the nineteenth
overnight low temp
of ninety-seven degrees
* * *
OCTOBER 19
october nineteenth
one hundred and three degrees
climate change is hoax
* * *
NOVEMBER 6
day before winter
ninety-three degrees
summer-autumn in phoenix
* * *
NOVEMBER 8
dear gods of weather —
will it ever rain again
in bone-dry phoenix?
* * *
NOVEMBER 14
now a week into winter
high: eighty-eight F degrees
that’s not fahrenheit
* * *
NOVEMBER 18
i begged & pleaded
for rain but now bemoaning
winter mosquitoes
* * *
DECEMBER 6
really, december:
high of eighty-two degrees?
oh no you didn’t!
* * *
DECEMBER 21
on midwinter day
seventy-seven degrees
a sunburned solstice
* * *