Why can nobody see her?
She's crouched right over there
Hunched over, cold, forsaken,
Alone by the moving stairs.

Forgotten, cold, hungry,
Gut wrenching despair.
She rocks to and fro as silent tears flow.
At the foot of the moving stairs.

Where has she come from, does anyone care?
What terrors have driven her grief and despair?
Does nobody see her, does nobody care
That she's lost and forsook at the foot of the stairs?

Sometimes it seems just right
To make a brand new start,
A chance to listen closely
To the calling of your heart.

A move so close, yet far away
To a place only you can choose,
A trek towards new horizons
If determined you cannot lose.

More than a pursuit of self
Perhaps to find a better way,
A chance to grow and prosper
And to conquer every day.

So what will be the future?
You can choose to make it bright,
Refuse to let the past dictate
And fight with all your might.

I was there in the beginning on that warm afternoon,
And I was there to serenade her underneath a neon moon...
I was sitting right beside you as you planned your wedding day,
And I played some cheerful tunes when a baby came your way...

I’ve been passed around the kitchen on some stormy winter nights,
And I’ve been called upon to end some very nasty fights...
I was with you on vacation in the Gulf of Mexico,
Where I’ve seen more shenanigans then folks will ever know...

I feel the pain dripping into my veins

Acid falling down like heavy rain

Darkness inside of me does flow

I must not ever let it show

You kick me out of your social reality

I will not contort to your normality

Frozen water, my heart turns into

Now, no love can ever get through

My brain on fire my heart is ice

My body of sin has paid the price

The image of her
exudes in a radiant
soft pink rose bouquet
In the eyes of the love beholder
Sweet scene blooming
after April shower
with a splendor view
she carries herself in
white wedding gown
With her luscious lips of
breathtaking smiling
In a greenish flourish display
Under the warm delight
She embraces it with jubilant and glee
She is not in a hurry to show off her
innate exquisiteness
but move in a graceful showcase
Awaiting to portray
her beauty kind

A whistle follows her down the street
like a puppy going through puberty
Various voices of admiration
aged timber and saplings alike
rustling their leaves and shaking branches

Unaware of the havoc caused by her very presence
she strode straight through the resolve
of every married man on the street
to steal bits of heart, and feed imaginations
let loose in the night

Courtesy Goofus and Gallant
who began their broadly-drawn
moral plays in the 1950s,
initially depicted as identical twins,
but later on, editors for Highlights
indicated the two were brothers,
but not twins, and by 1995,
they simply existed as two unrelated boys.

Analogously, ineptly, and uniformly juxtaposed
slipshod verse best flushed down toilet
or slid down into the behavioral sink
of garbage disposal,
yours truly presents the following
worthless trademark worded poem.

Washing clothes by hand,
Hanging them out on the line,
Laundry done once more.

Jail
A place
I would go
Said the police
To me in the back
Of the policeman’s car
Because of what I had done
An act I would forever hate
New promises that I would now make
To assure me that my actions would change

Your disheveled hair
before ten in the morning,
while taking our first sips of coffee
on the deck with our dogs nearby.

The fragrance of your neck;
especially when it’s not from a bottle.
Delicate, original, and only yours.

Your sadness for old shoes
left in the weather, forgotten and worn,
while trying them on again to give them hope.

And blaming me when an animal is hurt
in a movie neither of us have seen.
Because the universe should speak to me
in advance about such important matters.