Living in grief is like being in a dark forest, the tall trees are all around
The mist rises up and spreads over everything to shroud the ground.

Filtering and diffusing the little bit of light
Hiding the details and inhabiting the night

Knowing that the forest is still very green
Although thoughts and sorrows hinder what is seen.

Off in the distance some clear view emerges
A crisp open view the sun warms and sorrow purges

There was joy in this forest as there is in the distance
Both places have meaning and form my existence.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 01/17/14

I’m gonna ban the phrase “a wannabe poet”
A poet writes poetry, good or bad
If you’re one or the other you probably know it.

I can put pen to paper and push out the words
Any alternative is just absurd
The ink don’t make it a poem
The pen don’t make it a poem
The fingers don’t make it a poem
The poet makes it a poem
And I know it

I can be a wannabe gangster
I can be a wannabe sharpshooter
I can be a wannabe dog trainer
I can’t be a wannabe poet
If I am writing a poem
I’m a poet
And I know it

I’ve been a poet ever since I wrote my first poem
Something about this life being just an instant in eternity
Who coulda guessed I’d be so profound
in the middle of the night
When that poem was found
Bouncing around in my head
The words told me how,
They just said
Come out and be a poem right now

I may still not know all I wanna be
But this poet things just stuck inside of me
The words don’t always just flow
Any good writer has to know
Time and practice and a random phrase
Turn into some words on a page
Some write of summer sun or winter snow
Sometimes words just know where to go
Mediocre, or so and so, or truly inspired
All come together whether alert or tired
Just pay attention to rhythm and words that flow together
Like none before or after have gathered
We can be poets for all of our days
We wanna, we gotta, we’re just made that way

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/08/13

Omar’s Rubaiyet
Neither sky nor earth answers
Drink wine and feel fine
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/01/13

This is one of those times when we’re blowing wind through the mustard seeds.
We scatter our hopes across the fields of life.
Like a tenacious oak sprout, we don’t know what the future may hold.
All we know is that the thing to do is push through the dirt and reach for the sky.
All we hope for is sunshine and water and the breeze of God’s breathe to blow through our world to make this effort bear fruit.
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/08/2013

Winter birds jumping
Fighting for food with themselves
Confounding they’re search
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/15/14

Full Moon with the mists
Moving in the western sky
Cold crisp blue new day
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/19/13

Icarus ascends
Orion runs swiftly
Which falls from the sky?
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><> 12/26/13