SUBLIME WEEKEND

After a tumultuous week of war and destruction and pain. Here is something to take you elsewhere. BE WELL my LinkedIn family.

Trust

I come to you naked

With my eyes closed,

My palms open wide

My only gift is me!

Now answer me again,

Why do you love me?

Quilt

Make me a quilt

A carnival quilt

Colorful

Rich

Alive with colors dancing in my head

Make me a quilt

A carnival quilt

A patchwork of joy and wonderful celebration

And I will dance with you forever

We Meld

As we come together,

We are one

We kiss deeply

As our bodies,

As hot as smoldering steel

With erotic passion,

Coursing thru our pores

We meld together

No space between us,

Not even air

We are one at last

— never to separate ever again

Steep Hill

A steep hill to climb

The challenge of loving you

The challenge of meeting all your expectations

How do I accomplish these enormous tasks?

Am I strong enough?

How is my perception?

—My anticipation?

How do I reciprocate to the gifts of love you offer?

I have my doubts I can meet the challenge

I lack the strength

My heart is destroyed

My emotions are ravished; overwrought

I am no longer intuitive

I find it difficult to give of myself freely

Maybe I should turn away from this steep hill

Before I am pulled into the quagmire that is your love,

—Because I have no energy to complete the climb

Gift

If I would offer you a gift

A gift of my love

How would you receive it?

Would you recognize it?

—Or not?

Would you welcome it with open arms?

Would you reciprocate?

Would you abuse it?

Would you help it grow?

And grow,

And grow?

Or would you milk it ‘til it is no more

Would you not water it?

or, nurture it to help it bloom

In the middle of winter,

When there is only numbing cold

With dead trees

And dead love

What would you do with my love?

Answer me now

So that I know

Chasm

I lean with great depredation

As I stand over the wide, deep, dark bottomless chasm of my life

The wind howls, screaming your name at me

Painful screams, echoing loudly and clearly;

And even thru the howling winds and bitter cold

I hear your name loudly!

My bones ache from the bitter cold

Though I am cloaked tightly in your love

Thru the fog of it all, I see you

Shaped by the fog, blown about by the howling wind,

Shivering — shivering from the biting cold

You are alone and afraid

I extend my arms beyond their own meager limits to reach for you

As you fall into the dark deep bottomless chasm

With the wind howling and still screaming your name

Afraid, desperate, I step off into this abyss to save you,

And, to save my own miserable life

For this is, and will be my only and last hope

This Road

Come walk with me down this road with me

A road less travelled

Where the weeds sprout from the many cracks in its worn pavement

Where the boundaries are not well defined

Come, walk with me

Where politicians,

And preachers,

And community leaders,

And money changers of all stripes,

And crooks of all hues and shades dare not travel!

It is a road of discovery

A road where only revolutionaries travel

A road where bold, new, creative ideas are discussed

A road where there is excitement and longing with each step you take

A road where friendship and true love blossoms

A road for action!

?Come with me

Take my hand

And let us pick our way forward

Thru the weeds of our lives

Let us walk together

A fountain of life’s blessings awaits us

at the end of this road less travelled

Windy

The violent wind rushing by me,

Clogging my ears,

Blinding my eyes,

Filling my mouth with dirt and debris,

So that I can’t see your beautiful face,

Or, hear your melodic voice,

Or, even say hello

Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time

So very long ago

A girl with flowers in her hair

Put her hand in mine

And made me fall in love with her

And now I am lost

Because she is gone

And this was once upon a time

So very long ago

And now I dream of her

Each night and each day

Of her smiling face

And warm caress

And sweet sighs when we loved each other

But this was once upon a time

So very long ago

And now I sing the song

“Once upon a time,

It never comes again”

Shine

Don’t look for me.

Shine your light

Like a beacon in the darkest night,

Just shine!

and I will find you

Not Hate

Hate is energy wasted

Like precious food

Thrown away in the face of a hungry child

Love

Love comes early in the morning

—Open your front door and let it pour in

Just like sunlight

Listen Up

Shhhhhhhhhh!

The politicians are talking

Listen to their lies

Sorry. They have only misspoken

Their pie in the sky promises, never to be fulfilled

Shhhhhhhhhh!

The media is reporting

Listen to their misshapen opinions

All experts unto themselves,

Accountable to no one

Shhhhhhhhhh!

The people are talking!

Listen to their cries

Listen to them beg

Is anyone listening?

Just the walls of humble homes

Just the windows with torn curtains and broken panes

Just empty bellies that growl and plead to be fed

While the politicians and media pundits

Continue to be misspoken,

and to be misshapen

Your Lies

You stay behind a locked door

And I, on the outside

Where it is cold

And I am unprotected

From the blistering cold

Hungry

Naked

And in great need

And yet you will not come out

Despite your assertions

When you needed my help

Instead, you pray that the sun will come out

And melt the ice that surrounds me

And warm my naked body

And the trees would bear fruit to feed me

And I would somehow be clothed

And protected

And when the sun does come out

You exit the warmth of your room

And lie again

You say that the door was locked

Or, you couldn’t find the key

Or, it was stuck from the cold

And that your prayers were answered

But, I prayed too,

My prayers were answered.

Not yours!

But you claim it

Just as you claim everything I do

And continue to ask for my vote

A politician, you are indeed

Book of Leaves

These are my leaves

Pressed in my book of life

Blank pages

Except for my leaves

My history of life’s experiences

Dried up leaves

Curled up leaves

Cracked

Burnt

Just bones

And exposed ribs

No written words

No images

But they speak

Of unrequited love

Incomplete wishes

False hopes

And false dreams

Just history

Pressed into the blank pages

Of my book

I pick them up each day

Off the frozen ground

Brush them off

Polish them up

And place them carefully

On each page

Then shut the book

Only opened for history’s sake

But this is my book

I claim every blank page

Every broken leaf

With cracked, exposed ribs

Curled up, Dried up

Just dried, burnt bones

These are my leaves

Where are yours?