The Game

I think love has purpose even if it’s pain.
After all what else gives you so much to lose- with unbidden right to complain?

Each year it’s recognized- a little more youth is lost
And you add up the experience – while grimacing at the cost

The bends of the mind only squeeze the heart…
And it’s the swollen eyes in mirror – who tell you are coming apart.

Better to have loved and lost – we already brace for little gain…
But in these matters it’s never been about the rules- but how you play the game.


If you love who I am

Fight for my plea

Not control

And over me…

Fight for happiness

Not life’s soul

For the opposite

Takes its toll…

Love me

Before hating them

Understand time

Can be everyone’s friend…

And when age

Graces you and I

Fight for a difference

Not a lie…

Because where you ended

I began

It’s not what you imagined

But still The plan.

Posted in Poetry

I Would Like…

I would like the start with what I know
If I hadn’t lost it and how
Or use the map that got me here
But then where would I be right now?
Knowing my way around
Would be new or complete?
Or appreciate what I have
Instead of wasting with defeat.
Yes and to communicate
In a way I can be heard…
Where the receiver gets the message…
By hanging on every word.
I would like to give stones-
Where each step would make sense…
And to share a special gift
With love so intense…
I would like to know what I’ve done
Before only my spirit is left to hear…
And to know who I’ve touched
Before only goodbyes and tears.
I want to feel companionship
In hand and by toes…
I want to love life and place..
And I hope to make it show…
Yes I have so many goals
But rarely the right plan…
I suppose there is tomorrow…
Such is the sane of a foolish man.


The winter comes but every year

Regardless a lively summer

And ice forms across the pond

Despite all seasonal weather…

But each year death is a shock

As all leaves fall from the vine

And no amount of love and care

Can stop required time…

Do not plant in summer to evade the fall

Or love without expecting sin-

For every moment comes and goes

As Nature simply repeats again.

Posted in Poetry

Wanting for More

Does it matter

The earth falls through my fingers

Like wine on the floor

The smell only lingers…

And I brace

For a period of regret

After the memories

Only Alzheimer’s could forget…

And I wait

Just like those moments before

Getting nothing

But wanting for more.

Posted in Poetry


I’ve Wasted years

Missed youth

I’ve wasted tears

Missed the truth

I’ve wasted money

Challenged bills

I’ve wasted love

Looked for thrills

I’ve wasted thought

Emptied the mind

I’ve wasted heart

Not being kind.

I’ve wasted breath

Gambled time

Now I’m wasted

On cheap red wine.