If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be, and why?
I'm staying put. This is good enough
For me. It's enough to be just one of
Me, although we all know that it can
Entail a myriad of souls both old and
New just being me. Or you. We aren't
Alone when we are or where we are.
Each of us has many facets to explore.
It's enough being me and me and me.
That he's broken, and breaking
That's clear. It's less clear that
He's still there in his depth, to
The core. All his beauty and a
Touch of wisdom is perversely
Hidden in the fragments of his
Memory and thoughts. It's not
Clear he knows who he was or
Who he is, lost in the mix-ups
Of a mind unsettled to its core
Learn more about moon cycles here.
Moon is a crescent, or it's
Full, round as the globe
Which, of course, is its true
Shape. The moon is a ball
Like the earth. Round and
Round it goes, what you see
Is its shadows as light will
Obscure or reveal, as light
Does. The full moon is our
Curiosity. We revel in tales
Of its magical powers, its
Influence to madden and
Inflame. A full moon will
Happen every month, and
There's a term we derive
Of its powerful rotations.
Months hang on a calendar.
The moon cycles through.
Moon hangs out in our sky.
Too disciplined to bring all
That chaos we'll pin on it.
I love you. That will always be
True. Hold onto it. It's our life-
Raft, the dinghy on which we'll
Sail in shallow shoals to isles
Both glamorous and fresh. I'll
Love you always, when forever
Seems closer rather than not.
I love you, that is always true.
Joy. He has such a capacity for
Joy. His dark mood can never
Obliterate his expressions of
Joy. It bubbles through, and he
Appreciates some kindness he
Has the sense to sense. Small
Joys win out over big sorrows
It is his gift. A measure of joy.
Flowers are symbolic
Words are hyperbolic
Sometimes. Or maybe
Not. Love is a happy
State but elation can't
Be permanently held
On the highwire that's
Life. We balance our
Happiness each day
My heart is full of love
A happy state held on
Life's highwire. I am
Elated but not giddy
Just intently, quietly
In love. Hearts, flowers
Cool fool, not a tool
Just all dovey and in
Love-y loses sense to
Fund his senses it's a
Common problem if
A fool falls in love, he
Has no commonsense,
Looking for passion in
All the right places.
Sensation excitement
Kisses and embraces
We are all fools when
We are in love. Cool?
It’s Tuesday the 13th. In February this means that the day that follows is V-Day, a saint’s day that for no particular reason I can see is designated for lovers and intimate dinners. The ultra-romantic in me is moved by Valentines Day 💝 but today’s poem is an offering of the silly rather than the sentimental.
On this evening, I am beguiled
Shiny reflections off that big
Building in the Bronx. At least
I think it's in the Bronx. It is as
Bright as diamonds studded on
Every facet of the facade. I am
Puzzled, the windows here are
All lit. This is not the case in
The buildings closer to home.
Diamonds echo on the bridge.
It's dusk yet not dark enough.
Something on your “to-do list” that never gets done.
Honestly, does anything ever
Get crossed off? Don't we, one
At a time, shuffle to-dos from
Top to next on our lists? It'll be
Done tomorrow. Or next week.
Like a rotating resolution, to-do
Is an aspiration, one more thing
To do. Keeping up with your list
Of to dos? Great. You're done!
Tamara, really