Best Maturing Poems

He meandered lonely
just a senior citizen
trawling the pathways of his computer,
when suddenly one day in a flash
an enchanting name jumped from the screen
into his unadjusted head,
whilst still in a daze
he had cut copied and pasted,
the delete key not an option
when sent to his favourites.
Then like magic, poetry began to appear
every single day a new poem...

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When you hear plans for reactive justice
do you also listen for responsive mercy?
Or are you more likely to feel merciless revenge
against uncivilized behavior
swelling vibrant adrenaline 
thrilling your self-righteous bloodstream?

If revenge is your best defense 
against chaotic complexities of bad mad behavior,

If punitive humiliation 
is this justice by disgrace
you deem responsible,
comfortably live by,
protect and defend,
then you...

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Time seemed to be in abundance; enough to chew and brew
Sleep, play or gossip; enough to spare despite all that we blew

Dreams, expectations, full of flurry; no tick to stir the blurry
Life discarded as wasteful worry; hurry, worry all went to bury

I the Master, I the Supreme; others, the ordinary got little attention
Times came and...

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People always tell me that  

What to do with my bat  

After practicing a bit  

I will try to make a hit  

Avoiding the opponent's mitt  

Through the infield  

The rawhide peels  

And I run the bases as part of the deal  

People always tell me that...

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We humans are here to mature,
And often it takes a thunderbolt,
To strike from beyond,
To deepen our understanding,
Test our resolve,
Bring us into a calm acceptance,
Awaken us to our soul nature,
To complete an initiation,
Like putting the final piece of a jigsaw,
Into its interlocking place,
That we can know our purpose,
Why we are here,
What Spirit would have us do,
And...

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The author grows, reflects, and acts.
Words become harder to express.

When youth was evident,
the soul was thriving.
Now it all hurts, 
on the news the world is dying.
Too afraid to lift the eyes,
staring at the steps infront,
hurrying to a destination.

An author experiences, shares, and cares.
I thought perhaps I would be one.
But where I was bold, I am...

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I sit here  

With a pint a cheer  

Wondering about the number thirty  

Avoiding not being dirty  

It was fifteen years ago  

As you all know  

I was on top  

Thanks a lot  

To someone who gave me a shot  

Brandy, they said what it was...

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Christianity is a process.......
Some Christians explore their faith and question their denomination
Some do vice versa
Some question and explore both....this is the process by which true maturity comes.
The only immature Christian is the one who does neither zero none....

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O God you who knows all things
give me serenity that's wholly true
to accept that which I can't change
bowing to your supremacy this I do

Fill me with your courage
so to change what I can
being obedient to your law
nothing better done by any man

Give me your great wisdom
which I sadly often lack
so I know what's the difference
that...

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You will start off as an egg
With a tug and a tug and a tug you will rip out
Now you have advanced to a tadpole
And with that you will start your route

Then when you find the difficulties of life
You will have to find the solution every time
This is because you strive to be the absolute...

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I wish I was young and still drinking
Where others would see my soul
And feelings were thought together
for shallowness meant to role

That all of my troubles were sexual
and life meant I'm easy that way
For others to see me as special
and happiness had it's say

That all of my time was as busy
as the work that I do...

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(“Tapestry”, 2025, original encaustic)

Late Bloomer

It wasn’t until I was half my age
That I came into my own
And finally felt whole.

Now at sixty six
I’m not sure what you’d call
The way I feel.

Over the hill
Ripe in a hard cider way
Nobody going nowhere.

But there is peace 
In having been there, done that
And gotten over the need for more.

Knowing...

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For it to…  
For it too—  
Four and two.  
Forty-two!

A number?—or a gate?  
Where past meets present,  
And dreams no longer wait—  
Fighting, and finding—their rightful place.

For it to…  
For it too—  
Four and two?!  
Forty-two!

An age where silence breaks,  
Where the pen takes its...

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a silent calling
scattered colored leaves
a maple bleeds
rain falls
from holes in the clouds
a passage
thunder rolls across the sky
and fades
to the patter of rainfall
I run from my car
and call my gods
whispers of nothingness
as summer fades
I see my friend at a restaurant
as she clears tables
she smiles as she walks
by my table
hands full of dishes
snippets of conversations
affections shown in...

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Breaking through
the walls of my old thoughts
peeling away the dead skin
of the old sins I was taught

I know my loved ones 
didn’t mean to hurt me 
but teaching me the same toxic lies
did in fact poison me

and it was the kind of poison
that tasted really sweet
when you’re a child
you don’t get to choose what to...

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