Best Might Poems

Picking a rose in a garden of Sundays
Calling your name on a broken branch wind
Looking for clover where weeds are not welcome
Walking the bridge till its time to begin
 
Dancing in puddles now filled up with laughter
Running through traffic as cars speed away
Searching for words...

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Hoping that it might be you

Verse 1

I've got some troubles in my life...
I'll help with yours, will you, help with mine?
"Cause I need love like everyone...
Will you be here when the day is done?
(day is done)

Verse 2

Seems, like the whole worlds in a mess...
each day...

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"May I?" she asked motioning to my dog-eared notepad as a child might
asking for a cookie expecting to be told it would spoil her dinner
I took another swallow, my hand instinctively moved to the book 
to protect it or keep her from disappointment, maybe both

"It’s...

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What might you find there
down deep in my soul
Within the darkness
of that expansive hole
Will there be substance 
Will there be diamonds or coal
Step down the stairs quickly
at the door pay your toll

If you wish to be a voyeur 
there will be plenty to see
Unclothed and...

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but i wouldn’t fault you words spilling from a loose connection 
i forgive the negative 
they are tied to your artistic temperament 

your heart 
translucent 
exposes wires tattered and frayed
a myriad of internal cuts and bruises

i can hold such damage
with barely a touch
soothe the gnawing...

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I was just sitting there writing when I saw her stroll in,  
I wasn’t alone, all eyes followed those curves sashaying 
as if she owned the place and maybe she did. . . 
if a heart can skip a beat, mine did a somersault.

Obviously...

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As we age we regret words of anger and spite
That were heard and remembered and can't be unsaid.
The remarks we thought clever or proved we were right
That resulted in losses of friendships instead.

All the heartbreaks that came from suspicion and doubt,
The betrayals and hurts we...

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I Might Be a Tree

In twenty years I pray I won't be gone
placed six feet beneath a manicured lawn
I'd much prefer to give old death the slip
To guzzle life instead of just a sip

Mind and spirit together playing song
I'll rest a bit but not for...

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This was written a few years ago for St. Patty's Day and posted:
If your favorite color is green and of the Emerald Isles you dream,
you might be Irish..
If you believe in leprechauns and fairies and hidden treasures that lay buried,
you might be Irish..
If you like...

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"For all sad words of tongue and pen,
 the saddest are these, 'It might have been'."              
               ...

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What might you find
if you peeled away layers
If the rind of my soul was to be stripped away

I fear what you'd see…..what you'd say…..what you'd think
The feeble of me sinks in fear of your thoughts
that you would only be thinking you don't see enough

Were someone...

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When you are in trouble
and start seeing double
you might as well have a good laugh

Cause sorrow and crying
and excessive sighing
can shorten your lifespan by half

If buried in debt
why brood in regret
when smiles are just what you need?

Don't worry or panic
no need to be manic
far better...

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Time moves slower than a rusted windmill on a still day 
as I am unable to avert my stare, frozen in this spot,  
captivated by an intoxicating charm smoother than Tennessee whiskey 
that hasn’t seen the light of day since old Jack Daniels passed,
and...

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Note: If you haven’t please check out part 1 and 2 
before reading this. It will make more sense that way Thanks.

"May I?" she asked motioning to my dog-eared notepad as a child might
asking for a cookie expecting to be told it would spoil her...

Continue reading...

What Might They Find There

Obsidian suctions lost withered time

Through sugar-sweet veins thick-coated in grime;

Guitars strummed by orphans accompany space

Wrapped ‘round bloody throats choked in lavender lace;

Visceral heat-waves escape frozen eyes

Peering directly at sun-thirsty skies;

Questions are whispered in tossed away silence

Where hatred and anger form an...

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