Doing Poems

Doing

We do things we love

Do things we hate -- 

One, for affection:

and the other, for fiend
necessity, like~ executions
and wars…

Maybe better, not to confound
the two – maybe better, more
and less we do?!

No Ego Joe Show

On every outing…no touting or fostering of pouty louty shouty postering…

No flouting of the definition of classical ebb and flow rendition…

Yet boundaries scouting…Rooty sedition routing the opposition…

Echo the past…poetic…the ship’s mast and fillip for the cast..

Prophetic.. to and fro athletic ascetic aesthetic …traditions bestow and glow…

No 20/20 generic…why old school is still and always will

sitting or doing

sitting or doing
dying or moving
a slug in a chair or a dance down a stair

choosing apathy or energy
to move or not to move
to hold a couch down or plant a willow tree

inside doing nothing or outside doing everything
sitting or doing
plunking or moving

stationery or frenzied
choosing fat or muscles
sitting or doing

dying in a recliner or digging a

Nothing doing

Nothing

doing 

renders an

appearance of

doing~~

How Am I Doing?

I’m better today than yesterday, but not as good as tomorrow.

Terra Incognita

Putting out fires not of my making
it's time-consuming heart-breaking
the grass over there don't seem any greener
and from my perspective the streets are meaner
the so-called social networks are as unsociable as can be
impersonal with dirty laundry on show for everyone to see
despite self-admitted wrong-doing and misdeeds
the herd still follows their every lead
but I won't borrow sorrow
and

My Thoughts

My mind is locked, I feel so low
Drowning deep, don't know where to go
I search for keys to unlock my brain
But thoughts are stuck, driving me insane

I wish I could break free from pain
But darkness grips, refuses to wane
Suicide's not the answer, I know
My mind's a mess, feeling lost and slow

I see the key, but

What The Hell Are You Doing Here?

He looked at me, eyes dull and cold, 
“What the hell are you doing here?”
And just like that-my heart caved in,
Shattered by the words I feared.

I had come with love in trembling hands,
A daughter needing something small-
Just a soft goodbye, a crack of light,
But he built another wall.

I stood there stunned, not sure to speak,
Not

The Art of Doing Nothing

i will just ll.
like leaves lean low in wind,
not asking why the sky
keeps its blue to itself.

i will just ll.
let light leak through the blinds
like a quiet kind of grace
on a wall that forgot to hope.

i will just ll.
not rise, not fall 
but linger,
in the hush between hours.

i will just ll.
like the last word
on the

Doing The Right Thing

In flow,
In work,
In motion, 
In emotions,
Never get tired,
In doing things,
That which is good.

Doing Adult Things

Doing Adult Things 
Working long hours 
House work 
Solving everyone’s else’s problems 
Too much drama 
Coffee in the morning 
Kids always hungry 
Running errands  
Calendar full 
Late to work 
Running red lights 
Exhausted into the night 
What's for dinner? 
Always 5 o'clock somewhere 
Adult beverage in hand 
Always busy 
Always behind with laundry 
Everyone

Doing the Chicken Splash

So, you turned on the news,
   and it gave you the blues,
      and you almost hurled,
         at who's leading the free world,
            and your teeth are grit tight,
 

Romans 3:10 There is no one doing what is right not even one

To my children and grandchildren,
Ask God to help you forgive.
When you experience hate or hurt any day.
Human pride hates to admit,
That we are a "Fleshy Mess!"
Watch the news there's nothing to guess.
We are made to be like our Creator,
Designed for caring and love.
That's why we must cast our eyes above.
Countless times I've been hurt and

They're still doing the nasty

i wake up in the morning
on comes the news
same foolishness and bickering
same pettiness and insanity
same old sh*t different day
shake my head 'cause here we go again !



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

doing without want

i can't watch myself go

how to swallow the sounds of birds
meditations in my mind are
the absent minded professor right now
i have emptied ink
from Ireland
into time
irrelevant crimes of France
you are only children
too sound
much too sound

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