There sits a man in the room below me
Strumming gently on his guitar.
He plays notes out of key sometimes,
And he doesn’t sing,
Simply hitting subtle rhythms,
Softly playing his chords.
This man though not knowing,
Has created a serene beauty
That only he and I
Will ever know.
I await his playing nightly
To help me sleep,
Imagining that he is playing for me,
His audience of one.
First published in Big Question Literary Arts Magazine, 2026, all rights reserved
A close neighbor is better than a distant relative.
This is excellent advice,
For God has commanded us to love our neighbors.
In the simple rhythm of each day,
When help is near and hearts are kind,
A neighbor’s hand can lift a soul
More surely than a far-off tie.
A close neighbor is better than a distant relative,
For distance often dims the care,
While nearby doors stay open wide
To share a meal, a word, a prayer.
Which is an excellent advice,
A truth that shines in daily life—
To greet the one who lives beside
With open arms and gentle eyes.
Since we were commanded to love our neighbors,
Let love begin right where we stand.
Not only blood, but every friend
Who walks the path within our land.
For in this love, we follow Him
Who taught the Good Samaritan’s way.
A close neighbor becomes true family
When faith and kindness light the day.
As a young child my mind goes back to Tom,
a pure dark gray old tom cat.
We went visiting in the town next door,
when Tom took up with me.
The neighbors said,
they had never seen him before.
We took him home,
giving him a bath then food and milk.
I dressed him up in my doll clothes,
then gave him a baby bottle of cold milk.
Tom was my real baby doll disguised as a cat,
and he loved it.
We both had many wonderful hours of fun,
as Tom got extra rubs with cold milk.
Zoltar moved in quietly,
carried up the stairs by no one
I remember seeing.
At night, his gears murmured
through the thin apartment wall~
a soft metallic prayer
to whatever listens in the dark.
Occasionally,
I heard his cards shuffle themselves~
paper whispering secrets
it should not know.
Sometimes his lights flickered
under my doorframe,
as if he’s pacing,
as if he’s thinking.
One night,
he slid a fortune under my door:
The visitor arriving tomorrow
died twelve years ago.
Another one follows:
Your shadow will leave you
before the week ends.
At dawn, the hallway smelt
of burnt incense and cold metal.
His lights flickered wildly,
as if he’s arguing with something
I cannot see.
Then a final card appeared~
edges singed, letters warped:
Do not open the door
when you hear your own voice.
Looking out my bay-window,
I am feeling the new day and seeing colors of indigo.
The pretty indigo sky with big white fluffy clouds,
turning ominous and into dark thunderclouds.
My neighbors pretty garden of indigo flowers,
are getting a drink and much needed showers.
Domestic Bliss Is Feeling,
the love from living out doors is healing.
Domestic Bliss Is Seeing,
out my bay-window because it is freeing.
If you want love,
Serve other first;
Save other then.
one tiny bark from the dog next door
my two dogs turn silly, I know the score
barking back and forth can last for hours
three dogs excited, no dog cowers
entertainment for all three
their barks are huge, in no way wee
the neighbor and I wave, giving a tee hee
we are disturbing no one, since we live in the country
I am your neighborhood cat you see
Destined to antagonize you as I please
Peering through your window hehe
Come here dog to bark to appease
You can't get me you canine disease
You're locked inside can't you see
I'll scratch at your window with ease
Ahhh does this irritate with my tease
Bark bark bark dog to try to appease
As I lick your window repeatedly hehe
Oh wait here is my backside to tease
I wave my tail just to further displease
Had enough you stupid canine disease
I'm your neighborhood cat I do as I please
Wait! was that the front door as I freeze
Chased down the street now I must flee
You cannot escape my haunting touch
Prolonged fingers reaching so,
A gentle tap to let you know
The string that is your life was cut.
I walk with souls hand in hand
To places only they can go
My touch sends them on their way
To waiting loved ones in the Glow.
I am your quiet neighbor
Your final curtain call
To guide you into forever
As the ends of your string fall.
There was once, a clever man called Tim
His abrasive, smelly wife was called Vim,
Her head too big for her boots,
Such a nasty person, who wished some no good,
Tim being so handsome, got all the looks,
Whilst she was looked upon with disdain
Again and again and again and again.
They bought a house in an upbeat snobby area,
Her idea, and next door lived a lady called Sahra.
A cultured person whose background, much like Tim’s
Tim and Sahra got on like a house on fire,
Whilst our know all rude wifey, Vim,
Found her own kind in Sahra’s slobby husband, Skim.
Conveniently they had no children, Tim and Vim,
So got divorced, and then Tim married Sahra,
And now they have a pigeon pair
A girl and a boy,
The boy so young, yet so debonair,
His name is Terra,
The little girl blonde and pretty like Sarah,
Terra’s looks Latino like, just like his dad Tim,
Granny s fav the little girl, whose name is Kim.
Well what happened with the slobs Vim and Skim,
Does anyone care, a true story I wished to share.
I stood in front
of my first place
as the clouds rolled above
at a snail's pace.
I glanced down
at this fluffy white face
with soft olive eyes
and long whiskers of grace.
I asked this kind feline
where it might live
as though it were a lady
with an answer to give.
Sissy stared up at me
with silent inspection
before she meowed
with a loud inflection.
From that moment
we were friends for years
and this bright memory
begets happy tears.
The apostle Luke speaks of a friend who visits his neighbor, asking for three loaves of bread so he can offer the breaking of bread and other sustenance with his unexpected late-night visitor. It becomes a duality newly purposed upon the neighbor who disliked the 12th-hour disturbance at the door; he bade him to leave, but the persistent act went on until the neighbor relented and gave his visitor what was asked.
The irritable spirit failed in its task of non-compliance, and now the act of the hour was not the original sin, upon the unexpected, the visitor, and the neighbor, as righteousness of giving knows not the hour and should not be held accountable by it. The act of doing the righteous thing was through persistence, lest admitted failure descend upon neighbors for an unknown time, but do right, and there will be peace and harmony for all.
In year one, his word was law,
She'd nod with grace, without a flaw.
Year two came, her voice grew strong,
He learned to listen all day long.
By year three, with voices raised—
The neighbors watched, a bit amazed.
One fine day I meant to fast.
The door bell rang, and I stared aghast
at the delivery boy who flashed a smile,
My tongue disregarded my tummy’s file.
Then a neighbour, uninvited, stepped,
Looked at where the box was kept.
I saw my money drain to waste--
As the glutton hurried to taste.
____________________________________
kibitzer neighbor
a blatant staring voyeur
vicariousness
living our dream lives
peeking into our bedrooms
crazy old woman
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