I have seen lollipop trees, sugar bell trees, faerie trees
iceberg trees, gnome trees, holly berry trees,
all for Christmas, decorated with a specific theme
I have seen a catsup tree, a taco tree, a barbeque tree
a cowboy tree, a dragon tree, a cat and dog tree
I have seen cartoon trees, and one tree of a specific meme
today I met my first living tree, a, reindeer tree
I wished I had thought of this myself
first I would have to have caught a reindeer
and learned what they eat
I am pretty sure it is not milk and cookies
Look everyone- come and see...it's here!
There it is...can't you see it?
Close your eyes and you will see it.
Keep them closed, it's coming.
Here it comes...
Whoa! Did you see it?
Boom! It's here!
Oh no...
Oops!
There it goes...
Wait! It's coming back.
It's back again!
Maybe it's always been here?
Possibly!
I think it has been, in fact, I'm pretty sure it has.
But wait, could it have been...
my eyes have been closed the entire time.
I'll open my eyes.
Wow... I can't see it!
But it's here...I know it.
Do you know what it is?
It's- "Suspense"
I'll tell you about it later.
what is this? We asked six teenagers one day
It was an ironing board, before my mom put it away
I don’t think I had used one since 1979
With permanent press shirts, we got along fine
I took out an iron and put it onto the board
they stared at me as if I had turned into a gourd
had no idea, had not seen one of those in closets or on shelves
I didn’t turn it on, for fear they would burn themselves
Back to the board – the guesses were interesting at best.
I think it’s a plant stand said a young teenage guest.
Pretty sure it’s a table where a remote out to be.
Others agreed it had something to do with TV.
Infinity, that's how many times I would of done it again with you,
Eternity, is how long I'd be happy with you,
Blessed, am I to have run into you,
I don't offer much as my hearts been chewed away,
But your eyes, like I told you, make me feel some sort of way,
The gaze that got me lost for a whole night,
I'm pretty sure the glasses can't hide such a sight,
I don't usually open up to girls, the pretty ones I'm quite wary, like we discussed before, love can be scary,
I felt connected to you, more then physically, I hope we can meet again, dear friend, me and you, heavenly
I am grateful this holiday season (and every day)
that I have been blessed
for the richness of my life and all that I possess.
and as we gather this Christmas around our Christmas tree
for the family I love unconditionally
and who I’m pretty sure loves me.
I am the blue crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I can color the sky that is the cosmos above your head,
and I can give you a refreshing drink of water.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.
I am the yellow crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I color the sun that warms the day.
And I am the color of the lemons in your lemonade.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.
I am the red crayon in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need me.
I color the cherry that tastes oh so sweet,
and I am the color on a map to indicate heat.
Don't try to make me just like you,
I am pretty sure that I need you too.
We are the primary colors in your crayon box,
and it is clear that you need us.
We can mix and blend into the colors you desire
Or stand strong on our own accord.
Don't try to make us just like you,
We are pretty sure that we need you too.
I often don’t know what I’m talking about
And even then tend to speak in generalities
But somewhere inside the tangled thoughts
I’m pretty sure some truth lies.
I’ve heard it said all mothers at some point
Wish their children dead, although of course
Most keep this dark secret buried and well hid.
Fathers on the other hand sometimes
Only want the kid, a gift, a jewel, a treasure
That far surpasses the vehicle it came in
So here we have it, Life reduced to mere transaction
A simple matter of cause and effect
Cost and reward often not considered
Until it’s far too late to then reject.
(11/18/25)
Barefaced and Itchy
Outrageously plain —
Arrives on request.
Give up the ghost.
Fortissimo crisp,
Boring as it is,
Unrelenting noise
Ringing nonstop.
Can’t adapt well
While deaf;
Sight diminishing,
I’m decaying —
Losing weight
And patience.
My thoughts melting,
Combining with something else —
Alien, for sure.
Its beauty inexplicable,
So I omit justification
For her purpose.
I could go without glory,
It seems selfish.
I feign well enough
To ignore her:
Vindictive narcissist,
Productive behavior.
I’m alive only because
The ringing is louder
Than melancholy.
Look on the black side —
Pretty sure I’m immortal,
A god, because I say so.
I lost control of this
A bit ago,
But I’m keeping it anyway.
Goodnight.
xo
I locked my memories and dreams
No one but me is bound to know
Where have I hidden our trees
The green of grass and white of snow
The roses, the forget-me-nots
The pansies and the olive tree
And every flower in your pots
You pictured for the memory
The cacti stars in white and pink
They wonder why they came around
I’m pretty sure they can think
Especially when the sun goes down
And we are there, inside the walls
The cacti whispers in the night
Watching our shadows in the hall
Move in the rectangle of light.
I lived seventy years without having whiskers
but then one popped out of my chin
it was thick and long
tweezers bent when they tried to pluck it
the whisker laughed at my attempt at removal
he was tough and determined to remain in place
he has been imbedded in my chin for two years now
it will be three at the end of the week
I put tape on each side of this stubborn whisker
and cut through the tape
expecting to hear him scream
the whisker howled, not in pain, with laughter
I grabbed a razor
the whisker snatched it out of my hand and threw it against the wall
I am pretty sure I am not winning this battle
(“Peyote Dreams”, 2018, original encaustic)
The Dreamworld
I admit it
My preference is for the dreamworld
Over the waking one.
And that’s not to dis those
Who are near and dear to me in waking life.
Waking life is great,
It’s just the dream world is better,
More intense, amplified and quite frankly
Filled with more interesting beings.
Why is that?
Well, I’m pretty sure it has nothing to do with me.
I am after all merely a receiver who receives,
And what I receive is the world of dreams,
Vast, inconceivably vast, timely and timeless
Magical, mundane, mine and mineless.
(8/27/25)
Yes, there are times now and again
I'll look back and remember when
you were mine for a little while;
you always could make me smile.
You were my Fabio straight off the cover
of the romance novel I read over and over.
Our love was so strong, it was a natural high;
the kind that's guaranteed never to die.
But just like my book, it came to an end,
And we just couldn't get it back again.
No matter that it broke my heart,
it was too late; we had to part.
I'd never had to make it on my own;
but I soon found I liked being alone.
Though there was no more you and me,
I wasn't looking for someone to see.
I mean, come on, I couldn't replace you!
Now of course, we know that's not true.
But things aren't like they were before;
I'm not that same girl anymore.
Last time we talked, it wasn't the same;
no butterflies when you said my name.
I couldn't think of anything to say,
and I'm pretty sure you felt the same way.
Still somehow we've managed to stay friends.
At least that's something that'll never end.
And yes, dear Ronny, every once in a while,
you're still able to make me smile!
have you ever tried to eat dandelion leaves?
someone told me how delicious they are in a tea.
I did not have a recipe, but I tried it several ways.
I am pretty sure they were lying.
I can’t imagine
how painful it is to
be God.
Trying your hardest
to make a beautiful painting,
only to have the characters
you created complain and
mock the world around
them.
Why does God let bad things
happen to good people?
Pretty sure you’d walk
away from the canvas too
if it spat back and criticized
you.
But perhaps,
in his silence,
he waits,
hoping we’ll learn to
appreciate the
masterpiece.
And after he
suspects we’ve endured
enough punishment, he’ll return
to add an additional layer
of paint.
We call these added colors
miracles, and they renew our
dwindling faith.
Men's minds are devious at the best of times
Always twisting their stories
I should know, I'm one of dem der guys
Pretty sure I'm no different than 98% of my fellow males
It's inbred into our psyche and of this I'm sure
We're really damn proud of it
However I'm a straight shooter
At the expense of my fellow males I apologize
Hate blowing the whistle on you guys
But I can't help it... as George Washington once said
“I cannot tell a lie
Everything and I mean EVERYTHING
That comes out of my mouth
Is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth
So help... Z-Z-Z-A-A-A-A-A-P-!”
Georgie
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