Short Practised Poems

Trust is the most important part of a relationship to me,
and I have practised that my entire life,
because if I can not trust a woman completly,
who is to say that she won't tell my wife....

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The Love of Man, the Love of God
are practised here; there is a quiet, 
not just a lack of clamor, that is sacred.
It is a safe place to reflect upon 
the blessings of your life, a still-point 
in a world of stark uncertainty, and when 
everything seems lost it is your home....

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11-21-2016


Took the winding road
But none was good enough
For staying together while getting old
The passion was there
Not strong enough for the chains to hold
At least we tried for several years
Perhaps the practised passion
Does fullfill us nowadays within a little fear...

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The love of Man, the love of God
   are practised here; there is a quiet, 
not just a lack of clamor, that is sacred.
   It is a safe place to reflect upon 
the blessings of your life, a still-point 
   in a world of stark uncertainty, and when 
everything seems lost it is your home....

Read More

The love of Man, the love of God
   are practised here; there is a quiet, 
not just a lack of clamor, that is sacred.
   It is a safe place to reflect upon 
the blessings of your life, a still-point 
   in a world of stark uncertainty, and when 
everything seems lost it is your home....

Read More

The love of Man, the love of God
   are practised here; there is a quiet, 
not just a lack of clamor, that is sacred.
   It is a safe place to reflect upon 
the blessings of your life, a still-point 
   in a world of stark uncertainty, and when 
everything seems lost it is your home....

Read More

Ward-robe, things are stacked, 
Jackets hang along the rack.
Stale smell of time that’s spent, 
Designate the absent gent.

Practised shoes beside the door,
Cease to plod the polished floor.
A wallet emptied of its cash,
A modicum of the dead mans stash.

Buried deep beneath the clay,
He won’t be coming back today....

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how much more i'd
have talked,and twined bout politics
if it was practised right,giving critics
a shun if there was seen even a
little light in adversity,but day
and nights harbor millions of years
there might still be time,for tears
of a dark clouded rain,even
if the season gives it no reason


in memory of R.E.G.Armattoe...

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Joined a blowing team
We bowled once a week
Practised, practised all week
Big tournament coming soon
All my team mates members
Had gotten the high scores
I tried to do the same
To get a strike wasn't easy
Sometimes three pins fall
Then I would get a gutter
          ball
The tournament begins 
All teams ready to win
Each team taking turns
Only one team would win
It wasn't my team
My certificate said
Play Offs Champion
I was so proud...

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A taste for winter
before it has neared.
Like a taste, remembered by smell. 
Coats and scarves sitting alone, deserted in the summer light. 
Fingers stretch to feel the wool of gloves. 
Feet - free, running in the tall grass, 
Will soon break-in ice skates, 
Solid leather giving way to a practised grace. 
An icy reflection of breath harnesses time
While the Black bears sleep their days away 
Rivers cease their roars, frozen under winters metallic torch....

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You thank me for my
Patience.
And one part of me
Acknowledges
The compliment.

But another part
Sees it 
Like thanking the sun
For shining.
I am well practised.

Waiting to depart,
Then to
Return back again.
Scattered parts
Of my life, me,
Spread across continents and years.

Al that I know is,
Is that
Some part of me is
Convinced that
You are going
To be significant.

Will you stay long?
A friend?
Or maybe a lesson.
Excited by
the change I feel near you....

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