In the baseball playoffs, the mighty Chicago Cubs went down
Outscored 12 – 1, 'the sluggers' sneaked out of town
On the other side of the city, the news was much better
The once-awful Chicago White Sox advanced to the second round
Most everyone thought the Sox would absorb another whipping
Guess the south-siders forgot to read their press clippings
Male
Female
Two boxes
And I fit neither one.
Are you a
Girl
Boy
Even games demand an answer.
I can't be a
Man
Woman
Both would be a lie
often wisely observed and evaluated
two to tango is a shared responsibility
too often not shouldered
the real value and beauty of two in a tango
lies in devotion, perseverance, loyalty
it is an unfailing commitment
to move in harmony, a balanced unity
symmetry, maintaining an equilibrium
a consonance in an infrangible coherence
two to tango is a loving embrace
that mesmerizes the dance floor
provocative, stimulating, seductive, alluring
hinting at times, a salacious aura
and when i muse on these aspects
i believe two to tango in the latter
is more in line with the aspects of life
where the magic reflects in the eyes
of the Most High, with a lifted eyebrow
a peccadillo compared to refusing responsibility
are we not told the greatest of these, love
as Mr. Spock would say, dancing is logical
if two must tango
Oregon 10/1/26
Patient, kind, yet so often so passionate.
You always make me feel so content.
Giving you peace and pleasure is my intent.
Our feelings for each other are so ornate.
Calm, composed, yet at times so dominant.
The way you speak to me is always erotic:
In every sense your love is pure magic.
You remind me there's no reason to resent.
Confident, soft-hearted, and open-minded.
Even whenever I feel our ship's departed,
You reach for me in same ways we started.
With you I feel our ages are rewinded.
Everything you are: two sides of same coin.
I love how together we are more ourselves.
Our poems for each other shall fill shelves.
I know in every lifetime we shall rejoin.
THE TAO OF TWO
The attic steps
Once I climbed
The door ajar
Alone inside
I watched you stare
Though no one there
You reached for one
But none beside
What secrets kept
Beneath your breast
What is so dark
You won't confess
What storm still stirs
Inside that chest
Who holds the key
With such contempt
Your love for one
Though hard I try
Seems I am lost
And don't know why
For what is said
And what is meant
The Tao of two
You, and I
I love summers
going with whim,
being with him.
What can compare
to no schedule, no plans,
the cool of martinis
or beachside bikinis?
an underdressed me,
outright hedonism,
shapeless Freedom.
I love Fall
The hustle of classes
their immediate demands
the need for fierce focus,
and the challenge of exams.
The overprepared me,
intense, mental involvement,
a future, academically solvent.
two such separate worlds
that can never collide
which is actually better?
I can't decide.
Both are simply systems with costs
the texture of one, depends on the other
and neither state is fully sustainable.
.
.
Songs for this:
Wake Me Up When September Ends by First to Eleven
Another brick in the wall by Pink Floyd
I have two mirrors.
One images the exterior.
One images the interior.
I use both of the mirrors.
The first mirror is of the type
That most of us commonly share.
The second mirror is mine to choose.
For me, that choice is the Bible.
If I'm not pleased with what I see,
I have the option of alteration.
Alterations with the first mirror
Are easier to master than the second.
The mirror of the Bible is much more
Revealing and exposes the inner me.
It also offers me a recipe for change.
Some recipes are less tasty than others.
It makes no allowances for choosing my
Own recipes. The recipes of the Bible are
Designed with me in mind and has no additives Nor man- made ingrediences. It is perfect.
Two people that I love the most Are standing on two different shores, And I am stranded in between, Trying to mend a quiet war.
Avery looks me in the eyes And tells me , "You shouldn't have to be in the middle of this." But how can I just walk away And pretend that I am blind, When every harsh and heavy word Leaves both of them behind?
Liyah feels the distance grow, She thinks that Avery’s moved along, Traded years of memories For a place where he belongs. She sees him take up all the space, She feels forgotten in the shade, Watching from a step behind At every plan they ever made.
I know the truth of how it goes— I’ve seen how Avery tries to reach, Inviting her to come along, To walk beside us in the halls. But when he shows up in the frame, The distance starts to slowly grow Avery drifts into his pace, And Liyah lets her footsteps slow.
It’s not as simple as a fault, It’s heavy feelings misaligned. I want to protect Liyah's heart, So I keep what I see inside. I cannot pick a side to take, I cannot turn and walk away, So I will stand right in the middle, Hoping love will find a way.
Behold, my eyes, a closed frontier
a love both gay and gay in nature
in my sex, I feel as a squatter
waiting for eviction
Behold, my heart, a douse of fear
a love forbidden by the savior
a sin drowned in holy water
and holier-than-thou in jurisdiction
but oh, even as I cross that road
into a safer pasture,
will my veins, upon the first kiss
of same-scented lips, implode?
or will i somehow wicked grow
into a sickly hunger
devouring joy till none exists
and I soon miss a tender doe?
if I could be a woman, and i be loved by one as well!
if I could be a man, without a lust that damns to hell!
if I could be ANYTHING...that brings the inside out to see
then maybe I won't be
a closed frontier
a stone by nature
alone.
maybe...
maybe I can be
as glorious as the love I feel
for this instant
for this moment
for that movie
for these marks on my skin
for ears,
for navels,
for nature,
for God
for you.
If
No word works
Any word will do..
Well..no
A story is told best
With better words..
Seems we have
Two stories here
Which are not two...
I was raised alongside our dog.
My biggest dream was to be a cog
in the great Cogswell Cogs machine.
I'd work for peanuts or for bones,
but his cubicle nameplate read, "Spot Jones",
while I fought for scraps on streets so mean.
On the 11th of September
A day we should all remember
That sad day the Twin Towers came falling down
Crashing to the ground
That fateful, infamous day
When Americans passed away
2,977 unfortunate souls
Went up to become God's Guardian Angels
And let's remember as well
Those who died from the toxins in the air from hell
Those Brave Police Officers, Firemen, EMTs and brave Citizens
To rescue people, went back in again and again
Now, God's Guardian Angels watch over us
As we do dangerous things and such
Things that must be done, understand?
To save people in danger, as many as we can
So, let's bow our heads and say a prayer
For our Heroes who die every day everywhere
Our Heroes who may not always get recognized
But are Brave Heroes none the less in our eyes
When you relax after your day is done
Please remember our Heroic Unlucky Ones
Who are sadly no longer here
To Them, raise a cup, drink a toast of wine, spirits or beer
Remember we must!
Cause when the debris is cleared and cleared the dust
The Terrible War Site is gone
But the Memories live on...
Copyright ©? Jeff W. Watson, September 11, 2026
There are two Americas today
One that puts its faith in the system
The other that puts it in the people
The first is the Left
The second is the Right
And this is the way it has always been
One side relying on the power of the State
To impose its will on the individual
The other side relying on the individual
To build, protect, support and celebrate this nation
The irony of course is the system
Relies on, and feeds off of these very individuals
One side wants to tear this nation down
To rebuild it in a vision of hope and change
The other wants to build on its traditional foundation
To simply make it great again
And make it even better
The Left and Right are not two wings
Of a single birds
Not two sides of one coin
They are instead two fundamentally different
Visions of what is right and wrong
What is the light and the dark
America, we are at a crossroad
What will it be, fun and freedom
Or anxiety, depression and terror of tyranny
(9/9/26)
autumn
crisp, bright
drifting, cooling, turning
leaf-lined days meet pale horizons
settling, quieting, deepening
still, silver
winter
Let the snow roll over in my dreams,
Let the shore be cast away in my sea,
Let the stage take my fall away,
Let the path take me walking along the way.
The last dawn does not wait for the final dusk,
The last walk for the unknown stride,
The least is the unknown slavery,
The feast is for this tidy courage.
Where I step, I step twice,
Once for myself and another for the Silence.
I worship my Silence along the sidewalk,
I never truly believe in the communion.
Let me clear my voice,
Sleeping is the unseen lavishness,
Running towards the maze is my labyrinth,
Going to be heard in silence and not to be unseen.
Ignore the path that is not yours,
Align with the thought that causes you to walk alone,
Aloneness is the road that diverged in the wood,
The two-forked road that mends my decisions.
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