When you are mad at yourself, who is mad at whom? The perfectionist berates the lesser achiever.  The clumsy at heart seeks the suavity of the dresser of presentations, honing his part. Some continue to go over the past and its hall of mirrors.  Even now we observe as in a badly synchronized movie, always…

I have a problem with the phrase: The Past is the Past The Future is the Future And the Present is a present presents are items that we hope in the future will bring happiness presents are temporary. Examined Played with Discarded The Present is The Present is infinite…. Receiving Holding Inspecting Opening Discarding the…

Why do I have to look at my email and Facebook every time I open my computer? Staying busy is a fad God forbid that we are lazy As I look at myself in the mirror I wonder where does my face belong? Acceptance is a good thing Life is happening I need to p…

The quieter the outside world is the Louder your inner thoughts can become Then you have to face the root of all your problems Yourself So we avoid it By keeping busy Filling calendars with plans All while ignoring our inner needs With hopes they will be fulfilled externally By that new car, phone, house,…

With two sets of directions He leaves work At 2:00 PM Pacific Standard Time Knowing full well He will hit Friday traffic The linear progression And accuracy of his calculations Facilitates his timely arrival His pragmatism makes him believe He can manage the flow Of a changing world However, his mental assumption of staying put…

The blow across my face Is so ingrained That not feeling it   Wakes me To the safety of my own bed   It is the first night of Spring Break I am too bothered to sleep   (On Reflection) I help a drunken mother Up a mountain of stairs She teeters and totters Before…

Poetry doesn’t work A nine to five   Nor does she live in the good part or Bad part of town   But in the thick of everything   In the second story apartment Above the burlesque jazz club With the daily open mic night   She picks up shifts When it is convenient for…

He can’t remember Why The attractive teacher   Blasted through The closet door   With passionate rage Burning like sulfur From her sockets   His breath Taken away From the sucker punch   He finds comfort In the violent reaction   He gets carried away By his daydreams   But he cannot Run from his…

A hesitation Makes me question   To see if my spelling is correct   Glaring at words in a thesaurus   The original Not poetic enough The process Altered   The instinct versus the allegory   The words Find their way From a notebook To a computer anyway     I digress To find myself……

From a safe distance   Anxiety sets in As my sweaty clenched fists Cross in front of me   I seek refuge   In my mental isolation chamber which Distances me from opportunity While comforting me from possibility   Leaving me Straight jacketed by my own fear   My attempt to lash out Is silenced…