Candlelit Being

The darker it is outside, the brighter I appear to burn

To give the darkness meaning, is all I truly yearn

A candle in a glass jar, I often dream I'm lightening  

To be finite and contained, I find is rather frightening  

So come a little closer, that I may see your face

Touch me to your soul, and burn with my embrace  



Somebody with some room

a soul so expanded

a guy can really stretch out

It's the difference between

a fish bowl and an ocean

You let me dive in  

tranquil and free

safe from stormy commotion


Brassica nigra

Annual mustard, you have me so flustered.

Your pollen is breezing,

It's got me huffing and sneezing,

But I really don't mind all of your teasing.

You're aspect dominant,

which makes you pretty and bold,

Your radiance to me

is worth more than gold.



Ten feet away

I see them through the window

Only ten feet away

But farther than they know

Unappreciated is their freedom

Uncontrasted to my tethers

While I am weighted down

They're as light as feathers

Hand Gun

Hands joined as in prayer

Pinky and ring fold over themselves

Thumbs open towards chest

Middle and index rise

Tips into open mouth

Thumbs close, reconnecting with index

Head explodes

Soul Yoga

It's like yoga for my soul

You straighten me out

You work with me to bend

And feel my boundaries

These boundaries get flexed

Pushed but not broken

Sometimes love is felt

Sometimes it is spoken


Relax my friend

Boundless compassion

To you I send

More permanent

Than yesterday's trend

Always I'll have

This heart to lend


Relax my love

Already you see

So far above

Don't fit yourself

To society's glove

You're the smartest woman

That I'm aware of


So relax 😽

An Ode to Drank

Problems around every turn

Family headed for the urn

When your worries tell you to fail

When life feels a bit like hell

Open up the fridge

And grab yourself an ale!

Breaking thru the paralyzing fear

Taking in stride society's leer

All you've gotta do

Is down the next beer.

Like an infant needing the coddle

I find myself staring down

The barrel of an empty bottle.

An ode to drank

Enteroctopus dofleini

The cephalopod

Is rather odd


It's got a bulbous head

That can wink and nod


And 8 puckered feet

That can poke and can prod


With its camouflage skin

And beak like a hawk


What would she say

If she could talk?