Our Emotions On Every Page — I’d like to write you a poem a cuddly, fluffy warm poem one letter at a time one word at a time every line carefully crafted I’d like to write you a poem a sweet aroma syrupy poem a verse a day a stanza a day in a book of scented whims…

I Only Learn To Love The Baby Much After Its Arrival — I am not an easy poet. I know If I were, I would be A poet my boot. …

Another Introduction Here — If I Don’t Change My Mind, Again — I am not who you think I am; I am not these accessories and accoutrements. I am not the coverings and conveyances. I am not the display pictures on my media walls or videos and photos of my appearances.

There’s only one version that exists — There’s something about me You don’t yet know Something deep Not just skin deep Yet something not hidden But still pure and unaffected. It’s at the core of my being Pristine and even primeval Something I want to share with you But I know I can not It’s a summation Of the many other parts Of the…

The task may not be as sweet as what you’ll have at the end — He had just made a short presentation that went very well because the audience was engaged from the beginning to the end. She met him in the corner of the adjoining room as he was getting ready to leave. When will you write a book? She asked from nowhere. Surprised, he…

It’s not just that baby fresh smell of your armpits when they’re close to my face or your hairspray on your return from the salon. There are many other scents in the air, not only of the wet paint I have put on the walls to give the rooms a refreshing…

Are we then not complicit? — Now the gongs sound hoarse the bells are mute even the birds have bridled their own tongues And the wind has taken a sudden vacation Fleeting wine tappers' broken calabashes lie in the empty streets and bald vultures perch on the fronds of the palm trees to wait out the vicious hyenas feting ravenously…

The goal of Life is to match your nature to Nature — The rain tap-dances with a thousand feet on my roof the same way it dances all over our graves A wide yawn and rolling into bed to cocoon between the duvet and bedsheets like a dash to the beyond my quietened mind imagines peace reigning almost everywhere Happy plants and…

Every relationship should color your soul to a certain degree, don’t you think? — Maybe I will return When I find the words To explain it all to you For now, I am tongue-tied And you may consider me just not engaging or simply running a body temperature affecting my ability to say what’s whirling wild on my mind Maybe I will return to look…