Saturday, June 30, 2007

Predictable

Of course, to add to the previous post, men are gambles.

I find at this age that people are getting predictable. History is starting to repeat itself--out there in the world--and in my world as well.

Poets are becoming predictable, as I age. They seem to be the ultimate liberals, whatever that means.

I need more time.

Friday, June 22, 2007


Every woman is a gamble. You never know which way the balls are going to roll. Marriage is one of the most complicated things to get yourself into. A lot has been written about marriage. To make a commitment to another person is a wild thing to do. Gawd, after ten years of living with someone do you every get to know them? No.
Everyone keeps changing, and that is the poem for today.

Monday, June 18, 2007


There is nothing more wonderful than having a cup of coffee out on the deck in the morning and reading a book of poetry. Except now, I've given up coffee. I think it is weird stuff. So, now there is nothing more wonderful than being out on the deck and reading a book of poetry. Except now, I hate poetry. I can't stand it. That's why I try to write poetry.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007


To live a long time without a major tragedy is good luck. How few of us count our blessings. It isn't easy to count our blessings. It takes effort.


Here is an artist you might enjoy,




Saturday, June 09, 2007


No matter how old we get, (I am convinced) emotions often remain simple and easily understood--what confuses and stresses is when there are too many conflicting emotions, when feelings are forced by necessity into being modulated by thinking.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Forlorn Future


Sometimes things happen to other people which ends up changing you. Now there is an idea for a poem. My wife goes to a funeral and brings back flowers because they have so many. One day she will bring them home for me, my funeral. So I say, nice flowers, while I have the chance.