The tulip cup broken

The tulip cup broken

Disinterested bee

Maturity arrives

Unheralded degree

Poetry like fence posts

After the long prairie

Holding tired horses tamed

Saddled by clarity

So many perishing

So many perishing

The pandemic pervades

Souls on ventilators

Hard coughing to their graves

When will the cycle end

Twenty-twenty fatigue

A crazy President

Refusing to concede

Happiness is sovereign

Happiness is sovereign

But needs artillery

At borders it battles

To hold territory

It is not wandering

Seeking solace or gain

It only has one home

Crown and protect its reign

In this Van Gogh moment

In this Van Gogh moment

In the swirls of the air

Jumping the blowing leaves

With joy and without care

Firm puddles of black tar

Like sand traps on a course

Avoiding these leaps with

Dots and dashes of Morse

Technique or emotions

Technique or emotions

Expressive discipline 

Is it science or Art

Creative thoughts engine

Reasoning or rawness

Not all dreams are couture

Farmland or Zen garden

Both entities of pure

Nothing remarkable

Nothing remarkable

No sense of pioneer

Behind us autumn leaves

Future the last frontier

Sights set on tomorrow

Keeping time close at hand

Not breaking tradition

And not stretching the band

Pursuit of happiness

Pursuit of happiness

Is not the road taken

Geography aside

If I'm not mistaken

It's of its own making

Do not follow bread crumbs

Determine one's own pace

With a stretched out wet thumb

Wheelchair in the crosswalk

Wheelchair in the crosswalk

The rain starting to fall

My self pity and my

Worries are looking small

They are trying hard while

I sit at a stoplight

Impatient and still as

They muster all their might

A figurine or vase

A figurine or vase

This poetry of mine

Sitters as the dust falls

Between each break and line

Nothing profound or wise

A road map of my days

Walk beside me awhile

Then off you go, part ways

The heart wider than Life

The heart wider than Life

In the moment requires

Letting go as the past

Beyond the dust expires

Trees stand like matches struck

Their season snuffed and spent

Here in autumn twilight

Seeing what came and went

Hercules your apples

Hercules your apples

Meant more to you than Earth

You wished for more padding

While plotting for more mirth

As we continue to

Hold up the Earth and sky

Like a Roman fiddler

You made yourself a pie

Clouds deciding to stay

Clouds deciding to stay

Graudating in gray

Shapeless as unspun clay

A setting sun seeps through

And a lock of sun hair 

Not worthy cutting air

Day and night a dance pair

With a hole in one shoe

Have I forgotten me

Have I forgotten me

Forty years from eighteen

All worried and weary

With fears carved inbetween

Searching for the moments

Then asking the meaning

And standing up straight when

I caught myself leaning