More is not the answer

More is not the answer

Just a fork and one pea

A singular moon with

Stars in a waveless sea

After a bullseye why

Raise the arrow and bow

When there is nothing more

Than splitting hairs of know

Serenity pursues

Serenity pursues

As the traffic trumpets 

Cars divide and conquer

Undisturbed my compass

The sun sets yet darkness

Does not blanket this glow

This shy adagio 

Bairn gets nowt but this know

After the laughter threads

After the laughter threads

Are worn out from time’s treads

Attention to Life leds

In order to proceed

Still here as the sun slants

Promises kept and can’ts

Bonsai giant beanstalk plants

Joyous for each indeed

Failure is becoming

Failure is becoming 

Look at my failures darned

Evidence of effort

And in the end, no harm

Not chasing perfection

What is that by the way

Wanting for completion

Of a thought turned to say

Call them sheep or sheeples

Call them sheep or sheeples

Or fish in funnel traps

Clueless even if they

Were given exit maps

It’s not political 

It’s a mental issue

Fifth Avenue murders

Baked in bones and tissue

At times I wonder when

At times I wonder when

Yellow turns into black

Or possibly all white 

In the absence or lack

And if this bowler hat

Or top hat poetry

Will find a modern light

Or disappear wholly 

Eugene just made it in

Eugene just made it in

For breakfast at the church

Art galleries still closed

Too early for a purch 

He likes reading westerns

On a bench in the park

Drinking beer then sleeping

Under trees when it’s dark

Days have to be enough

Days have to be enough

Grass cannot be greener

It’s not tomorrow and

Yesterday, a seener 

So with purpose we plunge

Pactful deep end diving

Moments to be mindful

Buried seeds are thriving 

Under an August sky

Under an August sky

Birds like dashing dreams fly

While the sun is fighting

That time will soon black eye

The Overwhelm surging

Traffic all hit and runs

And each passing stranger

We’re coupling into ones

Arms around each other

Arms around each other

We will stand in the rain

Time is unimportant 

It’s feelings worth refrain

Darkness has no shadows

Abstract painters are light

But here in the contrast

We are living in quite

Foolish me to fathom

Foolish me to fathom

Shelters of protection

Awaits all arrivals 

From lack of affection 

That thoughts of vastness will

Help end short sightedness 

That the greatest ideals

Expand small mindedness 

Tragedy’s marbles roll

Tragedy’s marbles roll

Uneven and unjust

No God and no blessings

So good luck is a must

Prayers to leprechauns 

Stars old carbon and dust

There are no true answers

Strong held beliefs just lust

Not living with dark clouds

Not living with dark clouds

The storms rolled in and went

And continue passing

Yet flowers are not spent

Even with subtraction

Happiness is color

Half of a red rose is

Still red and not duller

Living in the moment

Living in the moment

Alongside the weather

Coins spent or fountain tossed

No why’s or the whether

The presence of present

When the whole world is verb

Sitting still in the flood

A part of Life superb

Again the painted light

Again the painted light

The leaves all dipped in sun

The soft clouds all apart

At the horizon, one

Knee-high to above head

The corn with gold tassels

And small tree patches like

Green kingdoms with castles

Yesterdays in the air

Yesterdays in the air

Without fashion or trend

Just our times together

We thought could never end

And here we are sharing

The wider loom and thread

The promises we kept

Both those we felt or said

Happiness is within

Happiness is within

It’s drawn with conclusions 

It has no physical 

Or lofty illusions 

It is acceptance and

The choice of reaction 

Gratitude and pride in

Whole number or fraction

And for a brief moment

And for a brief moment

Like completing a book

A calmness, a quiet

A short nap in a nook

Question marks are turning

Into full light bulb shapes

Grace glazed our surfaces

From our toes to our napes

Again the butterfly

Again the butterfly

On an unknown hillside 

In a wriggle of flight

On a cursive wind ride

No questions of purpose

No consult, no idol

No destination just

A destiny idyll

In these last traces of

In these last traces of

My old abandoned home

Small fragments collected

From the finest toothed comb

Situations written 

On pages to forget

Recognizing my faults

Moving on to the yet

These rain clouds without rain

These rain clouds without rain

Anger swallowed like pills

Waiting for gray to break

Before a torrent spills

Depression is anger

When emotions are dammed

And then stagnate and stew

Instead of head-butt rammed

Endearing, just buttons

Endearing, just buttons

To fasten folds in days

Orion’s Belt holding

Nothing but our lost gaze

Talking about changes

Inner highway traffic

And blowing my own horn

Autobiographic