it is time to sleep.

there is no time to keep

when all alone

on this Saturday afternoon.

i’m a tough guy

with nothing but a cement foundation.

it’s kinda like

the back of my book.

there is no wall

and no roof.

all you can find

are my individual poems

page after page

without a binder.

when it’s winter,

you know it’s cold

in north east pa,

and i’m vulnerable

to the conditions.

when spring time comes,

it’s re-incarnating time again

to add more layers in life

just like I am right now

to show growth in the word.

but when summertime hits,

the sun keeps me warm,

but never a smile

to coincide true happiness.

as fall approaches,

I keep shedding words,

and the winds,

they ruffle my pages

when I lay new poems down on the others.

it makes me wonder

how mother nature

is so involved in my life.

it’s a spiritual place

no doubt about it.

I forgot to tell you

that I pull off leaves

that are so green

and so smooth

to the feel it can mimic

the poems that I write.

this tree from the birth

of its leaves

is now bare and it’s not even winter.

I’ve had so much to say.

the poems need a front cover

and maybe it’s just flat out time

that the tree needs to be cut down

and sent to the mill,

after all these poems

are an all get out

in the weather related conditions

to give this a great looking cover.

got high school education.

life’s been my teacher.

ought to be giving me

professor status

with a cup in my hand

on a street corner for a penny.

it takes a while …

sometimes a long while.

maybe what was needed

were two candles

placed on the dining room table.

underneath the table cloth

became like foundation

on top of the maple made table.

somethin can be said

about the grains and smooth finish

that is now covered –

it’s not altogether visible,

but the legs sure are.

foundations –

they start from the ground up.

it’s all about discoverin the groove.

be like make her

all about being a hot spot

in her all out country atmosphere.

accomplish that –

she’ll be right there

at the table,

knowin full well

you got her

sipping your wine

because of your fermented

just right hit the spot in the lines

leavin wanna all that gotta lovin

in all the bylines

from a country drivin

pennsylvanian get her respect

in the ink all out –

hard to sit back

knowin love is a special kind of –

wait on her terms kind of attraction.

it’s a may day –

not necessarily an SOS,

but i’m lookin

for that inside outside smile

to come across my eyes,

cause today

was just one of those days.

it’s just the magic feel

I get from when I am

with ya to get to feelin life –

cause it’s been so lonely for so many years.

I know waiting,

is just another way

of saying time makes you win.

I know ya are mine

for a little while,

but leavin ya

only leaves me

thinkin of ya,

just like in this moment

to get me through

on this warm sunny day

that’s brings in the may flowers –

and i’m telling ya,

all of them have a little bit of ya

in each and everyone of them.

all that beauty in the expressives

just pours out of ya from your inside

over and over like a chorus 

in any hit that reaches number one.

cause ya are my all everything in the multi colors .

I swear now

at this very moment

im not so lonely.

see yourself in a garden
blessing this creation –
that is you.
be like any beautiful rose
growing from the ground
with a natural
built in interchangability.
learn to read yourself,
cause if you don’t
life can become difficult.
establish a relationship
with transitory thinking.
pretend your mind is cushion,
it’s a facilitating –
make like cozy
to clear the mind.
you are a special project,
cause god knows
you’ve been put through the ringer.
it’s time to unclutter
and connect with that source
of all that bountiful information.
you are a receptacle –
not just unwanted flesh.
that big guy upstairs
wants you to be like a skyscraper
kinda like an extravagant theatre
to make your life
a deeper soul lover –
cause your rose
is an all out
in the different colors maker.

a little like quagga
with blended coloring
stripes on the inside.
this art of defense
kinda like martial arts,
but in subtle forms,
is like a baroque response.
this wheelhouse-
tribal in circle influences
is all about spiritual growth.
cause natural elements
in all of nature
is an every seasonal flow.
sometimes though in life
you need to get away
to build up true feel.
maybe it’s time
for a little woodland retreat
where all the leaves rustle
in the wind leaving it’s voice.
words they just like good company.

those rivers

that streamed down my cheeks

left nothing but canyons

for quite some time.

there was nothing gentle about it –

couldn’t see

that it was god’s way

to show that tears

need large cradles

to handle melodramatic

out of the ordinary unnatural situations.

I don’t know,

i’m not a girl,

but you’ll understand

why all the others let me go.

think about it,

a deeper meaning –

like bad apples,

even if it means

telling my story

to allow a tiny light –

like a sliver –

gotta think they are better.

it’s ok to deal with losers –

those are the ones

that fell from the tree

and felt they were shamed

so they could seek revenge

within a movement.

it’s so very tragic –

but I didn’t rule my life

like a hard nosed guy

that wanted to treat a woman

like a piece of trash –

but I sure got it in return.