Like Cats

Intertwined
Or puppy dogs tumbled alltogether,

You and I
share cares (bare) on this bed.
In and Out
Your breath and mine,
Like thoughts laced with wine or
Sunlight through vines.

Just then, when I stood next to you,
It took all my pacifism
To not reach out and touch you.
Now I sit here on the edge
Of war wondering why I didn’t.

Wait.
I did.
I reached out and stroked your face.
Just my body
Stayed in place. Now, . . .

Night and I are dark inside.
The moon and you
A rising tide.
This life (and the rest) too light.
Night and I,
We must hold tight.

TAXES . . .

They say death and taxes are the only two things you can’t avoid.

There’s a finality there that is hard to ignore.

A sense of dying already let in the door.

But what if you want to deny this truth?

What if you wanted nothing, and needed less? Would governments be

Satisfied without redress?

Somewhere out there on the edge, where the sky meets the earth, where

Birds fly and the unknown still lies like a sea serpent looking for dinner,

We look to find our salvation.

An eternal spring, a new life form that when wedded with ours will create an

Everlasting, always young, new humankind.

And I wonder, could we do that without changing, rearranging our current

Universe. Or would this change like some domino exhibit collapse us all

Into

Some black hole that is worse than death and . . . taxes.

Making sense

is what we do
2 plus 2 and blue is blue.
Still, when I love you’s the deal
making sense is so untrue.
Human insight messed by love
Scrambles thought waves
like a ball struck dove.
Making sense don’t make me laugh.
To be alive is a constant thrash.
She says, I say
Come on Babe,

Trust me , I’m your slave.
Making sense don’t be a fool
All it does is leave you screwed.

Knuckle-headed

Noises jammed my scan
Static lightning mistakes
Messed my plan
Pit stopped, I smelled
This as another “I can”

Attempt at self reconciliation
Amidst the
Thought traffic jam.
“Ear-ran.”
I ran,
Feet heart beat fast
I reached at last
A place where thoughts
and acts
Cannot crash
Un back lash ash to ash.
Smash.

Making love to Watergate

Nixon and I and you
Sweating at a rapid rate.
Reprehensible
Utterly sensible
Lacking declensionable
Nouns
To possibly clarify the
Inter – relationships
Of we three making hate to Whitewatergate.
Clinton and you and I that is . . .

Have you . . .

ever thought
“A slice of you could
Grow a clone”
“Maybe two, . . .
Each with lives
They could grow
Alone?
you could sin
They atone.”
Have you ever thought . . .

Ah well, from here on in you’re on your own

Two Poems . . .

Time

. . . and applied ethics
measure out the daze
while I have amplified
both inner and outer gaze.

A Wish

There is nothing scary about a wish, except that sometimes
it comes true. It’s as though, by sheer will power, we’ve changed
the rules.

The future fraught with what we thought.

Getting our wish, we may have made someone else sad or angry or
count for naught.

Wishes are selfish and dangerous and a lot like hopes.
Hopes are what make us keep going.
Hopes are dreams brought into the
Light of day.
Hopes are games we need to play.
Hopes are humankind’s
Real way to pray.

I wish . . . ?