Posts Tagged Compassion

That Hole, It Survives

A ghost sat

on me, relishing

in darkness

my colored

dance with her warm red hugs –

she left me nothing

, , , , , , ,


On Tuesday, Meditation Did Big Things to Me

Some days, I’m

healed, craving deep,

frozen time,

holding this

now, wishing for old friends, but

they’re gone, so I sit.



, , , , , , ,

Leave a comment

One Day There Was Betterment in a Tiny Auditorium

Children holding his

tablets, moving miniscule

planets. Forget my

past, he screams, slowly curing

needy pieces of dog fur.

, , , , , , ,


When the lightness of sky, darkened and shattered by winter branches, showed me my fears

Pierce my will-

ingness, make me sail

over shocked

towers fir-

ing waves, that iron jumps, kill-

ing angst, making m’love.

, , , , , , , , ,

Leave a comment

How I Want You to Let Me Go

When I’m Dy-

ing, over last for-

ty-six breaths,


points towards cloudy nightmares

crashing heaven’s might.

, , , , , , , ,


I Want a Robot (2)

to permit me a walk
on the fantastic stairs
by the architectural

wonder, feeling the winds
from the South, full of
future lives, to only

reflect on sharing experience,
hoping it helps or comforts
or perhaps alleviates wounds

of loneliness.

, , , , , , ,


Tanka for Buddy

Waning, my dog said
goodbye, and I understand
why I must hope for
heaven for dogs, for without,
I want to hang, dead as mud.


, , , , , , , , ,


Shielded After Lunch in July Sun

Blurred down comes, July
sun, but today, my Devine
brought in gentle warmth,
deflected unneeded heat,
and a soft bathing bird smiled.

, , , , , ,


Lessons on Madness and Flow

Today’s PAD challenge was to write an instructional poem.

Lessons on Madness and Flow

Rolling back, go gentle,
pray with the blackbirds
as they scatter to the soft

trees, trees bending graciously
with bright air, and remember
the leaves are moving for you,

so move with them and when
particles of evil come after you
fast and hard, duck down on a

slight bend and feel the energy
as yours, and if someone greets
you, smile at the beauty of being

there and remember those knives
from people who don’t know you
are false, and dig with integrity

to live as you wish, and this I tell
myself, each day, trying to be
the man I want to be someday.


, , , , , , , , , , , ,


Lightly, Not Trespassing

This is my late submission for PAD Day 3. My dog ate the first one and that is why this is so late. The prompt for this day was to write a poem on something tentative.

Lightly, Not Trespassing

Her ego, too large, but perhaps not,
might it be a sensitive soul,
needing defense, causing compassion,
and I’ve fallen in, or have I?

She talks of her fans. They love
her, cause her to be reticent in shar-
ing, about how close they get to her,
and I want to be one, a fan, close to her.

More of her takes me into deep, warm
areas, and I must hold back, not tell
her any truth about my desires, so I
watch her, shiver, downed by longing.


, , , , , , , , , , ,


%d bloggers like this: