The quiet voice

One voice screams from the rafters Another voice yells from the rooftop They want, WANT, to be heard Somewhere from the shadows A smile breaks out The quiet voice hasn’t spoken Yet

You call that poetry?

You ask why I call What I write poetry It lacks complexity Depth and meaning, you say. Cannot it just be for fun For a laugh A moment that brings A smile?

An hour to do nothing

Yesterday, as I lay in a hospital bed, I had nothing to do for almost an hour. (Nope, not discussing why I was there, except to say it was not for something major.) I almost fell asleep watching golf. Mind you, that’s not a reflection of my opinion of golf (even though I’m absolutely awful …

A you haiku

You, smart, good looking But that one thing that I know You wish I didn’t