Here are a lot of little short poems. The numbers may not be the same a I originally gave them (years ago when I was writing poetry), but it doesn’t really matter.
Flight attendants striding
through airport lounges —
self important convoys with smiles
still undergoing pre-flight checks.
The Way I Feel
You say that we can not make love
because I’m not in love with you,
but I do feel a certain fondness
and some fondling would do.
I have never felt a hint
of God, but still I cast my hopes
and dreams at the sky to see
what the bait of my virtues can hook.
The Big Bang–
Death is silence,
so have your say
while you have breath.
It’s me that she wants to elude.
Like the movement of the ocean
she crashes on the beaches of my solitude
to withdraw with a beckoning motion.