I’ve Been Thinking

Driving, I thought

Of life and death

How some folks live more

In only a handful of years

Than some who barely scratch

Life’s surface after decade upon decade

Of blood coursing through veins

A heart beating, lungs expanding,

Going through the motions

But that’s not living.

That’s marking time.


left alone with
thoughts unwieldy
too intense for
this bright day
crushed beneath
thoughts of envy
will they always
hold this sway?

gathered close for
future’s telling
slowly ticking in
mad men’s hands
stop the clock and
start the living
mark the place
then heave the sand.

prayed, oh please
don’t let this nature,
keep me wrapped in
sifting through grayed
grainy photos
begging for my
soul’s surcease.

Tuesday Poem

Tuesday’s child,

Full of grace

Excluded from


Saved from

Woe, by two

Dozen hours

Or so.

Fickle time

Declares which

Gifts might be 


Based on a stroke

Of luck or the

Hands of a


Tick tock.


As a child this poem always bothered me. It seemed to put poor Wednesday at a disadvantage from birth, while Sunday got all the good stuff. Hardly fair!  Always interested in justice, that’s me. Oh, I was born on a Friday in case anyone’s keeping tabs.

Monday’s child is fair of face, Tuesday’s child is full of grace, Wednesday’s child is full of woe, Thursday’s child has far to go, Friday’s child is loving and giving, Saturday’s child works hard for a living, But the child who is born on the Sabbath day Is fair and wise and good in every way.

Peace, People!

Time Does Not Care

The Kiss by David Walker

I’ll pose to you two
Questions posed to me
Does love remember?
Does time have meaning?
If he said today I’ll love you forever
Would that mean anything?
Would he remember after
We tangled over jealousy
And hurt feelings?
Would love conquer all?
Would the time we spent
Loving mean anything or
Would it be wasted?
I don’t think I could bear that,
That what we’ve had
Becomes meaningless.
Better not to have loved
At all
In spite of what the
Poets say.

Me Time–in response to The Daily Post’s Writing Prompt

A trio of haiku written in response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt.

I. Tick tock wind the clock

Carefully controlled tension

I snap when overwound.

Art by Norman Duenas found on Pinterest

II. Time out, hurry up

Life goes on without me now

Wrinkles slow me down.

III.  “A Time for Us” sung

Plaintively, no dry eyes here

Save mine; mine were clear.

Peace, People

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