A Theory of Modern Neurosis
and Its Ultimate Resolution

When man descended from the trees
He stood erect and lost his fleas.

For generations after that,
He wondered where his fleas were at.

We had attained a noble niche
But, in the process, lost our itch.

The need to scratch, and halitosis
Developed into our neurosis.

The cure is simple, if you please:
You must return to climbing trees,

Then bend your knees,
And scratch them fleas!

Smile

I made a new discovery--
Insight into what governs me.

A smile upon a human face
Is something we should all embrace,
And when you write a line or two
It helps me to discover you

And give me cause to want to say,
Thanks for the smile you sent my way.

Those Friendly Staff at Your
Neighborhood Community Mental Health Center

Inpatient, Outpatient, Partial too
Are services we provide to you.
To make you heal, to make you well,
Replace your pain, remove your hell!

For we are trained in what we do,
In therapy to counsel you.
Years of study and sacrifice
So you may have a better life.

We will not rest upon our laurels,
We have the temperament, we have the morals.
We'll heal by day, we'll pray at night,
That you, like us, will gain insight.

For we take pride in what we do;
We are the best, the chosen few.
We're there for you when storm clouds gather,
Soon as we get our s**t together!

My fears are growing strong today
That I may kill myself someday.
Staff pretend they're kind to me,
But it's a plot that I can see.

I know there are no other choices,
I hear that from those other voices,
My patients are not really there,
They are not real, they do not care.

But I will teach them all a trick,
Black magic was what made them sick,
For I was told this by the Lord,
He said return back to the ward.

I'll return to help and to assist,
For I am but a therapist.
I seek no glory, praise or cheer--
I'm now Employee of the Year!

Split Personality

It is most peculiar,
I don't know what to do--
I went to bed an Arab.
And woke up as a Jew.

I now recite the Torah
Not knowing where I've been.
The last thing I remember
Was the citing of the Muezzin.

None of this is simple
As you will plainly see,
For now I've double trouble
For I'm at war with me!

My upper and my lower parts
Are fighting for my middle.
My head and feet cry out defeat--
I want to rid this riddle.

But, alas, I can not find
A hope or a solution.
Should I wear my Yalmuke,
Or continue my ablutions?

The battle raging inside of me
Will never cease or pass.
The Arab has diarrhea!
The Jew is full of gas!

It's useless to surrender
And give up in defeat.
The USA supplies me arms,
While Russia gives me feet.

I closed my eyes and went to bed
To end this dreadful day.
I woke up an Englishman,
And joined the IRA.

Discover Me

Some wear their race
     Upon their face,
And they judge me
     By what they see.

They think the color
     Of my skin
Is all I am
     Outside and in.

To know my race
     I hope you start
To look and judge
     What's in my heart.

Please judge me there
     By what you see,
And hear my prayer
     For Unity.

We both should share.
     Discover me!

To Fall is to Fail

Listen my children
     For I must tell
You why the world
     Is going to hell.
We've polluted the waters
     And raped the soil,
And now the world
     Is out of oil.
Our food is depleted,
     We've run out of gas;
There's not enough paper
     To wipe your sweet ass.
We've saved just enough
     Resources for
One final fling
     At a glorious war.
The world is playing
     The "game of the week"
And now it is time
      To hide and go seek!

Starry Night
(for Vincent)

You are my love, my art.
My torment straight from hell.
Should you but ask,
I would not only live for you,
But die for you as well.

I gazed upon a Starry Night
And searched the sky for you, my dear,
In hopes to find a gift just right,
But nothing would appear
To be the gift of love and light,
So I severed off my ear.

I wrapped it my canvas
Painted yellow, red and gold--
For you to cherish often--
To fondle and to hold.

For those were the words you whispered
When I asked how my love must appear,
And you answered with mirth and laughter
That you wanted a gift of my ear.

The ear that heard your laughter,
The ear that your lips softly kissed,
And two on my face have been painted,
So one will never be missed

For you are my love, my art.
My torment straight from hell.
Should you but ask,
I would not only live for you,
But die for you as well.

The Child Within

When life seems more than you can bear
And all you feel is dark despair,
When you find problems everywhere,
Your pain and hurt seems so unfair,
     Then seek the child within.

If you alone must face the black
For all your friends have turned their back.
They don't have time for you to share,
And no one seems to really care,
     Then seek the child within.

When life demands you toil all day,
And you must work your life away--
There is no time to rest or play
And hope seems lost and far away
     Then seek the child within.

Remember when you laughed and smiled?
Seek within and find that child;
The time of wonder and discover
When tears were wiped away by Mother.

A time of jam and peanut butter
A time for sharing with another.
Carousels and laughing clowns,
Painted nose and painted frowns.

New games to play week after week,
First go hide, and then go seek.
And while seeking, look within,
Let the child come out again.

The child within is full of hope
And always finds a way to cope,
For if today brings only sorrow
The sun will shine again tomorrow.

Just close your eyes and think of when
You were just a child again.
When hope and promises all came true
The child within is still with you!

Within My Mind

Within my mind I've placed you in a shrine
A pedestal, where you have merged with me
When I sleep, it's your eyes that close, not mine.

We are as one, our hearts and souls combine
And thoughts of love are all that I can see.
Within my mind I've place you in a shrine.

But still, your spirit I shall not confine.
A butterfly must soar, must be set free.
When I sleep, it's your eyes that close, not mine.

Within my thoughts I see you as divine
I seek no other source for company.
Within my mind, I've placed you in a shrine.

It is your hand, not mine that touches me--
It it your lips, not mine that are lonely.
Within my mind I've placed you in a shrine
When I sleep, it's your eyes that close, not mine.

War

The cry of war was in the air;
I heard its horrid sound.
The women screamed, the children cried;
The men fought hard, but still they died.

I rode on up to see the front.
The shells fell all around.
"Get down you blasted fool!" I heard.
The world spun round, up rose the ground,
And silence was the only sound.
I could not speak a single word.

When all had cleared I gazed upon
What once had been a field.
Now trampled mud all drenched with blood
Was all that it would yield.

I turned around and then I saw
What must have been a fantasy--
For lying in rows like orchard groves
Were bodies lying in rows of three
That extended on indefinitely.
A sight that only the damned should see.

I stood and tried to realize
Just what this sight could mean,
And standing there I said a prayer
Hoping God would change the scene.

And while I stood there came a man--
At least he seemed to be.
His eyes were red, and on his head
Was written, "War Has Conquered Thee!"

The Spirit of War stopped thirty feet
Directly in front of me,
And with his finger motioned, 'Come!'
I could not fight! My soul grew numb!
I had to go; he ordered me.

He took me to his kingdom
And showed me his domain.
He told me of the future,
And all that it would bring.

"Sit down," he said, "and I will show
You sights you ne'er have seen."
A thousand wars passed by my eye,
A thousand wars that prophesy
Horrors that yet are unforeseen.

For all the bodies that were there
Were men who died in war,
And like a tree that cast a seed,
Death planted them: they had a deed.
They were to be another war!

Each man that died would represent
Another war to be;
Then countless more would pass away
Until finally there would be a day
When life on Earth would cease to be!

Then all went black. I never knew
How long I stayed that way.
I dreamed a thousand dreams of death
And woke the following day.

My Clone

Cloning has, at last, finally come of age
As controversy takes the center stage.
While governments have all stipulated
That people may not be duplicated.
But as I sit and pass another day
And often feel I waste my life away
I wish that a clone that was made for me
Would exchange places, and I would be set free
To go where I have never gone before,
To walk the beach on some forgotten shore
Where fantasies and dreams will all come true
And I would spend eternity with you!

Every year or so I'll pick up a phone
And chuckle as I call my brother clone.
I'll ask him if he still sits on my chair
Does he now wish he were me, and I there?
Does he feel the lonely and despair
That I felt when I sat upon that chair?
Like me--does he now greet another year
Wishing that a clone would somehow appear--
Sit on the chair for another lonely year--
Wishing another clone would reappear?

Mirror Image

Each morning as I gaze absentmindedly
Into the mirror that is placed in front of me
I wonder who is the old man that I see,
With dark circles underneath his eyes
Looking back at me?

He looks so tired, what little hair he has is now all grey,
Symbolic, perhaps, of a life in disarray.
Yet, easily I recall another day
When a little boy stared back before going out to play,
And asked that I join him. Seems like only yesterday.

What happened to that nice young man,
Combing his hair as he prepared for his first date?
Wondering if tonight would be the night,
He was even afraid to anticipate.
Should he try to kiss her? Would she kiss him back,
Or would she retreat and then pull back;
Laugh when he told her that he loved her so?
Should he ever try, or just let go
Of just another fantasy?
More delusions of his adequacy.

And where is the man I used to greet most every day,
Before each of us left to go off to work and earn our pay,
And face new challenge each and everyday?
But now, those times--they seem so far away.

That poor old man I see looks right at me.
Has he always been there. but I refused to see
That he was waiting for a day when I would be
Just like him, anticipating our joint destiny?
Each of us, awaiting anxiously,
What images tomorrow shall we see?
Or shall we just stare, looking endlessly,
Awaiting our final ascendancy--
Together, throughout all eternity

Contemplating Mars

Pathfinder's off exploring Mars.
Is life contained within the rocks,
Or will the Rover just discover
Their ancient seas contained no lox?

And is it true that NASA found
A way it won't go broke?
For everywhere the Rover goes
A track print's left that clearly shows
The outline of a coke!

We've polluted the Earth
With beer cans and jars,
Chewing gum wrappers.
And butts from cigars.
Lets rise to the challenge
And reach for the stars
By cluttering up space
And visiting Mars!

Chuck's Photograph

Chuck visited Coventry, England
Seeking a new romance
When he happened upon a lady.
Wearing no underpants.
She had long, beautiful hair;
But that was all she wore,
An instant tourist attraction
A Goddess, to love and adore.
So he pulled out his trusty camera
To capture this moment of bliss
Of the lady up in her saddle,
What more could one ask for than this?

But a word to the wise is important;
There is much about her unknown.
The English women are different
And yours has the heart of a stone.
Upon closer inspection,
At least from my point of view,
She looks rather cold and quite distant--
Resembles a marble statue.

My Writing Has Chased All My Good Friends Away

I had decided to seek fame and glory
By writing the ultimate children's story.
So I picked up my pen and started to write.
I wrote through the days, I wrote through the night.

And then, alas, my story was done!
And writing it sure felt good and much fun.
For I'd given birth; a story was born
That came from within to love and adorn
The thoughts that I had nurtured and worn.

So I sent it off to my friends to enjoy
And fill their hearts with wonder and joy.
They read it, and wrote back their reply.
They were blatantly honest, as I started to cry.

"Dear Robert" they wrote, "it could be alot better
We suggest that you stop writing forever."
But these were my thoughts--all that I think--
I never knew how bad it must stink.

So if I start feeling boastful and proud,
All I have to do is to start reading aloud
From the story I wrote and now must endure,
And gone forever are my delusions of grandeur.

The Way We Think

It's fun to see a lady try
To understand the reason why
Men folk such as you and I
     Think the way we do.

For only then can one conclude
Our worth, our hopes, and magnitude,
And share with all our solitude
Our BEING, and our attitude
Regardless of how misconstrued
     We think the way we do.

So when she thinks these thoughts of men,
The logic that's contained within,
And of the goals we hope to win,
Just keep in mind man's greatest sin:
     We think the way we do.

Forget the Beans, Boys;
Add Some Onion to Your Life

A cowboy stays up late at night
And makes a fire to give him light.
He'll work and sleep in his blue jeans
While dining on a pot of beans.
And as the evening hours pass
He'll sing or joke or play bluegrass
     (You thought I'd say he'll pass some gas!)
But this is not the life for me;
I'm city folk and not country.

For I am much more civilized.
When eating beans I realized
That they were not the food for me;
Did not inspire poetry.

Of all the foods I love to eat,
I'll choose onions as my treat.
They make me cry, they make me teary
They dim my thought and make me weary,
And yet, it's only they I yearn.
Is it love, or just heartburn??

I find these thoughts somewhat scary.
Are all my words culinary
Or is this just precautionary,
Writing 'onions,' thinking Mary?

How different they both must be,
Clearly a dichotomy:
One makes me laugh, one makes me cry,
Yet both bring pleasure to my eye.
One adds spice to my casserole,
Te other, laughter to my soul.

The Grass Always Looks Greener

I too heard a voice
Once calling to me
To cross the ocean
And sail the blue sea--
A world to discover,
Just waiting for me.

I traveled to England,
To Norway and France,
Seeking adventure
And wanting romance.

I traveled alone,
With no one to share
All of the beauty
I found everywhere.

All I discovered
Were lonely weekends,
While I wanted to be.
With all of my friends

I decided to end
This lonely sojourn
And purchased my passage
So I could return
Back to my home,
Where I could be
Surrounded by friends
To share life with me.

I sent all my friends
A brief little note
Asking they meet me
As I walked off the boat

And they were all there
With their banners and plaque,
Saying, "Now that you're home--
Yankee, Go Back!"

The Best Medicine

If you're in bed, home with the flu,
Then write a simple verse or two.
Don't write another epitaph
Of how you perished with the staph
When all you need to do is laugh.
If the best medicine is laughter
Then that is what you should be after.
You'll never read a verse by me
About my pain and agony,
And how I stayed up all last night
Fighting off a parasite.
You'll never even hear me mention
About my pain and hypertension
Not one word will be said
That soon I fear I will be dead.
No! I shall follow my advice;
Write only what sounds good and nice.
And as you read this cheerful letter
I know you'll feel a whole lot better.

Evolution

The dawning place of history
Began when life rose from the sea.
I find it all sounds so absurd
That fishes morphed into a bird.

Now the birds swoop down and eat the fish--
that seems to be rather cannibalish.
"It's a dog-eat-dog world," so the saying goes,
which causes many fears and woes

And other fish who walked on shore
Evolved into a dinosaur.
I find it hard to reconcile
How fish and fowl became reptile.

The reptilian snake
to Mother Eve spake
whispered evil into her ear,
and she acquiesced, it is clear.

Soon man then helped speed the process
And society made progress.
Evolution remains unknown--
Why did the cow become T-bone?
And if I am not mistaken,
A pig evolved into bacon.

Ah, let us learn from mistakes past,
and find a peaceful way at last,
to avoid devouring each other,
find oneness, see each as sister and brother.

Astral Voyage

If I could travel throughout space
And discover a whole new race,
Would the aliens that I meet
Have purple skin and two left feet?
How would we communicate?
What ways could we reciprocate??
Would we have the ability
To share a little poetry?
Would they feast upon my words
Or dine upon my innards??

What if they should visit us;
Would we try to earn their trust?
Would we recognize their charms
And welcome them with open arms?
Or with arrogance and pride
Would we cast their ways aside?
Aliens with two left feet!
Who knows, they might come replete
With new degrees of elegance
And teach us all a graceful dance.

They'll win me with their graceful charms
And hold me close with their six arms,
And as we dance from place to place,
We'll entertain the human race.
Then through our new found artistry,
We'll head off toward the galaxy--
A voyage most adventurous
To find more friends to dance with us.
For every civilization
Is but part of God's creation.

Pink and purple camouflage
Planetary entourage;
Ah, indeed, for all we know,
They're among us as we go,
Waiting 'til the time is right
For our kind to see the light.
Do they wonder like we do,
"Why did God make me and you?"
Or, with pure serenity,
Do they just relax, and BE?

(But as you say, with zest and zeal,
They might just have us for a meal!)

In My Humble Opinion

Make much ado over me
For I am published
And Universities have offered me a chair.
Pay appropriate homage
For every word I write
And yes, it is appropriate for you to stare.

I see worship in your eyes,
My name alone inspires,
And it is only natural that you care and sigh.
Some day it will come to you,
If you copy all I do
Proclaiming "There but for the grace of You go I."

Just Add Water
or
How To Offend Nearly Everyone

I was a Hebrew School drop-out
I never made the grade.
But never having talked with God
Left me feeling just a bit dismayed.
Never doubting for a moment that
I was part of the chosen tribe
I decided to go seeking truth, and
Find teaching I should now subscribe.
I did not ponder nor hesitate
But left to go investigate.

And then the Christians told me
Alas, that I was wrong,
For Christ was speaking to me,
And I should string along.

So I got dunked, and dipped and sprinkled
And went my merry way,
Convinced that since I'd found Him
He would return some day.

All the billboards told me
It would happen any day,
And the preacher preached his message
That God was on His way,
And we had better be good and better be nice
Cause He's making a list and checking it twice.

And then a strange thing happened--
God really spoke to me,
And said that He had come again
If I had eyes to see.

He said that all I had to do
Is learn a way to be
A humble servant of Our Lord,
And live in unity.

It was so clear and simple;
A gift for all mankind
To live in peace and brotherhood,
A truth that all must find.

So I ran to tell the Rabbi
The truth that I had found:
The Lord of Hosts had come
And we were homeward bound!

The Rabbi sadly shook his head
And said my mind was in a deep fog,
For God could only speak
On Saturdays in his Synagogue.


I quickly saw a Priest
And told him what I'd found and thought.
He crossed himself and told me
My God was a Communist plot,
And that God would speak to those who search
On Sundays in his sanctified church.

And every where I went
They sang the same old song:
That if God spoke of love and peace,
Certainly I'd heard wrong.

And everyone I spoke to
Seemed to basically agree
That truth was only truth
Within their monopoly.

And they alone could give man
All that he could possibly need
By adding two cups of water
To an instant religious creed.

And they would be glad to provide this
Most any day at noon,
Along with an awesome warning
That God was coming soon.

Writer's Block

If a writer's block is now your curse
Just re-write some other poet's verse.
Add a word and change a line--
Just make sure to keep the rhyme.
If the topic was about Boston,
Just change the place and make it Austin,
For if the first was written well,
Then yours will certainly excel.
And no one will ever be the wiser
That you are now a plagiarizer.

From Her Perspective

I really hate to see you go
And leave me all alone
With only your last promise
That you'll call me on the phone.

But you might find it difficult
To reach me unassisted,
For now that you have finally gone
My number is unlisted.

For years I pleaded with you
Until my tongue was sore,
Please pack your paints, your tie and shoes
And exit out my door.

I never saw you take a bath
And, so the story goes,
Not once in the last year
Did you even change your clothes.

But never fear, I bear no grudge.
This is my epilogue:
I never cared for you at all,
I only loved your dog.

Season's Greetings

Songs of Christmas fill the air,
Each with warmth to show we care,
And each new chorus seems to say
Season's greetings on this day.
Old years fade into the past.
New ones come to replace the last.
Songs are sung of happiness.

Girls and boys of different races
Reach out to us with Christmas faces.
Eagerly waiting for the next tomorrow--
Each a gift from God to borrow.
To help a child along the way
Is Cristmas each and every day.
New sounds are heard of Christmas cheer.
Good luck to you this coming year -- as
Songs are sung of happiness.

Love Is

Love is like a river than flows into the sea;
Oceans of emotions that form a symphony,
Longing, yearning, hurting, seeking company
To sing a lovers song in two part harmony.

Love is the promised vision when sight itself is blind,
For where love is found,
               pain is sure to follow close behind.
Love is always changing; it evolves and grows,
Becoming both the flower and the thorn upon the rose.

Love lasts forever regardless of how brief.
For hearts are filled with wonder and with grief.
Recall each precious moment
               of the wonder of its starting,
And the sadness felt deep inside
               when the time came for its parting.

As minutes become days and as days become our years
Love becomes a lesson that our mind and spirit hears.
As an infant becomes a child,
               and as the child begins to grow,
Love becomes the river in which our feelings flow.

If Only

If only I could write a song,
     A simple melody,
And share the feelings that belong
     Within a rhapsody.

If only I could paint and draw
     A masterpiece of art,
Full of wonder, full of awe,
     A portrait of my heart.

If only I could write a rhyme,
Share simple thoughts that are all mine,
Then I would choose this day in time
To ask, "Please be my Valentine."

God's Garden

The flowers in God's garden
Are many different hues,
From shades of white to brightest red,
With yellows, greens, and blues.

How sadly uninspiring
If each one looked the same,
And every flower planted
Had to share a common name.

Each flower bears a fragrance
That stands alone as sweet,
But blends to make the garden
Aromatically complete.

The people in God's garden
Have many facets too.
Fat or thin or rich or poor,
Islamic, Christian, Jew.

So why not take a lesson
From the Gardener's own hand
And learn to live in harmony
So all can understand ...

God's love is not a secret;
It's etched upon each face.
The people garden is but one--
The budding human race.

Observations

The Church is open
To help the sinner
By making him
A Bingo winner!

   ~~~~~

My back grows weak and weary
From burdens that I carry.
And should you ever hear me moan,
It's from the weight of all I own.

   ~~~~~

What will you do when the party is over?
Where will you go when the running is through?
When will you look at yourself in the mirror,
And see that the person you're killing is you?

Come Morning

With morning sun to greet my eye,
And Spring arrives to dry the dew,
I waken to another day
While thoughts remain of you.

Another day to wash away
The dreams I dreamed last night,
But I still feel your gentle kiss,
Within the morning light.

I'll keep it locked within my heart--
That's where your kisses stay,
And treasure it as I go forth
To start another day.

A Poem to Those Who Drown Themselves
In Grief and Sorrow,
And Have No Hope Or Desire
To See Tomorrow

A soul that languishes in darkness and despair
Finds comfort in the misery that awaits it there,

And spends a wasted life, wallowing in grief,
Drowning in its own tears, and having no belief

That life is both the valleys and the peaks
And a new sun shines brightly every day.

In darkness all grows weary
And despair, like a shroud, is everywhere,

But to not extend a hand in kindness,
Is more cruel than any self pity that one wears.

For another human soul seeks solace,
Even if it ignores the hand, and remains unaware

That every soul is loved by God
And by caring people everywhere.

I shall not be counted as another one
Who turns away and does not care!

I shall continue extending my hand,
Knowing full well I may be groping only empty air,

But within my heart and soul, I feel compassion
And shall try to join my brother, sister, friend and mate

And someday we shall walk into the sunlight together
As our souls become one, and we assimilate.

For despair and sorrow can be overcome,
When two souls join together, and become as one.

Cry No More

There must be respite in the quest,
A time to set aside your test:
A time to seek, a time to find,
A time to let this dear soul rest.

It's not your teeth or arms or legs
Which constitutes your flair.
Your soul is not a broken wing,
But can soar into the air.

If you can see the blue white sky,
The light shines everywhere,
So let your spirit free to rise
And leave your sorrows there.

Should you scratch deep enough
          within each of us
You'll find the hurt and shame.
But God has given us
          love to comfort us
And take away our pain.

The Flower

She found it blooming in her yard,
a yellow flower growing wild.
To her it was a gift of love
As seen through the eyes of a child

She picked it up and held it tight,
A precious gift from God above.
And quickly ran inside with it
For her Mother to hold and love.

But when her Mother saw the weed
That was placed within her hand,
She quickly threw it in the trash
And gave the child a reprimand.

Years later when the child grew up,
She recalled her Mothers' disdain.
Of all the memories she owned,
This one would always remain.

When she told me of this story,
Teardrops formed in her eye,
I couldn't hold back my feelings,
Then I started to cry.

If I could talk for her Mother,
I would say something like this
As I held her within my arms,
And gave her sweet forehead a kiss:

"Please find me another flower,
A weed to hold today.
I will treasure it forever,
And will never throw it away."

"Please pick me another flower,
From the yard where we used to live.
For it was all that you possessed--
The only gift that you could give."

A Wedding Poem

Standing at the altar of life,
Two yesterdays shed all their sorrow.
Leaving behind days that have passed,
Together, they discover tomorrow.

As separate cords blend into one,
The vows they both offer now make
A festival consisting of
Dessert ideas and wedding cake.

Together they create a home,
A home more a concept than place,
For home is now built on their love,
Where ever they touch or embrace.

No longer content on just being one,
They pledge to start life anew,
Sharing all their tomorrows together;
Becoming united as two.

Childish Thoughts

As a child when you felt joy
Your heart would beat much faster.
Every fiber of your being
Was reflected through your laughter.

And when you felt a need to cry
At such a tender age,
Your body shook in protest
And your fists were ceinched in rage.

For you had not yet learned
To hide and to conceal
The needs that you possessed,
And all that you could feel.

And part of me remains a child
For I have feelings too.
My body, spirit, heart and soul,
Cannot help but loving you.

A Poet's Lament

Here I sit abiding time
Trying to write the perfect rhyme.
A poem much wiser than my age.
A bard that has become a sage.

Alas, it was not meant to be,
My seeking immortality.
No words of wisdom come to me
As I try writing poetry.

My inspiration up and went--
Creative thoughts have all been spent.
For I can think of nothing worse
Than writing empty thoughts in verse.

The Seeker

I am a student,
A seeker of truth!
I yearn for new knowledge each day.
I open my mind,
Which is more than most can,
And seek someone to show me the way.

But all who I find
Have such limited minds
Filled with dogma, rubbish and such,
That whatever limited
Truth they might have
Certainly won't help me much.

Yet because I am kind
And pity the small,
I feel sorry for all that I see.
Those poor, insignificant
Bigoted bunch
Had better start learning from me.

Because I am great,
And because I am wise
I know that there never will be
A more humble, sensitive,
Misunderstood
Example for mankind than me.

For I am a student,
A seeker of truth!
I yearn for new knowledge each day.
I open my mind
Which is more than most can,
To find someone to show me the way.

Thank You

Thank you friend, I'm glad to see
The "get well" card you wrote for me.
Feels good it did not have to be:
"With deep regrets and sympathy..."

Into the Light

With smells of Jasmine in the air,
And wild geese taking flight--
I feel I've left the darkness,
And returned into the light!

There is a Time

There is a time for everything,
At least there seems to be.
And ours was twenty years ago;
That's how it seems to me.

Perhaps if we had only met
When we were young, back in the past,
And had we met and fell in love,
That love today would still hold fast.

Our yesterdays have gone--
We missed our only chance
To meet and fall in love;
Experience pure romance.

Today is not the time or place
To wear a lover's hat,
And feel the joy that lovers feel;
Put out the welcome mat.

There are a dozen reasons why
Today it would be wrong
To want to kiss like lovers kiss
And sing a lovers song.

Today we must deny these thoughts;
Fight love with all our might.
But way down deep inside of me--
My God!--it felt so right!

How I Love You So

There are some things about me you should know.
I belch alot, and I have ugly toes.
I tend to pout when I don't get my way,
I talk too much, thinking I have things to say.
I have hair growing out of my ears and nose,
I laugh at my own jokes,
And when I bite my nails, it shows.
So many things I feel that you should know:
My dearest darling, how I love you so.

It has been said that when I sleep, I snore.
I dread the sound from the closing of a door.
I'm insecure and worry all the time
That you will someday tire of my rhyme.
And vanish into that God awful dark
Because of some insensitive remark
I might have said by stupid accident
While I was feeling overconfident.
With all these faults,
There's one thing you should know:
My dearest darling, how I love you so!

Love Heals!

First the diagnosis,
     then comes the prognosis:
11 Months of side effects.
     from contusions to transfusions
Let me list the ways:
     Nausea, cough, loss of hair and pain,
     itching, low platelets, and migraine
     bleeding under skin,
               food tastes all the same--
     blood sugar high, blood pressure low,
               feeling a bit insane.

Many friends have told me
     I am an inspiration
Beyond their imagination,
     Deserving their admiration
But still, they cannot help but wonder
What magic spell I must be under
     "Why won't he share what he conceals?"
The answer is so plain
why I feel such little pain.
               Love Heals!

Illness affects the body,
     But remains apart.
It cannot reach the spirit
     Or touch the human heart.
               Love Heals!

Illness can affect the mind,
     And make it less than whole.
Illness can cause death
     But cannot touch the soul.
               Love Heals!

Illness, regardless of how hard it tries
     To conquer in its endeavor,
Will never overcome your love;
     Your love will last forever.
          Love Heals!