My Inquiring Mind
English: Allie Darum (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
My Inquiring Mind
I see you in the mirror
As you put on your face.
Carefully your makeup goes on.
You didn’t miss any place.
Eye liner, perfume, lipstick,
Even more than I recall.
I’ll never say I love you best,
When you wear nothing at all.
You have nothing to wear,
Is a complaint you often share.
But ,darling, if that was true,
You’d be walking around cold and bare.
Don’t tell me what you want.
Just tell me what you need.
Your silence and body language
Are not very hard to read.
I’ll give my best for you.
You mean the world to me.
I’ll try to keep you in clothes,
Good enough for the world to see.
You’re not very happy with me..
You might think I’m a dunce.
You could wear that wedding gown,
Because you only wore it once.
Who cares if you clothes look worn?
For once we would finally agree.
Throw on sweats and come along.
You could be comfortable like me.
If going to a concert makes you mad,
Why do you always want to go?
I don’t understand that about a woman,
And my inquiring mind wants to know.
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Senses
Senses Working Overtime (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Senses
When I was a baby I wanted to taste,
Dirt, grass, leaves; everything was good,
Through the sense of taste my world I understood.
As a young lad I wanted to feel,
The bark of trees, warm human skin,
Everything needed to be touched again and again.
During my youth, color surrounded me,
And I trusted my eyesight more each day,
The world’s vibrant displays becoming richer in every way.
Nature’s music played softly in my ear,
I listened and heard it all, crystal clear as a bell,
My mother’s heartbeat, birds singing, frogs croaking as well.
Roses and violets, the air after a rain,
I detected subtle aromas as my experiences grew,
The earth offered me choices to smell, exciting and new.
Never did I want to take my senses for granted,
The world was a puzzle and each sense played a part,
They helped unravel mysteries from both brain and heart.
All five senses keep me standing in reality,
Yet without them my dark empty world would still spin,
For I keep hope, love, and compassion locked deep within.
Senses are my guides for exploring the world,
They lead me down paths and open closed doors,
Fill my coffers with treasures and give memories forevermore.
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Expiration Date
Expiration Date (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Expiration Date
Questions without answers drive me out of my mind,
And one answer in particular has been hard to find,
I’ve been noticing the labels on products in stores,
All the way to the ceilings and down to the floors,
From the ones I think marginal to the ones first-rate,
They’re all bar coded and have an expiration date,
Now I’ve been wondering but I’m not sure it’s true,
Are there expiration dates stamped on me and you?
Although I’ve inspected my skin from head to toes,
That date might still be hidden right under my nose,
There is so much to know and I want to relate,
What conditions are expected with my expiration date?
Am I like a fragrance and age pleasantly over time?
Or will I degrade quickly after I pass my prime?
No longer guaranteed to be as effective as before,
Even with a receipt I can’t be returned to the store,
Freshness, quality assurance, an answer I seek,
How long will it be before I’m past flavor’s peak?
Am I like a Golden Delicious that’s juicy and sweet,
And then become rotten and not fit to eat?
Do I have a warranty that’s determined by fate?
Or should I just expect to gradually deteriorate?
If I don’t have an answer then what will I do?
Time will expire without a chance to renew.
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Miles of Travel and Roadside Stands
A typical flea market shop, in Germany Français : clients aux marché aux puces Русский: Блошиный рынок во Франкфурте-на-Майне, Германия (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Miles of Travel and Roadside Stands
Bouncing along in my old sedan,
Stopping for refreshments at roadside stands,
Miles of travel watching for flea market sales,
Electronic games and puppy dog tales,
Little brother’s laugh echoing for miles around,
Counting farms and houses before the next town,
Tired and grumpy after an hour or two,
A fight or argument and a quarter is due,
A roll of quarters for each child,
Dwindling down as behavior turns wild,
Happy is the child who manages to maintain,
Happy are the parents who don’t hear them complain,
Watching billboards, children play the alphabet game,
From license plates they learn the states by name,
A day of travel with few fights and no fuss,
Is there a family as happy as us?
We have good times aplenty as we travel afar,
Though crowded together in my old red car.
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They’re in the Same Zoo
Hastkaar Yantra based on medieval Rajasthani painting. Hallway wall-painting at Charles Correa’s Jawahar Kala Kendra in Jaipur, designed in 1993. Each of it’s 9 enclosed sections is named after a planet and display a variety of textiles, crafts, weapons, etc. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
They’re in the Same Zoo
Who owns the night?
Yes! It might be the owls
When they take flight.
Gliding noiselessly looking for prey,
Tirelessly searching till the break of day.
They dance in the darkness
Above the sheltering trees,
Spinning and swooping
Where no one sees.
But there are others who boldly emerge,
Out of shelters and lairs,
Ready to party
In the cool night airs,
Carousing wolves primp and preen,
Expecting to greet foxes
Who want to be seen.
Who owns the day?
It might be the eagles
See! High above they soar,
Looking for a big moment,
With a chance to score.
No time to dance, sing or play,
They have to be ready
If opportunity comes their way.
When neons shut down
And sunlight caresses the trees,
Fortunes are made
By eagles who seize.
Golden moments are in hand
For a bull or a bear
Making split second decisions
Like they really don’t care.
Who rules the night?
Is it the night owls
When they take flight?
Who owns the day?
Is it the eagles
Who work the hours away?
Denizens of the night
And citizens of the day
Keep the world spinning
By the roles they play.
It continues to be true
If they walk or fly,
They’re in the same zoo
Beneath the same sky.
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Join Me for Coffee
English: A photo of a cup of coffee. Esperanto: Taso de kafo. Français : Photo d’une tasse de caffé Español: Taza de café (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Join Me for Coffee
“Good morning! Have a cup of coffee with me,
Relax and enjoy, what a great day it will be,
We’ll discuss the news and what went wrong,
Our place in the universe and where we belong,
We’ll talk about the drought and why we don’t have rain,
Aunt Lulu’s flowers and Sandi’s recent weight gain,
We’ll talk about most everything except you and me,
We’re afraid to confront our feelings and what we really see,
I know you belong to another who calls me his friend,
But without you in my arms the nights never end,
Let’s talk about the weather and time spent together,
If people have noticed, will storm clouds gather?
Our love is a relationship between you and me,
We need to decide how we want it to be,
Our families, our friends, not many will approve,
Should we stand and face them, or should we move?
Join me for coffee, or do you prefer tea?
I want to know how this will be,
Open for all to see, love in the sun,
Or living in darkness and love on the run?
Join me for coffee, please don’t hesitate,
I’m ready for love, and my love won’t wait.”
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She’s Unique!
1805-courtship-caricature (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
She’s unique in every aspect,
She stands out in any crowd,
I can’t find words to describe her,
Except she makes me proud,
She’s a patriot to our country,
A mother to our child,
She’s the heart of our family,
A friend who drives me wild,
Love bubbles over in conversation,
There are sparkles in her eyes,
Things she does and things she says,
Always catch me by surprise,
Why do I think she’s special?
I love her more each day,
She always treats me like a king,
She’s a queen in every way,
How is she different from the others?
Why did I ask her to change her name?
I’ve always found her intriguing,
And it’s clear she loves me the same.
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Welcome to the Valley
English: The eastern Tehachapis: Tehachapi Mountain, Double Mountain, Covington Mountain (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
From the Tehachapi Mountains into the valley I drove at a steady but cautious pace because I was both excited and tired from the long journey. I was determined to remain positive as I passed brown sun-baked grass and dried up orchards. Town after town flew by, few of them thriving or prospering, and it shook my confidence.
What did I have to look forward to? I remembered the words of my brother. “There will be no rent . Just take care of the place. Everything is in tip-top shape. You won’t need anything.” Those promises were comforting as I prepared to collapse and relax when I finally stopped in the drive-way of my new home.
I had already inspected the house and grounds so when the moving van arrived, workers I had hired were ready to unload. Everything I had was unloaded with care in the hopes nothing was broken there.
While furniture was set up in designated locations I mused over discrepancies in what I expected and what was reality. The house was not in good shape. The exterior had recently been painted blue and looked nice but the interior needed some repair. The bathrooms were my biggest concern because minerals in the water had corroded the copper lines and the shower heads were plugged. The toilets were so rusted out they needed to be replaced. Throughout the house major cleaning was necessary along with minor repairs.
Outside, the yard was enormous and green. Then I saw the fruit trees and stared openmouthed. “This is a Garden of Eden!” I stated emphatically. There were peaches, nectarines, pomegranates, persimmons, oranges, grapes, pears, figs, and more. I thought, “This is where I can begin a new life.”
With over three acres of orchard and lawn the house had to have a name. “Green Acres” was a fitting name because I was from the city learning country life over again. It would be like the TV series and it would be fun.
During the first week I celebrated each time I emptied a box and put its contents away. The pile of empty boxes grew taller until one day I flattened them out and took them to the recycling center. I was trying to do my part in the recycling effort.
I planted a garden in my spare time. Hot days, warm nights and water brought rapid growth. Tomatoes, peppers, squash, cantaloupe, pumpkin, and watermelon were soon thriving. I eventually got a bumper crop of tomatoes but the rest of the produce? The rabbits and ground squirrels had their way. But that’s another story or two.
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The Reality of Life
Everyday Life in Armash (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
I am bathed now as I once was, Sponged off and towel dried, But where are the powder and soft skin, I think both were gone long ago, I eat now as I once ate, Soft spooned foods then towel wiped, But where are the foods that I like, Gone with the teeth I once had, I listen to stories as I once did, Short stories that make me glad, But where are the fairy tales of greed and lust, Swallowed up in the reality of everyday life, Where are the friends I once knew, Who traveled down these roads of life, Have they changed, too, as time went by, Or have they escaped the ravages of time, As I sit and remember the days gone by, I find I have returned to my nest, Where things are the same as they once were, Swallowed up in the reality of life.
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Over the Mountain
Close up of a grizzly bear cub at the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
As I came over the mountain rise,
Two bear cubs blocked my way,
They were cute but raised my concern,
I asked, “Where is your mother today?”
A tremendous roar filled the air,
Expressing her desire to kill,
That’s why I’m standing here,
And she’s on yonder hill,
I didn’t realize I could run so fast,
Nothing could slow me down,
All I know is she finally gave up,
And my feet were homeward bound,
If you’re ever on Paradise ridge,
And cubs are busy at play,
Do all you can to avoid the bears,
And please stay out of my way.
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