Diabetes Tells Us We're Machines

Diabetes tells us we're machines,
Intended to exist but for a time.
All that brought us pleasure in our prime
Breaks down to prove the metal of our means.
Eventually, all of us must die,
Though, perhaps, not quite so bit-by-bit.
Each soul must see of life the whole of it,
So as to know of death the reason why.
Death Rides with Us on Our Ecstasy
Death rides with us on our ecstasy,
Unwanted fellow traveler of joy,
Wanderer within our will to be,
Finding in our promiscuity
Multiple partners to pillage and destroy.
Death rides with us on our ecstasy,
Seed within our seed sown carelessly
By dupes who would the enemy deploy,
Wanderer within our will to be,
Foiled alone by a society
Whose common strength of will does each will buoy.
Death rides with us on our ecstasy,
Less threatening the more fidelity
Fences off the flesh with which we toy.
Wanderer within our will to be,
AIDS, if nothing else, has helped us see
That we must love if we would lust enjoy.
Death rides with us on our ecstasy,
Wanderer within our will to be.
Debbie
Debbie has donated her right kidney,*
Ever generous, even with her life.
Being is a gift to be passed on
Before one's private miracle is done,
Image of a grace not grace enough
Except when given to another gladly.
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Simple Pleasures Rest on Complex Piers

Simple pleasures rest on complex piers
Engineered to stand against the wind,
A latticework of love that lasts the years,
Steel lace on which we ply our passions blind.
On certain days, however, we recall
Necessary links to worlds below,
Seasons of remembrance that with small
Gifts of grace rekindle what we know.
Revel, then, within, and celebrate
Each tangled thread that binds you to your life,
Embracing the regrets that are your fate,
Traveling again the roads to light.
In such sweet seasons love, however wrought,
Neither what you feared nor what you sought,
Grants audience to sentiment unstained,
So pure but treasured tinctures are retained.
Sing of All the Pleasures of the Season
Sing of all the pleasures of the season!
Each moment sing as time awaits your song!
All your senses savor, with good reason,
Such delights as will not last for long.
Open up your heart to love and laughter!
Nor need you mourn who've fallen by the way.
Sing, and put aside what you are after,
Giving to sweet revelry its day!
Reason not with winter but remember:
Each moment is a canticle to being.
Even in the dark month of December,
This tiny cosmos is well worth the seeing.
Into now pour all your joy and sorrow,
Nor ought you stint on anything you feel,
Giving all your caution to tomorrow,
Sing, singing that the Earth might heal.
Sing of the Holidays That End the Year
Sing of the holidays that end the year!
Each cause for celebration and reflection.
As darkness rules the earth, sing of good cheer,
Sustained by will and nourished by affection.
Of Christmas, Hanukkah, and New Year's Eve,
Now sing that you might magnify the light!
Sing, for in your joy you will believe,
Granted grace throughout the bitter night.
Rekindle for these reckonings the fire
Each carries as a favor to the heart,
Eloquent of rapture and desire,
Twin grounds of both sincerity and art.
In quest of fellowship and common feeling,
Needing company, nor care concealing,
Giving and receiving equal measure,
Sing, then, of passion, faith, and simple pleasure!
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Sense Makes Little Sense This Time of Year

Sense makes little sense this time of year.
Each has reason to dispense with reason.
As darkness soon descends, the festive season
Shines out upon vast rolling fields of fear.
Old customs still survive, long loved and dear,
Now bought and sold, it's true, as is the fashion,
Still filling faith with poetry and passion,
Giving to dark days a touch of cheer.
Reason says there's little cause for worry:
Electric lights have long since tamed the darkness;
Even winter doesn't wish us harm,
Taught to be a nuisance well contained.
In our hearts, though, time still stirs the slurry;
Now the dark stokes fears of nothingness.
Gifts mean more, and love becomes the warm
Sanctum in which hope can be sustained.
Shine like a Moon upon Your Field of Snow
Shine like a moon upon your field of snow!
Each buried root awaits the touch of spring
As you to your own celebrations bring
Such glory as reflects from down below.
Of mirrors let us sing, and holy light
Not ours, that yet we spread across the darkness,
'Twixt eternity and nothingness
Shining to illuminate the night.
Gardens wait, and naked stands of trees;
Rivers wait, and lakes, and frozen streams.
Eden waits to try again its dreams,
Enduring underneath our cruelties.
The world reflects your moonlight, white and still.
In what you see is what you are, though time
Needs cycles of the wind and of the will,
Granting to each sentiment its clime
So you may each sense of life fulfill.
Short Days Augur Longer Ones
Short days augur longer ones
Even as the cold
Alights upon the early gloom,
Sailing on the wind.
One feels the chill inside one's bones;
Night too soon takes hold.
So we light the festive room,
Gathering within.
Remember those long summer days,
Each a little shorter?
Evenings had a touch of grief
Trailing behind.
In each sharp turn, time delays
Not only change of weather.
Gripped by passion or belief,
Slowly we unwind.
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The Being of Being is Being

The being of being is Being;
The being of nothing is none.
And if you find this so much nonsense,
At least it will do you no harm.
Now nothing is nothing, for certain;
And something is something, for sure.
Since something cannot come from nothing,
It must be eternally there.
And though it is hard to imagine
Since time is our air and our sea,
No thing will ever be nothing,
Though we will not always be we.
The Girls Meet Once a Month
The girls meet once a month
(Shall we call their meetings "monthlies"?)
To dis/cuss guys and udder things.
Why girls only?
Because guys get too hard
To deal with
When girls are around.
Tonight's topic is Poe-etry.
(Don't get too scared!)
A raven lunar tic
(Let's call him the Louse of Brush Her)
Has gotten, like most guys, into my hair.
So I brush him off onto Anabel's knee.
To be Poe-etic, one should be a ghoul rather than a guy,
And have monthly meat things
For ghouls only.
So let the Poe-etry be gin!
There Is a Dark and Gloomy Place
There is a dark and gloomy place where choices
Have their homes and wait upon your touch.
After long and futile waits for voices,
You must, alas!, sign on to such-and-such.
A family in a circle warm and loving:
Less sweet? or more? than living lone and free?
A choice in darkness, both sides fiercely shoving:
My heart is yours, whichever it might be!
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I Love Them Both, Can't Have Them Both

I love them both, can't have them both.
It's tearing me apart!
My former joy and present boy:
Both have got my heart.
I have to choose, so I must lose
Someone I really love.
It feels like dirt that I must hurt
A guy that I dream of.
Why this must be I cannot see;
I only know I must.
Each might endure, for I am sure
That this is love, not lust.
I weep and wail to no avail;
I can't say no to either.
But if I can't tell what I want,
Could that mean I want neither?
I Love You & Etc.
I love you & etc.
As I have never loved.
You are the one, of all so far,
That I'm most certain of.
I'll do anything, etc.,
To keep your cool green eyes,
And make you smile that golden smile,
And still your lonely sighs.
You're the greatest & etc.
Guy I've ever met.
Right now you are my heart and soul,
Etcetera & etcet.
Linda Was Quite Lonely
Linda was quite lonely
On the day of love.
No one cared how well she fared
Or which way she might move.
No one thought her lovely
Or dreamed of her caress,
Or so she thought until she bought
A sexy dark red dress.
That dress had seemed a failure,
Though she had lost some weight.
Some men stared, but no one cared
Enough to make a date.
Her calendar was empty,
As empty as her heart,
When in this hell she heard the bell
And jumped up with a start.
Could it be? Oh, could it?
Here was her salvation!
To her joy a delivery boy
Was holding a carnation.
"Carnation-Gram," the boy said,
And handed her the box.
Who was it from? Perhaps someone
Who thought she was a fox.
All Linda's sadness vanished
As if it never were.
That little flower had the power
To set her heart astir!
And so when Johnny called her
In a little while,
She was primed in heart and mind
To greet him with a smile.
So please remember Linda
When starting a relation:
Her mood reversed when she got first
A single, cheap carnation!
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I Can't Believe I'm Marrying/ My Grandma's Paperboy

I can't believe I'm marrying
My grandma's paperboy!
She said that you were "dreamy"
And the sort I would enjoy.
My grandma! Well, I humored her
And took a look at you,
And saw, those many years ago,
That what she said was true.
But not so fast, because we lived
A continent apart,
And were too young to comprehend
The wisdom of the heart.
We needed time to grow into
The truth that we had seen,
And let some others stampede through
The years that came between.
But Grandma always said that you
Were just the one for me,
And now we are all gathered here
To publicly agree!
How often can we say that love
Was truly at first sight?
But since I first laid eyes on you,
I've known Grandma was right!
I Have a Monster Crush on You
I have a monster crush on you,
A super-dinosaur!
It sits upon my chest and throat
And yet I beg for more.
When you're away I miss you so
My heart is full of sand.
Yet when you're here my stupid fear
Won't let me touch your hand.
I cannot sleep, I cannot eat,
I'm so wrapped up in you.
My thoughts drift up, away from words,
And fade into the blue.
I know this crush is not your fault;
The dinosaur is mine.
Yet if you could, please rescue me,
And put your arms around me, and hold me, and say
you love me, and Oh! God! Would that be good!
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A Receptionist Is a Person

A receptionist is a person (please note!),
Usually female, whose job is to receive.
Like her male cousin, the wide receiver,
She receives frequent passes from her own team
And abusive hits from visitors playing the field.
At times she is asked to do an end run
Around some office rival,
Or to execute a play
That is clearly out of bounds.
Should she complain,
She might find herself
Standing on the unemployment lines
Or sitting on the beach.
At times she is sorely tempted
To call a strike.
(But that's another sport!)
A Turbonut Is Not a Nut
A turbonut is not a nut:
In fact, it is quite sane.
And though it's smart, it doesn't smart
While others might cause pain.
It has some meat inside its shell,
Though hardly meet to meet;
And while most nuts are oval shaped,
Its feet are quite a feat.
It likes to think, from time to time,
It's Chairman of the Bored;
So mouse or board, it hops on board
A site it can afford.
Well, now I've bored you with the puns
That turbonuts enjoy;
I've done my due--that's all I'll do--
To buoy up girl or boy.
A Valentine Is Nothing Like
A Valentine is nothing like
A chocolate or a rose.
For in a week these shall be gone,
But Valentines remain.
If love were always sweet to tongue
Or fragrant to the nose,
Each day would be like Valentine's,
And we would go insane.
A Valentine just hangs around
Waiting to be kissed
Long after special days have passed
And every days are here.
So one is wise to choose one well
And chocolates to resist.
For in the midst of mania
It's nice to have one near.
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May Our Friendship Last Forever

May our friendship last forever;
May I sail upon your sea.
May we go through life together;
May there always be a "we."
May I be your endless sky;
May you breathe my gentle air.
May you never wonder why
Each time you look for me, I'm there.
May we be for each a smile
Like the warm, life-giving sun;
Yet when we're in pain awhile,
May our suffering be one.
May we share our special days,
The happiness of one for two;
And if we must go separate ways,
Let my love remain with you.
May Poetry Flow
May poetry flow
From your moonlit garden,
From your cool, dark fountain,
Untouched by age.
May your spirit read
The book of life
With the same enchantment
As the child within.
My Tears Are Not of Loss
My tears are not of loss
But of time too quickly gone.
I miss our days together
Even while they're going on.
I savor odd, sweet moments
When you laugh or when you smile,
Nostalgic for your presence
Though you're with me all the while.
Strange how fantasy
Can wander in and out at will,
Looking back from somewhere
That is just beyond a hill.
And so when once you leave
You will not leave me alone,
For I will have you with me
Long, long after you are home.
Of You I Know So Much
Of you I know so much, and yet
Nothing that I know
Encompasses just who you are
Or explicates your glow.
For you I would do anything,
As you would do for me.
Knowing this is breathing life:
Intense, serene, and free.
No one else so touched my soul
Deep in, with charity.
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How Little in Me Is Not Touched by You

How little in me is not touched by you!
A friendship is a light that fills the heart,
Painting with its gold each darkened hue,
Providing warmth to each sequestered part.
You are the mirror of my better self,
Verifier of the best in me,
A bridge across the unsuspected gulf
Lodged between what can and ought to be.
Expectations can be wings, not bars,
Necessary to sustain our flight.
The faith of friends in us is wholly ours,
Incoming to uplift us to its height.
No soul can see itself, but must depend,
Each on each, upon a trusted friend.
I Do Not See You Often with My Eyes
I do not see you often with my eyes,
But often you are with me in my heart.
We rarely speak, but there are deeper ties
That keep us close while we must be apart.
Friendships don't depend on sights and sounds,
But on the mysteries of need and grace.
You're with me always, unrestrained by bounds,
In some sweet field more permanent than place.
And so your marriage is a widespread glory,
Shining on a world of more than two.
All the characters in your life story
Share the happiness that's come to you.
No love but must with all love intertwine:
The joy between you two is also mine.
I Don't Understand What Happened to Us
I don't understand what happened to us
Or why you have turned away.
Of course you are free to do as you like,
But first I have something to say.
To me it had seemed we could go on forever,
So close were our hearts, and at ease,
So much did we share, yet the words never faltered,
So I thought as time did as it pleased.
Whatever I did that has made you unhappy,
Or am that is not to your taste,
Or would be were I to return to your graces,
Or won't be if I am replaced:
I want you to know that your friendship is something
I treasure, and would not now end.
If you would be willing to turn to embrace me,
You'd find in me still a good friend.
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Thirty-Six

Thirty-six sets out on her career
Halftime, with her baby on her mind.
If women are emancipated, still,
Remaining issues wait upon the will,
That tends to track the turmoil of its kind,
Yearnings that can sing and soar and sear.
So must she balance melodies with skill,
Interior harmonies, by love designed,
X-rays of a heart that one can hear.
To the Heroines Still Not Well Known
To the heroines still not well known,
Those who would be famous were they men,
And those whose sunlight never fully shone,
Veiled for life behind men's fear of sin:
Now it's time your tales were well told,
Well past time you got your bit of glory!
We need to rescue you so that the old
Slant no longer skews our common story.
Those who love the truth and know the past
Is never past, that stories steer one's choices,
Will want to look for heroines in the vast
Store of women's lives and hear their voices.
For All That You Have Given Me
For all that you have given me,
I can return but love. For you
Bound up the wounds I did not see
And gave me hopes and passions new.
I can return but love for you,
Whose unmoved faith my heart did move,
And gave me hopes and passions new,
And loved me till I turned to love.
Whose unmoved faith did my heart move?
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Who loved me till I turned to love.
And I became the soul I would.
The mother of my heart, not blood,
Bound up the wounds I did not see.
And I became the soul I would
For all that you have given me.
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After All, the Earth Must Wait for Spring

After all, the Earth must wait for spring.
No angel ever changed the pace of time.
Goodness is still tucked away below,
Empty as a field asleep in snow,
Like iron in the harshness of that clime
As God is born in frozen Bethlehem.
Calendars May Mark the Tides of Love
Calendars may mark the tides of love;
However, please recall that love's the sea.
Rest easy, then, in Christmas' sweet madness,
Illumined by the pregnant star of gladness,
Serene within the depths of you and me.
There is no pain no happiness can move,
Making room for cherished company,
Antidote for life's incumbent sadness
So long as will and wisdom puissant prove.
Can Anyone Explain the Glow of Christmas
Can anyone explain the glow of Christmas?
Holidays are candles in the night.
Rebirth comes from family and friends
In one bright blur of food and talk that ends
Still burning as a peaceful inner light.
There is no way to substitute for Christmas.
Miss it and no circumstance feels right.
All my heart's with you, yet I must miss this
Season thick with love and rich delight.
Can the Wind Across the Snow
Can the wind across the snow
Howl enough of frozen pain?
Return to where the children go.
In love and hope begin again.
So did Christ return to Earth
That lovers might renew their love.
May all your longing bring to birth
A passion that no wind can move,
So strong no wind can stronger prove.
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Christmas Is a Time for Love and Fun

Christmas Is a Time for Love and Fun
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to reshape souls and roots and skies,
A time to give your heart to everyone
Freely, like a rich and lavish sun,
Like a burning star to those whose lonely sighs
Show need of such a time for love and fun.
For children first, whose pain is never done,
Whose bright white fire of anguish never dies,
It's time to give your heart to every one,
That not one angel fall, to hatred won
For lack of ears to listen to her cries,
Or arms to carry him towards love and fun,
Or friends to care what happens on the run
To adult life, where joy or sadness lies.
It's time to give your heart to everyone,
For God loves all, and turns His back on none,
Good or twisted, ignorant or wise.
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to give your heart to everyone.
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I Wish that I Could Bring You to the Lord

I Wish that I Could Bring You to the Lord
I wish that I could bring you to the Lord
Before you die, for I have faith that you
And I could be together if you knew
The truth that shines like laughter in His word.
I wish I had the hope that I could be
The instrument through which you'd understand
The love that waits upon your silent hand
To rush into your anguish like a sea.
I wish that you could feel the joy that I
Am filled with now I'm open to His love,
The miracles that daily in me move
So deep there is no need to question why.
I wish, I wish, I wish I could do more
To reach into the raptures of your heart.
But I can only do my humble part
While you and He meet naked at your door.
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Forty Years of Marriage Are a Pass

Forty years of marriage are a pass
On which one rests to see the view both ways,
Remembering the valleys left behind,
Taking in the grandeur just ahead.
Yet there is far too much for one to see.

Years of youth must blend like distant brass
Even as love knots the migrant days
And time blows through the moment like a wind.
Regret and gratitude are here well wed,
So much alike, one could the other be.


Forty Years Together You Have Loved

Forty years together you have loved,
Opening a door to love for me.
Romantic hearts bequeath a harmony
That proves more rich than any life might prove.
Years pour like water rapidly downstream,
Yielding harvests gleaned in fields to come,
Each waiting for the heart to bring it home,
Accumulating in an undreamt dream.
Rejoice, then, in a beauty never gone,
Sustained by songs more sweet because passed on.

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Our Mother Is the Sweetest

Our mother is the sweetest and
Most delicate of all.
She knows more of paradise
Than angels can recall.

She's not only beautiful
But passionately young,
Playful as a kid, yet wise
As one who has lived long.

Her love is like the rush of life,
A bubbling, laughing spring
That runs through all like liquid light
And makes the mountains sing.

And makes the meadows turn to flower
And trees to choicest fruit.
She is at once the field and bower
In which our hearts take root.

She is at once the sea and shore,
Our freedom and our past.
With her we launch our daring ships
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Have No Fear, for Love Is All Around You

Have no fear, for love is all around you.
All come helpless from a common womb.
Perhaps you do not know that love surrounds you.
Perhaps you do not know that you're in bloom.
Yet mothers, too, are children, ever loved,
Minded by the living and the dead,
Old enough to give, as time has proved,
The need no less, though time and tears have fled.
Have faith that love's a mystic tide that flows
Equally to and from the heart,
Returning, turning as it comes and goes,
'Mid moon and moon your sea, your song, your art.
Sing, then, of this moment of your giving,
Deep within the ebb and flow of living.
All you feel is what was felt for you,
Yearning your own yearning will renew.
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Happiness Can Also Be a Haunting

Happiness can also be a haunting,
A text one can recite but cannot read.
Peace need not erase the need for need,
Pressed to a perfection one finds daunting.
Yet often one can win with little warning,
Mothering the plant without the seed,
Of help in breeding though of different breed,
Taking pleasure in another's dawning.
How one feels depends on how one chooses,
Embracing always less that what one wills,
Redeeming even tragedy with passion
'Mid the sinking tapestries of night.
So may you find the courage that refuses
Dominion to the clarity that kills,
Awakening the mother that might fashion
Yearning strong enough to see the light.
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Arka Sıradakiler 115. Bölüm izle

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Arka Sıradakiler 115. Bölüm izleyebileceğiniz link.
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