I am the blue porcelain bowl
got in China
with a chip inside
rim of my bottom ring

only I know it's there

there was a defect
in firing when I was
made -- left a fissure
so small it went unnoticed

lady from San Francisco
who bought me in Guangdong
brought me home
never noticed invisible crack
under me

on trans-Pacific voyage
a little piece fell off --
packing box never told
about sliver of blue

We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person. -William Somerset Maugham, writer (1874-1965)

We're chained to the post
Prometheus at most
tedious forebears of a terrible task
trying to love those who love us best -
even though the passion has past.

Throwing stones on the pond
the ripples ever widening the effect
on the center
Continually expanding and dividing
our responses changing,
but impasse is a formidable mentor.

As finality draws near
I see the world as ecstacy
beyond transition,
each instant burgeoning delight,
unfolding outwards into endlessness
where every second's thought
becomes eternal,
each moment's choice
a new beginning
reaching to realities unknown
until the present catches up with past
and future hurries by,
time decreasing in echoed infinities
between duration's measure
and hope's treasure
of emerald lands that shout beneath
bright shores by gleaming seas

They are new lovers
swept into that strange intensity
of sudden pleasure's fumbling delight,
where eagerness and want make mind reject
all proprieties of limit
and urgency demands both touch
and captivation.

Steve Mc Queen, we call him, he's a grand old gent
He's slightly hard of hearing and his body's bent

He don't remember me, but that is quite alright
I say my name is Guy, and click his seat-belt tight

We talk about the things we see, where he used to go
I say; Oh, is that right? But the script is one I know

He goes to church each Sunday, from the nursing home
Sometimes he lapses silent, I watch his mind go roam

Pontoon

With this hand of cards I've been dealt
I make the choices without regret
I choose my path along this bumpy road
As it digs me in, to deeper debt

This hand of cards is full of jokers
I make the call and await my fate
I stand at the crossroads in my way
I know my decision, I nervously wait

Decision made
Flick of the wrist
I watch you twist

I should've stuck
But I took the risk
I bust as you twist

I often read of optimism,
of utopian enlightenment
seen through hopeful prism
of largesse and entitlement.

Sometimes I hear positive language
that speaks of strength and light
and the power of love's advantage
flooding all our futures bright.

But what I actually see,
when in clime of real life
I confront bleak reality,
is runaway unfettered strife,

and what I inevitably feel
when watching world's collapse
is that warfare will be the deal
in the wake of our care's lapse:

.
I dream the caveman that dwells within
doth triumph over
my soft and genteel nature

dumb and dull
grunting and groaning my voice
stuffing slim pickings into a yawing mouth
over a pool of dirty droppings

Who's there?
I don't know
Why not?

Who are you?
I'm you
No, you're not

Look close
I see me
Do you?

Watching fiercely, and glowing bright,
Mother moon, gaurdian of night.
Goddess of twilight,she protects so well,
There to defend, where dark things dwell.

She catches nightmares,with the power of love
Sweeps them away on the wings of a dove,
Do not fear night, for she is the queen,
Glowing in the sky, proud to be seen.