Category: Poems – people

A Face

A Face

There is a face etched in my mind

A face ever so kind

I spotted that face visiting my hometown

A face I have known for so long

Loving and gentle as a beautiful song

A moment in time oh so strong

Half a century passed like the mist of a white gown

I knew that smile, a circle came around

Now An old lady, still in my hometown

Same house

Same furniture

Pictures of her husband, long gone

Pictures of her children




Each picture reflects a life aging

Each picture reflects a love raging

Each picture reflects a moment in time

As a child we left with anxiety

Immigrated to a land across the sea.

Now, I’m still moved by her ageless face of love,

As She poured a cup of tea

with a symbol of a dove

She died soon after

But here is my thought

She left a legacy with just her smile

Her touch

Her love

 Her care

How will we present the face we share

In 50 years will someone care





My grandmother died of pneumonia.

In nineteen fifty three

I was seven

I hardly remember her.

So long ago


I still feel her love.

Going Down

Going down

A little boy in a little house

Surrounded by big hearts in a big city

Bed time

So he grabbed Grover

With Grover under one arm and a book under the other

He announced “we’re going down”

Down to the bedroom

Down to a world of sleep

Between the real and unreal

From the known to unknown

To go to sleep requires a brave heart

You need a friend for the journey

You need a good story before the trip

Reduction sauce

Reduction Sauce

Standing in the kitchen.


Cradling a glass of merlot.


Her hands, stirring, the reduction sauce.

She stirs,

I am reduced in thought.

Thoughts of those hands.

Holding children.

Holding me.

Those hands have held my head in tears.

In love.


Those hands have shaped me.

I am the sauce.

reduced to awe.

elated to be in her vessel.


Hear that rhythm


I want to hear that rhythm.

I want to soak up jazz,

that, boom, boom, beat.

Licks fade but never sleep.


The language of jazz

is willing within.

Can’t be translated,

such a sensational sin.

You taste the feel.

You tap your glass.

You say “oh yeah”.

Hit the rim of your hat,

when they swing B flat.


Coffee compliments the feel.

Bourbon aids to heighten your zeal.

Love spins your head to the grooves

A perfect partner for your blues.


Live jazz is where it’s at,

discover your joint and call it a wrap.

That place is an intellectual key.

Your rhythmic finish is a footnote in G.


Find a stick and start the beat.

Read a poem to create some heat.

Snap your fingers for the fusion.

Life at its finest a musical illusion .




So often melancholy visits.

Like a dear friend unannounced,

we talk, yearning of the past.

Please leave now I must ask,

“Why” she says, “there’s more”.

It can not be.

Do you see,

There is




There will be a time when all will end

That’s far away, how bout your friend?

Care for him do what you can

Aids is his companion

Now is the instance

what will you do

Will you touch?

Do you




Lipstick was the taste in my mouth.

Tasting it before I woke, sweet with thought,

then got up with my friend,  headache.

She was gone.

Truth is she was gone before I met her.

Aches will return, she will not.

Years ago our lives circled the same sun

Her body, is the only object circling in my head

We dreamed, we loved, we fought, we made up, we made love.

Two dream moons circling the future.

Our orbits shifted over the years

Now I’m empty as the bottles in my room.

A chance encounter last night

Through music loud like a sonic boom

Her sight pulled me, as black holes do

No need to tell

No job

No goal

Just revolving around a sun

Last night she understood, she knew.

I reminded her of my potential left undone.

She reminded me of everything I did not become.

Our orbits now are wider.

Our only future, a possible eclipse

Our night.

Our encounter.

Our orbital collision.

Shook me like no other bang.



So, there she sat alone with her hat

Wondering where he might have been.

She knew not. He was with him.

She knew he craved her hat.

But he thought for him.

She kept waiting.

Time to come

for him.


A Girl called G

A Girl Called G.

Do you wanna meet a rock star?

Do you wanna meet a movie star?

Do you wanna be a star?

Thousands line the streets to see royalty.

Thousands pay to hear politicians speak.

None of them have met a girl called G.

We all want to be near the rich and famous.

Just to say to others how it feels.

Or maybe see if a touch will heal.

Magazines full of glamour.

Book racks full of self help bullshit.

None of them have met a girl called G.

G’s Facebook reads as follows.

G is single female

1 friend in common 


    “I am the cutest thing on earth”


    Nightclubs, Internet, shopping, concerts, travel

    I am my own valentine because I’m so fucking cute



Favorite music.

     Lady gaga, all 90’s music, 50 cents, Eminem, Kesha

Favorite TV shows

      Two and a half men, 90210, big bang theory, 

Favorite movies

      Hangover, sex and the city, soul surfer

Favorite book

      Anne of Green Gables

About me.

          I’m smart as a whip, a little shy, don’t be afraid to talk with me.

          I have cerebral palsy, I can not walk or talk.

Spend an hour with G, over any royalty,

your life will be enriched for ever, not the moment.