Like riding a mechanical four by four
and getting to see so much more,
encountering hardships and serious bumps
and not being hindered by enormous dumps,
advancing slowly and becoming very dented,
still reaching to feel so contented.

A sports car on a smooth and attended road
gives satisfaction in a different mode,
captures and thrills by the speed of it all,
one can simply enjoy and really have a ball.

And a regular and ordinary car I need
that keeps a more standard speed
to stay on track with others – at least try,
and fix the basic stuff for me and my.

If I’ve got a driver there’s no way I can know;
I can only guess at where my wheels will go.
For I’m just a passenger who does my best to see
glimpses through windows of what the world can be.

*

Sometimes I so enjoy travelling
with my surroundings fast unravelling.
These journeys can feel hypnotic
and make my mind less chaotic.
I like immensely to be able to roam
but mostly I prefer to stay at home.

*

This cat of an amazing grace
approaches life at a very varied pace.
She mostly just rests in a favourite place
but sometimes starts a frantic race.

It’s difficult to interpret her gaze
and she seems to have a poker face
but of true deception there’s no trace.

She inhabits an extremely different space
and I’m glad she’s here in any case.

*

An offering of
somewhat late or early valentines
for drawing the nessecary lines
between all you’s and me’s.
Take some, please.

*

The profusion of flowers
emitting delicate powers
that can be truly ours
till the very last hours.





*

This rough compass with a fireplace
is in my mind to make some space.
A fire that mostly burns in my sleep
in an obscure place that lies very deep.

 I’m surrounded by an enormous heap
that without these flames becomes too steep
to master even with an Olympic leap.

Igniting tough debris that hinders
is helped by old persisting cinders.
Ashes and non flammables always remain;
all worth keeping I seem able to retain.

For a time there opens a way to go on
that I can rely at least a while upon.

Smoke from my mouth.

*

December with the dark and intimate setting
enhances the lights that keep me from forgetting
that without people all would be much darker
and in our own eyes considerably starker.

Darkness and light in this proportion
saves me from anguish and distortion;
with the contrast to direct my gaze
since too much light makes all a haze.

*

Interiors of some old churches, when I’m there alone,
have such fine details and colors of an exquisite tone
that seem to contribute to my exceptional feeling
of an awe that has little to do with kneeling.

It seems to have something to do with the ceiling,
though I never find a complete revealing
of why it’s so appealing.

It’s not the same when I’m not alone inside;
I can’t put my awareness of the others aside.
So many varied feelings a church can provide;
like the unique religion of one who sits beside.
Faith based on all those countless who have tried
to hand down essences of revelations worldwide
and shifts in what’s considered best to hide
many distortions and difficulties to decide
about what’s left to confide.

These constant changes will always reside
but some churches remain to give me pride.
 
Then I go outside.





*

This African bear in the night
might well give you a fright
but in the morning and with a bow
he could sing for all I know.

*

If you find a bark baby
it’s no wonder that maybe
you’ll become more glad
and the baby less sad.

*

Shoes of an intriguing kind
bring thoughts to my mind;
as which she wants to try
and how to make the carpet fly.

*

A damaged wooden figurehead
is now considered lost and dead.
If you find her in the jean-blue sea
will she come alive at your plea?

*

The cat in the wood
will surely be good
if the girl on the edge
sends it a pledge.

*

Salinger’s smile
will stay for a while
if the girl turns to him
without feeling grim.





*

The child in the tree
says that you’re free
to do as you choose
with nothing to lose.

The child in the tree
is here for you to see
that it’s never too late
to unlock the garden gate.

*

This cat is curious and wild
and although usually quite mild,
it might turn into a rage
if you turn another page.

*

If I could grasp all this
would it feel like a bliss?
The sun, the bones, the very atom
must really be hard to fathom.

*

Some rings on these fingers
give impressions that lingers;
of self and cherished others,
strange thoughts and their mothers

*

Open up this flaming gate
for true love might be your fate.
Then return whenever you can
and give some to us fellow man.

*

This cat is surely very blue
but I don’t know if it’s really true.
The falling leaves seem very free
but how’s the storm that shakes the tree?

*

I craved another miracle for all mankind.
Some wonders of it all we then might find.
Light snow should fall on every land,
each snowflake as different as every hand.

*

A rug of many grounds
for prayers of various sounds.
But they might all unite
in their ceaseless fight
for the band of humankind
and each inscrutable mind.

*

I don’t understand a single thing.
My mind seems worse than Sing Sing.
Being both the convict and the guard,
to agree on anything is very hard.

*

Many are more afraid than I,
though I barely try to touch the sky.
I’m far too scared to drive a car,
convincing me I’m not such a star.
My hands are trembling very much,
bewildered by others sense of touch.

*

If only a mustache on every man,
an Alice band on all girls that can
and different scarves could ensure
that peace would always be secure.

*

Please just shake hands
to save our lands
and don't bear any grudges,
for all of us will be judges.

*

Psychoses of a distinguished order
thriving on an elevated mental border
and giving almost intolerable sensations
of both anguish and wonderful elations.

My mind seems reined more loosely
and though my hands sweat profusely
 since I’m really feeling scared as hell,
I’m also soaring in a fearless spell.

*

I took this portrait of me one day
though I’m not sure what it has to say.
It’s rather intriguing in some ways
but I can’t see myself in that face.

When I hear my recorded voice
I cringe at the very foreign noise
that’s naturally mine but still not;
my being is an uncomfortable lot.

What I mostly recognize as being me
are lines and images that come to be
a grid through which I’m able to reveal
another me that feels much more real.

*

What am I, who comes from the depths of the cave?
What subtle movement will this moment crave?
Have I been standing here for an enormous time?
Only just now noticed in a manner so sublime?

I’ve climbed so many levels to find them here;
this group that’s to me quite vitally dear.
Is one person inviting me to join them now?
If so, I’ll try to find some way how.

*

I recieve visits from someone at wahome.ru.
I wish I knew more than that about you.
I have gathered some things russian to see
some other things that are crucial to me.




*

There are clothes that I esteem
for bringing me closer to the dream
of finding the right mixtures
for creating astounding pictures
with meanings far from clear
but saying things I can almost hear.




*

“Apples barely grazed by slender silver swords”
may be the kind her well-being ultimately affords.
Although at first they can be judged as spoilt and bad
these apples might be the very best that can be had.




*

Be even cooler!
Let Hillary/Barack be the ruler;
together hand in hand
and lead us to the promised land.
Oops, I forgot about John McCain,
he should join and we will all gain.

Now Obama did win
and wisely let the others in.
Trying to see everyones view
must be the way to start anew.
This can be the right ground
to reach decisions that are sound.

Gloves and mittens fill the bag
that has an overwhelming tag:
For every frozen hand
in every godforsaken land



*