Day 56 - Alone (poem)

ALONE

We have the instincts
of pack animals,
huddled for safety.
Our fight or flight
response makes any conflict
seem life or death.  To face

that potent cocktail
of evolution and chemistry
to see if the message
it sends is true takes iron
will and a willful disregard
for our enchanting

hubris.  The strongest alpha
still relies on its pack.  The weakest
loner can never be
drawn back to it.

Day 55 - Summer Olympics (poem)

SUMMER OLYMPICS

I'm a sucker
for all the chlorine spitting,
chalk dusting, sand
tripping, false starting, and
even the crazy ping
pong serving of it all.

Day 54 - Aurora (poem)

AURORA

It sickens me.
All this post-tragedy
posturing for political points.
It's not about guns.
A highly motivated madman
is what killed those people, not
guns.  And a theater full of untrained,
unregulated gun ownership
wouldn't have prevented
a highly motivated, wanna be
Joker.  It would have left dead
scores more in the confusion,
darkness and chaos.  It's not about God
either.  God didn't save anyone.  God didn't
punish anyone.  If He had any hand in it at all
then He's an asshole.  And so are we
if we spend a moment thinking
of anything but those poor victims
of a senseless crime.

Day 53 - Vacation (poem)

VACATION

Family time
in a house built on 40 years
of love.  Nearby

a pond so green it nearly matches
the beauty of my wife's eyes.
Kids beside themselves
with the joy of so much
special.  A breath

of fresh air
that takes so many
of the world's small ills
away.

Day 52 - Reincarnation (poem)

REINCARNATION

I'm going
to put today behind
me and hope
it stays there.

Perhaps the new
morning will bring
gentle smiles and the murmur
of peaceful waking.

I hope it doesn't
still feel like I got punched
in the heart.

Day 51 - How 'Bout Them Apples (poem)

HOW 'BOUT THEM APPLES

I have a nearly unhealthy
love of those big, delicious
red orbs of sweet juicy goodness.

A new bag of giant Red
Delicious makes me happy
on a deep, personal level.

It can be crushing
when the bruises run
all the way through, or
that slight tinge of sickly
green remains inside
indicating a dry sourness.

But the potential
disappointment is totally worth it
when you get that perfect bag.

Day 50 - Hugs (poem)

HUGS

It was 6th grade
the first time a hug
was more than a hug.

She had blonde hair,
and smelled like strawberries.
My whole body lit up
and I would have

donned knight's armor and slayed
dragons for the reward of that feeling.
I know much more
now, but still

I find little that I love
more than a simple, heartfelt
embrace.