Love Sick

Where have you gone, my love?
I cannot see or hear you near.
You are so very far.
Can we get back from this? From here?

We used to breathe each other in,
Inhaling every look and smile.
And is it now hiding within?
Or has it left us for a while?

“It” being love, exhilaration,
An all-consuming lust and passion.
For others, there was no temptation.
It was reality, not fashion.

I mean, it “is,” not “was,” but “is.”
It is my life, my love, my glory.
I want it here and I want this
To be my only life-long story.

How do I get you back, my dearest?
Where and how far can I now go?
I will search wide and also nearest.
We will feel love once again flow.


Attraction to another you…
Doesn’t it seem so simple and

Then why do all the self-righteous
Send so much of their energy trying
To convince others that it is

Ours is the age of reason,
An age of hopeful change.
Or is it the age of changing hope?
Where are we all headed?

Perhaps there is an overwhelming
Acceptance that is in store.
Yet it is possible that all we’re getting
Is the chilly “tolerance.”
We have yet to see.

But isn’t it idiotic to fight
Over a notion that is entirely
Easy to understand, as if
Putting two and two together?


The wise ones do not believe
That they have answers to all questions.
The happy ones have not achieved
Their joy by trying to be perfect.

Women live, they move on,
They persevere in a storm.
They are remarkable and true
To their nature.

The greatest disappointment
To their Creator is when they
Shamelessly fight each other.
What a waste of time.

Women can resist their
Occasionally clashing tendencies,
Which means that, when united,
They can conquer the world.

The wise ones do not hate their
The happy ones learn to work

Each one is unique.
Each one has her story.

A beating heart

A beating heart.
Can it survive without any
Energy to sustain it?
Can it exist in a vacuum?
I do not think so.

It needs another heartbeat
To accelerate the rhythm
With which it is pumping the blood
Through the rest of the body.

A beating heart cannot race,
But it will stop,
When the propelling force that
Motivated it suddenly
Ceases to exist.

I imagine that there is a whole
Universe of hearts that stopped
Through no fault of their own.
Should we call them broken?

A beating heart exists
Inside my chest.
It is whole because of