When the need to be

right is so strong, how can we

ever admit we are wrong?

~

When we surrender

ego in the name of peace,

we demonstrate divine strength.

What helps us open

our hearts when the first thing we

encounter is pain?

~

Water is made of

hydrogen and oxygen;

likewise love and pain make life.

If agony serves

us as proof of life, are you

living to your fullest yet?

~

Living life to its

fullest, we experience

both extremes and the middle.

When someone asks, “How

do you do?” is it ok

to let them know that you don’t?

~

A “Howdie do” can

be courtesy or question.

Which can be hard to fathom.

Must we always rush

or can enough be enough

so we can enjoy the hush?

~

UnAmerican 

questions such as these are proof

we need to guard our borders.

 As we look ahead

to a new school year what would

be better to leave behind?

~

Car accidents and

shattered cell phone touch screens and

chronic procrastination.

How can flowers bloom

buffeted by ceaseless gales

mired in this vile sludge?

~

Is it our current

political climate of

which you poetically speak?

Has anyone tried

to sell you the Brooklyn Bridge

lately and did you buy it?

~

I would rather buy

a “bridge to nowhere” than one

that would take me to Brooklyn.

Will happiness be

found in some abandoned place

far from internets and memes?

~

What if it turns out

we are the abandoned place

where happiness lies waiting?

It’s Twenty Sixteen,

but why does it seem more like

Nineteen Eighty- Four?

~

Now, is the hour

of our discontent, beneath

Big Brother’s scornful scowl!

Does summer’s swelter

only saturate the skin

Or also soak the spirit?

~

Summer saturates

and simultaneously

inflames, but what can we do?

What greater pleasure

than awakening at home

after those lengthy travels?

~

Perhaps the heartfelt,

tail wagging, joyful greeting

from four-legged family.

How many Donald

Trump supporters does it take

to change a light bulb?

~

More interestingly,

how many does it take to

make that dim bulb bright again.

As the work week nears,

how can we suppress the dread

of that approaching grindstone?

~

There are those who say

to embrace the dread instead.

Do you think they’re fey?

If time and tide wait

for no man, should we women 

go ahead and seize the day?

~

Perhaps you women

can seize upon the rising 

tide, turning time’s tiny hands.

Can we take this peace,

in which we have been basking,

with us when we re-engage?

~

 We’ll know the answer

when the rubber hits the road

on the drive back home.

How do we betray

ourselves? Can we count the ways

or should we simply deny?

~

From our darkest fears

and with infantile faith,

we place our trust foolishly.

Did you enjoy it?

Abdicating to the young,

watching him pontificate?

~

It’s not the young I

find hard to take. Nope, it’s those

who claim to be well-seasoned.

Have you noticed how

time expands and contracts with

the changing beat of our hearts

~

Rhythms of nature

manifest in the pulsing

of seasons and ebbing tides.

Is the quietude

that we both are finding here

affecting our attitude?

~

In this quietude

I let myself lose my voice

in order to find it again.

Amid the endless 

flurry of words, how do we 

find our way to clarity?

~

Flowery verbiage 

and fiery rhetoric

are designed to sway the mind! 

Shall we write, basking

in sun warmed sands, seeking

serenity, or just read?

~

Just so it doesn’t

involve arithmetic, we’re

sure to find serenity.

If we were able

to seize the day, what would we

catch? What would we do with it?

~

Today, I would seize

a much needed vacation:

catch warm sun and cooling breeze.

How do we foster

motivation for mindless,

merciless, miscellany ?

~

First we hire Trump,

a specialist in mindless,

merciless, miscellany.

Don’t you think by now

brown cow would have learned how or

at least asked for help?

~

She’s been longing to,

but her tongue’s been tied with grass.

So, her wish goes unheeded.

Might this election,

someday, be chronicled as

our nation’s bildungsroman?

~

If votes are cast from

love, not fear, this could well be

a coming of age story.