Mr. Tomato, my daughter calls you.
Cute as can be, I laugh it off.
But after giving it further thought
she has an idea that might be true:
when squeezed too tightly
your insides start to fall apart.
But I’ll take it,
maybe even with a slice of toast.
Licking my fingertips,
I want to savor every last drop.
Looking up at the clouds so high
Watching colors stretch across the sky
As they combine and spread apart gracefully
An ever-changing work of art slowly slips by
As the sun first wakes
Golden hues are painted on the tips
I’m struck by the beauty
How lucky am I to be a witness
As the sun slowly dances across the sky
The image changes as clouds come and go
Feathery wisps of cotton stretch out
While others appear as the atomic bomb exploded
As the sun reaches the western horizon
The colors of the rainbow come back for a second act
Purple, pink, red, and orange are coated in layers
Until the colors slowly fade to black
This poem, along with others, can be found in my book Coffee Shop Sessions II: Moving Mountains One by One
Two lone souls
thinking they stand out in the crowd
do they really
or are they the same as everyone
They feel special, profound
as no one must feel the same
but they do,
they all want to be loved
they all are searching for the one
Yet there isn’t one
there are quite a few
as they slowly come in and out of view
this one knows how to paint
and captures you from the start
and this one knows how to play guitar
straight from the heart
and this one plays piano from the soul
and this one writes poems,
his words have been your ultimate goal
But this one standing beside you all these years
Is he special, unique, profound
Well, he’s still around
And that’s something…
All the words to say
The sad ones
The lonely ones
The grateful ones
The mad ones
They circulate through you
But never leave your lips
Raging out onto paper
For all to read
But the ones closest to you
Will never see
Those words escape effortlessly
Words poured out late at night
And splayed across the light of day
Words that others will relate
And make others feel safe
That they too feel the same way
Words that will make you give ‘Thanks,
Thanks for today’
So use your words
Use them wisely
Share them with those you love
Share them with your friends and family
Share them with the world
Let them see
Just what you feel
Spark them with your electricity
The phone booth crashes into my yard
I’ve seen this play out before
stepping inside, I reach for the receiver
and browse the years to rediscover
Should I dial that year
when I had my first kiss
Should I dial that year
when he made me felt squeamish
Should I dial that year
when I thought I found love
Should I dial that year
when his body fit like a glove
Should I turn back
when things didn’t quite feel right
Should I turn back
when I should have put up a fight
If my destination was yesterday,
which yesterday would it be
or would I stand exactly
where life presents me
