Some poetry to share from the "private" collection.

Small Talk

Person 1: Well, fancy seeing you here.
Separation no longer. I couldn’t have stood it had I not seen you here.
Person 2: (laughs) Well, you know. I try to get out and be social every now and again.
How did I ever think I could see you and resist you?
Person 1: You look good.
Kiss me. Please kiss me.
Person 2: Yeah, so do you.
I want to kiss you. I want to feel your lips against mine.
Person 1: I was about to get a drink. Join me?
Please join me. Just so I can see you a minute longer.
Person 2: Sure.
I could never resist. Never.
Person 1: (with drinks, sits) Such a great opportunity-being here.
Being here close enough to touch you.
Person 2: I’m glad you were able to make it.
So I could see you. So I could touch you.
Person 1: Should be a good couple of days.
If I could only…
Person 2: Yeah, I think so.
If I could only…

A Cryptogram
A cryptogram perhaps
A coded little rhyme
A quote that I like
A way to express without expressing
Is everything too clear?
Should it be more muddled?
But then is too muddled too unclear?
How to speak without speaking
How to say what you’re thinking by only thinking
By not really saying
It can be written
But can it ever be shared?
Is it ever worth sharing?
A poem perhaps
Too bold
Perhaps too unclear
Or just clear enough
A quote that I like
A way to express without expressing

“I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking
What I’m looking at, what I see and what it means
What I want and what I fear.”
~Joan Didion

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”
~Aldous Huxley

And What is Life?
And what is life?
Is it idealism?
Is it roses and wine and love and great sex?
Is it responsibility and bills, work and conversation?
It is nothing.
It is everything.
It is hard to live.
Is it realism?
Is it the daily tasks of laundry and dishes?
Is it night moves in the dark beneath the covers?
Is it the cover of darkness beneath the night?

When I was seventeen life was rebellion.
Life was beer and sex and older men.
Life was making it through Spanish and Calculus.

When I was twenty two life was marriage.
Life was dogs and supper and television and silence.
Life was bad sex and no sex and pretty soon nothing.
Life was

When I was twenty three four life was chaos.
Life was lies and deceit and passion.
Life was men and more men and Mexico.
Life was meaningless and confused.
Life was never thinking of life.

When I was twenty seven life was living.
Life was responsibility and maturity, sex and laughter.
Life was in a different city every six months and praying
For just one more day of life.