Poem Number 112 - Painless Virtues - 12/6/1986

There is no excuse for us to live happy,

There is no excuse for us to die and go to heaven,

It’s just so true,

And that is what we all go through.

You can’t have a beginning without the end,

You can’t have an end without a beginning.

The only thing you can have with sacrificing,

Is the middle: which represents your life.

There is no guess to what your life leads,

And there is no limit to what you can plead.

Relax and think of what, of whom, you’d like to be,

So that the way and direction, is in front of you.

Don’t get stale, by setting yourself for jail,

For you will be through tremendous amounts of hail.

Be extremely popular within yourself,

For the endless results will bring fortunes in your way.

Unresisting your brain from painless virtues,

Will rainbow a colorful pattern of you,

So that peace of mind endures,

And you can walk yourself, to Mother Nature’s pastures.

Be vigorous with enemies of one’s past,

And you’ll realize that life doesn’t go that fast.

For you will retort, for the kindness of your real friends,

Of who will never send you, going round the bend.

Poem Number 111 - A Phone Call Away - 11/6/1986

How close does she feel from me?

Is an answer I quite know well?

Feeling the touch of her exterior body,

Rubbing against mine: to fulfill one’s wishes.

The atmosphere is different,

We both don’t feel like solid cement.

There’s one thing we love to do,

And that is using all means of communicating.

Her cheeks feel warm and round,

Her happiness, one that is joyfully shown all around.

Her clothes, loosely being walked from place to place,

Her mannerisms are all in, only thoughtful grace.

Dictating expressions of daily on comings,

The small bird that is still humming,

The innocence of life’s expectancy,

Crowding and drowning me with such beaut thoughts.

Imagining her physique and figure,

Touching, just touching myself at rest.

There’s no solution to depart these wonderful emotions,

As we in company, share each other’s search.

During these ongoing composition of thoughts,

I awake from a self-hypnotic dream,

And listening to that feminine voice,

Asking me for an answer to a question.

Stunned, that had drifted away in dream,

I replied to her so that she could understand.

Slamming the telephone, annoyed with myself,

I realized that I am thankful that Carla is a phone call away.

Poem Number 110 - Red Carpet - 10/6/1986

There are so many items on my list of buying,

From clothes, to a motor vehicle to an apartment.

But the one thing that I don’t want to buy or sell,

Is the greatness of love with Carla.

I have never felt the same as before,

Only once was I involved with a whore,

This time, I know this is the right person,

To be in love with me, such a sweet woman.

If only, I had a car to drive us out,

If only, I had the choice of clothes for night,

If only, I had enough money saved,

They are the 'If’s', that I don’t like.

For Carla, deserves more than the red carpet,

She deserves mature tender loving care,

Not to be used by any man at all,

So she can stand up, on her feet so tall.

Poem Number 109 - Poets And Poems - 7/6/1986

I am asked about when I write poetry:

I respond not despondently but with honesty,

“That riding to and from work, on trains and buses,

And when I think it is a good moment, to do so.”

One thing I realized, is that all the poems,

Are written outside the home environment.

Most poems are extremely personal, of self-life,

And at that time expressed, how I feel is recorded.

There is the expression,” There is a method in your madness”,

Well, there’s the mechanics of written words,

Description of expressions and feelings,

Just meaningful and easeful words of positive thinking.

Most poets when writing their own styles of poems,

Reflect either on one or two messages: in-between the lines,

In my own case, not all the poems rhyme,

But they are split up into thoughts of lines.

The “Icing on the cake”, isn’t necessarily the end,

It could be a whole phrase or paragraph,

That attracts all reader’s minds,

To infiltrate one’s mind, with one’s creation.

Every single one of us can easily write a few words,

And perform a work of art, by painting your thoughts.

Like a fast running streaming water spring,

Running to the shores of no end.

Poem Number 108 - Financial Computered Financial Institutions - 7/6/1986

Just isn’t my day, with telli-card machines,

For three days now, from machine to machine,

The Credit Union has reached its daily limit,

And makes me chuck a fit!

How good banks and building societies are,

As I rely on these machines to be paid.

Frustration occurs when I have little in my pocket,

As I feel like kicking a bucket or two!

Queuing up, waiting sometimes: five to thirty minutes,

To find out what you didn’t want to find out.

Oh, how I would like to abuse them,

For they are inevitable, that it bother’s me.

Inconvenience of computerized machines,

Is not the same as an incompetent bank staff.

In most cases, the bank staff I would prefer,

To these broken down computer, so called “Financial Institutions”!

Poem Number 107 - She Did Not Seem A Happy Woman -6/6/1986

Here I was sober as a man should be,

Merrily walking home, through the arcade,

Asking a womanly cleaner, stopping her for just a moment,

“Where is the nearest bank machine, for me to withdraw some cash?”

She did not seem a happy woman,

Yet, she admitted she was foreign,

And not one ounce of good talk,

Could I get out of her.

So meanfully rude she responded,

With no passionate prude.

That she wanted me out,

So she called for others, in a shout.

How can anyone expect some, they didn’t know,

To be friendly, in a good mood and pleasant,

It just doesn’t seem, to me to be fair,

That you should stretch your pleasantness so far,

And you are thrown aside and threatened.

I hope this unknown woman of our world,

Is not like this to anyone else.

So that she lives in cheerfulness,

And doesn’t perform the same, like towards me she did.

Poem Number 106 - Hold Her, So Tightly - 6/6/1986

I am a man that loves to make love,

While asleep, in the middle of the night,

If a beautiful woman lies beside,

I would hold her, so tightly.

It’s not awkward, as it is mutual response,

And it creates sweet pleasant dreams,

Until the sunrise in the early dawn,

And both of our lips meet and are together drawn.

Most sexual relationships of partners,

Would not even think of this kind of making love.

They would do it first thing, at night,

And fight first thing in the morn.

There has to be a deep understanding,

A signal from both to know each other’s steps:

With the man acting like a silver-dressed knight,

And the woman with the laced golden brown clothes.

To enlighten the darkness of any night,

That encourages a strong and friendly relationship.

If the time is not right,

If the atmosphere and hours does not feel right,

If one of them don’t want to love, at that time,

Then just respond by not being rude, and accept it!

There will always be a better time,

There will always be better moods,

There will always be a better chance,

As there should be no feeling of guilt.