My dream of a cabin, pond and canoe never came true but is it too late now? Is it too late to sing love songs under a full moon?

18 Nov

It was fun back then thinking someday I would become a poet living from my poems. I dreamed of living on a few acres of land with a pond, canoe and a sweet wife. Has anyone reading this had these kind of thoughts? I had no idea of what poetry was other than it was short enough for me to learn to write. I went to the Louisville Public Library and spent days reading all the poetry books I could relate to. I checked out a dozen books to take home each week. I saturated myself with how these poets I admired wrote. This is how I learned to write. I sent poems to magazines. Most poems were not accepted but I began getting payments for poems after awhile mostly from religious magazines that liked my writing about love and relationships. I visited Nashville and met editors of the magazines buying my poetry. It was fun and exciting in those days. Somewhere along the way after publishing several poetry books things went downward. I lost interest but not sure why.

I never bought the land with a pond and never built a cabin. I’ve recently started writing poetry books again.

I wonder if it’s to late to revisit that dream I had when I was a teenager of sitting in a canoe and playing a guitar and singing songs of love under the moon?

Tonight, I speak of finding love when you are lonely

18 Nov

I want to share a little wisdom that I’ve learned over the years. I want to encourage you.

Don’t give up on meeting people. Especially don’t give up on finding love. You will find someone you can enjoy and love.

Leave your safe place and circulate and talk with everyone you feel led to. They want a friend as much as you do. And if you’re lucky, and the chemistry is right, your world may be turned upside down, and your happiness and their happiness will become blissful.

I remember when I was shy when I forced myself to sit down where a lovely lady sat. I asked if I might join her….and if she could use a little company? Each time I was invited to enjoy a deep conversation and often we walked to a local coffee shop hand-in-hand and talked until midnight. That began the seeds of a loving relationship.

Over time I overcame shyness. I’m older now and I’m not so self-conscious. Even now I’ve never been turned away when I ask a lovely lady “Can I join you and can you use some company tonight?”

waiting for love that never comes

3 Nov

She sits on the beach

at twilight

waiting for

someone

anyone

with a friendly smile

and warm words

No one stops

She appears homeless

She made her home

the beach and

a nearby park where

she sleeps on sand

or a bench in the park

with newspapers

over her to stay warm

She works all day

at a sports bar

serving coffee

hamburgers

sea food

She listens to others

works gracefully

showing kindness

and offering encouragement

Her customers ask for her

and laugh with her

and joke with her

She is lovely

so lovely

No one invites her out

They think she must

have a partner

Guys think

she’ll turn them down

Some customers

call her their psychologist

since she listens intently

and offers common sense solutions

This is what

no

one

knows —

She takes food

left on plates

to eat after work

She makes leftover food

last until she works

the next day

She wears colorful clothing

from Salvation Army stores

She makes worn out clothes

look good

No

one

knows

her

night-life

You will find her

sitting on the beach

alone beginning at twilight

No one slows down to talk

She sees herself

a toss away

from three broken marriages

of abusive alcoholic spouses

She makes people laugh

and feel loved

will anyone

sit and talk with her

cry with her

and dream with her

of a new future

Once I stopped

and asked if she could

use a little company

She broke into tears

then said

no one ever offered

to sit with me

I learned her name

Connie

She is a God fearing woman

praying for others

in need

She had names on a napkin

to pray for

She never prayed for herself

Before I left

Connie asked to pray for me

taking my hand in hers

and praying a comforting prayer

As I think about her

tonight

I find myself

praying for her

remembering her holding my hand

I mentally place her hand in mine

as I pray for her

and not for

myself

Looking for love at Luguna Beach

3 Nov

She had an Angel’s smile

glancing at me several times

in a bookstore

I got all the mojo

I could and walked up

and said can I buy you a coffee

at their snack bar?

Smiling she reached

for my hand

as we walked to the bookstore’s

sit down coffee and pastry area

We talked of past hurts

and imagined outloud

things might be different

if we met again

It was to happen

the next day

on the beach

she would bring a picnic lunch

I’d bring wine and soft drinks

Diane never showed up

I walked up and down the beach

for hours

looking for her

Finally I sat down

as salted tears soaked

the sand

and waited

two more hours

just in case . . .

Before going to my hotel

I tasted my tears on the sand

for a memory

of her

to take home

My Poem Maker Kit

2 Nov

I’m at my favorite cafe

I ask Lucy for

napkins and pencil

She brings a pile of napkins

with a sharpened pencil

For a dollar cup of coffee

and free refills

my creative thoughts

pour onto napkins

spilling words

to share with

you

12 Bottles of Inspiration — The Perfect Writer’s Kit for solving Writer’s Block

1 Oct

John called it

his “writing kit”

A liquor bar on wheels

designed to roll anywhere

he wrote good poems

He claimed

he drank 10 shot glasses

of different types, flavors

and colors

to jump-start a steady stream of

poems

He starts with whiskey, vodka

wine, brandy then the liquid

inspiration flows

non-stop as he listens to

Paul Williams’s

sad love songs —

“I Won’t Last a Day Without You”

“An Old Fashioned Love Song”

“Rainy Days and Mondays”

“You & Me Against The World” —

I watch as 1, 2, 8, 10 and more

poems flow

non-stop

John, I ask him

can I talk you out of some of that

liquid inspiration

from them there colored bottles?

I’ve had a dry spell

and it will help my

writers’s block

Will you loan me

your writer’s kit

for the weekend ?

i’m returning to greenwich village to be a singer….listen for me on the radio

11 May

i wanted to be a beatnik

missed that

then thought I’d be a hippie

i flew to Greenwich Village

in New York City

with a guitar and

duffle bag filled with clothes

rented a cheap hotel room

met poets and wannabe singers

who later became household names

with books published and

record deals

 

i was too insecure

to read my poetry

or sing my songs

maybe it was never meant to be

 

here  i am

much later

driving back to Greenwich  village

i’m feeling more confident these days

it’s time i try again

this time i will take my guitar

and sing my songs

and read my poetry

i still remember how to play

the guitar chords

C, F and G7.

those chords worked for

those singers

i think they will work now

 

 

see you on

satellite radio

dealing with stress

11 May

music may help

calling a friend you enjoy

may help

 

how about watching

something on you tube

like favorite singers

 

or interviews with favorite

singers on you tube

i do that a lot

 

i hope these ideas

work

 

that’s what

i do

 

hi, i’m glad you stopped by to visit

11 May

i’m getting back to writing

i will forget writing perfect poems

instead I will write what’s on

my mind

 

this used to be called

stream of consciousness

writing

just letting the mind and words

flow and flow and flow

 

 

i’m feeling the blues

tonight

i think we all do

depending on if we are alone

and don’t have anything

or anyone to look forward to

 

 

i don’t edit

my words and poems

they are pretty raw

 

it costs money

to pay someone to edit

and i’m not there yet

 

i wish you a good day

i’ll be leaving more poems

hopefully every day

 

some days

i hope to share more of myself

and my plans for the future

and my life

 

 

poets sometimes die too soon

10 May

i am thinking of poets

i once knew

it’s sad

 

 

rod mckuen

donald hall

peter mcwilliams

and others

didn’t live forever

 

as a poet

ages

the question becomes

what’s the use

in writing  more poems

getting another book

published?

 

 

after all

no one will remember my

name after i’m gone

donald hall (poet)

mentioned that in a book

 

 

but i remember Donald

and ordered 2 poetry books tonight —

“without”

& “the painted bed”

both written about his

wife who died years ahead of him.

Don almost made it 90 years.

 

when we are young

we will never die

we all cross a line

as time passes

where we sonder

how soon we will die

and how should we spend

today and tomorrow

 

a reality check

not trying to be

crying the blues

 

 

it’s life

just life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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