My heart needs to heal, I choose not to feel, My mind is set to reel, I need only to get through This horrific ordeal.

At our lowest point Of turmoil & despair We reach for Heaven When we dare To let go...

Am I a Girl or a guy? I ask myself this question All the time, So If you ask why I will not be offended,

God is perfect Religions are not, Humanities effort To reach heaven Is frought with imperfections,

Every friend or relative I knew Who passed on before me, I keep close in my heart, They live on in memories, Of good times starts

The man said “please” The woman heard bees, And cringed under her bonnet Saw it is as a misunderstanding... After all—bees are harmless,

Seek God the Lord Not from without But from within, The Temple Holy of Holies Resides in you,

The years pass him bye Like the warinessof Father’s All-seeing eye, Like logs so tacitly tossed into t… Chronus is keeping track we aspire…

Hopeless? Ship wreck? Destitute? Mutiny Or land in sight? I must assault the senses I will…

Call me nothing, Call me up again, Just call me “Stormy Dan” I run from you, You chase me down again,

My imagination is the canvass, The world-my paints, Language-my brush, Words & ideas-the strokes.

Each day is unique, A path of the Earth, That is never to be repeated, From our birth, Each day has its own blend

Where is the happiness, I was promised? Where is the mirth & joy, The contentment Is it a ploy?

The personals we turn to, In times of loneliness & despair, When times are tough When we are full of cares. In the personals we look

New poets struggle with the weight Of the world, New poets feel invisable, They curl up in a ball & feel like giving up all;