the hell we make for

ourselves and others

devils aspiring to be angels

or cynics believing no god bothers




two causes

we fall short of expectations

lack of knowhow

and right mix of motivations




some people some animals

won’t respond accordingly

they’re on another frequency

or may be wired differently




tell them our prayers

their misery will end

all that we look for

is absolution




ignorant pride

of a made-up woman

her cats will charm her

when everything fails




you make assumptions

i do not meet

i am messy

and you want neat




you are icing on my cookie

but your sweetness makes me puky




a world that is heavily sedated

when it should have been at peace




collapsing tents

with sad clowns




times you can’t help think

what would have happened

are my consolations of pain




a flower unseen

a woman unloved

a shoe unscuffed

a jewel unbuffed

a life unbeen




beautiful dreams

and pretty flowers

left at your door

that remains unopened




his life seemed like

a basket filled

with crumpled discarded ideas




she’s nastiest

to the ones who love her

knowing she’s safe with them

in her abuse




with her he could not

hear himself think

no use she had

his life figured out




we and other sinister powers

point us toward windows

against which we fly

until we drop and die




look baby

he’s an options trader

and you are asking

for life long commitment




her resentment

of being ignored

makes them abstain

for unjust reason




love’s tragedy

is the rift between

promise of intention

and reality




what would it take

he keeps guessing

nothing he has

most distressing




she longed for him

to undress her heart

he only thought of clothes falling




arrested in caskets

of boards hinting safety

life’s pleasures are dying to resurrect

still mostly we’re worried

’bout acting correct




many of us have lived their extent

and it’s just now a matter of time




she drew on him

to give her love

not realizing

he needed it too




she broke his stride

complained he can’t dance

throttled his throat

denounced he won’t sing

ripped out his heart

and claimed he can’t love




words he wanted

were missing

and she would not help

to find them




you can paint

say sing scream all you want

the world’s moved on

to prepackaged confections




like thin piano wire

grating through my soul

its parts together

still lethally severed




conditioned to care

to be better than others

instead of being

more helpful to them




romantic love

makes regret

the enemy




life’s question marks

we don’t correctly answer

turn into hooks

suspending our progress

or tearing us down




meeting requirements

instead of people




he thought she was takeout dinner

abiding by ritualistic debt




making lovers stay

there is no such thing

but one can make them go away




she got cold feet

but allowed him to warm them




defining saints

as kind even-minded

we give ourselves

easy passes to fail




when we crave nights or days

to save us from the other

our balance is asunder

and we try not to crash




too much of her

has already left

to make him believe

she’s still with him




a gentleman

a modern knight

strong honorable gracious

she seeks among losers

crawling the night




my angel has flown

i grasp at feathers

sinking in the still




with high expectations

to be struck by lightning

she would not give

gentle love a chance




she’s thirsty for him

grown up to be ice

he cannot be like water




right she agreed

when he told her

he loved her




poetries stark

like broken trees

twisted by gales for nothing

sentiments dark

recited with glee

that others share our suffering




most people refuse

to really live

until it is time to die




feeling both guilty and debt to him

by association with his transgressions

she makes an arrangement with sin




though she only whined

he had no compunctions

agreeing with whatever she said

she had a listener

and he was unctuous

single minded to get her to bed




staying where love dwells not enough

generates most of our pain

trying to force it by battling the rough

makes us be vain in vain




earth’s drag of sadness

continues its slowdown

not enough love left

to go around




locked in a self-admiring trance

of being published and academic

the poet decided to forgo the chance

of realizing his work was anemic




eager poet deemed his life’s duty

casting in words

the essence of beauty

he tried to describe her

but soon could see

it would end in utter catastrophe




some people’s kindness

should come with notice

that it is not a sample




humankind’s on

the back of its heels

still we go faster to nowhere




good he said

now she was leaving

luck would have soon run out anyway




not since he had gained

emotional recall

was need

for emptiness

raging more




mountains of words exchanged

upheavals insults and dramatics

all this commotion yields

silent lone bitter fanatics



Drawing in black ink of an open daisy flower facing the viewer. The daisy is the symbol of the Philosophy of Happiness book.



Blue and black title plus stylized, 8-pronged white star with a blue rhombus in each tip and separate rhombi on grey background.