Restless Peace

At restless peace I am

with the wind and sidewalk rustlings.

I hear no evil

but listen, careful

to the teacher in my head—

Ahem, it says, you see my boy

with an air of confidence,

before the mind had time to grow

to stretch it’s arms and wiggle toes

from abc’s to no means no

it was already in survival mode.

So from that time it tried to be

chameleon, I mean everything

to everyone without a doubt

as quiet as a field mouse,

the pressure grew and grew.

So that it’s not a man I see

or reckless boy in front of me

it’s simple with perspective, he’s

finally catching on.

What’s done is done is done.

The rhyme is just for fun.

If you can’t learn the lesson now,

there’s one last question that I’ll ask—

At restless peace, I listen

then watch the flowers grow,

focus on the question

and answer best I can.

Aprils Fool

I wish I could have been

The air of reason

Forever calm

Before the storm

Instead of becoming

Those howling winds

Those howling winds

You knew before

But having been

Picked over plenty

Like a jukebox full

Of another’s score

And though I never

Sought to reign

Like Aprils Fool

I seem to pour

A needle in hay

How can a man

give so much of himself

to the past, and so little

to his future?

The answer

can be found as quickly

as a needle in hay.

It’s a needle

that always draws a little blood.

2011 Wearing glasses? In a diner, probably.

Transformation

Any attempt to change who you are

for the benefit of another person

may, for a short while

make that other person happy,

though, with the proper time

and effort to change who you are

to benefit your own becoming

can and certainly will last a lifetime.

And when you allow this transformation

there’s an opportunity for progression,

making obstacles easier to handle,

freedom easier to give,

and makes love easier to receive.

Home in Long Island, 2012

An open question for the one’s still reading.

What is it that makes you Tik? And I’ll tell you what makes me Tok.

(But for real! What makes you get up in the morning, drives you through the day, and helps guide you to sleep?)

I’m curious to know more about you.

I’m all ears…

How do I write a good book?

“How do I write a good book?” He asks.

“Read a lot of books.” I tell him. “And…

“And what?” He presses.

“Remove the word good from your vocabulary.”

Shrugging, he digs, “and replace it with what?”

“Whatever’s wrong with the world, my friend.”

“I’m listening…”

And upon waving him farewell.

“A book worth reading isn’t always easy

but it’s worth the effort.”

Blossom From Within

No one holds the answer

For the answer’s in the past

And the present’s always fleeting

Seems like nothing ever lasts

So hold strong for the future

The answer will unfold

Like mud beneath the lotus

Blossom and you’ll know