Poems

I get to go to the market, I get to stay in my home

I get to have a roast beef, I even get to have none!

I get to cry wee wee wee, all the way to my home

I know what's important, and I know it's not me

see how most things of value are ultimately free

understand why reality's the choice of free wills

where love sits 'pon high, and when she 'tis still

If we're following our bliss

and learn how to be happy

all can create true poetries

gifted by human birthright

Here in pure nowness of truth

led sternly by scientific proofs

all future humanity 'pon earth

'tis multiplied at factual worth

Our evolving human crowd swayed,

listened intently to wisdom speaker

intelligently orating faiths scientific 

uniting in logical love's rational fact

Hear! Hear! To rhyme

hear, hear my friends

Happy odes we make

until our sweeter end

Joy comes harder to me

The simple bliss of living

So easy its hard

Two cats in the yard

In a houseful of gaffes

and misgiving

Joylessness comes easy

The knotty loops of gaging

Tough love on the case

in this exact place

On a streetcar of strife

and rampaging

Bliss is a gift in this life

The stilly joy of living

Charged bolts in the air

on a wing and a prayer

In a whirlwind of slings

worth forgiving

Done with the reptilian brain in me

evolving time and space did inherit

time travel's not an option we'll see

end result with humanity's demerit

Finished with hawkish mind of me

exhale finally like re-releasing dove

being humble, kind and wise at free

brings me now to feeling poem love 

Thinking to the end

Creative juices flowing

for an auteur on the mend

Drafting to the end

Poetic ideas peaking

at each cadence of the scend

Crafting to the end

Cerebral death grip grokking

for the rapture of the wend

Writing to the end

White heat hotspot pouring

out the pages to be penned

I've never really given up,

won't whilst I'm still here

came far worked too hard 

losing my shame and fear

even at my worst of times

the cup remained half full

now 'pon in a bucket days

I'm drawn by poetical pull

I'm here now if you need me

present my rhyming 'tis still,

if waiting until you want me

our chances are over the hill

This sonnetting 'tis going well

sonnets heal the depths of hell

The sonnetting 'tis going good,

we sonnetted I knew we could