Poetry

Beach Beauty

Crashing waves bringing in squeals of delight.

Fire in the sky.

The bright blue calm of twilight.

Moonlight reflected on the water.

Contrast of white sand and blue sky.

Beach beauty has nothing to compare.

Though mountains are pretty in their own right,

the sandy hills of oat-covered dunes

with rabbits scurrying through and wind brushing the grass

is unique to the wild consistency of the beach.

The wind never stops here, the waves always crash.

Storms roll in and out keeping everything cool and hydrated.

Sand as white as snow, but hot enough to burn.

It never leaves your feet.

Pink skin and happy faces – peace can be found here.

Peace in the crashing waves.

Peace in the constant breeze.

Peace in accepting sand will forever be on the floor and furniture.

Peace in being.

Peace

in Beach Beauty.   

Poetry

What is Engineering?

Engineering is the application
of science and mathematics.
It’s the medicine you injest
to fight off a cold.
It’s the chemicals you spray
to kill off the mold.
It’s the engine that runs in your car
and the plane that flies you so far.
Engineering is all around,
in your life and forever bound
to you.
It’s the sidewalk on which you jog,
the boat on which you sail,
the room where you rest and slumber,
and the computer where you read your mail.
Engineering is where art and practicality collide.
It’s the stain-glass window you see in a church
that casts multicolored sun rays across the pews.
It’s the colored concrete that looks like red brick
that you walk on as you cross the street.
It’s the school cafeteria
designed to look like a chapel.
It’s the large swimming pool
that looks like Mickey Mouse
and includes two slides and fountain.
Engineering is the creative solution to life’s little problems.
It’s the volume button on the steering wheel
and the microwave that cooks your frozen meal.
It’s the e-reader that saves you space
and the map app that takes you any place.
Engineering is all around,
in your life and forever bound
to you and me and all across society.

Poetry, Relationships

The Change

What I wouldn’t give to be with you before
you changed. To enjoy the holidays together before
you changed. To make love with the passion we had before
you changed. To go outside and play like before
you changed. To sit at a bar and read together like before
you changed. Oh the love I felt for you before
you changed. So much so I couldn’t contain it all before
you changed. How was the sun so warm and the colors so bright before
you changed? How now the clouds are darker unlike before
you changed? The holidays are cold and lonely unlike before
you changed. Doubt and darkness has replaced the love that existed before
you changed. And though we hate it, we go our separate ways because, after all,
I’ve changed.

Uncategorized

Abridged by the Writer’s Hand,

the parchment becomes enhanced
with a series of marked-up script.
Once re-written, the words are now
fewer than the original. Adding cursive
words, little secrets form across
the papyrus. King Author himself couldn’t
write this well
on his royal parchment.
Words are replaced
with words – royalty
with novelty, numerous descriptions
with three details – groundwork
of the soul.

Enough
of the mark-ups,
the replacements,
the new literature. It’s too much.
Its original meaning is all
but lost – a new idea
has been introduced – innocent
in its being.