Anything I Wouldn't Do

I advise “don't do anything I wouldn't do,”

But does that rule out anything? I think one or two –

I don't date my students.

I don't hate my students.

I don't chase anything but inspiration.

If those are standards, then I have them.

If not, I guess I'm an unsafe sort of person.

Unstable Psyche. Handle With Care.

It's just for me they care,

They say–in fact, believe.

But when friends visit, and I'm there,

I see that they're ashamed of me.

My way of seeing isn't shared.

It's insight–and insanity,

Inspiration extraordinaire;

Authorities want ordinary.

To be normal, average, fair?

For that they say I ought to dream.

They don't even have to cut your hair

To perform lobotomies.

Of what you're wishing, best beware.

In this ironic world, it seems

That the very stuff of nightmares

Is oft the rotten fruit of dreams.

Turn It Off, I Can't Stop Listening

The song invites inspiration and half-lost memory

Into a gray and dreary-lightless no-person's territory.

The memory, the music and the inspiration

Tease me–I hear and feel, but can't quite see them.

If they were any closer, I'd say so close I can taste,

But I'm only playing music, not horseshoes or hand-grenades.

Steamed or Simmering?

The beach has never been something I crave,

and only sometimes a thing that I tolerate.

I guess it's from having five too many days

In some weeks, where my thoughts just boil away.

I'm a computer made out of water.

I'm attached to a machine made out of water.

I'm shocked anyone wants to go someplace that's hotter.

The Beauty of Gray

To expect's a human habit, which we're stuck with, bad or good,

But when expectations turn to stone, stop being “could” and turn to “should,”

They're not the only things that harden. So do our hearts and arteries.

Raised certainty raises blood pressure. Expectation's a disease.

Expecting too much turns the light out on what we've really got.

A pessimist sees could-be and then better-than-I-thought.

Tie Our Stars Together (a Poem-in-Monologue)

“I'm not committed to tradition, and I believe there's no 'forever,'

But I see appeal in closeness that could tie our stars together.

Still, what we our is just our pasts. Our potential lies in dreams.

Your dreams aren't mine, and I can't bear to see them sacrificed for me.”

At least, that's what I say. The truth is that I'm alone

Because I could not bear to see me sacrifice my own.

Failure to Communicate in the Art of Saying "No"

It's been said late to bed and early to rise
Is how the strong make the most of their lives.
I hold to that course, for the sake of the time,
Though I suspect work is the point of such rhymes.
How does that make life better?  You say the only way how
Is to be dissatisfied with my ample life now.
That doesn't make sense.  Life is good satisfied.
If I don't care for things, why fuss over their size?
Laws declare we're free to forge forward, enterprise.
I declare myself free to settle down, stand aside.