Already I’m So Lonesome, Alone Again, Naturally: Revolutionary Blogging Whining Lament Free Verse Poem

Alone again.
Or is it alone,
still.
I know I should be independent,
and yet
I honestly
don’t want to be
totally.

We all have busy lives,
and we all need to respect
and give space
to others
we care for
and about.

Yes, and,
I guess I need
to learn how
to do that.

The reality is
I haven’t yet.
I expect those
I care about
to care about
the same things
I care about;
to be interested
in the same things
I’m interested in,
even if the timing
is not right.

I suppose
that’s selfish
of me.
I just had
different expectations.

And now I have to learn
to deal
with those dashed dreams
and expectations.

The expectations
that everything we did
or everything that one of us
wanted to do
would be
something that
we both wanted
to do.

But that’s not
the way it is.
The real bet is
that there’s just
not always the interest.

That we don’t
always want to walk
that yellow brick road
dressed like Buddy Holly.
(Oooh, oooh!)

I didn’t have time
before
to turn and
face the strange.
But now,
with these ch ch ch changes
I’m goin’ through,
even though things are
gonna get done,
even though there will always be
someone like her
even though the thrift shop trips
may be more efficient,
I don’t want
blue to be my color.

Nature, Music, Life Can Be Learned: Revolutionary Blogging Sonnet

Ten-plus deciduous,
mixed with a few evergreens:
more than a dozen
shade-givers are seen

from my back window
in the sunset’s glow.
All wrapped as she plays
improv piano.

Life’s good,
and you grow,
when nature’s understood,
and when you know.

It’s not knowledge gained by some parchmented degree.
It’s what people, plants, air, earth, water, life, daily give to me.
A few of the tree leaves in my NW Georgia backyard

Holiday Gift Giving Fails: 3 Revolutionary Blogging Haiku Laments

It might be time I/
stop guessing what gifts I should/
give. I’m not that good.
OR:
It might be time to/
stop guessing what gifts to give./
Seems I’m not that good.
=============================
When you’ve blown someone/
away with a gift, it’s hard/
to ever repeat.
==========================
Folks should know: When they’re/
not enthused getting gifts, the /
source dries up quickly.

I’d Forgotten It’s Because It’s What I’m Supposed To Do: Revolutionary Blogging Free Verse Poem

It’s been so long
since I’ve done
what I should do,
daily,
that I’ve almost forgotten
how;
I’ve almost forgotten
why;
I’ve almost forgotten
who I am.

Because I became
because I did
what I was asked.
Because I struggled
even when the words
weren’t flowing.

Because often
the mere fact of
doing the thing
that you’ve been told to do
is what you need
to discover
and maintain
who you are.

So once again I launch
back into my Obama-era goal:
Write
and blog
a poem
or prose piece
each day.

The words may not be
insightful
or deep
or moving.
Or they might be.

Most importantly,
they will be
and are
who I am
and who I will be,
so as long as I write
and post
and am,
I exist
much more deeply
than I ever did before.

Maybe that’s why I feel
as though I’ve gone
into hiding.

Look out!