We all make poor life choices. Mine just happens to be pizza. You’d think working at the nostalgia-laden Wally World would be a dream come true. Maybe for kid me, with all the arcade games that spat out tickets like confetti, ball pits, and colorful characters straight from a children’s book, it was. I used to wrap myself up in tickets like a mummy when I won big, then walk proudly down the soda-stained carpet like royalt...

Forty-six years ago, Bobby opened the doors and let us in. Battered and peeling even then, it was our sanctuary of truth. We learned fast to come and go in groups on its sketchy street and did we ever. The music was loud, the drinks cheap, and the light low enough to mantle the next morning's regret. Going to the ladies was a euphemism you learned quickly and wasn't for the faint-hearted. Then the world decided yes, you'r...

Whipped dreams and sweet things,  What the way I look at you implies. Envision me; a fantasy  In this moment...There are no goodbyes. So meet me in my dreams,If that’s the only way.And I will give you the best of me,I swear it. Meet me under the sky,Behind my eyes.Where it is dark and quiet,But alive... With the perfect emotion,  And utter devotion,I will take you all the way. In my embrace,Let me replace,The longing,That...

To whom I call my dearest,  Beloved bel esprit.  So full of love and hope.  And the hope for love.    Love,   I am truly enamored.  For even the passing thought,  Of your sweet kisses,  Puts me at peace.      Peaceful,     Even as I yearn for you.  My heart, my spirit, my mind and body.  My very essence is electrified by. Thoughts of us.   Us,     We--fierce and beautiful.  Tragic yet hopeful.  Two as one.  Made to love,...

Nostalgia yearns for places never found,We search in hope, with joy, and trusting sighs;Hiraeth is ours, both souls are homeward bound. The hollow echoes with a birdlike sound, A song is heard, it crests and gently dies; Nostalgia yearns for places never found. We found a love that shared a common ground Where both of us had suffered burns from lies; Hiraeth is ours, both souls are homeward bound.A gentle touch said all m...

That sanctuary is still there.In the valley where the live oaks growScattered across the landscape of hope.Turn down the lane to where the wonderful one is waving,Beckoning as you come down the hill.Down the hill to your singular home once more.You've been here before.Been here and welcomed,Always welcome.Embraced in the open arms of acceptance,And never any regrets.Only the landscape of hope.Always the honor of being lov...

Was it important to be the master. To be in control. Was that important. Looking out across the vista of the valley do you really care anymore. Do you care that you can't be the master. The one in charge. Does it matter. As long as you receive the benefits. The view is yours to see. You can use it for your purposes without being the master of all you survey. You still own it in your heart and mind. You own what you see. N...

“Who is that?” “That’s not the girl…” “What happened to the girl?”“How long has it been?”The man and woman stood in the doorway of the second bedroom. Its bare white walls and softly carpeted floor held so much promise. “This will be his room,” the soon-to-be-Mother told her husband, her hand lightly touching the roundness of her belly. “We’ll put the crib in the corner there. The changing table can go there …” and in her...

SoftDesertSands shiftingAs the wind blowsThe grains into dunesDrifting across the land. Sighing xerophytic dreamsCreating quartzite pyramidsAnd robust succulent greenery Singing adagios as chaste yuccas.Faint visions of fading vistas renewAncient empathies one final time Seeking to eclipse the aching,The feeling that remembersThe loss of joyous faithEngendered in youthBut still endowedBy ones trustTo loveNow.TruthLives he...

What is Winter But a season of nostalgia Don't know what brings back more The coldness Or the coziness Fog of forgotten  rain of rememberence mist of memories: some beautiful some bad Some sweet some sad But all with a touch of unfathomed melancholy Like no one is listening and never will Like time has stopped,clocks still The moment will never pass Chained in echoes of past Solitude of souls Filling the vacant holes In t...

Laying on my back, soft breathy girl's cries fading into the silence that had screamed your name earlier. The branches blown against the window,beat as my heart slows its rapid cadence. My fingers still fragrant from touching;while you rode the reverberance through the hallows of my mind. Quivering muscles juxtapose the calm in my mind. The darkness soothes my purposeful blindness. Where you lay in my mind is naught but s...

It’s all so temporary. As days disappear on silent wings The patterns of cause and effect are rarely seen during the cyclical phases of life. Leaves fall and are swept away. The wind howls loudly on dusky days. And when the sun shines again -- as it did when we met -- you’ll no longer be here. Each second flutters aimlessly. But too quickly to catch. (I’d hold your hand if it would make a difference.) But time cannot be f...

Her life of comfort seemed fair exchange  For penance served in a far off land Neither heat nor hunger could beat her down Spirit growing with every challenge met.  The years gone by more cruel than kind  Scars in her heart map each moment of discord The one true future she now beholds Tainted with the tears of her own bitter despair. ***** The sound of approaching sirens pierced the silence of the quiescent suburb. With...

My Old BootsMy 'monkey boots' when I was growing upwere like two of my own best friends. Hardly a day did we spend apart,wherever we'd walk or wend.Two rugged bits of cobbled leatherwith scuffed up toes and laces,with cardboard insidefrom the wear of the slide,on the ice or the gravelly tracesIt's with a sad heartwhen dad gave a startas he saw the state of my boots.He packed me off to townwith two worn half-crownsto buy n...

The Coal Wagons The coal trains ran behind our houses from morning to night, twenty four seven, thundering down from the pit to the staithes at the river, where the coal was transferred from the wagons to the ships.  Miles of seemingly endless coal wagons were pulled by a huge, blackly-chuffing locomotive. Our moms, on hearing the trains whistle, dashed to get their washing in before the ash and soot stained them. It felt...