Author Archive

Missing You

Posted: November 27, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry

Missing you,
In body but not in spirit,
Shows me what I miss
About those happy times,
When we were together.
Thinking back
Over the years,
There were many good times,
Which made us closer,
As well as difficult ones,
Which made us stronger.
I value all the experiences
That we had together,
Because you are
Important to me.
You can never
Get all the years back,
All the time and distance
That lies between us.
But I know,
That whenever we
Are together again,
We will cherish that time,
And not take it for granted.
It’s so easy to get lost
In the business of life,
All the many distractions.
But please never forget
That I love you.

Away, But There

Posted: November 26, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry


Far, far away,
Thinking of you.
Close in heart and mind,
Remembering times past.
Today I heard
What you were up to,
On this holiday.
I wished you well,
Full of hope,
But sad to be so distant.
I still hope, one day,
We can be together again,
Like so many others.
So, now, I make
A toast to your health,
And peace for your soul,
Until I see you again.

Too Carried Away

Posted: November 23, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry


It’s funny, how,
We worry and worry
About something,
And then,
When something
Finally happens,
It turns out to be
What a strange mind I have.
Is this normal?
Not that I ever
Thought I was.
But isn’t it crazy
How something seems
Like this gargantuan monster
In our imagination,
Then it turns out
To be a little,
Mewing kitten?
Thank goodness,
For small miracles!

Taking Advice

Posted: November 23, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry


I have never been good
At taking advice.
I over-analyze, and
My skeptical instinct
Wants to know,
What is the hidden agenda,
If there is one?
Why does this person
Want me to do this?
Is this wisdom,
Passed on in love?
Of course,
It depends who it is,
What I already know
About this person,
Whether they tend to be
Selfish, self-centered,
Or self-serving.
It depends if I detect
That I am being
Due to someone’s hang ups,
Confusion, prejudices,
Stereotypes, obsessions,
Fears, and such.
It is more difficult,
When some of these
Is common, in dealing
With this person,
But I truly believe
They are making
An attempt to help me.
Maybe they think
They are helping me,
But I just don’t agree.
And, if I disagree,
Then what?
I don’t like offending
Other people,
Especially loved ones,
Who also tend to be
The ones that offer
Advice the most.
What a quandary!
You would think,
Now that I am
Past forty, I would
Have all this figured out.

Doing My Part

Posted: November 22, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry


Saturday, circles;
Bowing to the king.
My wallet appreciates, but
My heart suffers; or does it?
I struggle with whether
To do, or not to do.
They struggle; or do they?
Mixed messages, good and bad.
Where is my direction?
A mist rises, blocking sight.
I cannot tell which way to go.
Responsibility pulls me,
And I know that feeling.
I have been there before.
I was raised with a tuning fork
That keeps me in that key.
But where do the boundaries lie?
When do I say no?
Perhaps, never?
Maybe, to do what I’m told
Is my destiny. I am good at that.
But when does servanthood
Become servitude?


Posted: November 20, 2014 by gsb3 in "Unpoetry"

Lenient loudly leaping lovely
Real taffy tipping teepee top
Crackle keeping kept kick
Creatures wiped warped wacko
Leafing marks meekly wading
Red lit orb tap creep sift sort
Ripe round raucous kindred

Between It

Posted: November 14, 2014 by gsb3 in "Unpoetry"


Simple sorrys bring back memories.
Sticks and things hover merrily.
Lewd tarantulas circumnavigate
Around seven long bottoms.

How danger came to high hill callers
Is a mystery to all the fathers.
Rings and strings attached at the belt rings.
Heaven happy tantalizing creatures

Crawl upward to the strange roofs.
Loud cooks cover capstones
On top of killjoy seekers.
Guessing only makes it sweeter.

Pillow hankies quiet down cannot dives,
But noose nappers clean apple boobs.
Sinking salmon cloud kick start Angels,
During duck queens ordered to run.

Whacking wolves wear underoos lots,
Then teepee larges leak lame diagonals.
Reading aloud to buried surgeries
Quite due for tricks beneath hell holes.

Long dainty mellow bunks prove all in.
Bellows squeeze quarter rains around
Willows wiping weed walkers waving.
Weaving wheel medium mouse quacks.

Quiver lame rudder clicks brokering
Bitter bickering brought belly mutts.
Mouths maybe much quills liking.
Lint orbs making marks between it.


Posted: November 13, 2014 by gsb3 in "Unpoetry"


Ball sort port sport
Free send spend friend
Groove smooth screw
Mood huge touch much
Such silly things spring
Lovingly from happy
Hands man you can come
Some day something
Tingles it mingles sane
Mane lain slain main
Stain angry mounds of
Tangled lemon juice a
Little paprika thrown
In for flavor made toward
Loud stools mules stubborn
Stings sweet meat treat
Feet light fight fright
Tight might quite right
Height strike mike trike
Apple tart heart start
Cart stark stork fork
Pork mouth south
Look mood rude true
Spoonful true pee yew
Screw few tables sink
Mink ladles ladies tri-
Angles leaning trying
Cables mean still meander
Labels still rearranging
Conquest stupid tooth
Mood cooper lid stork
Rankle teething silk
Stinking roller rinks
Marking wrinkle tide
Wide open wide like
Thomas Jefferson
Smoking weed he did
You know his type even
Smoothly singing tunes
To tasty music mouths
Loud rousing tousled
String beans can you
Count can I lets go
Let’s do our thing lets
Leave it now on the
Counter country kick
Stick Mickey muck
Brick lick ticking time
Slime ring finger found
Round type town train
Male mail malleable
Mantra mouse luck
Huckle Finn freak tout
Teak leak meek read
Route mute poop toot
Clue move loot cute
Root moot sloop slop
Pop prop fruit soot
Mars plop plod squad
Dod mod pod wad real
Meal smell steel squeal

A Recipe for Life

Posted: November 3, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry


Harness happiness in a temple.
Promote goodness in an open hand.
Sweep up forgiveness, and spread it around.
Question stubbornness with optimism.

Pour in gentleness, stir it smoothly.
Laugh in good measure.
Sprinkle a little whisper,
Then rub a few cramped necks.

Ask a childish question.
Touch a heart, with a contagious spirit.
Climb to the peak of imagination.
Dream. Just dream.

Was It Worth It?

Posted: October 31, 2014 by gsb3 in Poetry


Creativity takes various forms.
Sometimes, it is just shedding a tear.
Sometimes, it is letting someone go.
Sometimes, it is speaking your mind.

But all these things have potential pitfalls.
We can go too far, too fast.
We can get reckless.
We can want to do more than we can handle.

So, what to do?

Do we tone it down a little,
So we fit in people’s little boxes?
Do we stop being creative?
Do we only seek to be constructive,

Because, as everyone knows,
You can point to a result,
And say, That’s what I did today!
What did you do?

I cried. I spoke up.
I shared my heart with someone.
I left. I came back.
I battled my feelings. I gave up.

What does it all mean?

Does there have to be a concrete result,
A number, a price, a measurable gain?
What if the result only matters to you?
Or, what if only you can see it?

Was it still worth doing?

Sometimes, I wonder,
Was it all worth it?
Was shedding my blood,
Sacrificing myself, worth it?