to poems i run

to poems i run
the written word
that pours forth
from my heart.

those moments

those moments i have
of clarity...
sadness then laughter,
such disparity.

fore and aft

fore and aft
ship to shore
landing gear
ready...
but where
is
the
door.

ny botanical gardens

ship ahoy

ship ahoy

i pretends i a pirate
as i sails the seas,
so debonair...
i just needs a human on
my shoulder...
and i is soooooo
there.
ARGGGGGGGGGGGG 
magic mikey macnoblebird king of macaws, just beclaws

clucksquawktweet ye mateys

our very special little man

numbers on a stone

4/11/25
this is the day
that you arrived.
10/21/14
you left our world
an emptier,
sadder place.
but in our hearts
we still see
your vibrant face.
words and numbers
on a stone
are not you.
your life force so
strong.
not even death
can undo.
we are still
trying hard to
comprehend
why a life is born
and then

my beautiful mom

it has to end.
your first words
spoken,
until your last.
a life well lived
that has left earth
too fast.
who makes these rules.
why does it go this
way.
no answers to be given,
as we cry
each day.

we are never too far

we are never too

ny botanical gardens

far
from where our
dreams take us,
and our wishes
lead us.

we walk together

we saw it coming
in the distance.
but for this
one
is never
truly prepared.
and in the sorrow
we feel,
and the process
of healing.
we have each other
and that is our
way of dealing.

warren, david and maryanne in kings point park

all though you are gone

although you are gone.
we feel your light.
the strength of your
presence.
yet empty we are
without you.

kings point park

mistyfall

i dreamed sweet words
of mistyfall
muted loving wonders.
two hearts,
enthralled

kings point park

myster-eye

are we baffled by life's myster-eye
or perhaps we should just live,
and not look
too deep into that which is
not meant to be explained,
just experienced.

kings point park

i will find pretty colors

i will find pretty colors
i will hear gentle sounds.
i will walk slower and
more lightly
on the ground.
i will be humbled
by all of the
beauty i see.
i will cherish each
moment
as an
eternity.

ny botanical gardens

the humdrum

the humdrum
the daily routines.
the things that we do
are so much harder
and emptier...
without
you.

at norman j

in the haze

in the haze that sometimes
life can be.
in the maze
that serves as
reality.

ny botanical gardens

if for a brief moment

if for a brief moment,
i could hold time
in my hand.
i would caress
every

ny botanical garden

precious second,
each breath that i took
without thinking.
holding on until..
then tenderly kiss
them
farewell.

we never know

we never know
what really is,
until what it really
wasn't
takes its
place.

in june around the corner

his nights

the silence that is
his night,
broken by the
deafening absence
of her.

now one

for decades a life,
as friends, husband
and wife..
now one must go on,
without.

mist

Mist

to those once with us, who no longer remain,

we feel your loss, and it causes pain.

but we know you are in a place of peace,

with others, just like you,

whose troubles have ceased.

your tenure on earth with us never enough,

yes we go on, but at times it is rough.

Karen l Kalmenson

a

a conceit and an
insanity.
where is the
humane in
humanity.

norman j

through wisps and shadows

through wisps and shadows,
her life sinking slowly.
the fire of her spirit,
the desire of her heartbeat.
somewhere in the cavern
of pain and despair.
that young girl that
she was...
lingers in there...

beauty never is a never
was,
as it is always.

ny botanical gardens

around her, gathered

around her,
gathered
all those
who knew
her well.
the who
she really was.
past hurts
regrets
long ago scattered.
the love they shared...
was all that mattered.

ny botanical gardens

sweet autumnfall

sweet autumnfall
october scents.
the warmest of
colors,
for the coldest
of days,
ahead.

outside the building

from cornereye

from cornereye,
outside.
while walking fast.
i took this picture,
to make it last.

outside the apartment building a la cellphone

re-flection

we look once.
do we look
again.
upon reflection,
what happens
then.

ny botanical gardens

we bunch

we bunch because
we look alike,
think alike
talk alike.
but nothing
new do we learn.
our cacaphony

ny botanical gardens

of monotony.

ny botanical gardens

to float in space

to float in space
on a flower face.
with universal
sunshine,
and moonbeams
of lace.

ny botanical gardens

do you have that resting space

do you have within
a resting space.
a place to go.
that only you
know.

ny botanical gardens

she stood up

she stood up
and looked around.
at worlds of beauty,
magical sights
and sounds.

ny botanical gardens

you were our hothouse flower....for pteribird

you were our hothouse flower.
each breath we labored with
you.
so fragile your every moment.
so precious your little soul.
we miss your sweet presence,
very small yet very large.
your spirit flies in heaven.
and in our hearts still here
on earth.

pteribird's bouquet

her last moments

her last moments
though they fade
into a haze of pain
and its avoidance.
her heart, mind and
spirit recollect.
she cherishes and fears.
with courage and
daring.
we around her pray.
tears forever
brimming...
we ask why
what the purpose
Of it all is.
then we think of her.
waiting. struggling
for life's breath to
sustain her.
the answer
now
clear.

ny botanical gardens

she collected her hurts

she collected her hurts
in a little jar.
then drove away quickly
in her car.
forgetting those that
she had hurt on the way.
and so her bitterness
ruled the day.

ny botanical gardens

thoughts and bundles

feelings in bundles,
wrapped up with
thoughts.
a package to ponder.
and so overwrought.

floral park

do you follow

do you follow the path.
do you lead the way.
do you meander alone.
in a world self-designed.

floral park

little bells

little bells
sing sweetest
songs.
some too short
but never too
long.

ny botanical  gardens

she ran to rhyme

she ran to rhyme
to order the disorder.
disrupt the chaos
with the music
of words.
to make sense out
of that which
defined comprehension
a balm to a spirit,
stifled and smothered by
tensions and suspensions.
each letter she typed
every word she formed
a note in cacophonous
symphony.

ny botanical gardens

on edge of where she never knew

on edge of where she
never knew.
that precipice of terror
she barely clung to.
afraid to look down,
up to far away to see...
so she looked within
to end this misery.

ny botanical gardens

i am a parrot...in honor of pteribird and magic mikey

i am a parrot,
i cluck i squawk.
i have a will
of my own.
and i do not
always talk.
i eat like a piggy
throwing food all about
in the wild that is what
we do,
so new plants will sprout.
sometimes i am broody,
sometimes i take a nip
or two.
sometimes i want to be alone
sometimes i want to be
with you.
i need a lot of interaction
and exercise...
if left in a dark, dirty cage,
my spirit dies.
i might pluck, i might scream
what else can i do...
if being nice does not get a
reaction from you.
i belong in nature,
though my habitats
are being destroyed.
i am not a decoration
i am not a toy.
i could live a long life
many decades, too
please think very carefully
and decide if parrot
guardianship really
is for you.
or else from place to place
i will go. and never
feel secure.
if you take me home...
please be 10000% sure

thank you

♥magic mikey macnoblebird♥

♥pteri tea rose max a.k.a. pteribird♥

on the surface of periphery

on the surface of periphery
she chose to spend her life.
not wandering too close nor
getting in to deep.
just blithely skating on that
delicate film that both
shelters and deprives
the heart of

ny botanical gardens

feeling each living
beat.

though joy

though joy
at times short lived
each second

ny botanical gardens

is a forever
emotion.

tendrils and blossoms

let tendrils and blossoms

encircle your heart

with fragrance, kindness

and wisdom.

ny botanical gardens

squ-world too or a squirrel's tail

here is sit
doing what
squirrels do
and now i
stuck posing
for camera
and you.
so i make cute
then it's time
to go...
i have to be
a squirrel,
you know.

little bronx critter

solo

solo sits alone
not knowing
what to do.
do not worry,
little solo...
soon all
the leaves
will look
like
you.

ny botanical gardens