My Choice Draught

I’m inebriated on life

And all it has to offer

I keep taking big gulps

—Coughing, spluttering, spilling—

Rather than sips and swallows.

There is so much music

Sights, smells, things to try

Tastes to taste

Feelings to feel

Thoughts to think

There are so many books,

Sports, jobs, games, skills, responsibilities

And the people!

The people!

There are so many of them

So many of us

So many stories,

Tales of families, sorrows, joys

Of evil, good and all that’s between,

Friends, acquaintances, lovers, and all who could be...

Why is it that so few will touch my life?

So few... and so many...

I am drunk on presence

And thirsting for presence

I vacillate between extreme loneliness

And a desire for solitude

But the people

I wouldn’t give them up

I wouldn’t go sober

For while they kill me, enrage me,

Love me, challenge me, seduce me,

Question me, inform me, teach me,

Learn from me, touch me, strike me,

Enable me, analyze me, judge me,

Forgive me, kiss me, speak to me,

Destroy me and rebuild me

I know that I would not be me

Without you.

Let us get drunk on our presence

On our very being, and that being

Together.

Free Time

There are times 

when

free time 

gets

squeezed 

and pinched

into tiny packets

surrounded by 

the semi-organized 

chaos of 

a busy life.

I unwrap one in this moment

and realize...

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Screen Glow

The glow of screens will light our way

To happiness, we’ll seem content

The shine of screens will make our day

As all our times are nearly spent

And as we write our tales in books

We take a retrospective glance

To see the times and he who took

Them all without a second chance

Look! there he laughs so full of spite

A shapeless thing of blue aglow

The one who turns our days to night

And wastes our times to bring us low

All the hours he greed’ly drained

To gulp and swallow down our days

While we, deceived, were safe restrained

Our books contain a single phrase:

“I lived to be just entertained.”

And all that our frail lives contained

Will not be worth a mocking praise.