Before words could go free,
there was a Stranger In A Strange Town...

Words On A Screen

Words on a screen are what brought us together,
Words on a screen that we said to each other.

Words on a screen, though not what we are made of,
Words on a screen wove the first threads of our love.

Words on a screen that marked each new event,
Words on a screen that to our walls we sent.

Words on a screen, words of yours and mine,
Words on a screen, upon the line of time.

Words on a screen, without thought I did erase,
Words on a screen, gone from the book of face.

Words on a screen, though I took them all apart,
Words on a screen, stay forever in my heart.
 
Words on a screen, though it was wrong of me,
Words on a screen, I hope that you still see:

Words on a screen, here poetry and prose,
Words on a screen, the best of mine are yours.
 

A Quattuordecimensiversary Poem

It's our quattuordecimensiversary,
A word I just invented;
I looked it up on Wiki,
And though it sounds demented,
To come together in that way,
The root words all consented.

It times like these, when stress is high,
Sometimes it does some good,
To make up shit that sounds quite odd,
And so I thought I would,
In the hope that for a moment,
It just might help your mood.

It won't do much to deal with things,
It won't relieve your stress,
But if just only for a moment
(A minute, more or less),
It puts a smile on your face,
It will have passed the test.
 

Castles Of Silt And Sand

They hid all of Main Street away in a parking lot,
Then built a new mall where the coffee goes stale in the pot,
The rent-a-cops say, "You can't do this, don't do that;"
The old folks don't stay long enough there to take off their hats.

The spin doctor says, "It's not us, it's the way it was built,
It's ornate and it's pretty, but the castle is built upon silt,
That's why there's no running, or jumping, or just having fun,
You'll have to play quietly until the repairs are all done."

So folks wander off in a void of recalling what was,
The few that remain, in perpetual fear of the fuzz.
Just then a friend from back in the day happens by,
Who says, "There's a place; the folks might could give it a try."

It's just down the street -  the air there is not quite as stuffy,
The powers that be are not quite so huffy and puffy,
It's ornate and it's pretty, and the castle is built upon sand,
But the coffee is fresh; the barristas do not like it bland.