Street talking...

via enjoythesilence

Pete Zab

via LoveMore

Greg Kadel

Stood round the mandala made of chalk

Listened to all the souls that talk

A decade of poetry confession

Lifting myself out of every discretion

Eager to share my own self expression

Homeless, drunks, artists, old, and wise

Here there is no prize for disguise

Willing to wear my anger proud

Still need to remember to project sound loud

Fist pump and snap to somber melody

Medicine derived from brevity

Cab driver hearing my rhyme-

Would you like to go out sometime?

I'd like to hear you speak more poetry-

Perhaps over coffee or tea?

What else do you write?

Do you bring other subjects to light?

Unfortunately the men tend to inspire me
First fruit trees then faded debris

Romantic poems of despair

Whatever I decide feels unfair

I've got to get out and try something new

Life has got plenty color to chew

I see details where no one else looks

Time to take this vision to the books