Daily Verse a short verse (almost) every day

Your Favorite Things

Red wine and coffee
and going to beer gardens.
Playing with puppies,
skiing and sky-diving.

Cider in autumn,
tequila in spring:
these are a few of
your favorite things.

Having fresh baguettes
and blue cheese in Paris.
Sailing the ocean
and riding fast horses.

Soccer in summer
and winter skating:
these are a few of
your favorite things.

Scent of sushi,
taste of a steak.
Watching Eagles win.
You love The Eternal Lightness of Being,
and hip-hop and beach tanning.


A forgotten piece from a lost past
decimated a lifetime ago,
suddenly encountered triggers a blast
of memories of joy and sorrow.

The family gone, the friends never made,
a whole world of potential denied.
The blissful oblivious cavalcade
of my reality tossed aside.

Tortured by ghosts of what could have been,
severed from the needs of the present.
Pain felt only by eyes that have seen,
yet innocent, immature, nascent.

Every thing that reminds me of then
must gradually be discarded.
Those times are not easily forgotten
but I will not be caught unguarded.

You were my home once, but now you’re poison:
the one thing that can counter my might.
What was once nourishing is now noisome.
I now know you are my Kryptonite.


The night was cold, long, and deep,
and my lamp had almost run out.
Stumbling in the dark I began to weep,
no one to hear me cry, no one to hear me shout.

The night is darkest before the dawn,
and silent, and deadly, and overwhelming.
The sweetest springs follow winters long,
even those that can seem never-ending.

The question is not if the night will end -
only a matter of time before the Sun has its day -
but if I will last to see and spend
a few moments in that glorious display.

The distant clouds start blushing red,
the first to spot an approaching star.
The world wakes, shakes its sleepy head,
I am sighted again, and I see very far.

But as I look, I can find no cause for despair.
What was I afraid of? Where has it all gone?
What I felt in the night clearly isn’t there.
I made it, and now I stand welcoming the dawn.


A reason to cheer,
for food, family, and beer,
to celebrate our time here.

Something to distract from drudgery,
the suffering, pain, and misery,
to dream a soothing reverie.

Gather around and stand like this,
pay no heed: nothing’s amiss,
have some socially mandated bliss.

A Higher Stage of Grief

I refused it, denied it,
absolutely decried it,
this could never happen to me.

How dare he? The nerve!
I hope he gets what he deserves:
an evil witch as ugly as can be.

Is it true that we are done?
No way this can be spun
into a happy ending where he is mine?

My world is ashen and bleak.
I no longer eat or sleep or speak.
I just cry and weep and sob and bawl and pine.

These are the pieces of my life now.
Well, almost all of them, anyhow.
Slowly I will build myself up again.

Having been there, and done that,
having on my face fell flat,
I do think that I’ve learned a lot from pain.

But there’s no way this was my fault,
I am innocent by default.
One day he’s gonna pay for what he’s done.

If only he’d given us a chance,
my life would still have true romance,
we’d be two instead of far and lonely ones.