Sometimes Poems

One Christmas was so much like another, in those years around the sea-town corner now and out of all sound except the distant speaking of the voices I sometimes hear a moment before sleep, that I can never remember whether it snowed for six days and six nights when I was twelve or whether it snowed for twelve days and twelve nights when I was six.
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If I were in charge of the world
I'd cancel oatmeal,
Monday mornings,
Allergy shots, and also Sara Steinberg.
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And if it snowed and snow covered the drive
he took a spade and tossed it to one side.
And always tucked his daughter up at night
And slippered her the one time that she lied.
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Sometimes I can almost see, around our heads,
Like gnats around a streetlight in summer,
The children we could have,
The glimmer of them.
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Here I love you.
In the dark pines the wind disentangles itself.
The moon glows like phosphorous on the vagrant waters.
Days, all one kind, go chasing each other.
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I'll tell you something: every day
people are dying. And that's just the beginning.
Every day, in funeral homes, new widows are born,
new orphans. They sit with their hands folded,
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I take my dreams and make of them a bronze vase
and a round fountain with a beautiful statue in its center.
And a song with a broken heart and I ask you:
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Sometimes we collide, tectonic plates merging,
continents shoving, crumpling down into the molten
veins of fire deep in the earth and raising
tons of rock into jagged crests of Sierra.
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When I was sick and lay a-bed,
I had two pillows at my head,
And all my toys beside me lay,
To keep me happy all the day.
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And sometimes it happens that you are friends and then
You are not friends,
And friendship has passed.
And whole days are lost and among them
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Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth.
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Sitting on the sands of the Bay, a small sea
Gigantic waves throw themselves on the sands, I see;
Methinks a true fact the sea never knows, is
How horribly, hungrily and thirstily it roars!
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SOMETIMES with one I love, I fill myself with rage, for fear I effuse
unreturn'd love;
But now I think there is no unreturn'd love--the pay is certain, one
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Said the little boy, 'Sometimes I drop my spoon.'
Said the old man, 'I do that too.'
The little boy whispered, 'I wet my pants.'
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I ain't afeard uv snakes, or toads, or bugs, or worms, or mice,
An' things 'at girls are skeered uv I think are awful nice!
I'm pretty brave, I guess; an' yet I hate to go to bed,
For, when I'm tucked up warm an' snug an' when my prayers are said,
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Dreams are but interludes which Fancy makes;
When monarch Reason sleeps, this mimic wakes:
Compounds a medley of disjointed things,
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Life is never ending process
It has no pause or recess
It beats on in different form
Constant changes with very good reform
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I hid the love within my heart,
And lit the laughter in my eyes,
That when we meet he may not know
My love that never dies.
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All Time Poetry

''Adventurs And Curvature''
is poetry's soul trip.
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Her emotions are uncontrollable.
Her life is uncomparable.
Only the dark knows the inner feelings of broken heart.
Sometimes, she becomes a hard milestone,
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Sometimes someone tries to divert other's prosperity and heritage,
sometimes someone tries to demolish other's blessings of legacies;

sometimes someone tries to discredit other's fame and fortune,
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Sometimes I'm up
Sometimes I'm down
Sometimes I smile
Sometimes I frown
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"Excuse me." The young boy said to the poet, "If you don't mind me asking…where do you find your words? "
The old poet smiled at the young boy…"Sometimes…" she said, "they're in the voices of the birds."

"Sometimes they're with my friends and family…sometimes on strangers in a crowd…sometimes they rise up with the morning sun…sometimes they're drifting on a cloud."
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Sometimes pain happens
Sometimes your whole world comes crushing down

Sometimes you learn from it
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Sometimes the words mean what they say,
and sometimes they don't

Sometimes the feelings rot and decay,
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...sometimes there are not enough rocks


sometimes there are too many rocks
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...sometimes there are not enough rocks


sometimes there are too many rocks
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Someone sometimes by kindness and compassion survives
someone sometimes by hatred and jealousy thrives
someone sometimes by wonderfulness strives
someone sometimes by gracefulness jives
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