Happiest of Birthday's to a wonderful daugher.






that little girl

frolicking in smile

two brothers jostling

for attention's wile


it's been twenty-five now

and I've missed a lot

as time fritters away

in an afterthought


two infants clamour

for need and love

and she is there

like a nesting dove


her soul and spirit

are a driving force

inspiring me

to follow a course


following laughter

and honest affection

her magic touch

like a soothing confection


I pray for her family

and wish her delight

on this special day

where hearts alight


DeaBeePea 9-14-18



never think of them

in their tartan tease

they lead you astray

in their fancy play


they help you look

fashionable and cool

and make you feel

carefree and gay


when you put them on

you feel secure

and send a message

of colourful panache


and your mood does follow

that flashy trend

and it has an impact

a societal splash


but it's a fabric reality

with material implications

predicting the future

by questionable means


sometimes inflexible

despite spandex threads

as people are fickle

with changing seams


so as far as recommendation

and prediction goes

the chart is faulty

in its excel charm


so the guidelines should be

a naked objective

cautious of the butterick

and the overweight alarms


I tend to feel

that each day is anew

and the rules might change

each stitch in time


that red robin of morn

as it's bobbin' along

asks me to listen

with its red-bellied chimes


so unplanned gaudiness

is not a bad thing

it's atune to madness

and its therapeutic buzz


so today I look

for reasons to apply

my current thoughts

and I just say "because"


DeaBeePea 9-14-18

Why Bother


What the hell

is going on

Am I going mad

in this silly game


It's a valid concern

as I ponder life

and its stupid rules

and methods so lame


but everything is there

because it's there

and somebody put it there

for a reason unknown


there is or was

a very strange motive

maybe of greed

or something overblown


but it also could be charity

of welcoming mirth

so you never know

as it stands so still


and if you attempt

to grab it quick

it might slip away

like a greasy dill


but on the other hand

it might caress you

and ask for help

or unconditional love


so as far I can see

there is only one way

and that is the spirit

of adventure thereof


repercussions are iffy

so there might be some pain

the boat might tip

or hit a rock on its way


so whatever you chose

whether up or downstream

have a spare paddle

to save for night play


'cause dreams are the best

like a sweet lullaby

or a tacky nightmare

a soaked pillow to tell


the turbulence is fun

at least to a degree

so take my advice with caution

I have something to sell


DeaBeePea 9-14-18



Is my song done?

this faltering voice of anger

as the darkness rolls in

becoming the day's light


there is no birthplace or cross

as the turmoil is quiet

my countenance strained

in my compromising blight


my ear is changing

have I become a slop?

rising as a bleeding soul

not knowing who I am


a counterfeit of my being

a lying seraph?

no longer sighing

as a floundering scam


Is someone hiding?

ready to pounce in reply

not laughing at peril

but forgiving my human flee


I want to hear your voice

but yea

I know not from where it comes

from my fractured tree


where the branches are struggling

reaching for nothing it seems

but one is for a swing

and a youthful sway of satire


a blink of hope

that teases my ignorance

my feebleness is spared

by an incarnate choir


my weeping is intermittent

in a cadence of cognizance

and my lips are burning

in liquor's flaming touch


a now see more

all these inspired faces

with words of love and warning

of honesty's bold uncrutch


I sit in my garment

unconscious of my subject

floating as a phantasm

less judgmental in my doth


Hark... the heart is still

only trembling in its beat

as I write of passion and fury

soothed by the poet's cloth


DeaBeePea 9-14-18ha



so hard to climb

yet superfluous in embodiment

fame's proud temple

shining in candied light


this malignant star

waging a silly war

checked by empty pride

awaiting fortune's blight


there is a low vale

shadowed by the forest

and imposing hills

inviting a popular inn


poverty views this parade

and celebrates in yells

ignoring the oppressiveness

the voice of praise so thin


ne'er a higher aim

is competence so buried

the voice of neglect a carnival

this obstreperous trump of fame


the simple tales of artless lines

so profound in their glitter

creating deafness in their wail

as our thoughts are dimmed to same


but this quiet minstrel walks

thought homely in array

his harp a sole companion

whistling wildly in rung


this poor villager inspires

bereft of pageantry's claim

haunting the drone of pain

with hopeful chords so strung


the stagnant frown

begins to turn to smiles

a quiet and gentle wind

of Nature's charms begin to blow


though these words are of wonder

and appeasing to the weak

there is a warning of revenge

for sensuality’s brewing glow


Rise, my sons of harmony

Flood the streets of wine

Join the larks and linnets

And join in freedom’s notes


Heaven now inspired

Its hospitality earthed in mortals

Rejecting tyrants and their fists

A harvested of bountiful oats


DeaBePea 9-15-18

Poetry at 6:00 AM


looking out

still night

bubbling brown

that coffee spout


not to abrupt

I kindly ask

not to shake my head

my thoughts irrupt


still deathly silent

from lurking chirps

and hair askew

from my tossing bent


digestion too early

nutrition delayed

with afterthoughts

my brain so swirly


yesterday's news

is still today's

my announcements unspoken

not even clues


I ponder this

and ask myself

at this time

do I actually exist?


there are signs of the past

on my cluttered desk

undone notes

and scribbles fast


so someone was here

though the seat is cold

the carpet is worn

and there's a dribble of beer


the hum from the fridge

a conversation drone

and keyboard clicks

an echoing bridge


that takes me across

to creativity's voice

a fanciful place

where I am boss


I certainly like that

in my spoiled muse

a storyville place

where I skulk like a cat


I write again soon

when the sun is up

my verse will be spewing

from my beautiful balloon


DeaBeePea 9-15-18



Columbus' men were frantically rowing

they worked so hard

but it was really very tragic

'cause he didn't know where the hell he was going




the leader of the free world?

what a horrifying thought

all it indicates to me

is the stupidity of the American voter unfurled




the Doctor gave me pills

I went home with less money

and I'm unsure of their interaction

are you an expert on wills?




what does it cause and what does it not?

lots of stories for sure

there's so many it's hard to endure

but loquaciousness I certainly got




too many to choose from now

it used to be just lager and ale

now there's lots of IPA's

of course, there's always a brown cow




I no longer know of this

but occasionally my mind reminds

of my days as a fumbling clod

and my thirty-second moment of bliss




what is wrong with you?

you get so mad when I'm late

it's almost as if you want me there

and I know that isn't true


Sports Fans


she's jumping up and down

and then the tears start to trickle

then she turns to me and asks

"Who's playing?" with a frown




poetry is actually cheating

I can write whatever I want

making up words and not making sense

a form of emotional excreting




they tend to want their way

just like people I know

but you can shut them on and off

and they're easier to throw




it looks like splattered paint to me

there's not much that I can see

"Why that's a picture of you."

your stomach can't you see?




I like to read a lot

particularly between the lines

because that's when all the good stuff happens

to hell with the corny plot


DeaBeePea 9-15-18




Oh thy cabinet

The drawers will they yield?

It is time in my questioning

To inspect the remains


The lonely room is quiet

And as the crooked bins are pulled

An ancient squeak occurs

And dust in reaction rains


The sudden smell of the past

Rank yet mellow in odor

As the mass of ancient treasures

Stay still in the shock of air


Notes of fading message

And baseball cards secured

By a rubber band of red

So tightly wrapped with care


Greeting looks from photographs

Rather stern and awed in pose

Scratched and torn with abuse

In their crowded longish rows


Buttons, pins and ribbons

That long ago relay race

And school reports of my progress

Of undisciplined gabby throes


Two clearies sit so staunch

Still with subtle glow

Where is the Royal Crown sac?

purple and velvety to touch


a handful of useless dominoes

I wonder how they part?

All these things that belong

That meant to me so much


Keepsakes meant for peace

And a recollecting mind

But they seemed to be forgotten

In my negligent and dusty timing


The musty mould growing

As the house mosses over

Bereft of laughter

And children climbing


And then card of greeting

Parched from its dingy prison

Something twitches me

As my finger embrace the edge


“I cannot face you, eye to eye

It hurts much my love

I’ so sad that we are done

To honour you is my pledge.”


DeaBeePea 9-17-18



white or jumbo

NEVER micro

that chemical crap

what am I?... a bimbo?


so white and fluffy

with a touch of snap

crispy clouds

so nice and fluffy


those kernels pop

in quite the explosion

making a sound

like a jazzy bebop


music to my ears

as the bowl fills up

but my oh my

it's overflowing I fear


it's on the floor

and in the sink

and many crevices

and behind the door


my hands are now brimming

and it's still spouting out

this crackling snow

in popcorn I'm swimming


I try to pull out

that chord behind

with my grasping toes

my balance in doubt


but it is too late

as I collapse to the floor

as a confetti-ish shower

I cannot abate


my elbow goes awry

as it knocks the air-popper

and it bounces off my head

as I yell out a cry


the cord has now snapped

and silence is golden

I lie in this blanket

I think I am trapped


I look all around

contemplating my peril

"I have an idea!"

I shout with joyous abound


so I reach for the butter

and the shaker of salt

and season this soft billow

in mouth-watering a flutter


DeaBeePea 9-17-18



Life is not a dream

But its song is quite the same

A cleansing morning rain

Foretelling a storied day


An open chasm of myth

And gossip along the way

Brand new thoughts and worries

And nature, making room for play


The transience of all this

Sunny hours flitting by

Extroverted roses blooming

Denying the lament of storm


Rapidly, merrily we look

So often then mistaken

Overcome by doubt

In our mind’s secluded dorm


What will sway us?

To keep our smile abreast

Dread and death invisible

As we dance a song embraced


Letting sorrow win

Such an east task to essay

Hidden in our disbelief

Our wall to self-efface


Take your golden wings

And fly amidst the awe

Your hope of elastic springs

A reckless but moral fling


Strong will to bear us all

Liberal conscience holding

A daily presence in court

A backrow place to sing

A modest demand for courage

The roads will weave a spell

But turning many corners

Will ease the burdensome load


They say time is of the essence

But dare I measure this quiddity

In the watchless life of thought

That finds its cunning goad


We know not of the stairs

And its mindful string aside

The reliance of its claim

To lead us in destination’s way


So this required combination of steps

Gingerly and determined

What more is there to our life?

Sometimes unaware of our prey


DeaBeePea 9-18-18

The Letter


What is it now?

Her dainty fingers paint

Her hand in rapid motion

In youthful and passionate phrase


What is her ominous bent

Is it me who fears these words?

Her curlicues are pretentious

She is in this crazy phase


She sits with sleeves drawn

And perspiration down her neck

Her tresses hiding the shadows

Of her long and angry face


Her band of crystals

And graceful silken dress

What is this presentation?

That makes me sense disgrace


The pen drops from her hands

Falling breathlessly to her feet

Still sustaining words

So eager in its spill


Looking down she sees

The trickled ink, upon

Her silk-laden lap

In its dark and meandering rill


This girl looks in disdain

Upset at the utensils message

Picking it and saying

“Do not act in such a rile”


She is unaware of beauty, it seems

Restraining from the view

From the small and curtained window

In its uncelebrating style


It is a shining hour

And the blue sky radiates its purity

And the sun casts a glittery glow

That has not caught her eye


The garden is elegant

And gate is partly open

Why is she not sharing?

This glorious afternoon July


And behind her stands

An open door of glass

To slopes of rolling grasses

And a noble marble stair


But her head is drawn

still gazing at the bond

so strange and heartful

in an uneasy quiet glare


It then becomes me

Hark! A stunning realization

She is writing a letter of love

To me, in my startled stare


DeaBeePea 9-18-18



My dear, you sit forlorn

The book lies unread

You sit without smile

Come sit by the hearth, and be warmed


The wind is harsh and cold

The clouds so darkly pile

Is there something you see?

That has your joy so swarmed?

My sister, yes, the mist is bothering

So much concealed

The fog has untraced

The hedge and path of home


So featureless is nature’s face

And I doubt their return

The world will never be

the place of youthful roam

Everything is waxing

Like frozen statues afraid

That rustling leaves are of the past

And the trees all bend in frown


We look back at beauty

And write of it verse

And dance and sing to celebrate

But it now seems an act of clowns


It is sadness that fills the mind

Oh such a dreary day

That fills my heart with unknowing

As if I’ve never lived before

My dear sister, so somber

Changes are everlasting

We can rely on many things

And one is the unforeseeable shore


We know of shells and jellyfish

Remember our throwing game?

And running miles, on golden sand

And dancing in the waves


That is one of the memories

that we share from halcyon days

as much alive today

as from our time of finding caves


spelunking through those years

no thought of safety’s kind

blinded by the future

and excitements clouding mask


So awaken to each day

And be beside me at the hearth

And talk of what we think

Of tomorrow’s sun to bask


DeaBeePea 9-18-18



Where and what is my heart?

Of secrets and strange silence

Doeth I stall the honesty

That provides me with heavenly truth?


Would I shatter if so revealed?

The confusion put to rest

The days and nights with clarity

Just like in sheltered youth


Would fame and wealth be gone?

As intermittent dreams

And the past be simply inevitable

In its solid foundation of lore


And how is this organ fed?

In its tattered cords of fear

Enclosed in bodily doubt

And thickened skin of war


The lonely times are burdened

By awareness of what we shield

Too cautious in our letting

Neglecting the intimate flow


Of universe and blood

Excitements mortal shock

The mild tears do trickle

Accepting grief that isn’t woe


Is the graduation to pale

A giving up of love?

Faded dreams of laughter

An easy path to end


The extremities are sharp

And our widened arms not apt

To scale this might mountain

The direction to with I wend


The wildest of emotion

both good news and freshly grieving

will score my aging veins

with lust and bated breath


This honesty will bridge the gap

Of translations language door

So hard to open in question

As the other side is death


When I dwell in a moonlight glimmer

It seems too subtle to feel

But in its modest light

There blooms a ray ablaze


This stream of heart goes through me

Scalding my silly pride

A new impulsiveness given

For enticing staccato days


DeaBeePea 9-18-18

Death of Power


In this fair place

Considered in myth a valley

Lies a stone structure

Of monolithic grace


It is known to be secured

By angels of wide wings

Stately and fair

No rascals to be lured


But this domain reared its head

In intimidating radiance

Leaving many questions

What King lied in its bed?


The flags seemed to flow

In the straight and stiffest staunchness

Whether red or gold or green

In the stillest winds to blow


Wanderers cast in curious view

And breathed the putrid odor

Seeing mystic movement

Through windows of mullioned blue


There was never storm or cold

Just a chilly heavy air

As these onlookers thought they heard

A lute’s lawful melody so told


Finally spotted were braids of snow

And a crown of the deepest emerald

and the glow of pearl and ruby

and his monumental throne bestowed


And from the fair palace door

Adorned in regal trumpets

Came a sound of such majesty

It rang from ceiling to floor


And out beyond the garden gates

Far over the moated bridge

A Choir that echoed sovereignty

And enveloped all the fates


Years later the land had changed

More villages surrounded this pinnacle

And the magical place so viewed

Began to seem deranged


The flags still blew each day

But some were faded and torn

And the white braids so proud

Were dry and stringy grey


The chorus forms a crooked line

To a now discordant song

And hideous laughter cries

From the once orchestral shrine


DeaBeePea 9-18-18



How thoughtless you were

Simple and modest

But not in humility

But in useless attire


Tired of yourself

And not sharing soul

Careless in voice

And a quiet crier


It appeared that no change

Would ever weave its way

And glassy eyes no twinkle

And your long hair aimless


Do you sing only one song?

So melancholy and slow

We have heard it before

It must be nameless


As you are my friend

In vacant smile

I fear your childhood has gone

Why have you let it wane?


Shall I sing you an air?

And raise your spirits bright

Or is that an unfair dare?

Creating undo pain


Are you fatigued?

By a constant beating heart

Of which I have not answered

In my elusive silly ways


It is just my way

I know your depth is true

But it seems you have disappeared

From those frolicking sunny days


Oh! My secret spirit within

Cannot you see that burning fire

Have I drenched you

With the water of my play?


I promise you

That your coals are still akindle

We can share those moments of gold

With together times we pray


I let it go too long

I can see your tears have dried

Your numbing sleep

Has taken me to bed


I must forgive myself

And look into your eyes

And hold out my hand to you

As our shaking hearts are fed


DeaBeePea 9-19-18

Forever Warning


Yea, I have been warmed

By bitter storms

The blazing sun

And ignoring grins


I cannot define

The things I have done

To encounter in my mind

The recollection of sin


My conscious seems strong

But it breaks

When my eyes dream in day

And my head is turned


The signs are there

Though, It seems I am blind

In thoughtless greed

As I look for things I have yearned


But laughter ensues

And I awaken to joy

There is lazy comfort

And empty time to ponder


Confidence is the frame

That traps me in this place

Not aware of its fragility

Leaving me to wander


I look up to the tall

And down to those of short

And the simplicity overtakes me

In my avoidance of tasking fate


And Love is lustful and grand

The duty is forgotten

And someone’s heart is broken

And I react in idle prate


My poems become a path

To ego’s pointless end

And my inner fame is pointless

As lessons continue to pale


My mind begins to spiral

And my pride begins to turn

To sudden frightening doubt

As I engage my humiliating veil


I look out at the sun

And the trees are gently waving

And I think of who I am

And my overarching task


I belong, but only to give

And my name is what I am

And conquer nothing at all

Except to kindly ask


DeaBeePea 9-19-18



I dreaded that pine

It branching so

Pointing to questions

With needling poise


And that railroad blast

In a rather strange poignancy

Ribboned shouts

Of transported noise


That cluster of birds

Flitting and chirping

Is it confusion?

That I witness in my mist


My foggy eyes

And shadowed mind

Attempting to look

At landscapes that persist


This wonderful call

That should be good news

Is causing fear

In a mountainous chain


The rising waters

Swallow my imagination

As my emotional beach

Battles in deign


The power to mangle

This innocence…

Corrupted by knowledge

In cynical awe


But this is magic

In saintly perfection

And my spiritual anchor

Should find no flaw


The growth abounds

Within my stunted growth

As I take my scythe

on hesitant paths


will I be tainted

as my soul aspires

to survive this place

of polluted baths


As I look at the daffodils

In their startling yellow gown

I shake my head

And ask of my whys


Certainly this beauty

And cheerful music

Is hope in chorus

And love’s sweet cries


DeaBeePea 9-20-18

The Man


What is the wisdom?

Of men so bold

Courage of trickery

And speech to masses


Urbane and witty

Warm and conciliatory

On cold concrete

And blowing grasses


Is their staff a cane

And throne a wicker chair

Their sophistication thin

And voice a whimper?


A fleeting moment

A dry thicket brush fire

The woman’s eyes arise

Is she in cautious simper?


There is love in return

A grinning token

Her passion steps forward then back

What is this dictator of her heart?


This masked marvel

His lips are trembling

With a lust for power

A simple plan to compart


Does he momentarily

Hide in the reeds?

Waiting to pounce

Hunting for an instant


Or clumsily in loquaciousness

Batter the mind

With galling stupidity

And soul so distant


Are we aware?

Of his prison

This liquid emptiness

Spilling on our innocence


Why does our permit

Include our praise?

Even if just a flicker

Before our angry dissonance


This granite hill

Where the music echoes

Deafening us to disgust

A blame within our spinning head


Do we look

And see this hopeless place?

Or move away and sew

Without this feeble thread


DeaBeePea 11-29-18

The Mind


contour lines

divisions acute

linear and spherical

shrinking and blowing


a bird's IQ

misunderstood in nest

angry at once

insults throwing


mad at oneself

pissed off is the word

urinating thoughts

so stupid and quick


imagination's toss

I think I'm smart!

but others shake

and describe as thick


poetry and stories

blow like the wind

impulse and thought

juxtaposed like vomit


out of control

and spewing madly

put together

with a hasty grommet


moments of genius

in hopeful strain

a hole in my head

to free my brain


computer-like occasionally

an electrical charge

that numbs me too

a bruise of disdain


there is ginkgo biloba

to add to this frenzy

as I grow maidenhair now

on this dome of grey


and I think of Christmas

despite is glare

and dream of romance

and a ride on a sleigh


but yes, it keeps ticking

unexplainable really

this pile of mush

that has gone to slush


its direction is errant

and its purpose unknown

but it creates a lot of havoc

in its laughing gush


DeaBeePea 11-27-18

The Writing Table


Such a life

Do these pages sing?

Flipping so loosely

Yet numbered in time


the prologue teases us

Expectations arise

But the story unravels us

In its dramatic climb


through love and anger

And confusions wrath

Our mouths wide-open

In startled awe


We forget this author

Of classical might

And his tortured soul

In its aging thaw


ladies and gentlemen

A fractured chorus woven

Harmony not found

In their selfish stand


Taking paths of those before

Interrupting nature’s journey

Until on beaches, their feet do find

A peaceful and inspiring land


at times the prancing poetry

Lulls my weary head

Soaring in illusion

with imagery’s magic potion


at times the sudden starkness

Jolts my steady hands

I turn towards the cover

In slow and curious motion


the chapters long

But the pages turn

In metronome’s pace

A mesmerizing stir


Trying to contemplate

Upcoming repercussion

Employed in imagination

And reality’s blur


How frugal are these words

Or are they delicate

Strung out like lace

And rimmed in satin


I see these words

Clicking from a mind

Each letter a thought

Pounding the platen


DeaBeePea 11-26-18



I have a dream

The big bubble

Forced integration

Of all hopes and fears


A climax of emotion

Spilling over

Anger and love

Both laughter and tears


All of rainbow’s colours

Filtering through the doubt

Forming a greyish mud

Coating our nervous skin


Many go silent

Others begin to shout

Ridiculous solutions

And ideas razor thin


What do we remember?

As the sun is tainted now

And all the blue is gone

A poisonous vapour spews


But the dome is ever strong

Repelling and deathly blast

This angry stew is boiling

Threatening a pending ooze


Where is the sea?

And where is our soul?

As the roots start to rot

And leaves say goodbye


The seasons are blind

Imagination dead

Is this our last breath?

Or a held back cry


A strange smoke ensues

Clouding the air

As our vision strains

To see our neighbour’s eyes


In our goaless stagnation

Our minds loudly stutter

Waiting to start

With a new found guise


There is a humid resin

Forcing a unity

That gives a mirage

Of an open door


But it is real

Our hands suddenly meet

And love is found

For my dream to pour


DeaBeePea 11-25-18



To excuse myself

In lifelong breathe

Suffocating contentment

In a daily search for why


But forgiveness is my bread

Purpose is my mission

The answers fly before me

Like dandelion dust in pry


I float from thought to thought

In verses long and short

Taking me away

To a sojourn from my pain


But what ensues is miracle

All hope and fear in one

Gradual glues of love

That help erase the stain


Fragility it is tested

Like a theatrical exam

Never the stage does clear

Nor the curtains draw to end


Prayers and wishes come true

With faith and growing minds

Mature in ignorant fumble

Modest kisses just to send


Like a cat through life

Given many chances

The paths do wind and weave

The destination a mist


And though the vision’s obscured

The smell is bittersweet

Adding to my broth

In an experimenting tryst


My spoon and scalded lips

Forget caution’s gentle ride

As I stomp and clamour so blind

In inspiration’s walk


The map is such a scribble

It’s unfolded on my bed

As I ponder every day

Without looking at the clock


I hear the reckless laughter

Absorbing it for me

Convinced that all is well

At least for time’s awhile


The ending will be happy

As each stone is put in place

Each one painted with my heart

As I stub my toe in smile


DeaBeePea 11-22-18



Plaudits and laughter

This funny face

Flexing brows

And sympathetic frown


Being of truth

Sad, then happy, then sad again

Naked in integrity

In a vivid gown


Are those painted lips a camouflage?

A sober art

Penciled in as real

A flame of hidden fear


Large buttons to tighten

The heart in shackled place

And a ruffled nape

A nervous throat to blear


Those floppy feet

In lazy plod

Hesitant on their path

Directions aimless veer


Towards the audience so fickle

Quick smiles and vacant nods

But patience is so thin

As it turns to ill-felt jeer


Spinning in the tutu

A pirouette of jaunty pose

Dancing for the downcast

A candid stray from sorrow


A long and waving tie

A flag of windward byes

Selling the soul for todays

The yesterdays to borrow


The apple nose so bright

Honking its comic retort

A place for children’s hands

A curious embrace so brief


Cheeks are shouting in crimson

Pinches of innocent joy

Blotched in aqueous colour

Radiant in disbelief


Polka-dots and stripes

And baggy pants so full

And hair of titian carrots

And gloves on aging hands


An act that is never infinite

It dies for hours a day

In search of caring love

From one who understands


DeaBeePea 11-22-18

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