i don’t watch you
and yet once a year
i spend time analyzing
and watching highlights
of your season gone by,
i compare your members
and design a hierarchy
of the greatness within you
but still, seriously,
and honestly, basketball,
i don’t care about you, really.
not even a little bit.
this poem is for
all the times
i never said what
was on my mind,
and regretted the
missed opportunity.
here i have my chance
to say all the thoughts
that flowed back inside
my head and weren’t said:
no, my eyes were open
when i chose this shirt
and that’s not a stain
on my tie, it’s a design.
i do get hives
when i eat seafood,
why do you ask?
of course i don’t know
the speed limit,
i was driving
too fast to read
the signs as i sped by.
oh dear, no,
i said ‘please pass the
shiitake mushrooms.’
as a matter of fact,
you’re stupider.
i, teary eyed, welcome Your birth
knowing that it only brings Your death
understanding why it must be
but desiring for another way
unpayable debt rests in my heart
wanting to do more and change
alter the world through actions
yet nothing i do will come close
useless toils without You
i need You in me to make me whole
empty without, overflowing within
tears of joy welcome Your birth
get my coffee
make my lunch
clean the house
do the laundry
make me dinner
you are my spouse
geese stand in lush field
waiting for their pond to form
soft grey rain falling
Remember that in giving any reason at all for refusing, you lay some foundation for a future request. – Sir Arthur Helps