The deep end of the dating scene It can be or seem extremely shallow That is, if you know what I mean It's, at best, the higher love's shadow
Can true love come without face-to-face? Or is that hoping for a hopeless dream We all want that someone special to embrace And become our own best king or queen
Looking out of love's falling sunset We reach for some shown connection Heart and head together and well met Without a director's silver screen correction
It seems that even the most jaded Hope for a love that is somehow blind Pushing hard past victories faded And yet, we pray for mercy to be kind
We hope for sweet truth out of the gate Hoping for that meeting from the inside It's the true love moment for which we wait Crystalized as Cupid's arrow quietly arrives
There is something special about a smile Especially when it reaches out from the inside Like Cleopatra floating down Egypt's Nile A good heart quietly proves it can confide
Those things we're afraid to let show But go miles in telling how exactly we feel Are those things that let love grow In the secrets these things reveal
(c) March 2, 2024 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“The great leading objects of the federal government … are to maintain domestic peace, and provide for the common defense.” – Alexander Hamilton (1788)
In A World of Thoughts and Other Misgivings by Michael Doyle
In a world of thoughts and other misgivings There is a lot of hurt in need of forgiving Not just for you or for me, but all it seems There are just too many fragmented dreams
Too many people have been swept into disbelieving With so much evidence that our eyes are deceiving The conundrum is more than in the eye of the beholder And yet less harsh than told by our media scolders
Like moths to the camera's flame, we cannot name Yet seems far too predestined to burn in its flame We're all on the verge until the very bitter end When what we could use is at least one true friend
Quite a bit of the evil is in the complacency Indifferent people who forget to act with decency It's so easy to remain shadowed in a quiet majority Fear of the barbarians brings us to our own barbarity
Some say it's often a desired narrative of equilibrium That fears to speak up for fear of causing disruption And humanity must speak up in recognition of the resolution To spring to mind as the presupposed, needed solution
It's a matter of artistic and logical necessity That when we see wrong, we must speak up, even if quietly The swan-geese honks aloud to bring about the empathy It fills the void to speak up against a sort of normality
That accepts less than we ever really could or even should That is, you know, if we are to ever have what is good It is these challenges that strengthen our sense of morality To do less is to bring certain end to our declining humanity
(c) March 1, 2024 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“For evil to take place, the acts of a few people are not sufficient; the great majority also has to remain indifferent. That is something of which we are all quite capable.” – Tzvetan Todorov
Time Tumbles in its own jagged way This February is given a 29th day Called out special as a leap year For myself, it's a cause to cheer
Is it four years or passing as one That my work life has been done I purposefully retired on this day So that I might recall it in this way
In 2020, I was among the walking sick I made my decision, and I made it quick That it might seem like a poetic line But I would retire on February 29
It was to be my own special Valentine That I would choose life on February 29 This was my celebration that would suffice To focus on my life by this poetic device
For most of my life, days fell as they would Some were bad, some okay, and others were good But most of them were spent serving others Trying to live up to loving one another
In the process, chemicals had burned through Leaving a mind-numbing hole, as these often do And I had been reminded hard of our numbered days Having the chance, I decided to spend mine in other ways
Photography and poetry would become my line This was, to me, a gift as a special Valentine I would spend my remaining days bringing beauty Instead of being a mindless minion doing my duty
Four years out, maybe it's a foolish dream But it's one that holds me together at the seams I raise a toast of flavored water at this year won Four as it is that have become mine and done
One day at its precious time left to be lived Gathered up in a force of one, in all I've left to give I remain thankful for this year, or was it really four This is what illusions like this are for...
(c) February 29, 2024 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
“Measures which serve to abridge the free competition of foreign articles, have a tendency to occasion an enhancement of prices.” – Alexander Hamilton (1791)
“Success depends in a very large measure upon individual initiative and exertion, and cannot be achieved except by a dint of hard work.” – Anna Pavlova
There are legends of lost treasure That goes deep and beyond known measure The locks that must be broken As the stories are told, quietly spoken
Mankind's greed leads to death An old man mumbles under breath While the bringer of life begins to bleed One more breath is all he needs
Under the pines, in a valley of sorrow Life ends so fragile, with no tomorrow We might wish to force new strength In the end, a day only has so much length
Everything and everyone that we meet Whether in a castle or out on the streets It seems everything and everyone dies All that is left is the wounded soul that cries
For all life's horrors, this is the end There are no more fairytales or pretend Sometimes the only answer is the harshness That leaves tortured souls in perpetual darkness
Left in the call to reach and touch fate Only death and misery know that date And a promise that those who survive must forgive This is the true secret of how to live
No tears can return a fractured soul There is so much of life that is out of our control All that we have is to love those we know And the secrets we've buried under the snow
Heartbreak is so hard to earnestly embrace These are the sorrows that burn their trace Our search for answers leads to arrogance And the cold calculated science of intolerance
The mountain of consequences brings us to see All that will be paid to set mankind free Free to face with death, in awe of the universe As the poet writes, maybe, his last disenchanted verse
A frozen prayer begs out to all for a little mercy To an unknown god and with a heart full of heresy Is this then all that comes in seeking glory It seems so in echo of mankind's age old story
(c) February 28, 2024 Michael Doyle All Rights Reserved
Heading out of Australia to escape this Aussie winter. First stop Japan, then UK/Ireland and if work doesn't call me back, onto Chicago. I will make it up as I go along
ALOHA PROMISES FOREVER 