Ephemeral Self

I know my self,
what I write today
has a past but no future.

For my self
is only in the moment.

I can only write
in that visceral moment,
when that moment is gone,
so is that self
that wrote the verse,
and is now a stranger
to my new self.

©TPuma/MMXIII

I Was An Outlaw

“back-in-the-day”
to walk thru a door
of any bar gay.

Now in these joints
half the crowd is str8.
What’s the point?
“wanna date?”

Cod-pieces on swim trunks
a sure give-away.
You need not be a hunk
to tell the world you’re gay.

How about
that rainbow wrist band?
You just shout
I am in that gay clan.

But, who cares anymore (?)
Except homo-phobes
and homo-amores
with homo probes.

So, it got better, I think (?)
In my Cardigan sweater
I reminisce on those shadows
so pink.

TP.

Love Letters

Autumn evening brings
Back memories of
Colorful landscapes we
Drove about
Every weekend through
Forests and valleys and
Glens in Vermont.
Holding each other during
Interludes stopping and viewing
Just the two of us
Keeping warm by firesides
Loving our own company
Mellow moments.
Nothing else mattered
Our world was a fantasy
Pullovers and PJ’s
Quiet nights
Resting in each other’s arms
Saying little-nothings
Together forever.
Under those “twinkling” stars
Vermont at its most romantic
We thought we had it all
X marks we carved in the Maple tree
You said our love was sweet.
Zany Love.

TP/MMXIV