Another disappointment another failed cycle
Another thousand tears, my heart an icicle
A sled ride rapidly down the slope
To the land of depression and dashed hope
 I sit at my window and watch the last days of winter, the sun burns the frost, the birds begin to sing, leaves turn green; flowers kiss each other and elope
I am but a microcosm of the world,  I know - my heart must be tame – for soon I’ll be reading the ‘Book of Baby Names’.
Remember this: It is only when the night is darkest that the sun will start to rise…
as will my belly.

Mike Berkley

Can I write about a boy whose blood surges through my veins
whose heart pumps in my chest as a ferocious  wind
May I write about a young man whose blue eyes pierce through darkness and
spread gold on shadows and transforms sins of the world – is this not profound?
I’d like to write about my son who makes my breath shallow and makes my heart pound
I must have his spirit close like a good suit of clothes and a handsome vest
I must write about the gift of joy that I receive every minute from my son, my very, very best
But write I cannot as the desk I sit at is splintering under the weight of my love

Mike Berkley

alone.  blues biting at my bones
cold and hard and taking me for all I’m for
i wipe the blues to the dusty floor
whole now and stronger too
present and fully accounted for
in transition from blue to renew
free again.  and reborn too

Mike Berkley

A bigger hard drive
Another financial nose dive
An earthquake in Chile  -  a  huge eruption
Priests with boys –spiritual corruption
Watch the news and what do you see -
Love, compassion and harmony?
What sells the papers – makes the tabloids scream?
Tiger Woods, Bill Clinton, erring human
Who of us is not guilty of sin?
Stop – I want to get off and start over again.
Don’t give me a dollar, don’t give me a dime
Just give me a hug and some quality time
Power can be found deep in your heart, not at the end of a poisoned dart
Love can be found at the corners of a smile
Not in a brothel up the road half a mile
Spirituality can be found in an embrace of the lonely
Not in an Ashram for $199.00 only
Let’s end this poem with a new beginning – a new way to get back
An effort to forgive others and ourselves
Change our spiritual bankruptcy from the red to the black.

Mike Berkley

It hit me this morn
that I am really torn
about the power
to
transform from
being forlorne
to being.
for to be is
to
be
free.
to be free
is
to
be.
So you see that after all is said and done it is with this voice
that
 i
make
the
choice
to be
forlorn
or to
be
free.

Mike Berkley

Went out tonight with a witty lady
Felt wanted and said say hey
it’s good to be with someone fine, blond and blue and smelling good too
indulged in good Barolo and felt like a man
rap and say sweet things (that should ‘ve  been whispered in her ear),  but kept in the can
(being appropriate doesn’t allow for poor behavior on the first date) and
just glad that I was face to face with this beautiful thang  white teeth beautiful hair free and sexy looked me in the eyes held her own but told me to take control
a date, a night, an experience
dinner with rap and underlying desire
time spent in each other’s arms (we never touched)
 we hung, let’s hang some mo
but no…away we went in 2 separate cabs to 2 separate homes and 2 separate lives
God
I thank you
for granting me
the opp
to partake in a night of
connectedness  
feeling on the very precipice
of possibility
I should ‘ve but I didn’t
 I was good don’t you see
but hey don’t pity me…
I’ll see you Saturday.
and then…
maybe

Mike Berkley