...A few more poems from "Siggy's Poetry CD"


   I like dirt.
   If your house is dirty,
   I will be comfortable.

   If you have rugs,
   Just begging
   To be vacuumed,
   Where I can walk barefoot
   I will be happy.
   If the place is dirty-
   We will get along fine.

   Dishes in the sink
   Makes me feel at home.
   If I step into a house
   And it is spotless,
   I become nervous.
   I wonder where I should sit
   Or whether I should sit at all.

   If you want to put me at ease,
   Have dirt--
   Plenty of dirt
   Lodged in all corners.


You do not look differently.
The pain is there
And you want to minimize it.
You can not name the disease.
It is not acceptable.
You can not blame it on a name.
After all, it is invisible;
So you suffer alone.
Or so it seems.
You hide behind locked doors
And venture out periodically.
For appearances.

Water lily


She gave him
A litany
Of his errant ways.

Naked he stood
In front of her.

When truth is callous,
Love is wounded.

It is hard
To move on
And change.

In desperation
He seeks

Is the highest

There is nothing
Above it.