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Remember this: Often when you read my words, They were written by my heart Without checking with me first, But, also remember, I read them later, And let them stand. • Donovan Baldwin

Old men should never fall in love. The pain is not as deep as it was in youth, But, in many ways, is deeper and more mortal. Old men have no way to step aside, Nor deflect, The feelings that they thought, Have long been buried. New love in old men brings up memories, And dreams Which they no longer know how To deal with. Nor can they hope to live forever, Dance all night, Or make love With passion, As they did when they were young. Even worse, they know it. They know they could make love, In ways which might surprise, A younger inexperienced woman, Who probably believes they've never made love. But, There's no way to explain Without being laughed at, Or spurned, And, You certainly cannot demonstrate. There's no where for an old man to go, If he loves and is rejected, Or loves and is accepted. An old man in love becomes trapped, Seldom living with his love, But with dreams, memories, Phantoms, and fantasies instead. • Donovan Baldwin

might not like the words you inspire me to write down... but you do inspire me • Donovan Baldwin

touched by his desire brought to life by needs and wants... his goddess rises • Donovan Baldwin

her mouth speaks to mine wet lips dripping poetry... glistening with words • Donovan Baldwin

I, my own Prometheus, Torn by my own demons, Harpies, devils, carrion birds, Uncertainty and fate, Tearing at my breast, Ripping out the heart That once beat for adventure, Travel, and investigation, Of the lovely little corners, Of mortals, to whom I sought to give fire. • Donovan Baldwin

long forgotten tale in another place and time... i dreamed you loved me • Donovan Baldwin

psyche viewed eros loved her lover more in light yet nearly lost love • Donovan Baldwin

Just some morning thoughts over coffee. Exercise is a broad word. Even if we exercise our options and leave out the concepts of an exercise in writing, mathematics, or, gods forbid, logic, or futility, and stick to the physical, it's still a broad topic. I first became interested in exercise as a skinny (yes I was) teenage boy, and pleaded with my father to get me a set of weights for Christmas. I looked at the pictures of Bruce Randall, Mr. Universe, and started lifting. Exercise is work! And, it's not magic, either. You don't exercise for a few weeks and look like Bruce... or, in some cases, a few years... decades? So, I studied a little and learned, from various articles in muscle mags, that THAT form of exercise didn't do a lot for cardiovascular health, or, as they said back then, endurance... which didn't really hit me until a few years later when I first read "Aerobics" by Dr. Kenneth Cooper. Of course, in the meantime, the U.S. Army introduced me to new levels and types of exercise, including the exercise of self discipline. They were VERY persuasive in that. However, I DID learn, as a result of this exercise, that I could do a lot more than I ever thought I could. That's another story. I'll exercise my option to tell that one later. For me, over time, exercise became a much broader topic with a lot more to know and learn... still evolving... especially now that I'm OLD, and more interested in "senior" exercise. Point here, is that when we begin to do things like "think", or "read", "write", or exercise our "opinions"... there's probably a lot more to learn than simply a few minutes of idle exercise in those areas to achieve some degree of understanding and "mastery"... one DAMN broad word. Wonder whatever happened to Ol' Bruce... • Donovan Baldwin

I, fragile as friable rock, Reduced to powder, Carried away by Transparent water, Burned by the earth's Tongues of fire, Seeking beauty Within my limited Sphere of vision, As she, Object of my desire Dances, In serpentine seduction, In ancient ritualistic homage, To an abandoned harmony Which only She and I can hear. • Donovan Baldwin

"We cannot find the singer. We've searched and all agree. He's gone, his cloak on river bank His lyre beside a tree." One by one they nodded, said, "His recent songs were sad, But once they kept us dancing, Full of life, so warm and glad." They never knew the sorrow, That the singer bore within, The sad dreams that beset him, Not betrayed by happy grin. Year by year the darkness grew His Muse dimmed and went away, Light and color faded slowly Til he only saw in gray. Still he sang for other's gladness, As his happiness grew dim, Hastened by the knowledge, That no one sang for him. Then came the day the singer No longer could be found, Just his lyre beside a tree, His coat upon the ground. If you enjoy a singer's song, Accept it and be glad. Just remember that the singer's heart, Might within be weak and sad. One thing that may give happiness, To a soul that's growing dim, Is knowing that somewhere someone, May sing a song for him. • Donovan Baldwin