They left to
defend your honor
They left to
defend your shrine
The false promise
of your heaven
In their juvenile minds
Armed with evil
heavier than
their own weight
God,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

They left to
defend our mothers
They left to
defend our wives
The passion burns
in their blood
To protect the last child
Shouldered with
the burden that
the uniform dictates
Minister,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

There is a strange
turbulence in the air
The wind reeks
of wanton violence
I feel the same rage,
I feel the same pain
I yearn for peace
and risk your hate
With your answer
my mind might change
So,
Tell me why the snow is red
Tell me why my brothers are dead

613 200 Hours
25 550 Days
13 Cars
11 Jobs
9 Dogs
6 Surgeries
5 Children
4 Grandchildren
3 Marriages
2 Siblings
1 Weary soul.
No regrets.

Early in the morning,
Laying in bed,
light washing over me,
thoughts floating in my head.

Wondering what it’d be like,
Doubt seeps like morning glow.
What could I say to him?
What might he never know?

- Lost in Translation

I found something not from here
outside a home, sitting alone
a hard body, smooth surface
shaped perhaps, by forces severe
a volcano, a glacier.

I picked it up for a while
heard its tale, a lively life
...
you look old, spent and done
are you just resting here,
or have you retired?

We spoke some more, shared our woes
till twas time to let it go
in a private spot, by the lake
open skies, no one in sight.

A song
my eyes, your face.
an evening, mellowed down.
my arms around your neck
your hands tickling on my waist.
worn out t-shirt and old nightdress.

A perfect date.