There is this winning strength
in those humble, intelligent, and compassionate people
who know all too well
the bent of human weakness
and yet, do not let it
betray their basic decency

He thought he was
a child of nature
Loving all creatures
you see
He couldn’t believe
what had just occurred
“How could this happen to me?”

As he sat in the road
all ******
talking to the EMT
he suspected
it was a woodpecker
that had mistaken his head
for a tree!

Time can take
the bloom from your rose
the spring from your toes
turn your poetry
to a vapid prose
To be unhappy
is such a waste of it
so shed your grave clothes
and make haste of it
because time
truly waits for no one

The songs of birds
The morning mist
The cool, wet air
gently kissed
by the breaking sun
Before losers lose
and winners win
Before all the madness
can begin
the battle for the day
is all but won

Unhappy
are those
who mean to collect debts
from those
not indebted to pay
It’s an odd little game
that nobody wins
yet, people
seem willing to play.

Beware of the man
with the sharpened wit
He be a swordsmen in disguise
Using the air in his lungs
he duels with his tongue
splitting damnable truths
between lies

Oh sometimes
how the grateful mistake
scratches the itch
of self-loathing