I sincerely wish
I could blame the flesh
for the weakness of my mind
and in the end
I can depend
on the judgement to be so kind

Sometimes
I look at travel photos
And recognize myself in places
I know I have never been

Within the time-worn walls
Of an old European village
I hear strange but wonderful music
over the cacophony of conversation

I see myself in a cafe
Engaged in a debate about
Art, politics, or the contents of my glass
And I am again reminded
That man does not live by bread alone

There are those whose passions
Are never stirred more
Than through talk of ideology,
Religion , and war
They draw lines in the sand
And declare for their land
That transgressors be met
With the edge of a sword


They eat at the same table
Drink from the same trough
Shout out all the slogans
Wear the same cloth
They stand strong and tall
Behind a thick wall
Claiming God as their ally
Through the foam and the froth

Their numbers are many
These beggars of men
Ignoring compassion and reason
Again and again
Pray they drop their knees down
and abandon their frowns
Allowing God in their hearts
Where the devil has been

Tiny blue ballerina
Dancing in a storm
Chaos all about her
As she tries to hold her form
The dreary sets seem out of place
And the music isn't right
The cellos have been fighting
With flutes all blasted night
Remember tiny dancer
You are following your bliss
So, take that ever graceful bow
And blow the audience a kiss

It was through
But a single reed
That I held up in my hand

My eyes took aim
At the winter sky
As I walked through chilly sand

And for a time
I felt as though
The sun was smiling at me

It lit my way
The rest of the day
Before it hid behind the sea

Alone amidst the hurried throngs
That move along a street
He’s the statue in a crowded square
Who chose to still his feet
Hoping for a cathartic tear
To mend his fear and pity
He watches all the desperate dots
Looking for the ‘I’ in city

From the crushing tears pressed upon her bed
To drifting among the clouds
She heard it first inside her head
Then whispered the words aloud
Don’t you cry
Sweet butterfly
Soon enough you will be free
For life is but a moment
Compared to eternity

Be mindful of nostalgia trips
And recollection of past years
Step lightly down old memory lane
Or it may produce some tears

For every triumph in one’s life
There are bound to be regrets
So, remember all the good times
And hope the rest you can forget

Whenever it’s dark and gray
On a winter’s rainy day
Content for a single ray
Deep into the month of May
Shine baby shine
Shine baby shine
Tell me the line
That will make you mine

From behind a window pane
I watch the relentless rain
I’m suffering from the pain
Of a broken water main
Shine baby shine
Shine baby shine
Will you be so kind
To put this gloom behind?

Fancy the bare tree of January
As the Sorcerer’s magic brush
There to paint a Winter’s gray sketch
As a fresh and vibrant landscape of Spring

Whisper what you want of me
How much longer can I wait?
My hearing really is quite good
Though I don't always see so straight
I sit beneath a starry night
Listening for a sign
But alas
More hours pass
Seem like a waste of time
Whisper what you want of me
I grow tired of the wait
I want to know the secret
Before it is too late
Whisper what you want of me
For I do not see
If the question is aimed above
Or is it aimed at me

I sincerely wish
I could blame the flesh
for the weakness of my mind
and in the end
I could depend
on my Judge to be so kind

Sometimes Inside
I feel oceans
inspired
by the breath of the sea
From atop a great hill
my heart and lungs fill
with a spirited hunger to be

Sometimes Inside
I feel valleys
lined with sheets of parched sand
Where dry eyes can’t cry
for dreams that have died
and hope is lost once again

There’s a little white church
in Barcelona
Not far from the lighthouse
overlooking the bay
It’s where I spent
my Bible school summers
and sometimes Christmas
in a Sunday school play

We'd walk to the smoke house
down on the shore
Savor some soft ice cream
from a nearby stand
Run out on the breakwall
that sat in the harbor
Greet the fine sailboats
with a wave of the hand

There’s little so dear
to my precious memories
than this cozy warm village
of my childhood days
Where everyone gathered
for dinner at grandma’s
Can someone please pass
the potatoes this way?

Thou shall not ****
Until enemies prove worthy
The satisfaction of our lustful revenge
May we be ever watchful
Of all who would stain our honor
So as to punish with impunity
And in the aftermath of such exactment
Recall that tiny place in the heart
That carries the forgiveness of Jesus
And be then ashamed

Tis my brother's memory locked
From what he does not tell
He walks along his wall alone
To guard his private hell

Tis my brother's soul so scorched
At times his mood morose
It's when his demon's flames are freed
So, I do not stand so close

Tis my brother's fate to suffer
And this is what I fear
I have nothing else to offer
But a sympathetic ear

There will be no smiles today
There will be no laughter
There will be no acts of love
or the moments after
There will be no celebration
There will be no glee
Only thoughts of those I've lost
and what they meant to me

As I find myself standing
at the foot of this hole
A ***** in my hand
A little angst in my soul
I ask the same question
Again and again
Do I dig the hole deeper
of do I fill it in?

Truth is truth
until proven rotten
Lies are lies
But seem never forgotten

It is both eerie and sad to sit
in this dark room
listening to the tuning
of his instruments
For they now lie abandoned
in a forgotten corner
along with his dreams
that rose in the steam
of yesterday’s morning coffee
Now are the casualties from battles of dysfunction
long dead but not forgotten

I would like to hear again
From my brother’s violin
And see the world
As not the sin
That took it all
Away from him

Much of I know is *******
I hope that that little of what I do not know
Is not

Sometimes, we can be such geniuses
Caught in the lies
Of what we think we know
It's just part of the show
Trading truth
For a clever disguise

Poor Dog
lying in the road
there must have been
no place to go
My friend
you must have known
this was no place for you

In a car
rushing by
I'm the one
who's sick inside
no matter how you died
there was nothing I could do

Old dog
I'll say a prayer
as you lie sleeping there
Find a place in my despair
and haunt my whole day through

I want to go….
Where I can render harmless
The aftershocks of a quaking world

Where I can sweat in warm night air
Filled with a late summer’s peace
Ride on mattresses made of puffy white clouds
That slowly float past a bright harvest moon

Where I can pleasantly reel in the past
Smile at the younger version of myself
and forgive

Back to dreamland
Again I fell
Now I feel
Like *******
Why did I
Not stay awake
And face the day
For my own sake
Now I can’t
Lift my head
Or peel myself
Off this bed
I must stop
This sleep and slumber
Or my room
Will fill with lumber!

As I stand beneath
this beautiful tree
I ask it's limbs
to hug me tender
and raise me up
so that I may see
the color of Autumn
in all it's splendor

One day I rose
from where I was sitting
to embrace the world's love
as if it befitting
then fast lowered myself
at the lack of humility
and shuddered for days
at the responsibility

As I step through
a small patch of woods
this fine morning
I feel the cold breath
of Winter on my neck
I catch a glimpse
of a rabbit's white tail
bobbing in and out of my sight
It's Thanksgiving
and this moment of near silence
is not lost on me
As I head back
I pretend to be a woodsman
following the last of Autumn's
long shadows
to a warm house
that will soon fill of family and friends
and I am grateful for it

Lady bug Lady bug
My, you are so small
Yet, you cast a shadow
Upon my kitchen wall
It makes me think my frame of mind
Can sometimes be so shallow
And that is when I’m wee enough
To fit inside that shadow
Lady bug Lady bug
What if you should fall
Where am I to go
When I do not stand so tall?

How are these colors of Autumn
possibly described by words?
It is like God speaking to us
through a prism of light
unique to the day
A special painting
that like a footprint in the sand
is erased by an evening tide
but never in our imaginations or our memories

The temptation to look again
Is too much to resist
I can’t hide the disappointment
As the ugly truth persists

The little hand won’t cooperate
And the big hand is even worse
Yet, I remain a clock watcher
And some days it’s such a curse

I’m aware of all devices
Designed to show me time
And not a one can return to me
What I thought was mine

Maybe I can convince some folks
Get everyone to agree
To set the big hand back each day
So I may enjoy my tea!

Time waits for no one

No matter the misery one keeps

So, wake up if you dare

From unavailing despair

For the keeper cares not if you sleep

Winter follows
The long bow of a cello
And all in it’s realm
Must play to it’s tempo
As the last of the leaves
Fall to the ground
And trees must wear
This season’s white gown
All God’s creatures
Ready for sleep
And the peace of their slumber
Is the cello’s to keep

He looked upon
These shells of men
Upon the cobblestone
Again
It sadly touched
His heart to know
This colleague had no
Place to go
And took such comfort
From a flask
There was no notice
Of what was asked
“**** the poison
Inside thy head!
Be thee alive?
Or be thee dead?”

Grunts, groans
whimpers and moans
shakes, shivers, and barks
leaps of glee
at the chance to ***
on every pole in the park!

The pedals for me
A seat for you
On a bicycle
Not built for two

The wind at our backs
Pushing the load
Free us to coast
Down a country road

Pick one for you
And one for me
After we stop
By an apple tree

Spin round and round
In a field of rye
Bask in the sun
'Neath a blue sky

After a day
That ends too soon
We'll race across
The face of the moon

You are the hand
I am the glove
This the dance
The dance of love

For as long as it lasts
The dance of love

Acts of kindness
and generosity
are often cloaked
in anonymity

In the shadow of fear
May my strength of heart
Not let death’s foul breath
Keep me apart
From the hope of my passing
That I go unharmed
To the loving hospitality
Of God’s open arms

Crows in a wheat field
Just before a storm
Bearing dark omens
Of the future yet to come
They came to me in mourning
Inside my dreams at night
Before too long Pop took ill
And chased God into the light
Crows in a wheat field
Soaking in the rain
Waiting for my head to nod
And for me to sleep again

My heart to those
who so love a rose
They wither along side
it's mortal repose
But, there should be no mourning
it's angelic face
For a divine likeness
will bloom in it's place

As I walk through the forest
of my dark and cluttered mind
I leave a trail of bread crumbs
in order to help me find
my way below the canopy
of all that makes the night
I pray I find the morning
and all its familiar sights

If only for a day
I could be a leaf
a leaf that rides an Autumn wind
from a orange colored tree top
to a meandering stream of a Fall-bitten mountain side
adrift and yet content
with the random nature of the world

If God watches this weary world
through the eyes of birds
Are their heads bowed
in the rain
of his unspoken words?

I float on a sea
of indigestible unease
riding the quells
of a roller coaster in hell
making deals with the fears
I cannot appease

Pink lilies in the tarns
Wave like satin in the wind
Veils to an underworld
Where secrets lie within

Smooth and silky ******* of sand
Amidst the ancient rock
Cast shadows in the valley
Neath the ice cream mountain top

Water hangs like bath towels
From the mountain’s misty eyes
Silhouettes of caribou
Dance across the dusky skies

Atop a celestial carousel
Sits a twinkling evening star
No need for idle wishes here
Dreams are good the way they are

Nestled in a blanket of pristine snow-covered countryside
an old barn in winter
A crow sits atop it's white ragged roof

Amidst the vast and blinding silence
that surrounds this frozen remnant of an era gone by
a reminder
that very little happens here now

It's an aging but graceful beauty
Standing proud as though untouched
by time
and an ever-changing modern world

I make faces
At my cat
And she doesn’t know
What to think of that
I stick out my tongue
And wave my hands
And I don’t think
She understands
I do a little dance
And sing a song
But, she’s too stubborn
To play along
She just winks at me
And turns her head
I think I’ll try
The dog instead

May we all be spared
the lens of poets
for ignorance is bliss
and only they truly know it

May I never be so old
That I can’t lie on a floor
Or become so set in my ways
That thinking makes me sore!

May I not be so dismayed
By what I can’t do anymore
And be mindful of what I can do
That I could not do before

May I laugh at the bitter cold
Even when it seems a chore
Appreciate the green of Spring
Isn’t that what Winter’s for?

May I season my old age
With a some pepper and some sage
And hope my conversation
Is not a dreadful bore

Sandman
Be his friend this night
Keep them away until first light

Spare him the nightmare
The brink of his waking
The sweat of his body
It’s tireless quaking

Mommy and Daddy
Throw him under that train
Leave him in sheets
Stiff in dried stains

Why won’t they leave him
Alone in his bed
Or, at least, show some mercy
And send monsters instead