Can a shadow
be seen in the darkness?
Is a tear felt
in the sea?
Is there a sound
when no one’s around
or does a tree
fall in secrecy?

Say goodbye
to the days of summer
as we ponder Autumn’s waking
It’s warm memories
fall from the trees
forgotten until Spring’s remaking

Back in the days
of puppies and kittens
When my pages were full
Of stories unwritten
I’d begin each day
with my very best friend
chasing the sun
until the day’s end
But, as time wears on
and I get older
As I slow down
and the wind grows colder
I always remember
What I had been told
“You’re a short time young
and a long time old”

Love is that random act of kindness
that we think we don’t have the time for

Music is a language
spoken by so few
yet, inspires so many
To be not deaf
and not hear it
would be a cruel twist
of irony

Fall reminds me of the evening
It flows into the Winter's night
Springtime is tomorrow's dawning
of the Summer's enduring light
A year, a day
Who's to say
how much time
we have to play
and revel in each season's sweet delight

How can we awaken
without crying
How can we question
without tears
How do we answer
without lying
How do we laugh
without fear

I have an applecart
It's contents are just so
Everything has it's place
Everything a row
I know too well
that if I let
the applecart
get too upset
I'll change into a man
I do not know

Take my face
into your hands
and tell me
that you love me
Though a reason
for each grain of sand
exists for you to spurn me

The anxious face
sketches like a mothman
with two fiery red eyes
amidst a flurry of large violent lines of black ink
that look more like the claw marks
of an animal
desperate for escape

From 3 o’clock till
half past 4
is when the monster
is at your door
If you are careless
And let him in
that’s when the nightmare
will begin
He’ll shave your head
to leave it bare
and he will be back
to enter there
Then you will know
there’s no such thing
as a harmless dream

Imagine lying
in a lush green field
cradled within an ancient glen
Timeless is
the still life portrait
of what the gods
were like back then

Men who really don’t want peace
want only a respite from war
Adrift on high seas
and without the disease
are those who won’t come ashore

On the inside
of the window pane
I hear the tapping
of a summer rain
It cools the fire
of the noonday sun
And all is still
until it’s done

Ah, to feel the stir of passion
And then be burned by it
Better than enduring
the slow suffocation of apathy

Lying in the driveway
sleeping in the rain
a man melting before my eyes
and leaving such a stain
"Just a dream" I tell myself
and forget about what it means
But, the next day in the driveway
the bluish tint of jeans

I have an eye
for sunsets in the sky
A feeling for a breeze
that rustles through the trees
An ear for the tears
falling from a rain
and the silence on a casual stroll
down a country lane

May the sun
be the face of god
and all it’s light his robe
as he takes
a morning stroll
across this sleepy globe

Sometimes we have
the brains of a sparrow
with neural pathways
so small and narrow
When the black and the white of things
stand next to each other
we either can't
or won't be bothered
to see the shades of gray
because it's just easier that way

Wise man say
the worth of a day
and the serene of between
it's highs and lows
lies not in what one does
for oneself
but, lies in what one
does for others

Anger is at the root
of all that upends them
It is the very marrow
of their frustrated despair
Armed against a world
that cannot befriend them
Only because
it doesn't know that they're there

After the grueling anger match
between God, the world, and I
I offer this lame explanation
before I begin to sigh
"God, I have to tell you
before you show me the door
I haven't blamed you for anything
that I haven't whipped myself for"

The world cares not
how much of it's weight
you are willing to carry

How sad we are
that the good of living
is when the bad
doesn’t know that we’re there
We fly under the radar
in hopes that if spotted
the evil won’t even care

Fear and Rage
Brother to brother
Whenever they awaken
One says to the other
What kind of suffering
can we cause today?
That’s when one hears
the other one say
I just love the smell of ******
in the morning

There’s an old salty ******
at the back of a ship
that’s sinking into the sea
I can hear the words
from his stiff upper lip
as he sadly recites to me
You can’t save me
You can’t save me
So, turn your eyes away
I will sleep
In the cold, dark deep
and you will see another day

I should like
to wear the shades
the tans and grays
of winter days

Quietly sit
in stone cold silence
to render calm
this inner violence

To molt the skin
of what I'm feeling
To know the floor
from the ceiling

Not begrudge
my heart's abiding
Learn to face
in me what's hiding

Maybe it’s those
closed pores in your heart
you are mistaking
for a few slivers of light
from God

Silly hearts
****** toons
and goofballs
make light of all that is heavy
for us
and won't leave
a bucket of tears
without a barrel full of laughs
for balance

Delusion was that place in my heart
that I sometimes mistook for the truth
But, as I get older
I begin to miss
that place where I spent
much of my youth

Nothing seems
so heavy
to a fragile heart
so broken
than thoughts
so unhappy
they go
so unspoken

It's easy for me
to love folly in a child
with a heart so pure, innocent,
and wild

And while the puppeteer sleeps
How divine the dream
that frees the marionette to dance

This thing that comes to me in waves
washes over my face
like a hard rain
My heart is a stream of tears
that drains down my sleeve
and into a hole left by the piece of me
that is now missing
I feel no shame in crying
All I feel is loss

To lighten the load
of too solemn a day
blow kisses with laughter
to chase it away
And if the blues
don’t want to stay
then it ain’t no more
than heaven

I have to distract Charlie
Distract him with laughter and song
Occupy his mood
with whimsical thoughts
Before it all goes wrong
I know I can never leave Charlie
alone with himself for too long
‘Cause that’s when the beast
gets out of its cage
and that’s where it really belongs

How pale the days
without love
No color to their memories
and tomorrow but a sketch
of a painting not yet started

The thorn
is unpleasant
but can be a mentor
Pain
a reminder
of what it is there for
How long the student
to become the master?
Pity these lessons
can't be learned any faster

Gently the morning light
meets my sleepy eyes
It softly taps my shoulder
Like a mother’s plea to rise
The world it seems to be rather harsh
for it’s always asking when
I’ll get up to earn my way
back to bed again

You would rather your heart
ten times broken
than suffer the torture of gloom
Blank faces in mirrors
hang on dark inner walls
that won't let you leave the room

Sadness won’t deny the truth of feeling
But allows for tears to be tasted
and to know the truth of healing
is that the tears are never wasted

Addiction is the chili
we put in our eyes
to make us to forget
about the splinters
in our feet
If only we were more like elephants

Surely, the sun must revolve
around those who believe
that the attention of but one pair of eyes
must mean that the whole world is watching
No need of Copernicus to explain
this self-perceived celestial law:
One solar system
One person at its center
reality is not welcome
and it may not enter

Wake up
in the cold rain
of a dark alley
to feel the desperate
nature of existence

To observe the soothing grace
of trees slowly swaying in the wind
Is to release myself
From the stressful pace of the day
and breathe the freedom
of the present moment

It answers not in laughter
It answers not in tears
It answers not my questions
this world that cannot hear

Assuming that mere words
could be something other than
feeble expressions of the truth
we call a person honest
at the sheer surprise
that he does not lie

From on top of the world
to down on one's knees
Love is the cure
for its own disease

Wise man say:

Enjoy today
for tomorrow always comes

It take much work
to be crazy *******

Miserable people
save all gratitude
for death bed

All world's evil
found in one baby's
lumpy diaper

How much of the truth
must be missing
before everyone sees it's a lie
A tattered "Old Glory"
will come with the story
of how we let it all die