Adults are but older children
Who have outgrown their parents
In search of better supervision

What makes a man
Into a Genghis Khan
And regress into his terrible twos?
It’s not enough
That he should win
Everyone else must lose

There are many
poets it seems
that tell the story
of shattered dreams
We have to listen
to what they say
because the pain
won't go away

There’s a part of myself
That nervously watches
As I stare into space
Slowly banging a drum

And just like a ******
I batton down hatches
To prepare for the storm
That’s so unlikely to come

The irony is
that the fear of death
gives rise to the fear of living
Meeting uncertainty
with an unshakable faith
is the gift that keeps on giving

Tightly bound to folly are we
In as many ways
as there are human fears and desires
And sooner or later
all we want in this world
is to be free

In a white room
on a white wall
there hangs a still-life of flowers
Although it seems
all but a dream
it's message of peace
has great power

When that big dark cloud
floats above your head
standing like a vulture
over unclaimed dead
When it casts it's long shadow
And troubles your sky
Insist that it move
to let the sun by

Where my world
meets their world
I caught a glimpse today
A precious scene
of does and fawns
and the fawns had come to play
Behind my kitchen window
I dared not make a sound
But then, I think they noticed me
and were gone in leaps and bounds

Yesterday’s regret
And the dread of tomorrow
Have played their parts well
In this rendition of sorrow

Curse this hat upon my head
For it can’t keep the sun at bay
It won’t shield my eyes
From all the bugs that fly
And so many come my way
**** all the goo in my hands
I think that I would understand
If the boss man could not stand
My act for another day

It feels I've been awake since forever
Lying here bartering for my share of some sleep
I don't know when
I'll be dreaming again
or how many the Sandman
will take of my sheep

Waking up to greet the day
in hopes the blues
have moved away
And if they're gone
then who's to say
that it ain't no more than Heaven
If he can't feel
the other shoe drop
or the world come to a stop
he won't have to cry
and get a mop
to clean up tears in Heaven
Heaven
No more than Heaven
Life's as good as only one believes
But, for what's it's worth
he thinks that while on earth
it's difficult to get the blues to leave

So many rain clouds
One for each parade
Marching down
the streets of town
where smiles are unmade

As I stand in the nourishing light
of midday
I drink in the sun
and bask in it’s warmth
with gratitude

I was told
that we weren't meant
to live in fear
of dying
We evaporate
into the wind
like water from sheets
that are drying
We float on clouds
in bleached-white gowns
waving to our former towns
Going where we won't wear frowns
or ever feel like
crying

Sometimes I feel like an idiot
In search of a village
and can’t get offered the job

Beware of the employment of hate
For there is no target
unworthy of it's attention
and it abides by no rules
of common decency or sense

On the wings of seagulls
rides the ocean air he breathes
He shuts his eyes
and in his mind
he's once again
at sea

Fear stares at an open grave
And yearns for home

There was a time
When he dwelled
In the spacious house
That was once her heart
And now there is not
One small room left
For him to occupy

Better dead
than disillusioned
wishing so desperately
for light to get in
Forever cursing
the comfort of darkness
Dare speak the devil
who is tired of sin

Color my mood
A melancholy blue
The bill for it’s absence
Is now again due
May the power of its pain
Produce enough rain
To wash me so cleanly
Of it’s signature hue

Cry in the rain
And the world cries with you

He loves the girl
Dancing in the silhouette
He wants to be with her alone
Though they've never met

The outline of her shapely thighs
Casting spells and telling lies
He wants to talk to her
But, he's so shy
He tries to make a move
But, he's so petrified

He loves the girl
In the sihouette
Strangers in the night
Who have never met

A thought
for a bleak and dreary day
When darkness comes
and wants to play
A glimpse of people
hand in hand
Linking smiles
across the land
A string of lights
wrapped around the world

Like a Christmas tree

The glass half-full
is happiness that is
permitted
in the absence of misery

There’s a special cell
For me in hell
For all my considerable blasphemy
And you may find it odd
That I have talked to God
And he told me that
I may need a lobotomy

I  have died
many deaths
and labored through
many shallow breaths
Dreading so, what I might face
If I peered into the space
between the frames
of my mind's worst horror movie

Marriage is an emulsion
Of love and truth
Not a solution

They come to you
At night with lies
To feast on shallow
Breaths and sighs
May God heed
Your prayers with speed
And soothe the child’s
Bewildered cries

One lonely cornstalk
in a dying field
surrounded by casualties
but, this one will not yield

The sun that was so good to them
had turned into a foe
the draught had taken most of them
but, this one will not go

One stubborn stalk of corn
standing all alone
" you live on
when all are gone”
the farmer sadly moaned

Easy to be smitten
by a puppy and a kitten
Hard to turn away
when both are at play
For it’s not once
but twice we are bitten

Music from the piano
on a rainy day
A note for all the raindrops
and each thought of my dismay

Music from the piano
lightens up the gray
I rely upon my friend
to drive the blues away

As I watch two leaves
twirl in the wind
I name one Hans
and the other Gwen
From the top of the tree
to the bottom below
where one leads
the other must go
The ground breaks the fall
and then the romance
Alas my friends
it's the end of the dance

Compassion is the thread
that runs through most people
to let them know that we are all
cut from the same cloth

If you feel the earth breathing
through the ocean's briny tide
Sense a mountain watching
as you walk along it's side
Color the forest canopy
as it migrates through the seasons
Marvel at Nature's tantrums
and the mystery of her reasons
Float upon a silent stream
as it meanders through your soul
You know that there's no part of you
that is greater than the whole

Are we but homeless, threadbare waifs
yearning for our mothers
Searching for love
with a primordial hunger
in the darkness of "existential horror"?

Look at how they walk the street
with heavy hearts of stone
Victims of an unhappiness
that has crept into their bones

Now they step with a crooked gait
and usually alone
the sounds they make
are but life's complaints
disguised as grunts and groans

Many an unfinished project
began with the impractical
pursuit of perfection

Where is it?
That warm loving sun
to dry the tears
on the face of one
whose only sin
was daring to be happy

I want that picture
That picture of a young boy
standing proudly next to his father
That picture I lean on
when the world weighs heavy
That picture that when I'm confused
begs the question:
"What would Dad do?"
I want that picture
and yet I do not have it
and his death only serves to remind me
that I never will

I ache for the warmth
of a midsummer day
and the slow rocking rhythm
of a hammock's sway
All Winter's gloom
on clouds far away
and if left up to me
that's where it would stay

Wise man say
It is much easier
To practice acceptance
Of the world’s imperfection
Within the silence of meditation

There’s a stone cold figure
At the edge of the river
Helping poor souls get aboard
His hell-bound ferry
Takes all it can carry
Down to the Black Bottom Gorge


Oh Black Bottom
Oh Black Bottom
Don’t you fret none
Cause I done got ‘em
The ferryman softly sings


If they don’t know by now
Why they’re here or how
They ain’t never gonna
Learn a **** thing

If I could only
Ignore the ego long enough
To listen to the voice of reason
I could stare into the yellow of the flame
And know that which seems to elude me

I can fancy myself a painter
Standing where the sea meets the shore
With my feet in the sand
and a brush in my hand
the canvas as an open door

to an ocean of abandoned dreams

These bullies
Of pragmatic reality
Mean to be the death
of all dreams
For they will not rest
Until they’ve done their best
To destroy that which glitters and gleams

I see blue trees
in orange skies
Papered houses
and country sides
Yellow breezes
from shores nearby
Pushing silver crests
on purple tides
A world imbued
with brilliant dyes
Gazing into
her kaleidoscope eyes

Science is not the enemy
of centuries of absurd religion
And in the end
it will become it's friend
but not without evolution
or revolution