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

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

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?

In a very big house
on a hill made of money
Rising to the sky
from the ground
An overweight man
Fat from ill-gotten gains
picked from all the pockets
in town

Let's take a drive
up to the mountains
where no one can find us
at least for the day

Rest in the arms
of slumbering giants
'til a breeze
from the trees
softly asks us to stay

There was this dream
of the trouble he would see
in death
as he had seen in life

But the sight of his ghost
disturbed him the most
as it hacked
at its chains
with a knife

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

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

Hang your troubles
on the Tree of Sorrows
Look for ones
to steal or borrow
Then step around
the tree again
grateful
that another’s pain

is not your own

Always in the back
of things
Behind a curtain
A shadow
A silhouette
Never blowing a horn
There was no horn to blow
no air in the lungs
no will in the legs
to play and march
in a parade

Wind blows
through the carcass
of an old ship run ashore
It beckons her ghosts
to board once more
She's sad
and she's lonely
in a harbor of sand
and her decks need the company
of those old scurvy hands

There is no strength in cruelty
It is an ugliness with only weakness
as it’s base
An unsightly reflection
of damaged people causing more harm in defense of their open wounds

In a field
Of senoritas
Dancing in the sun
I saw their smiles
Among the sunflowers
Before their dance was done

Sometimes I feel the Reaper
Winking at me
He wants to come over
For a chat and some tea
He’ll tell me that I am nothing
But an echo from the past
My future behind me
That I’m fading fast
He’ll score some very clever points
To weaken my resolve
Then sincerely assure me
There’s no problem he can’t solve
But like my neighbor’s crazy dog
Who barks up an empty tree
He and I
Won’t see eye to eye
And he may not enjoy his tea

There are some mornings
upon my awakening
A new day’s been granted
and it’s there for the taking
I assemble myself
from bad parts off the shelf
My house of cards stands
but not without shaking

When I wake I wonder
What the day will bring
Will my heart run silent
Or will it choose to sing
Will I sense the tragic death
Of yet another day
Or feel enough true gratitude
To kneel to God and pray
Will I find the joie de vivre
To take life as it goes
Or see my reflection frowning
At the world and all its woes

Full of liquor and beer
The man in the mirror
Spoke to the other
At the shed of a tear

“Selfish deeds
For empty needs
Perhaps are why
Hearts ache and bleed”

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

A violin
for a single flower
Cellos for all
the gray barren trees
An orchestra
and it’s infinite power
for an ‘Ode to Joy’
to set the world at ease

Criticism of oneself
Is often the harshest
Do unto you
As you would have others
Do unto you

Father, tie a ribbon
To an old oak tree
That will let me know
You’re still waiting for me
Don’t let the ugly past
Turn your love away
Please don’t forsake me
Because I went astray

If you choose to take a turn
Down that old oak lane
Find a branch that you can reach
Absolve me from the pain
Of regretful memories
And so much that has passed
Let me trade them for a ribbon
So I can come home at last

How dull the instrument of alcohol
In service of emotional pain
For come the dawn
the effect is gone
and the wolf is at the door again

If Yesterday
be scarred by bad memories
and Tomorrow
possessed by dark dreams
They both have the power and influence
to make Today
come apart at the seams

Put a little faith
In your ballast each day
Your sailing should be smoother
Though your boat may still sway
Calmly observe
The lesser losses and gains
It may help you weather
Greater stresses and strains
Most storms don’t have the power
To wash you away
Pray for all in this world
And let come what may

Many an unfinished project
began with the impractical
pursuit of perfection

“I have to look for your father”
We’d hear our poor mother say
When he had little fear
Standing on the great pier
During a storm on the bay

When father had the Black Irish
We’d hear our poor mother pray
"God, keep him off the **** pier"
When bad weather is near
So the sea can’t wash him away

The burden of rapture
all swollen in sadness
is love that’s a fever
that descends into madness
Yet, this perfect poison
is gladly taken
like a classic martini
Stirred but not shaken

I think my cat
is big and fat
She doesn’t listen to me
So, I call her that
When she meows
I just have to grin
She didn’t sound like that
when she was thin
She will walk the hall
and take all day
That’s when I ask her
“ How much do you weigh?”
She’s getting older
but, not any thinner
I guess she could do
with a little less dinner

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

I'm unarmed man
dancing in the street
to the tune of a gun
fired at my feet
I cannot stop moving
for if I do
I'll see my pride leaking
from a ****** shoe

How ironic the insight
that my mind
spends much of it’s time
blind
to the reality that it is
stuck in the head
which is stuck up the ***
of a blundering fool

“I have to look for your father”
we’d hear our poor mother say
for he had little fear
standing on the great pier
during a storm on the bay

When father had the Black Irish
we’d hear hear our poor mother pray
“Keep him off that **** pier”
when bad weather was near
so the sea couldn’t wash him away

A young monk
eager to show his peers
the depth of his devotion
embarks on a long fast
After 12 days
he believes he has proven
worthy of respect
but, he finds no acknowledgement of his act
Discouraged, he goes to the abbot to tell him his tale of woe
After a long silence the abbot speaks
“Is it sacrifice for the good
of one’s soul
when no food is taken
from a full bowl?
Or is it martyrdom
thick with need
wrongly mistaken
for a sanctified deed?”

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

... and hidden from the world
     where most cannot see
     a boiling cauldron of madness
     the trouble that is me

      when the dark times come
       I seethe at light's absence
       then rage at God
       for his apparent indifference....

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

Blessed are the butterflies
that brighten ugly walls
They bring a little sunshine
to where there’s none at all
The flutter of their spacious wings
chase the clouds away
that prey upon the innocence
of an unsuspecting day

He walked the hill into the evening
until he reached the top
The moon was serenading him
so he took the time to stop
to look upon a lonesome tree
that had not been there before
Neath the light
of a starry night
like the painting
he so adored
He whispered a tiny heartfelt prayer
for those in town below
that had likely lived their lives
never having seen the show

Go to sleep my friend
Your day's at an end
No use in re-living it
again and again

Gather up all your troubles
and pack them away
Leave them high on a shelf
for some other day

Who are you actor?
Who are you really?
Indeed, you perform well
Yet, the question’s not silly

When the smile of a clown
Thinly veils a deep frown
Its disturbing façade
Makes the blood run chilly

I see a little boat
in a harbor
waiting to set sail
for the sea
It floats as prisoner
tied to the docks
waiting for it's chance to be free

But I have no view
of a harbor
and I do not live
by the sea
Yet, I'm haunted by visions
of this sad little boat
I sense it has a message for me

Does it want us
to sail off together
and throw caution to the wind for the day?
Is it enough of a boat
to keep us a float
or will we sink to the bottom of the bay?

The span of time
to the present from birth
can be measured in a particle
of light sent to the earth
Life passes quickly
like the blink of an eye
that cannot stare long
at the sun in the sky

How difficult the lives
of those who spend
much of adulthood
searching for the parts of themselves
lost in an embattled childhood
and once found
assembling those jig-sawed pieces
into what was thought never to be whole

Sometimes it seems to me
that the world walks
with a big limp of hypocrisy

The grandfather clock
in my grandmother’s house
stood silent in a corner all day
But, sometimes at night
it would grow in height
and I’d run before it had something to say

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

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

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

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

The azure blue
of an infinite sky
is dotted with soft white pillows
The cool, clear water
of meandering streams
runs amidst the oaks and willows
These fields of dreams
that sway in the wind
are painted with a tint of gold
They wave at me
as I go by
for me alone to behold
God is at work
God is at work
Don’t wake me up
It’s God at work