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

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

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

Perhaps, it is enough
To cope with the noise
Of one’s own random, undisciplined thoughts
Never mind the madness
Of others

For one
His own mountain
For one
His own stream
The peace
To wash over
The mind’s
Empty screams

Free my hand
Bound to this whip
Of my father's making
And if you must
Lop off the hand
To stop what it's been taking

Anxiety is a passing cloud
in a crowded sky
It does not live in painful truth
nor in a dreadful lie
It isn't yours
It isn't you
So, let it howl and bark
Just, gently sit beside it
and hold it in the dark

"Gather unto me
all that is mine"
They scream from the alleyways
and empty bottles of wine

If a man is not doing
what his deepest self likes
he might want to notice
who is driving
But, to get to that
deepest part of himself
it’s going to take
some deep diving

May we find the separation
between
our heart's heaven
and our mind's hell
and see it as
the light of things

We are born
as a feather
unburdened by the weight
of our primitive agonies
What our eyes will see
our minds will be unlikely to forget

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

All I have to be
Is a haunted human being
Gaunt with the shame
Of a lamentable past
Then looks thrown my way
From those I send fleeing
Frightened by ghosts
Freed again at long last

Sofie loves the sun
and now she’s having fun
thankful that Spring is near
and Winter’s nearly done
She skips out around the yard
rhyming like a bard
Her poems are like
these playful songs
to heal all the badly scarred

To see not light
but, only darkness
is to live in a world
under a dull and lifeless spell
A type of trance or sleep
where dreams are as black as night
and the soul is nothing other than
a fellow cave dweller

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

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

If all is quiet
in your life at the front
be thankful for a roof and a floor
But, get out the mops
before the other shoe drops
and water rushes through
every door

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

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

Sometimes I feel like a monster
Acting less like a man than beast
When the ugliest, unsightly part of me
Is the most of myself not the least

When a prayer
Seems more like a tired rant
Than an earnest plea

The raging storm dies
The sun brightens the day
And calm returns to the sea

Yearning like a dense forest of trees
that stretch toward the sun
we huddle together in pews
desperate in our hope
that we too can reach the light
that will save us from the darkness

I dropped my head the other day
and found myself
playing cards and tipping a beer
at a table in Miss Kitty’s saloon
I was waxing philosophical
about the life of a cowboy
living in the city of Dodge
when I was awakened by
these sirens from hell coming
from outside my window

The gift of modern living
is the gift that keeps on giving

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

Why can’t the hardest of hearts
Look into the eyes of a smiling child
And be rid of what keeps them
From being human again?

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

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

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

It’s too hot
to lie in the shade
Sit in front of a fan
or drink lemonade
It’s too hot
for suntan lotion
Take a dip in a pool
or jump in the ocean
It’s so hot
that my body is straining
to keep up with my shadow
and even it is complaining

At times the scene
of an emotional disaster
He is the dog beaten
by he the cruel master
He and his father
rolled up into one
Father long gone
but lives on in his son

Misty eyes are here
Missing all the cheer
The desperate stare
of cold despair
for reasons that aren’t clear
It’s supposed to be a time
of joy and peace of mind
But, if an answer lies
in those misty eyes
It’s just too hard to find
Misty eyes
Misty eyes
No matter how hard the tissue tries
It can't dry up
those misty eyes

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

Might our sharp tongues
be duller today
and words not tossed
to fall where they may
Might we be mindful
of the mouth's ugly ways
when goodwill is missing
from the things that we say

Evil deeds
Have never really changed
Most have served the same master
But, love can break
The tyrant’s chains
As it turns the heart ever faster

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

Why it always vexes me
I really cannot say
The birds, they tried to warn me
when they flew away
Warm memories of summer
Made known they’d rather stay
to help me with the stony cold
of a winter day

Oblivious
to their despair
it roams the house
without a care
It's in the clothes
and on the dishes
All against
their sincerest wishes
and as the kids
come through the door
the ******* plague
falls to the floor
This war on dirt
cannot be won
and the keeper's job
is never done

Winter may not be the best time
To look upon the trees
Some stand before us naked
Content if we don’t see

That they are less than beautiful
With their wardrobes gone
Hoping we do not notice
The need to put something on

It’s not like they’re embarrassed
Because they are asleep
So, be careful not to wake them
And for the moment, leave them be

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

A bad day
Is when I feel that
to save myself from turning to stone
is to avert my eyes
from the world’s head of snakes
A good day is when I don’t watch the news

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

I think
therefore I question
I question
therefore I anguish
I anguish
therefore I tremble
I tremble
At the the thought
of the answer

Grown to adults
and never left the crib
Addicted to consumption
and still wearing a bib
Drunk in the powerful
promise for more
Buying and selling
like a crack *****
Goods and services
Credit or cash
Salvation thrown out
with the next day’s trash

So beautiful was she
that to gaze upon her
was to be willing
to lay down life for her
as was her right
and the world’s privilege
The sight of her
could inspire the worst of cowards
to courageousness worthy of a knight
protecting his queen
If only to live a short time
happy in the moment
of such sacrifice

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

It doesn't matter
if the glass is half empty
or half full
because it's already broken

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?”

Set me afloat
on a slow moving river
Aboard an old raft
with Pop's rocking chair
I'd puff on my pipe
and rock on the water
waving goodbye
to the world's phantom cares

Help break this need
to be so busy
Pursuing self-worth
in such a tizzy
To know the value
of my birth
To be secure
in my own worth
To help myself
To do my best
To stop
To sleep
To truly rest

The suffering of the father
Is passed on to the son
It's the work of generations
That is, sadly, never done

Surely, there’s a better way
than fearing death
yet not fond of living
They wished they knew enough to say
whose metered breath
may speak of giving
life to those
who are all but dead
eulogies written
and all but said

Once on their knees they began to pray
“Surely God, someone knows the way”