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

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

How fitting the dog
ignores the one who mocks him
How telling
that it amuses me so

Why do we have
these crosses to bear?
Do our woes not fit us
like the clothes
that we wear?
We often ask God
"Could it be
I can’t see?”
and then the epiphany
It might just be me

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

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

There are those
who don’t dread death
or fear what could be
their last breath
Cherish moments
that befriend the present
Live like kings
and not like peasants

What is solely for my eyes to see
My ears to hear
My soul to breathe
It is the sweet inspiration
of what can be the only true rival
of air itself
It is you

Though bad times
can crawl like a tortoise
and good times
race like a hare
Indifference will always
run last in a race
when there’s no motive
or reason to care

When the ingratitude
of never having enough
breeds feelings of defeat
when life’s not that tough
Come cries of self-pity
that aren’t all that pretty
because our shots off the tee
land in the rough

If there is but one hour
of lighthearted ease
And within that hour
a moment's peace
How do I think ill of the day
and dismiss myself
from among the grateful?

There are those
who have been blessed
with a high education
Schooled in the arts
of the finest prose

Perhaps wisdom's not found
in a storehouse of knowledge
But begins with awareness
of what one does not know

No wind blows harder
than from those
who think they know everything

Your indecision
comes with the clue
that your head is telling
your heart what to do

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

How do we know
watching grass grow
that we are alive and kicking?
We are safe in the cage
but, we will still age
and the time on the clock
will keep ticking

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?

There are ghosts that dwell
in the spooky mist
above the water at night
With the break of dawn
they will soon be gone
like vampires in the light

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

Every person on this earth
Has a truth
And when that person dies
That truth does not die with him
For better or for worse
It lives bent and twisted in the shadow
Of someone living

Sometimes taking
Sometimes giving

When there’s light
at the end of a tunnel
and the tour
of it’s darkness is done
May we never make
the careless mistake
of missing our time in the sun

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

Sometimes I do not remember
auditioning for this part
The lines are unfamiliar to me
and have been from the start
I manage to get through
most of the scenes
but at the the end of day
I know I have acted poorly
in role I’d rather not play

Desperate to get
what he thought
the world owed him
He became a victim
of his own thoughtless crime
Dying in a field
betrayed by his father
who wasn't around
to help keep him in line
He thought of the words
someone had told him
"Don't be defined by
who left you behind"

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

May the light of a smile
put a song in your heart
and see you thankful
for a place with the living
May the beautiful promise
of a better tomorrow
be the gift
that keeps on giving

There are days I wake up
on the wrong side of myself
I walk around with a bellyful of dynamite and a fuse for a tail
Until kaboom!
I then proceed to spend the rest
of the day picking up the pieces
and reassembling them into the sane person I was the day before

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?

We can outrun the wolf
on a good day
We can’t cry enough
on a bad day
And sometimes we fight
to get through the night
frightened of all
we could not say

There has been no worse an indicator of marital bliss than
an abundance of money
and yet no greater a predictor of
marital discord than the lack of it

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

He stares from across the room
Mad for every bashful lash of her eyes
Every ungraceful turn
and near stumble
Each uncomfortable moment
makes it abundantly clear that
she must be rescued
from the brute force of all this mockery
So, tonight he rides
as the knight
she thought would never come

Come back again
to the window sill
to take some coffee
until your fill
Before you leave
the lovers nest
to do what we both
know is best
For there can be no
straight lines between us

It was so uneventful
lowered into the ground
and with nothing to show
for his labors

All he wanted
was a fancy white box
so he could impress
his new neighbors

Those without arms
cannot hug you
and without warm hearts
cannot love you
Perhaps you can’t give
what you did not receive
and there is only God
to forgive you

There is this winning strength
in those humble, intelligent, and compassionate people
who know all too well
the bent of human weakness
and yet, do not let it
betray their basic decency

We must stand
in the rain to hide
any trace of tears
To be discovered weeping
is the worst
of our crazy fears

He came to study the brooding skies,
Of blues and pewter grays,
Before they bowed and curtsied,
To the lighter, warmer days
And paint emerging scenes of Spring,
With Winter in its shadows,
Among the empty, amber fields,
Sprouting into blissful meadows,
Of saving grace

Is he like a lowly worm
that crawls along the ground
Blind to what’s in front of him
not knowing where’s he bound
Has he lived a good life
or been dying a slow death
Has he lived his life freely
or struggled with each breath
Is there more to feel sorry for
More actions to regret
Will there be more apologies
Perhaps more blood to let
Is all that’s left are tired thoughts
with nothing new to ponder
Or is it time to look for grass
on the greener side of yonder
?

Maybe happiness is gratitude
That I’m not anywhere but here
Completely in the moment
With little doubt or fear
Wearing a warm and gentle smile
That rides in with the wind
Asking the child I thought was gone
To come out and play again

Let there be only
loving words spoken
so another harsh cycle
be beautifully broken
To free a generation
from a circle of pain
that it may soon wash off
in a cool cleansing rain
of tears so long sought after

There’s a hole at my feet
that I know I must fill
and as long as it’s there
I cannot be still
Don’t know where it comes from
or how it appears
But it may be how
I cope with my fears
I work to cover
an unpaid bill
that was handed to me
against my will
But, for the most part
I think I’ll survive
As long as I don’t bury
myself alive

When my own folly
paves the road to ruin
I rage against God

I dreamt of a desert
Where I sat with a sage
His comments were brief
On the mellowing of age
“From the ache of all yearning
To the wisdom of learning
One must guard passion
From excess and rage”

Wear not
the irate head to bed
‘Spite the words
that have been said
Anger is a state of mind
that leaves your slumber
in such a bind
So, in the interest
of better sleep
Eat yours words
and not a peep

… until the break of day

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

Was it the best of times?
Or the worst of times?
Maybe it’s best
That we look at the past
Through rose-colored glass
And let sleeping dogs lie

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

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

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