Tiny blue ballerina
Dancing in a storm
Chaos all about her
As she tries to hold her form
The dreary sets seem out of place
And the music isn't right
The cellos have been fighting
With flutes all blasted night
Remember tiny dancer
You are following your bliss
So, take that ever graceful bow
And blow the audience a kiss

Dreams - the very marrow of hope
May be the lifeline to the living
Destroy one’s dreams
And the hate
Of their dead weight
May be unforgiving

Smashing dreams or smashing bones
It matters not
Both acts of ******
Stirred from the same ***

“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

“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

Unhappy
are those
who mean to collect debts
from those
not indebted to pay
It’s an odd little game
that nobody wins
yet, people
seem willing to play.

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

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

I make faces
At my cat
And she doesn’t know
What to think of that
I stick out my tongue
And wave my hands
And I don’t think
She understands
I do a little dance
And sing a song
But, she’s too stubborn
To play along
She just winks at me
And turns her head
I think I’ll try
The dog instead

Frozen there
by a tundra stare
No one really truly cares
what his reasons
for this careless wandering
All are not hospitable
for they are but miserable
in the throes of squandering


another precious day

Thou shall not ****
until enemies prove worthy
the satisfaction of our revenge
May we be ever watchful
of all who would stain our honor
so as to punish with prejudice
And in the aftermath of such exactment
ignore that tiny place in our hearts
that carries the forgiveness of Jesus
so that we be not ashamed

Crows in a wheat field
Just before a storm
Bearing dark omens
Of the future yet to come
They came to me in mourning
Inside my dreams at night
Before too long Pop took ill
And chased God into the light
Crows in a wheat field
Soaking in the rain
Waiting for my head to nod
And for me to sleep again

Thou shall not ****
Until enemies prove worthy
The satisfaction of our lustful revenge
May we be ever watchful
Of all who would stain our honor
So as to punish with impunity
And in the aftermath of such exactment
Recall that tiny place in the heart
That carries the forgiveness of Jesus
And be then ashamed

This simple act
has become a pact
I have with the kitchen floor
I sweep it several times a day
because it’s keeping score
It knows when I sweep it often
It knows when I sweep it not
And when it feels neglected
it gets slippery in spots
I have many other things to do
than Tango with the broom
but, my floor would rather see us dance
all across the room

The pedals for me
A seat for you
On a bicycle
Not built for two

The wind at our backs
Pushing the load
Free us to coast
Down a country road

Pick one for you
And one for me
After we stop
By an apple tree

Spin round and round
In a field of rye
Bask in the sun
'Neath a blue sky

After a day
That ends too soon
We'll race across
The face of the moon

You are the hand
I am the glove
This the dance
The dance of love

For as long as it lasts
The dance of love

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

May we never be
that lonely dog
that barks into the rain
and leave behind
this indifferent world
another invisible stain

Ah, the ripened Autumn skies
Stained by rustic colored dyes
Bleeding from a fading sun
Pleased it's work is nearly done

The sudden demise
of a few relatives
left him shaken and horrified
at the discovery
that in addition to all it's inherited weaknesses
death too
runs in the family

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

Painted at the speed of light
to capture their fleeting splendor
Throwing caution to the wind
and feelings found so tender
A symphony of blue and yellow
in the Mediterranean sun
A dozen golden flowers
Immortal every one

Walking into rooms
Familiar but unknown
Standing along dance floors
Usually alone
Sitting next to ghosts
In dimly lit bars
Staring out windows
At all the moving cars
He feels like the new kid
In the middle of the year
Introduced to the class
Then put back in the rear
Like something unused
And up on a shelf
Hopping down sometimes
To shake the dust off himself
An impotent wire
That needs plugging in
Not knowing how
Is his only sin

Sometimes I think
that dumping my vices
would in itself
create a crisis
Today the notion
to give it a try
leaves my leg hollow
and my throat dry
I find a glass of beer
to be blessed
and abstention
to be a great a test
of all that pious men
have written
about love of God
and religion
So, here’s to what
wins the day
and to hell
with what my conscience
has to say

How sad
the long face of a friend
or one who has
stood so long
on a side of the mirror
as to call him as none other
Both think some fear and loathing
are feelings they share
Each thinks the other phony
Hence, the contemptuous stare

“Behind every cloud
the sun is still shining”
and within each one
a silver lining
So, take heart my friend
on a dark, gloomy day
and don’t listen to Gus
he will lead you astray

Welcome to the landscape
It's distorted dimensions
What he sees
and what he breathes
Welcome to the skin of it
to the cracking bones of it's heavy undertaking
Now, walk with him
if you can
if you can bear the strain

I can picture myself
in the painting "The Hay Wain"
Standing next to the wagon
in the Stour's riverbed
To go back in time
for a moment's simplicity
may almost be worth
a place with the dead

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

As I find myself standing
at the foot of this hole
A ***** in my hand
A little angst in my soul
I ask the same question
Again and again
Do I dig the hole deeper
of do I fill it in?

As I find myself standing
at the foot of this hole
A ***** in my hand
A little angst in my soul
I ask the same question
Again and again
Do I dig the hole deeper
of do I fill it in?

First an irritation
and some pressure in my chest
A wave of lava rises
and I'm surfing at it's crest
"Tell'em I'm coming
and Hell's coming with me!"
As I threaten to erupt
and what I thought would fill an ocean
only fills a cup!

The dam of tears
has more leaks
than the child has fingers
He knows that if the dam breaks
there will be no surviving it
Another casualty
in the land of Nod

I can blot out the sun
and not let it shine
You'll be desperate for lies
that are but wishes of mine

The dust from regrets
you thought left behind
Is what you will choke on
when you mistake it for wine

I may smother your dreams
and leave your soul hollow
Extinguish the flame
of all hope that may follow

My power depends
on the weakness in men
For those that stay broken
can't be broken again

So, look if you dare
and can cope with what's there
Let's meet in the darkness
if you don't easily scare

Imagine the frustration
of one's soul as it observes
the mind and the body
thinking and acting in ways
so contrary to it's being

Leaning in a dimly lit doorway
he raises the bottle to his lips
Gulping down the last of that cheap wine
he contemplates the world
and decides that all have been born
into an intensity of need
It’s edge so sharp
that to escape from it
is to feel a sweet relief
He has found that the bottle
can dull the blade
and this is why it
has become his friend
It keeps him company
in those dark places
where he hides
from the lathe

Sitting in the padded cell
his mind hanging by a thread
Foam-filled mitts taped around his hands
so he cannot harm his head
Reliving the early lessons
of his father's wrath
Beaten by the very spoons
used to teach him math
If the answer was incorrect
his father screamed "You're wrong!'
then rapped the poor kid's noggin
like a Chinese gong

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

There in a field
Along an old highway road
Among scores of wild flowers
Sat a lonely, little house
Abandoned
And not much to look at
It was the worse for wear
There had been no one there
To give it attention
And some proper care

For many, the house had gone unnoticed
But I was drawn to its solitude
I pictured myself
Sitting on its front porch
Watching a sunrise
Or rocking in a chair at night
Gazing upon the moon and stars
Provided especially for me
And my little house

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

I'd like        
to float on cotton
amidst the clouds
up high
Sleeping through
all the world's noise
as if  
it were a lullaby

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

There’s a man on the street
dragging bags at his feet
with holes that are leaking sand
All the grains lost
have a dear cost
for time’s running out
on this man
Dizzy and frantic
His life’s in a panic
He’s a dog chasing it’s tail
The chaos ensues
when he can’t choose
Because he’s so afraid
he will fail

How the mind is like the sea
capable of great rage
and also of such bountiful stillness
when it's waters are calm
so seems all the world

I beseech thee dream weaver
For tomorrow's sake
May you spin no frightful yarn
that may force by bed awake
Grant me this one request
of a good night's sleep
So, when I rise, I'll be my best
from slumber long and deep

From the crushing tears pressed upon her bed
To drifting among the clouds
She heard it first inside her head
Then whispered the words aloud
Don’t you cry
Sweet butterfly
Soon enough you will be free
For life is but a moment
Compared to eternity

It may be harsh
It may be cruel
To sit before
a bowl of gruel
But, please do not
complain of it
It could be worse
It could be sh—

Wrong wrong
as the day is long
are mistaken beliefs
and they are so strong
Most resilient and
as tough as leather
Thoughts from bad wiring
all misfiring together
The groove is so deep
that it seems like the norm
thriving in the chaos
of a perfect storm

If I had the picture
of Dorian Gray
May I be willing
to give it away
For my greater good
I hope that I would
free my soul
to find it’s own way

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

A great deal of art
is hidden from the eye of the beholder
Left unfinished
until awash in the glow
of an inspired observer

Lay the king down
Feel the pain of defeat
Overwhelm the relief
Felt from crying

Cover the frown
With a humble smile
Though the inside is sure
It is dying