I run into that old brick wall again
You never want to let my loving in
I know that you love me, the way that I love you
But what’s a lovin’ heart supposed to do

I’m living here, with my loving heart
You close the door, before I even start
I wish that I could show you, how it feels when we’re apart
I’m living here, with my loving heart

They say that time, can heal a broken heart
You’ll fade away, and I’ll get a new start
And someday you won’t own me, the way you do today
My loving heart might live another way

I tell myself, you can make it one more day
But my loving heart, don’t hear a single word I say

I’m living here, with my loving heart
You close the door, before I even start
I wish that I could show you, how it feels when we’re apart
I’m living here, with my loving heart

Summertime brings forth a wondrous season
Where charms of nature suddenly arise
A tapestry of beauty is reason
For wonder and laughter beneath blue skies

The trees display with joyful sway their glee
As canopies of leaves rustle a song
Their branches dance the summer jubilee
As echoes of laughter sing all day long

The hues displayed in grand flowers arrayed
Burst forth in brilliance, a kaleidoscope
Fragrant whispers pervade the air conveyed
Senses enchanted with promise and hope

Babbling we now hear, streams and rivers near
Their melodies a symphony so sweet
A lullaby so dear, removes all fear
As sparkling waters kiss the sun’s retreat

Summertime sets the sight of pure delight
With wonder, peace and beauty shining bright

Raining remedy

Welcomed with watered wisdom

Elixir of earth

Overgrowths of arm-post life
Lift upward as my steam-breath
Vanishes thinly into the sky.

Cool sweat drips deliberately
As the stacks grow larger
And the sawdust smells and sticks.

The wagon-load will wallow obediently
As the frost bites cleanly
Through the still winter dusk.

Ash white smoke curls softly
From the cut-stone chimney
Where a portrait of simplicity
Sleeps eternally in my mind.

I know a place where words are bent
Their meaning will never be still
When you arrive and your time is all spent
You will have arrived at Dorchville

With Dorchville flandered the dumpkin kingfisher
In rocoroyal the flashblue fluger
Wasted the ibeniss of landers and hoofers
Ignored the stainbreath and dagcallers whimper

So willness of beurse the tamey from comey
And rolo ignorest may beechoff that vercove
The rosets draw sprigly from diurts so nosplay
And landers and hoofers now quacker and strutter

I lost my friend just the other day
Just like a brother in so many ways
I know he’s there waiting ‘round for me
And I know one day I’ll see

When life got tough, he’d help me through
It seemed he always knew just what to do
I know no one can ever be
Like my friend waiting there for me

There’s not too many like this friend of mine
Never too busy he’d take the time
When everything was wrong and I saw no light
He was always there to help me make it right

He was my friend, and I miss him so
He was my friend, why did he have to go
When the sun is shining bright, or on a starry, starry night
He’s waiting there for me - he’s my friend.

Many moments recalled in pain
Even as everyone wonders in vain
Martin lay motionless at the Lorraine
Photos pour popular chords of disdain

His was a hallowed history to gain
Innocence into infinity’s drain
Seasons secure will never be slain

Hot
Summer sun scorches
The breath still.

Morning wave
Buries its hate
In scratching grass-sounds.

Floating yellow
Line of sight bends
In brain-sensed tease.

Echos
Empty canyons fall
Beyond stillness.

Caution winds silent spirals,
Soaring distance -- unswerving sight.

Melted minutes
Sultry stares
Torrid tease

Innocence to one who knows
Distracted, poised, and then composed
The proper place shall never be
Light, laugh, child-visions see.

The blossom young can never hear
The beauty, grace, or trembling fear
That beckons weak to taste the scent
Among the flowers, time is spent.

Spring is growth and time and trust
Mine is over, short, and must
Fall away as summer reigns
Flowers bloom in lovers’ lanes.

To tug the gentle petal young
Whose golden voice above all sung
Within the growth there is one rose,
Innocence to one who knows.

Pictures of you and me
Smiling falsely into silicon and sand
Two empty containers can be
Hopelessly contented and blaringly bland

The big eye caught us straight
And lied to those who see
Time for us may labor and wait
But autumn may never be

The link between us is growing
The fissure enlarges too
Words and feelings glowing
Concern for me and you

Future may cease my heart-sweat
Graves may close my pains
For now it’s truly a sure-bet
Drama in lovers’ lanes

I reach out
For the icy, dulling numbness
Of whipping winter winds
For the frozen laughter
Of ice packed play by snow-capped kids

I reach out
For the green, fresh spring grass
And the blooming of path side flowers
For the chirps of birds
In baby budding trees

I reach out
For the penetrating summer sun
And its fiery furnace of light
For the lazy dogs and the cool breeze
In summer shades

I reach out
For the autumn colors
Of lovely leaves ending their lives
For the hum of gentle animals
Working toward the winter

I reach out
For all of life and what it brings
For its substance, its character
Its emotions, its feelings.

And reaching for them
For the known and unknown
Works of God and all his beauty
I step lightly on this earth
As one man bound to duty

On a snowy evening when the cold wind swirls
We sit quietly thinking of the boys and girls
And the excitement the early morning will bring
As the joy spreads rippling while the children sing.

Years ago we too were lost in the maze
And foggy wonderment of those fleeting days
When sleepy-eyed we longed to stay awake
To see the jolly red giant and to partake
In the mystery of the spell only he could spin
But sandy-eyed we fell asleep again.

Quiet and still the winter night was hushed
As I looked around the room and rushed
Into the fireside glow where the glittering tree
Displayed its presence and huddled there for me,
My dreams and wants, I shook with all my joy
And rushed around the tree, clutching at each toy.

My sister wandered in still yawning.
We knew we’d never wait for morning
And Mom would call us to the window to peer
Into the night for St. Nick and his reindeer.
The wonder of those times still brings delight
It’s truly magical, the love of this special night.
            .
            .
            .
Christmas morning, my daughter’s still asleep,
Too young to understand the memories we keep
Locked away for this very time of year
When Santa loads his sleigh with all his gear
And sets his flight for all the world around,
Returns again with not even a pause or sound.

The wonder of this night is strong in my mind.
We hope and want for her, a feeling just as kind
Full of mystery, wonder and joy without bounds
The night each year when Santa comes to town.

Did you ever look at empty space and imagine
The brilliance that structured its existence.
Did you ever call your best friend by the same
Rotten name he just called you.
Did you ever fear for your being, knowing your
Ultimate end could be in a minute, in a snap.
Did you ever watch a kid circle under a lazy
Fly ball and glove-block its earthbound path.
Did you ever love a puppy so much you couldn’t
Sleep without checking him eleventy-four times at night.
Did you ever plow the earth and smell God’s gift to man,
And talk the next crop up and growing.
Did you ever race your friends and run until your lungs screamed,
Falling down laughing at victory or defeat.
Did you ever watch a spider slowly spin a perfect web
With his patience uninterrupted by your insistence of contrariety.
Did you ever call the night-wind to hush
To stillness and lay sandy-eyed waiting.
Did you ever accept or reject the norms
Crammed at you or ignore their existence.
Did you ever battle yourself with ideas and judgments
That no man can answer and still seek your solutions.
Did you ever simply say hello to a perfect stranger
And realize that you are the strange one.
Did you ever sit in the grass yard of the post office
And watch the smothered stares of strangers.
Did you ever stop to realize that success to one is failure
To another and your words rattle empty to set minds.
Did you ever wish for a chance you’ll never have,
Realizing you would have succeeded fully.
Did you ever feel the grip loosen in spite of all your
Efforts and wonder about tomorrow.
Did you ever thank God for your ability to question,
To learn, to be human.
Did you ever watch an infant think, the wheels turn
And the language of thought distorted.
Did you ever try to express your opinion
To one who will not listen.
Did you ever listen when wise men talked
Yet incorporated their wisdom only in painful acceptance.
Did you ever wonder what your Mom and Dad were like
At age twelve.
Did you ever wonder what you were like at age twelve.
Did you ever wish for others to be happy, really happy,
But they never are no matter what you do.
Did you ever wish for peace but realize
That tranquility is fleeting and temporary.

If you see her say hello
Haven’t seen her for a while
Where she’s gone to I don’t know
Never figured out her style
Calling on the memories left to me

We were lovers strong and sure
Always holding on so tight
From her heart her love so pure
Helped me make it through the night
Looking now at all those yesterdays

Calling on the memories left to me
Looking now at how things should be

Burning hearts and sleepless nights
Longing for her loving way
Wishing I could make it right
Never knowing what to say
Dying inside without her near

Calling on the memories left to me
Looking now at how things should be

I never wept when winter called
Nor turned the icy blast away

Alone, alone, so all alone
Standing still for winter’s day

The summer strong melts empty, long
Against the fall we all must take

But autumns store and plan within
Cannot the dead-cold winter make

Rusty cans and unknown skeletons
Once useful in structure and convenience
Now sculpture the red clay and pine knots
Of the hidden gateway to the backwoods.

My memory loses the battle
With a toy cash register whose numbers
Still shine black on white and flash higher
As they display, and the bells jingle.

Tires and more tires carry worn treads
With water greasy from time and nature’s
Slow and steady return to her own way
Sloshing willingly into my shoes.

Mats of old shingles once weathering
Storms and sunshine now lie quietly
Clinging to one another like lost children
Cowering in their barren vacuum of loneliness.

Old men with tales of battles
And stories of crops, and cattle, and kings
Probably sat in that old chair
With whittled arms and broken legs.

Sporadic visits teach a wondering history
More mystical and convincing
Than the fact-riddled pages of tomorrow’s assignment
Or the tainted explanations of our teachers.

Tickle sweet
Will you
No
Why
Don’t
But
Please
Well
Sorry
Yea
Do you
Yea
Me too
Let’s get a burger

He said that it was brillig, but what did that word mean
And slithy is a word that I had never seen
If you gyre and gimble, what do you really do
I guess when in the wabe, you seek the meaning too.

Lewis was a master of words that were not real
He made you fear the Jubjub, and he made you feel
Like your very being, is a door without a latch
It takes bravery to shun the frumious bandersnatch.

      We attack the world of words with a vorpal sword in hand
Verses, like the Tumtum tree, sprouting in the sand
And structure with rhyming can be a manxome foe
Whiffling and burbling, the flaming words will go.

Choosing careful phrases can bring a frabjous day
And poems not dead, like borogoves, find their mimsy way
While galumphing through the tulgey lines with uffish chortled joy
It makes me through and through a whiffling beamish boy

So Lewis paints a picture with unreal words so clear
The Jabberwock seems so real and something we should fear
Poetry is the art of words, with phrasing, tales and fun
Proceed carefully, and beware the Jabberwock my son.

Go to sleep now. . . .


And when you awake you will find
A new world, with new desires
New feelings, new beliefs and new joys.
You will experience a sense of total satisfaction,
Acceptance, and sureness of yourself.
No more pain and need and disappointment,
Only gentle bliss.

But that makes me less.
That steals away my humanity, my comparisons,
My decisions;  even my mistakes.
You don’t have the right to deny me my suffering.
Who makes these decisions anyway?
Let me up -- I must go,
**** these straps and your stone-faced grin!
Let me up -- My tears spew with hatred,
Rage seething as my blood and snot and weeping mix.


Go to sleep now. . . .

There was a girl from Tibet
With plans for the man she met
She loved him she said
And took him to bed
And now she drives his Corvette

Startled sprinkles twinkle and toll
The time ignores my grunts and groans
Everyday empties its force of roll
Cannons sound -- and mothers moan

Between the place where time is not
And heaven’s hell slams its door
Little men with giant heads hot
Are lost beneath the fluid floor

New nothings interrupt the waste
Of petty playthings -- argue -- lose
Experience coats with sugar taste
The salty melancholy muse

Perhaps -- possible -- should -- could -- can
“I saw it rise and fall alone”
Reaction time relative to man
Depends on tendered tailored tones

Wishes want thickness, color and cover
Design for moth and spider to loan
Answers are easy like lionized lovers
And time ignores my grunts and groans

There once was a frog from Quebec
Who was treated with such disrespect
A gull took him for lunch
But he dished the first punch
And choked the bird by the neck

Keeping memories alive thru the years
Abashed at why I was lost
Taking for granted, compounded by fears
Emptiness adds to the cost

All of that  time, was centered on me
Selfish and headstrong, I could not be told
Though poverty stricken I struggled to be
Entwined, but challenged to be so bold.

Peaceful and Easy the Feelings of day
Each memory was a dear one
Righteous but foolish in every way
Assured by that Sweet City Woman.

Shall I never travel  that way
Or navigate that distance
Really, it’s easy for me to say
Remembering in this instance
You were my Sweet City Woman

The one tree in our yard
That took my time when playing so hard
Grew large and sprawling everywhere
I lived up there without a care.

The fort we built could not be lost
Defend it strong at any cost
And when the sun in late day failed
We’d set out ready to blaze the trail.

The enemy lost the eighty-fourth battle
As cowboys then, we’d herd the cattle.
Back in corrals of empty space
Then head out for that special place.

High on limbs much larger than mine
For miles we’d watch and spend our time
Cutting our names in the limbs so hard
Up in the one tree in our yard.

The blades of grass, a sea of green
Calm the day and set the scene
The world around me seems to slow
Sedately into grass I go

So in the grass, I lay my head
And daisies like a featherbed
Dancing lightly upon my skin
Thoughts so tranquil with taction thin

A breeze comes by and rustles through
As blades of grass construct a clue
To show the world is still alive
As nature’s rhythm will arrive

And in the grass, I find my peace
With nature's song, a sweet release
The worries of the world depart
Both in the grass and in my heart