The lieutenant walked somberly up to me in the crowded walkway of decapitated foreign bodies. He raised both hands up to his forehead and stiffly saluted me simultaneously with each.

“Sir,” he said with a look of defeat on his face, “the brothers…”

Reading the melancholy look in his eyes, I took off running down the aisle, hurdling over piles of the enemy scattered all about the grocery store.

Turning the corner at the end of the aisle, my heart dropped down through my feet to the ground as I gazed upon the aftermath and fell to my knees. There in two chairs facing each other were my alien comrades, brothers as it were, sitting limply and almost lifelessly. Struggling through the last bits of pain, their thin arms set delicately on the arm rests of their chairs struggling to reach out to one another.

I began to cry.

Kneeling beside them, I softly grasped each of their hands and laid them atop one another as the distant stares in their eyes became more vacant with each passing moment. I placed my hand on theirs, lowered my head, and sobbed relentlessly as my breaths became short.

When I looked up, the two brothers were hunched over and almost motionless setting next to one another staring longingly into each other’s black, moribund eyes. They gazed deep into each other souls consoling their sibling in their final moments, staying connected down to the last second. I laid my other hand atop their touching hands and cried gasping for air as I kneeled there next to their dying bodies.

As they passed, I felt the greatest sense of love I have ever felt for this set of alien brothers, whom I had never before met.

One sole warrior
keeps watch over all the other birdies.
He ruffles his feathers, sticks his leg out,
and pulls it back in.
He turns his head to and fro
and surveys the land.

A little chippy bird tries his luck and lands
near.

The warrior spreads his wings
as he glides
from branch to branch.

Three hops before he makes his break for
the sun.

"I have two cats!"
         he said with a laugh...
                  as he fell to his knees...
                            and rolled on his back...

The time was all there
                       but the money went flat.
            The essence of nightshade
                                         That will do that.

So onward he marched...
                                              and later he squeezed
but rightfully so,
                       the windowless breeze.

With fortnights on days
                               and cherry blossoms in bloom,
Mr. Finnegan woke up.


It was half past noon.

Today was yesterday’s
greatest fear
and tomorrow will never come
if you let yesterday’s fears
affect today.

Tomorrow is today’s
greatest fear
and yesterday will loom
if you let today’s fears
affect tomorrow.

But yesterday can never be tomorrow’s
greatest fear
and today becomes yesterday
if you let tomorrow’s fears
affect you today.

Woke up on the cold side of
the bed again.
Lit my cigarette by the wrong end.
With decisions to weigh and debts to pay,
I dance better by myself.

Abandoned paved streets
shadowed by bright city lights;
a motionless breeze gives flight
to broken kites.
The man in the hammock dangling
by a string
stays aloft in his solitude.

In the trivial pursuit of a
worthwhile endeavor
a life neatly filed away is run
through a shredder.
Spoonfed as a child then left all
alone;
jilted like a bad penny.

Seeing through a prism of a dull
grey shade.
Bewildered at the ease of a
one-sided trade.
She built you a throne made of
leather and silk;
a throne made with only three legs.

I heard of a woman who lived in the hollow.
Her screams were so sad you could feel her sorrow.
There's a house in the woods, just north of the creek.
They say she still lives there, but she never speaks.

Her husband came home drunken and mad.
The baby was crying, what he done was real bad.
Some nights you can see her wading the creek.
She splashes the water; her baby she seeks.

They say you can hear, on clear starry nights.
A small baby crying, and a poor mothers fright.
But don't stay to long; he mourns for them too.
He walks through these woods, looking for you.

They say that he hung himself the very next day.
And a pact with the devil was what he had made.
To get back his child, he must do the devils bidding.
And he walks through these woods, taking the living.

The days have passed without fanfare,
as I quietly stood by.
I no longer dream of youthful things,
though they linger in my mind.
Most days have been pleasant,
Yet nothing great my life.
I went from child to wife to mother,
In only a blink of the eye.
Now children they have gone their way.
And husband has no words...



But silence has it's place in life,
   a moment undisturbed.



Days spent can not be bought again,
and it's not for youth I long.
I wish only to be remembered
When I am dead and gone.
Remembered not as Plato,
No I am not so rare.
I hope only to be remembered
as a whisper in the air.
A life loved and not forgotten,
by only those who cared.

I look into vulnerable eyes.
I see someone who wants to be loved.
Someone who wants to be accepted.
His heart is swollen shut from all his love that was tossed away.
His mouth opens wide, and yet he has nothing left to say.
A caring songbird merely singing to the wind,
Please sing to me, please let your song begin.
Open up your heart to me, do not be afraid.
Show me all this love you have that someone threw away.
I promise once I hold your hand that I will not let go.
Just wait and see,
In time,
I will prove it so.

For Christian

Don't buy the promises.
Don't listen to the man.
We all hear the music,
but some are in the band.

Some of US say peace.
Some of US say war.
Two of US are rich,
the rest of US are poor.

Most of US are broke.
Most of US are mad.
Some of US are working,
the rest of US are bad.

Most of US can eat,
some of US do not.
We all know it's wrong,
or have we all forgot.

I'd love to solve the problem,
I'd love to help a bit.
Come on my fellow hippies.
Come on and take a sit.

Some listen to their own song.
Most listen to the band.
But we all hear the music.
What happen to this Land?

Peace out.

My dog is lying on the floor.
I watch TV a nightly chore.
Suddenly my nose does wrinkle,
What's that smell, my eyes they sprinkle.

I jump up and turn on the fan.
Oh no that smell I can not stand.
I hold my breath with all my might.
My dog takes refuge from my sight.

I pinch my nose with my left hand,
While spraying fragrance from a can.
I open windows, crack the door.
I do believe my nose is sore.

My stomach churns as I sit down,
My hand upon my faithful hound.

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