It is not your glow dear lamp of the night,
but your tidal draw upon my mind that keeps me from my rest.
You have made of me a lunatic.
Driven me into the night to howl with the dogs.
The hair upon my neck bristles, sweat drips from my brow.
My breath quickens along with the beat of my heart.
How can you in such beauty deliver so much trouble?

I've been told there is a canon
a set of rules you say
but in this year of 2015
so many have gone away

Forget about the meter
to hell with punctuation
for in this land of poetry
there is a brand new nation

There are those who don't want this to change
and for purity they do strive
please go on stick to canon
and keep your craft alive

But no two people are the same
we all have different tastes
and when a reader hates all one writes
it's his own time he wastes

Not everyone is out there
looking for that classic write
you see today it's like the outback
there are no rules, just right

How can he be lifted
from down in the gutter      
his spirit so quiet
barely a mutter

Within him he's crying
ever depressed
his needs if you meet them
he might be impressed

But you can't meet those needs
when words are your tool
as he'll simply ignore them
believing you're quite the fool

To provide for his body
restoring his health
he may once again feel human
and in itself, that is wealth

In saving his body
making that whole
you can renew his spirit
a quite worthy goal

Young men dead and dismembered
for control of oil fields
the lie of Iraq

More youth dead and disabled
protecting the poppy fields
the lie of Afghanistan

We are sacrificing our soldiers
to ensure the freedom of their people
the lie of the nation

Lives lost
a terrible cost
for the stupidity
of men seeking power

Many children do starve
with no turkey to carve
for the stupidity
of men seeking power

Many more are now homeless
as the people grow hopeless
for the stupidity
of men seeking power

It's this power they seek
that paints a picture so bleak
for their stupidity
of caring only for power

To fly with the eagles
carrying baggage in hand
limits our heights
we must understand

With our wings always flapping
there's no way we can soar
when our minds tells your hearts
we must hang on to a some more

We're held back by that baggage
it keeps us close to the ground
with cluttered up lives
there's no real freedom found

Letting go of that baggage
will rewrite our life's story
and we can then soar with those eagles
when our hearts have no worry

The dawn of conception
of the ideas born to man
came as flickering lights
to minds that were aware
open to accepting change
awake to their surroundings
and realizing a need
thus came the knowledge of man

The home of the brave
the land of the free
folks enslaved by the rat race
well except two or three

these folks live off the grid
yeah out there on their own
in ways they work harder
but then, nature's their home

their needs are quite basic
a roof, clothing and food
what they became is rustic
no, they're not crude

it's the simple life
and it can be a great thing
providing that is
you make it through winter to spring

Tearing down nations
there's more than one way
from the outside or in
it's the game that they play

There are times they use rockets
that **** folks where they land
other times it's the rhetoric
that bury their own under sand

Whether rockets or rhetoric
in this game politic
it's the innocent who suffer
our leaders are thick as a brick

Thirsting for blood
expecting a flood
when the turnip goes dry
their greed does not die

no the blood from a turnip
is never enough
it must be ground to a pulp
it's a treatment quite rough

we're put through the mill
which is never a thrill
with too little pay
so they might have their way

but somehow we survive
although barely alive
as they leave us a crumb
no they're greed is not dumb

the field has been plowed
they've planted the seed
from our pockets they'll harvest
the next crop of their greed

To dream as a child
brings him to life
motivates his spirit
and fills his soul with hope

When those dreams are big
and seen as his destiny
they set his feet upon a path
that can lead to greatness

But the dream does not deliver itself
and the path cannot be traveled
without taking the first step

The second and third steps
must then follow
as the realization of a dream
requires dedication and work

This path is not for the faint of heart

To dream of tomorrow is not childish

The pain brought rain
the eyes watered while burning
it seldom subsided
and was always returning

It became so hard to read
and equally hard to write
when the hell would it end
it was not a good night

My thought was why me
why must I live in this state
but then I met another
who suffered from a worse fate

He sat in his chair
no legs crippled arms
but the words that he spoke
were filled with great charms

I became ashamed of myself
as all I'd done was cry
this man had conquered hopelessness
while I didn't even try

To love
is not small
in fact
it's giving your all

Dying to self
when another has need
that's how it is seen
through that very deed

Oh yes, it can hurt
at times mortal pain
and sometimes frustration
can drive you insane

Yet you continue to give
and you'd have it no other way
not just for the moment
but until your dying day

Yes, this is true love
it's not infatuation
yet it's so seldom found
outside of imagination

If you've got it you're lucky
one of the few
and the blessings you have
are as droplets of dew

The dew is so fresh
these droplets so many, so fine
are a picture of love
brought forth from a mine

A mine that's been emptied
producing a treasure to give
to one truly special
for as long as they live

Before him an angel
as if sent from heaven
to raise this mans spirit
as bread is from leaven

The man thought his needs
would never be met
yet right here before him
a new table was set

He ate of the bread
once again he felt whole
it was that angel who came
and returned him his soul

When light reaches not
the spirit of man
he cannot see to survive.

Without that spark
to break his depression
he feels he's barely alive.

But what is the light
where is the hope
how can one manage
how can one cope?

Where is his help
to stand for today
as folks without hearts
merely pass by his way.

Care not that he's troubled
on the verge of collapse
he sees the end of his world
to hold on he can't clasp.

If he is to have hope
and be able to fight
his way could be opened
If we could just be his light

Entering the forest
not really knowing why
I took chance to step upon a worn path

Though shaded beneath the canopy
the way was plain to see

Here and there rays of light
fought their way through the leaves
preventing the theft of my sight
removing the darkness
left behind from the night

The sun seldom dawns on the forest floor you know

The path I was following
was reminiscent of a slalom course
winding its way
through trees which were ever increasing
in their height and girth
taking me ever deeper
into the very heart of the forest

Before me appeared an opening
there was a great abundance of sunlight

As I drew closer
there at the center
I could see what must have been
the mother of all trees

The picture I saw
appeared strange to me
upon its branches
it looked as if there were the leaves
of the oak
of the elm
of the maple
of the birch and beach trees alike
all upon the same tree

My curiosity peaked
it was mixed with
the fear of the unknown

There at the base
of this trees great massive trunk
was the answer to why
I felt the need to enter this great wooded area

I had only heard of the Green Man before
never really believing that he existed

Then to my amazement
he spoke to me

“As the life of all trees are nourished
by the flow of the same life giving sap,
all human life is nourished
through the same blood”  

“As all trees are one with creation,
all men are one with the trees”

“All the minute portions of creation
are part of the one whole,
we are all one”

The music
soft, relaxing
I drift off
a dream world opens

I find myself on a train

the observation car
all mine
me, my music
and the rhythmic sound of the tracks

a journey of all seasons

tulips of spring in Holland
the tranquil lakes in mid summer
the colors of fall in New England
the snow capped mountains of the Alps

all seem to be at peace

the lion and the lamb
the fox and the chicken
the killer whale and baby seal
all men of the earth

I have but one hope

that this music continues

Hello darkness
thank you sleep
how wonderful the two of you are.
The pain brought me by the harsh light of day,
finally being eased.
I've long accepted the blindness
but the pressure,
the burning,
there is no getting used to them.
It is your touch though
that helps free me from the anguish.
Today has been so ******* my eyes.
Maybe tomorrow will be easier.

Egos
large enough
to steel the spirit
of entire societies

their self servitude
offering no help
to the people

their cold hearts
have no place
for love of others

their only need
to feel superior
as they tear down
all that is about them
through the misuse of
the position they were given
in order to become

as a child
king of the hill

whose lie
gave them the idea
they were above all others

do they not see the destruction
they leave in the wake of their walk
through life

Long has he lived
Finding fault as his aim
You see he was quite lonely
At the start just a game
A new target he'd choose
For every new session
But as his game progressed
It became his obsession
Well now he can't stop
He's grown a negative mind
And everywhere that he looks
The more mistakes does he find
There's become nothing of beauty
In his life there's no joy
Now he wishes he'd never
Begun this game as a boy

Infants
born with hearts for all
the children
use them to play ball

Bigoted parents
begin the fall
as they teach their kids
to ***** a wall

The hate they teach
then brings a squall
the size of which
is never small

The storm then rages
for mans great shortfall
the result of which
forms his worst pitfall

We once had hearts
as I recall
that's right, together
we once played ball

But now it seems
as we've grown tall
the lessons of bigots
have brought our downfall

There is an unwarranted fear of the unknown
that resides deep within men
who are afraid to live in the moment

They cower at the thought
of what tomorrow may bring
they look not to a bright future
of a positive nature

Weak of mind and spirit
they have no control of their emotions
their worry becomes an interest paid
to an event that has not happened yet
and could possibly never happen at all

They waste their days
without peace of mind, heart and soul
every moment given away
waiting on the worst to present itself

The negative heart
delivers illness and death
to more than a mans spirit

In the dark I sat alone
the silence I had searched for was broken
it was as if I was hearing
the beat of a broken heart

With it came the sound the empty stomachs of children
the wailing of mothers and fathers  
over those who had already passed
the weeping of an entire people
as the lack of humanity
allowed them to go without

I could swear that it was with my ears
yet I knew better
somewhere deep within
there had come an awakening
to the rhythm of life
a life that I could not begin to comprehend

I had to question if this was real
or a greater presence before me
from another plane
one that we cannot see with our eyes
hear with our ears
nor feel with our mortal being

How had this come while I was so alone
why was that time of silence invaded
these sounds I hear
should never be present

I had once been told
that a man's heart
had a limited number of beats
and then he would die

Whose death am I witnessing
as I listen to what is supposed to be my quiet time

That place of peace
will I ever be allowed to visit it again

We think we know so much
yet we understand so little
the handful that do
seem to have the smallest voice
while the masses deny
the earth is being *****
there is little they will accept
warming comes
displayed in the strangest way
air thins
as carbon emissions thicken
fracking
depleting potable water
during days of drought
what will it take
a global flood
or a scorched earth
when will they listen
an awakening of the masses must come
before they are no more

Changes, always changes
bringing ends that are unseen
at times
make a life sheen
but then a flip side
later seen
an ugliness
that's turned mean

But the changes do come
no time for a breath
we must accept them and roll
or face a bleak death
for once left behind
it's joy we find missing
and have no reason at all
to continue life's dancing

If all you do is just sit there
your spirit will soon tear
so take them and roll
continue life's stroll
the joy you may find
just might bring peace of mind
they determine your fate
yes your changes await

They come into our lives
then sometime later they go
just what brought us together
there's no way to know

We were molded and shaped
as we walked side by side
strangers became friends
during the times our lives coincide

There is one thing that I'm certain of
for the time they've been here
every moment spent together
should be the times we hold dear

Though the days ramble on
and the years move ahead
a mind that grows old
is the one thing that I dread

A mind should stay young
the negative severed
keeping a fresh attitude
that we can cherish forever

Growing old
and growing older
to me they're two different things
the one is as winter
while the other
still spring

they were no more than little green plastic soldiers
outfitted with rifles and ammo belt
as a child they were set up as to be in battle
the foe was unknown
it was just how we played
what fun it was to pretend army

the cold war was waging
the threat of missiles
Russian missiles so close to our own shores
being launched from Cuba brought fear
we were still young and didn't really understand the danger
we continued to play army
marching with sticks we pretended were rifles
ready to take cover in the shelters we made in the vacant field
we were still having our fun
playing army

now grown up
many of my generation sit in congress
they still have their toy soldiers
they're no longer green
the weapons no longer resemble the rifles of our youth
and the toys they play with
are no longer plastic
they continue to put them to battle in other lands
they are still having fun
playing army

Awake
on the right side of the dirt
what could it hurt
to open my eyes
before me a picture
one of sadness
the homeless
the working poor
the children with dirt upon their faces
in tattered clothing
I see distended bellies
malnutrition taking its toll

this is supposed to be
the worlds greatest nation

we see those who will not work
and there are those who can not help themselves
but it is the children who suffer most
they deserve better

I often wonder
and I know I wouldn't change things
could I stop the hurt inside
if I were to awaken on the other side

The journey at first
seemed to be taking forever
now the miles fly by
I'm not sure where
when
or for that matter
how it will end
but it's been great
I think I'll celebrate today

Ashes to ashes
dust to dust
today's people are angry
and its for violence they lust
blood being spilled
on earths very crust
with a system that's deafened
and no longer just

Is it too late
to change how men think
I hate that we're standing
this close to the brink
I can't put the blame
on the whiskey they drink
when it's the attitudes they're taught
that really does stink

Filled up with hate
riddled with fear
for that which is different
approaching too near
and they don't see the problem
that's one thing that's clear
seen in their favorite activity
their refusal to hear

Ashes to ashes
dust to dust
badges now tarnished
as if covered with rust
weren't these the people
we were taught to trust
why must the good shake their heads
in utter disgust

Thou shalt not fee the gays
for thine is the kingdom of bigotry

They deserve no pizza
nor wedding cake
what you must offer
your disgust and your hate

Just don't call yourselves christian
as that you are not
remember the mount
he fed all on the spot

With fishes and loaves
he never questioned a one
never leaving a man out
oh no that wasn't done

He then commanded to love all
he didn't leave out the gays
I believe he'd be appalled
at today's christian ways

You must wake to their lies
unto the truth
and it must be done
during the days of youth

for those who wait
until days of old
will find that their heart
has been grown as a mold

kept in the dark
and living in shadows
always afraid
to look out their windows

denying the violence
accepting the wars
and avoiding the truth
they've become cold hearted ******

Rude and rotten
that's what they are
with their bigoted messages
the worst kind by far

Seldom respectful
to the people they meet
destroying their mood
but not on the street

It's here on the internet
and not face to face
where they act as the tough guy
feeling perfectly safe

Anonymity that's cool
avatars they're great
and what they give to the bullies
is a place to practice their hate

An eye for an eye
a tooth for a tooth
violence birthing violence
an unfortunate truth

Attitudes today
put on a strong front
in the face of society
and its battlefront

We've created a world
of dissension and discord
and the a payment for this
we can't begin to afford

They come upon me
with all their hate
believing that
their words are great

Did they not understand
what they would find
was an argument
with words in kind

It's for the pain they cause
I will return
choice words of my own
in hopes they'll burn

But after the fight
I sit and reflect
I've made things worse
with my neglect

Through my retort
how did I not know
I was reducing myself
to their level so low

Yes he was a fool
but now there are two
by my decision to argue
I stepped in his shoes

The great divide
religious fanatics
cause it to grow wide
in the name of their god
think they're saving your hide
when in all honest truth
all they do is misguide

The great divide
separates families
groom against bride
splitting up marriage
conversation gets snide
from their stubbornness
that's based on their pride

The great divide
the different beliefs
relationship fried
run aground on the reefs
partners have cried
days together are ending
as this trauma takes them broadside

The great divide
organized religion
cause folks to take sides
rather than bond
total lives are shanghaied
and still they aren't seeing
that the great divide as always has lied

Allegory taught as history
often leaves idiots
standing in its wake
reciting the stories
as if they're fact
when in truth they're actually fake

They're lessons to learn
that's really their purpose
teaching principles to help guide our lives
but to be preached as true
religion seeks to control you
it's for power the preacher now strives

What can you do
when your kids are grown
they're hurtin' inside
and out there on their own

You still want to protect
make everything right
you see they're still your kids
even when out of sight

How do you hold them
remove all that pain
give them the comfort
they need once again

About all you can do
is be there and listen
count yourself lucky
you're the ear that they've chosen

You're always that parent
that wants the best for their kid
they've come to you for advice
in hopes their problem you'll rid

Give to them your strength
free them from their fear
then later in private
go ahead, shed a tear

You've become a great lighthouse
it's true you're their beacon
they feel safe in your love
from a bond never broken

I stepped from the pumpkin,
found the sky to be littered.
There were bright shiny stars,
they surrounded the sun.
It was a moon shadow following me
as I walked above the clouds.

I watched the airplanes,
funny how they flew backwards.
I wondered which way the people were seated.  
Do they realize that they are going
where they came from.

To ask would be so impolite
and an admission
of my weak understanding
of this new day.

Life is play!

Then I thought of
Little Big Man.
Oh how he could ride.

The people in the plane
smiled at me,
all at once.
It was as if on cue.

I checked my fly.

Wanting to return inside the pumpkin
I made an about face
and in its place
I saw a whale leap down
from the surface of the sea above me.
He beckoned for me to enter
and then promised,
I would find what I was searching for within.

There was a tree
with a small stream running beside it.
I sat with my back against it,
fell asleep
and dreamed of a world at peace.

The door was opened.
Yesterday stood before me,
baggage in hand.
Visions of my past came in droves
ripping away my peace .
Leaving me with new turmoil.

Difficult lessons of my life,
I'd learned from them.
Became a better man for them.
Now hounding me.
Why must I relive these moments?
They only weaken my spirit
and chase me back into a depressed state.
One that I had thought I had long gotten over.
They bring nothing but pain.

Yesterday shall not be allowed to move in.

Painful lack of words
writing becomes much too hard
where have our poems gone.

Words written in haste
now make very little sense
without any flow.

They are no longer
as a body without breath
alive for others.

Emptiness resides
in a heart without feeling
our words have no life.

Those words without life
failing to bless a hearer
become of no use.

Why do we ignore
inspiration from nature
our muse is asleep.

Once it awakens
words return to the living
joy comes to our hearts.

The heart of the peacemaker
it'll will never be heard
there is no profit in peace
the greed of the hawks is far too great
they will never let loose of their cash-cow
so why do we continue to speak
why do we write poems for peace
when we know we preaching to the chior
if it weren't for our own sanity
I fear we would give up altogether
our words would dissappear
there would be no-one left saying
“there's a better way than war”
but a heart grown cold
it would only helpo to feed the evil
maybe if we could change one mind
one heart
turn one away from spoils of war
it would be a step
I guess that's why we keep walking

The sound of the wooden flute
it's as if I'm listening to the song of the warbler
those that visit at sunset
bringing rest and relaxation to the weary

Their song resting on a bed
of an ever present drone
of the didjeridoo
comforts and quiets me

There, the stick
beating on a block of wood
I feel as if there are
droplets of dew
falling from leaves from a tree above me
into a pool of water at my feet

It's as if the water of life
my life
is returning home

As the shamisens strings come alive
I see a field of wildflowers
they wave gently in the breeze
that is brought forth from its music

Peace is mine

Happiness abounds

My spirit is renewed

Violence begets violence, hate begets hate
this issue must end before it's too late

it's one thing to spank, quite another to beat
whether its done at home or out in the street

public embarrassment just angers your kid
resentment will grow of which you'll never be rid

families then broken bonds forever lost
public beatings have a terrible cost

this circle exists and there is no denying
in the end what you'll find is a parent who's crying

wondering why their kids have lost all respect
when their beatings have been a form of neglect

sparing the rod is not spoiling the child
when it's most often the rod that makes the youth wild

parents wake up, if it's fear that you want
what you will gain are regrets that forever will haunt

your child needs you to be their greatest hero
don't treat them in a way that you appear as a zero

the mother in Baltimore in that brief little session
has taught to her son a truly terrible lesson

there's a form of discipline, one that's way over the line
that when their child misbehaves, they've learned that beatings are fine

you see beatings get passed down to the next generation
when the kids beat their own kids, it's a regeneration

nobody's been listening, the problem's not gone
the circle continues and the beating goes on

The time that was lost
delivered its cost
the pain it brought
covered my heart with a frost

This life never fair
others they stare
it's sack cloth and ashes
this garment I wear

They watch as I cry
not one caring why
they all think that I'm crazy
why must children die

So now while I mourn
and sit here forlorn
I have one giant question
why the hell were we born

A new war had begun
against the war monger
finally sentenced to death
he couldn't hide any longer

His fear now a crippler
sent the man to his knees
begging for mercy
spare my life please

I'm not ready for death
I want to live longer
how could I have been so wrong
to be a war monger

All of those lives
all these dead boys
I promise I'll change
no longer treat them as toys

The collateral damage
I thought not my fault
the women and children
so many dead in the vault

Again I do beg you
spare my life please
what more do you want
I'm here on my knees

Yet the truth of the matter
except for his fear
his begging for mercy
is something we'd never hear

He'd go on making money
by sending others to war
showing all who he is
a war mongering *****

Slamming doors and burning bridges
they're pretty much the same
once it's done there's no turning back
life becomes a brand new game

The grass that's seen on the other side
though greener it may seem
still needs the same amount of tending
not like what was in your dream

Yeah the land of milk and honey
sure that's what you thought you saw
all things brand new within your view
through your gaze you're held in awe

Taking the step you claim your land
wait don't burn that bridge you just crossed
you slam that door from where you've been
it's all that could be lost

Things don't always work out the way you plan
sometimes you've just gotta retreat
and if you destroy your only pathway back
it's your demise that you could meet

So leave that doorway open
and keep that bridge intact
they could be quite useful in your future
and save you from being trapped

Petrichor
I know you well
it has been far too long
since your last visit
we have suffered greatly in your absence
but have survived
our crops will now flourish
your visit needed more than one could tell
your aroma is wonderful
now that the drought is passed
and the rain has come