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.

Outside my window

Life

So changed from what it once was
people so different from what they were
today it seems as if
we have no time for others
we act as if we are threatened
by those who pass by
even by our neighbors
ever on our guard
the only respect we show
seems to be
because of our fear

Outside my window
life in its ridiculousness
I watch as they walk by
afraid to make eye contact
unable to greet each other

No, it's not just those two across the street
they've been feuding for years
it appears to be almost everyone

There was a time when women
would nod and give a slight curtsy
and men
would tip their hats in greeting
it was a time
that people showed respect for each other
in the form of politeness

Today's respect is shown by their
avoidance of acknowledgment
due to fear of possible confrontation

There are so many angry people in the world today
the shame is that they don't have to be angry if they don't want to be
they hold on  to their anger as if it is their life's blood
like those two across the street
only their feud seems to be with life itself

Will they ever see
will they ever understand
they hurt themselves in their denial of joy

The dawn breaks
the sun aches
those left behind at setting time
cannot be found
only a cloud of despair

The cloud blocks the earth
from receiving his life giving warmth
the brilliant rays are stopped
this day sadly lacking now in any illumination
the people languish in their depression

Hope falters
when the sun
no longer shines
upon the earth
and its people

My stone of disrespect was always at the ready

The stones of prejudice and bigotry were my tools

I have thrown that stone of anger

And the stone of bitterness then weighed me down

While the stone of hate destroyed me

Stinkin' thinkin'
goin' on
wishin' stress
would soon be gone

Every day
filled with strife
makes for man
an awful life

Gotta change things
find relief
make an exit
from the grief

Movin' on
to better things
where at last
the heart will sing

Soft music
filling the early hours
it brings me peace
but also a sadness
a sadness that we live in a world
consumed by an attitude of violence
people who think
“I will have closure through revenge”

I am sad for those who hold an attitude of
retuning in kind
wrongs they feel have been done to them

Revenge may bring
a certain satisfaction in their minds
but never peace to their spirit
the mind reminds them of the hurt they hold
their heart grows bitter
it is the vengeance that keeps them hurting

Forgiveness is their escape
but they fear forgiving will
allow a repeat of the moment that brought the hurt
that the offender may believe that it's alright with you
but the forgiveness is not for them
it is a letting go of all that has caused your hurt
and robbed you of your happiness
forgiveness is for you

****, that music is so important to me
but then, so is my hope that one day
the attitude of violence
will disappear from the face of the earth

Those wonderful colors
almost black on the edges
the transition to a rich chocolate brown
becoming transparent as it moves toward gold
then yellow
that beautiful morning beverage
being poured from carafe to cup
I hear the voice of Joe Cocker
“You are so beautiful to me”
“You're everything I'd hoped for”
“Everything I need”

Good Morning World

when perfectly clear
I've no reason to think
a mindlessness that I fear
stagnation does stink

I've no reason to think
give me my abstract
stagnation does stink
give me my mind back

give me my abstract
it serves me quite well
give me my mind back
set me free from this hell

it serves me quite well
to answer questions I find
set me free from this hell
and open my mind

the ability to think
this mindlessness that I fear
can be too often the case
when things are perfectly clear

I want my own answers
that way they'll be mine
so don't worry yourself
I'll be perfectly fine

I see him
he's different
my judgment
misleads
for I repeat to myself
the words of another
the words of the bigot
who taught me

He knows not of my mind
I have not spoken
my beliefs aloud

He does not see
the darkness
within my heart

Why is it
that he can continue on
with a smile
while I harbor
a feeling of distrust
because of our differences

If we had been allowed
to be thrown together
while we were children
we would never have known
that there was anything
different to judge

My judgment
has destroyed
the man that I
was supposed to be

It has been said
truth should be shouted
from the tops of the mountains

Truth defined
a fact
or belief
accepted as true

What kind of definition is that
using truth to define truth
to me it is saying
truth is as we see it

So whose truth should that be
my truth
your truth
what truth should be shouted from the mountains

Truth that brings about battles
between neighbors
destroying civility

Truth that sends countries to war
leaving death and dismemberment
in its wake

Cannot our truth be told
civilly
respectfully
without words
that become infused with intolerance
of others and their beliefs

It's been a long time
the words are still the same

Can't we all just get along!

Or at least try

There will never be peace
till that last soldier dies
the youth who are fighting
swallow government lies

Wars never one sided
the fault lies with both
then brainwashed children
take that ultimate oath

They're to fight to the death
practice an eye for an eye
**** women and children
without knowing the why

Told it's about faith
and on this they should stand
when the truth of the matter
it's really about land

As long as the land
remains the spoils of war
there won't be any peace
politicians keep score

Time now to play war
leaders beating their drums
it's more power they seek
without care how it comes

Sending kids to their death
whether land, sea or sky
it's sad we'll only know peace
once that last soldier dies

Home for Christmas
I don't remember the last time
he's been away so long
sure he's been home for visits
they've been great
but seldom around the holidays
he's so much more of a man
than 22 years ago
seems we have to get to know each other
I can't imagine a better gift
than to have my son home

Sunshine
without the rains
allows the land to dry
without the water nothing grows
winds begin to strip away the topsoil
important are the storms of life
true joy will not be known
with nothing but
sunshine

Consider the potato chip
new flavors all the time
fire roasted sweet corn
who-da thought

Oh how we search
for that new flavor of life

We search high and low
for something fresh

To tickle the taste buds
of our imagination

To set us on a path
we've not traveled before

To open our minds
toward a greater understanding of who we are

To enrich our lives
bringing greater joy to our hearts

I've tried that fire roasted sweet corn chip

You know something
it really was quite satisfying

This morning, eyes closed sitting in my favorite chair
it seems as I was truly alone for a brief moment
total quiet, total  comfort

I thought why has bringing a foot stool close crossed my mind
it could in no way increase the peace I was feeling

Then I went blank
not a thought in my mind

For this instant
I seemed to disappear completely

I was existing to simply be part of the whole

I was the universe

I now question whether I had reached a true moment of zen

In an instant I knew that I must share this moment
and in that thought
the moment ceased to exist
I was back in the world of the limited

That emptiness was filled with a peace I have never experienced before

I hope to take this trip again soon

the game of symantics
the war of the words
participants battling
wielding their swords

the problem with english
too much means the same
with neither man wrong
it's our language to blame

Encompassed in darkness
the light of day unseen
the years passed in a hole of lies
this faith is not my own
if it were
I could find joy
but there is only darkness
a spirit that has no life
birthed by false hope

The negativity of those men
the ones who seek  power
to hold control over others
their words were so inviting at first
those words are no longer so
today they bring a loneliness
a longing
for the days of innocence

I ask myself why
why have I slept so long
why have I walked through life
with my eyes wide shut

life will not wait
not for my decision
what it brings me
will be what it is

a day of joy
bright and cheery
a day of sorrow
dark and dreary

I have no choice
no control

those of joy
when they come
they're wonderful
I feel all is well
I see myself
on top of the world

those of sorrow
as if from nowhere
they appear
leaving me sad
lonely
feeling buried
beneath my troubles
no way to rise
not from the spiritual grave
that they dig for me

where is the escape
promised from my youth

where I wonder
is that silver lining
that easement
that is supposed to come
with the storms

my search only leaves darkness
the deep grey of a clouded heart
while the comfort is there
being hidden by my expectations
rather than received through acceptance

The flames do wane
yet the embers remain
there is still life within
a heart filled
with memories
a spirit and soul
warmed by them
my time upon this great blue marble
far from over
there is much yet to see
and hear
they bring new adventures
for the mind
it is as if new wood
has been found
placed upon the embers
creating a new life
from a revived flame

Times may be many
where things might not go my way
but that will never be reason
to hold my children at bay
it's a love like no other
they're my babies you see
I just hope that they realize
I've still got a strong healthy knee
come sit on my lap
let me hold you once more
and whether you're coming or going
there will be a hug at the door

Tid-bits of fish food
sprinkled on the surface
bottom feeders ascend

The sky still blue and spacious
our fields grow golden grains
snow capped mountains
are still viewed in placid reflecting pools
fruits and nuts are upon our trees
but as for brotherhood between the seas
the good has become harder to find
our light has dimmed

They came seeking relief from religious oppression
only to convert and pervert what they found
their freedom meant
the abolishment of the ways of
the new world they had come to
with violence and death
taking more land
there was no self control
no liberty
no real law other than
might made right
for the new people did not honor their god
and were deserving of death

These were not heroes
they did not liberate the peoples of this new land
they showed no mercy
there was nothing noble or divine in their treatment
not of the peoples
nor of the lands that they found

They had a dream
of great alabaster cities
built them
but today
these are filled with empty dilapidated buildings
the homeless
and the violence that built them
tears run down the cheeks
of mothers and fathers losing their sons and daughters
tears are shed by the victims
of the religious extremism that was seeded in those early times

How can we continue to sing America The Beautiful?

Where is the road
the path they claim
leads to happiness

A hedge of despair
blocks it from view
as if trapped in a maze
with walls too tall
how am I to know
left, right or continue

I have come too far to return
to the safety of my old
and miserable ways

Oh how I want that to change
to leave depression behind

It has been my understanding
moving left or right
is lateral and gains no ground
I cannot simply move on
imprisoned by who I was
I must somehow move forward

The hedge still stands in my way

Is it really an epiphany
when the answer
is so plain to so many others

The only answer it to remove
that which stands in my way
and learn to laugh

My socks they have grown their own feet
They had said that the dog would be sweet
But there's been no relief
As she's turned into a thief
And that is why I have named her Wall Street

He came
we said our hellos
and the hugs
they were real

Then we talked over a homemade pizza
the crust could have been thinner
the tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and basil from the garden
they made up for it that crust

Catching up over lunch
just being together again
it's was a wonderful way to pass the moments we had

Seventeen years is a long time
he was so much younger then
no longer the same little fellow we knew
of course Gramma and I
well, we might have changed a little in his eyes as well

It became time to rummage through so many old items
left overs that we had saved from the past
his past

We all have a past
his was a little tougher than most
mom and dad both taken from him
the one in her death
the other imprisoned

He was only five at the time

He never had a chance
this past was ****** upon him
much too early in his life
actual memories may have been few
but the few that made their way to the present
brought with them emotional moments

When he left
he took with him the things that meant the most to him
much too soon for my liking
but I was his age once, I guess I understand

It's hard to part again so quickly
there were so many lost years
but there will be another time
our hearts will forever beat as one
and the hugs will always be real

This great mist
brought on by the fog
I find myself walking within a cloud

Alone

I find myself in this is a place of peace
this place isolated
from the troubles of the world

Tranquility

The sounds of nature
that normally surround me
have grown strangely quiet

Thoughts

My mind so active
wondering where
my world has gone

Dreams

Enter my consciousness
of what life could be like
without the hate that exists in this world

Awakened

The sound of a train whistle
the closest tracks ten miles away
brings me back

Reality

Now leaving me wanting
to walk within the cloud
for eternity

He spent time in the garden
moved too close to the rose
was pricked by it's thorn
the love he had given
was returned with pain

his mind appeared limited
he had never seen the big picture
what did it matter anyway
was there anyone who really cared
things never change
life's flow a drone
a constant low frequency hum
no variance what-so-ever
no music
no song
each day
though the sun shone bright
grayer than the previous
he could no longer muster the care
needed for the moment

A
Poisonous
Attitude
That
Hinders
You

The beginning
this must be the root
The end
seems to be absolute
The philanthropist
does he help all he can find
The bigot
I know there's more than one kind
The sea
more than seven to see
The land
tell me which one would that be
The title
can enliven ones mind
The word the
often leaves options behind

This word often says
there is only one
definitive as hell
for the writer no fun
yet we use it because
it's better than none
and quite frankly it fits
like a dog in a bun

I had met an intellectual
he said I was wrong
but he never really wondered
the reason I had for my song

He went about finding my faults
it seems that's what intellectuals do
and I suppose the reason
is to prove they're so much better than you

Well he was so insecure
with all the crap that he knew
he began to nit-pic
and the list of course grew

I said go ahead speak your peace
point out all of my gaffes
make a fool of yourself
while my friends and I laugh

He then moved away
his tail was tucked under
but I'm sure he'll be back
to point out my blunders

So thankful I am
for all the help that they give
for with a good hearty laugh
is the best way one should live

Birds on the feeder
Sprinkle the seed to the ground
Others are well fed

As I travel the road
I think of the places it has taken me
the people I have met
it was long ago and it was yesterday
now it continues before me
where it leads
who I'll meet
these are the mysteries
that will be revealed tomorrow

they come for our boys with their lies
their treatment as toys I despise
then with their last breath
our young men enter death
no more than pawns in the war mongers eyes

The sky now blue
the warmth returning
springtime has come
leaving the cold of winter behind
the trees bring forth new buds
giving life to new leaves
the leaves fill the trees
and my eyes and mind now drawn
to the wonder of natures ability
to turn the sky green

Feeling trapped
yet I must muddle through
the day dragging on
never sure what to do
but I make it each day
and I think I know why
at the end of each day
I just wave good-bye

My back
it hurts
the pain
it comes in spurts

The task
at hand
is to simply
try to stand

From hot packs
unto cold
I don't like this
getting old

It's become so hard to walk
I don't even want to talk
all I want is some relief
from this nagging pain and grief

It's even hard now just to think
seeing I've hurt my weakest link
and although I'm sharing ink
it's times like these that really stink

December 26th, 2015
how strangly empty the sites I visit are
no-one seems to be around
my first thought
the folks I normally see
they've received gifts that they didn't like
now they're at the stores
returning them
exchanging them
to meet their own desires
I know it's allowed
it's also pretty common these days
it seems that there's just no appreciation
not for the givers anyway
I guess those days are gone
it's the thought that counts
isn't very popular anymore

He told of his life
all that went before him was included
he claimed that it had all been passed down
from parents
from their parents
and ancestors from far back

Another man
told me of his life
he too included
all that went before him
the tale also had been relayed through the ages
passed down through the generations

Their lives
the lives of their ancestors
had crossed
time and time again
yet their truth of those times
came across as quite different

I have decided that
we will always have more than one tale
we will always have more than one viewpoint
and we will always refer to these tales as
History

War
cities destroyed
roads covered in blood
trails of  the dead
soldiers
civilians
children
no-one remains untouched
nightmares haunt those who survive
the last man standing
wins nothing

Who sees the evil in war
We do whispered the dead soldiers
Who sees the evil in war
We do spoke the dismembered men and women
Who sees the evil in war
We do came the response of the children of collateral damage
Who sees the evil in war
It is I was heard from the widowed wife
Who sees the evil in war
We do cried the parents as their child would never come home again
Who sees the evil in war
Will daddy ever be able to ever play with me
Who sees the evil in war
It seems all do except for the corporate world of the war machine

Hawks
birds of prey
prefer fresh meat
bring a violent death
to their meal
the people of a nation
go hungry

Though I grow older
and closer to death
there's no reason at all
till I take my last breath
that I must act my age
or act as I'm old
I'll pause here a moment
you must find my statement quite bold

Yes I'm living longer
but I refuse to grow old
it's true, older I'll be
but the world I will see
through the mind and the eyes of a child
living my life free and wild
you see, youth
never goes out of style

Man, placed in a box of rules.
Tolerated as long as he behaves
and doesn't wander outside.
His growth limited by its walls
with no room to add anything that might be new.

Is the world afraid
to have a new dessert,
one that may tickle the tastes
of those who see themselves as inmates?

Bound within this box,
their faith and beliefs are squashed.
The box dwellers are deprived
of their choice and preference of their own
likes, dislikes and that which makes them who they are.
Their individualism stolen.
Their personal freedom denied.
Their voices silenced by a sound proofing
created by the approval or disapproval of the elder.

There is no freedom within the box
when forced to live by another mans creed.

Total quiet
of heart
of soul
brings peace
tranquility
and harmony
to the life
we've been born to.

Our spirit
is fed
and nourished
it grows
giving us
the comforting
knowledge of
who we are.

We become one
with our surroundings
part of nature
and of all things
as we dive
deeper
into ourselves
to our very core.

Here
in this
time
and place
of quiet
we learn
to love.

I have eaten and my belly is filled
yet the sweet and savory flavors remain
my taste buds beg for more
so I surrender and continue to eat
my satisfaction had brought so much joy
but now the pain begins to grow in my gut
how foolish my over indulgence has become

hearts cold
filled with a loneliness
delivered by abandonment

thoughts muddled
with an uncertainty
of a blinded minds eye

spirits descend
to places far more dangerous
than the hell that took them there

once all becomes black
there is little chance to return
from the depth of depression

what does it matter
whether they come for your money
or they come for your blood
the fact that they come
speaks of a dark heart
they are the takers
they've no wish to share with us
only leaving enough seed behind
to ensure another harvest

our money and blood
the sweat of our brow
they depend on it
they demand our loyalty to their cash cow
while seeing us as fodder for their cannons
they thirst ever for more
never satisfied with the hoard
they've already amassed

those who stand in their way
they're expendable
the rich get richer by the day
our cost to live
continually endangered
oh how the plutocrat loves to hold his third world ransom

that is what we are becoming

we are their stepping stones
and once we are used to cross a river
bringing the takers to greener pastures
we are no longer needed
there will always be more stones
that they can throw into the waters

we are no more than bridge material to their next fortune
once crossed to be thrown away
they'll not need our bridge a second time
they never look back and care not
for the rubble they leave behind

This write is a lesson
intended for me
a reminder of sorts
of the way I should be

No target intended
it's not about you
unless that you find
this is something you do

My time being wasted
I  return to spend more
with this one little wish
to even the score

To force you
into wasting your time
in a childish argument
by crossing the line

One with no last word
no truce to be found
repeating the same comments
till they're run into the ground

We move on to insulting
and give it our best
when the revenge of choice
should have been to give it a rest

I should be spending my time
going on with my life
than to fill every moment
riddled with strife

This not about you
it's all about me
not looking for payback
it's the way I should be