Open your heart
And spread good cheer
Be a positive force
Each and every year
Guide the little ones
Show them the way
Encourage and support them
Teach them how to be brave

Forty dollars of *****
151 ***
You will find me in the alley
a drunken ***
Lights flashing in my brain
Spinning gripping my soul
Ecstacy in alcoholic rage
Writing off the page
I raise the flag
To Ira Hayes
A fallen hero
And his last days

Crumbling grey tombstone
Overgrown wild hedge
Rusted Victorian fences
Sitting on the edge


Ancient hollow moon
Resting over the sky
As lonesome empty voices
Fill the air and pass me by


The night is still
Devoid of stress
As I learn old tales
From the spirits at rest


I listen for a time
The stories to keep
Then close my eyes
With the stars to sleep

If you were granted the gift of temporary flight...

     Would you ascend...
          Just so you could feast your eyes
          on the horizon,
          beyond the confines of weather-worn tiles
          set upon unsuspecting rooftops.

     Would you take soar...
          Just so you could briefly leave the ground
          below.
          And as the land beneath you diminishes,
          all that's you tethered to your earth
          almost instantly would turn into nothing
          but specks of insignificance.

     Would you fly free...
          Just so your heart could entertain the possibility
          of being ensnared by the breathtaking
          view of the sun,
          as it rests its pompous girth upon its bed of
          clouds;
          Like a bratty king sprawled over lavish sheets.

     Would you burst through the boundary...
          That separates heaven and earth.
          Just so you could be bewitched by the full blown
          moon,
          be enthralled by the siren calls of the stars,
          and be a part of the spectacle that is the
          universe...

If you were granted the gift of momentary flight...

     Would you still ascend?
          Knowing full well that soon gravity would claim
          you with less than no pity nor remorse.
          And all that you had complacently forsaken...
          Will greet you with the harshest of punishments.



                    *I would.

Never trade your authenticity for approval
Always be the exception

Hauntingly beautiful,
music,
a room dulled with age
and yet
a princess described on
a page
my life,
the beginnings
the end
and every note sends to
me a
part of her,
beautifully haunting
hauntingly beautiful.