as the sun softly sets
south of Sarasota bay
the gentle waves whisper
and the palm leaves sway

a rainbow of fire
lights the clouds as they pass
and rekindles my memories
of the years that have past

sand scrapes my skin
sea salt air fills my soul
the ocean at sunset
is where my hearts whole

Life is a game
that noone will want to play with you
if you go around pointing it out.

I'm not sure when it happened.
When I stopped moving foward.
Surely it couldn't always have
been this way.

Did I get here by accident?

Somewhere on the road to middle age,
I pulled my sensible sedan
to the side of the road.

Sitting under a shady overpass
content to watch the world
pass me by.

I can't do this.

I can't sit still.

Life is movement,
growth,
change,
and struggle.

To stop moving forward
to stop struggling
to stop growing
to stop changing

is to stop living!

of all the million moments
that make up a life,
the ones I shared with you
will be what flash before my eyes
at the end of it all.

a poem for the perturbed
partially peeved
marginally miffed
indirectly disturbed

not for those in love
not for loss or for longing
not for the haughty highbrow
half hazardly happy saps
that drown you in their
dizzily delerious
words about joy and wonder

this poem is for the average joe
joe sixpac joe normal
kicked back, laid back
ignoble informal

working class
pain in the ***
foul mouthed, burnout
college drop out
that doesn't have two
sweet words to rub together

this poem is for me

and you... if you want it.

a whisper, a spark
is there something in the dark
a glance, a smile
a dance could be worthwhile
heart skips, mind races
is there something more than faces
a requiem for a daydream
with a deck devoid of aces

how can I be there for her
when noone was there for me
how can I teach her things
that I have never learned
how can I show her love
that I have never felt

beautiful things can be
built from broken pieces

I'll kiss her boo boo's
while hiding my scars
fight the monsters under her bed
and lock my demons in the closet
I'll be the father she needs
and never the father I fear

every Monday morning
I think about your smile
i let the world disolve around me
and daydream for awhile

on Tuesday afternoons
I like to linger on your laugh
I close my eyes a moment
and let the memories take me back

on Friday nights
I sit quietly and stare
my body at the bar with friends
my mind running fingers through your hair

and every other moment
my conscious minds awake
my heart whispers out your name
the only sound my heart can make

I question
not because I need the answer
just to hear the sound of your voice
see your lips move and your eyes shine
as you speak a reply

I fall
not because I can’t keep my balance
just to feel the warmth of your skin
the slender curve of your fingers
as your hand catches mine

dreams know the truth
that you hide deep inside
and they won’t let you live
with a life full of lies

dreams know the truth
and each night they’ll remind you
of all the things in your past
that you can’t put behind you

they burn in the spark
of your secret desire
and each night as you sleep
they rekindle that fire

dreams know the truth
that you keep deep inside
you can lie to yourself
but your dreams won’t abide

if god does indeed exist
i doubt he will be able to hear us
until we grow enough
that we can look him in the eye

rainbow colored  butterfly
floating through my dreams
delicate and fair
full of life and rare

you flutter at my periphery
daring me to touch
always just beyond my grasp

better if I should never hold you
wrap you up inside my palm
within my arms enfold you

for then my dream would end
and I would awaken
with blood and butterfly wings
stuck between my fingers

eyes water
throat burns
heart wrenches
mind churns

know it’s a weakness
but can’t hold it back
fight it too hard
whole world turns black

emotion?
empathy?
frailty?
strength?

have to **** it
that place inside
that feels so much
it breaks the sky

a real man today
for the very first time
everyone knows
real men don’t cry

You may never touch the stars,
        but your life will be infinitely better
if you reach for them anyway.

I feel safer when it's dark
just knowing your nearby
that I might have within my reach
a little piece of sky

you light my way when I get lost
brighten up my day without a cost

the dark would overtake me
if ever we should part
you are my flashlight
you light up my heart

if you leave your happiness up to chance
         you are likely only to be happy
fifty percent of the time

You are only as strong as your ability
to lift yourself up off the ground.

You are only as wise as your ability
to see the world as it is
not as you want it to be.

You are only as free as your ability
to take a step towards your hearts desire
and appreciate whatever it is you find there.

I an orphaned prince, in the musings of my mind
often daydreamed in my hardship of the treasures I would find.
For fate had surely dealt me, the cruelest of beginnings
so that in that glorious future I might appreciate my winnings.

My life ticked off every box in the stories that were written,
about the orphaned princes who spent their childhoods hidden.
Someday there’d be a wizard with a sword that he would hand me
and he would take me as his ward and restore my royal standing.

I survived my evil stepfather, who had cursed me with his name
and I suffered through my childhood, but the wizard never came.
So I saddled up my lame nag and bid farewell to my old life
knowing deep within my heart fate would reward me for my strife.

After travelling countless miles my eyes have finally seen the truth
that my heart was telling lies to help me make it through my youth.
Evil deeds aren’t always punished and the just don’t always win
and there are no magic words to solve the trouble that you’re in.

Just because it rains today does not mean the sun will shine tomorrow
and life doesn’t hold a secret debt  to repay you for your sorrow.
All that a man is promised is the moment in its passing
and to live whatever life that he is capable of grasping.

years ago I know not exactly when
my journey came to a quiet end
I retired here to these spacious halls
to live out my days inside these walls
I’ll tarry here forever more
while life goes on outside my door

I had my days beneath the sun
the sun has set but my days go on
life’s river flows on towards the sea
but I find myself upon the beach
and whatever life was left to live
has flowed well, beyond my reach

Life is like a broken car stereo,
on a hundred year road trip.

For the first few years everything is great.
You have the sun on your face, the wind in your hair
and you are hearing every song for the first time.
All the roads you are driving are familiar and close to home,
you don’t have a care in the world.

Around about year 13
you start to drive into unfamiliar territory.
The **** falls off on the death metal station.
You find yourself mad at the world for no reason
so you forget about the songs of your youth and
just go with it.

Making a pit stop at year 22
You find that pesky **** under the seat.
You start searching for the happy stations
you recall from the beginning of the trip,
but by this time you have picked up passengers
and they have taken over any station decisions.

Cruising through year 30
You decide to get your road trip in order.
You have preset all the stations that everyone listens to
and come up with a schedule so that everything is fair.
But at year 34 you cross state lines and the stations change,
leaving you with unhappy passengers and the daunting task
of figuring out the stereo all over again.

Obeying the speed limit around year 45
You finally have more control of the music of your trip.
Most of your passengers have stereos of their own now.
Unfortunately your stereo has started to wear out
and your favorite stations only come in clear occasionally.
You suffer through the static with the hopes
that the station will stay clear just long enough
to hear your favorite song.

Looking for a rest stop close to year 80
You can barely hear the music anymore and
that’s if the stereo will even turn on these days.
No one is left to disagree with you over the stations
so the radio stays permanently tuned to your old favorites.
You find yourself pretty sure you have heard all the songs
on the radio and are really looking forward to your destination.

The radio breaks close to year 100
As you get out of the car and head into the light of your destination,
all the songs of your journey play to remind you of the
people you have loved and the places you have been.

never feel guilty for not doing something,
                                   that you still have time to do

If you try to save everyone
              eventually, you lose yourself.

middle of july
sunset on a hazy summer day
we lay exhausted and damp
concrete still warm from midday sun

a picturesque memory
deep summer green grass
meticulously manicured
trees in full summer plumage

light from the magic hour
reflecting off your sky blue eyes
the moment bursting with tension

there are words I could have said
to rewrite our entire future lives
but when I searched for them
all that I could find was silence

A part of me has passed,
but I’m remiss to grieve it.
In fact I think it best,
should I decide to leave it.

What part of me is gone?
You may have thought to wonder.
Many hours I have lost,
sitting silently to ponder.

Even knowledge of the loss,
first took me by surprise.
Whatever part of me has left,
has left without goodbyes.

I guess it matters not,
what is lost is soon forgotten.
Why spare a passing thought,
of how it’s loss was first begotten.

I have lived myself into a box
I can hear people talking and laughing on the outside
sometimes I can even see light through the cracks in the walls
but no matter how hard I try to climb
throw my self against the invisible walls
shout into the silence that surrounds my heart
I am all alone in the dark

life doesn't come with second chances
there are no doors that open back
we miss the paths that lead us forward
when we focus on the past

let old bridges keep on burning
you can't keep the world from turning
just keep your eyes toward tomorrow
today goes by too fast

The only thing separating a profound thought from a ridiculous one is the audience.

The truly courageous are those that tell the same truth no matter who is listening.