my condolences go out to the man
who gets everything he always wanted

ignorance is bliss is more than just a catchy phrase

the man whose every wish comes true
has to live with the knowledge
having never feels as good as wanting

while the man who has naught but his desire
will be left blissfully ignorant everyday
with hope left over for tomorrow

perfect simplicity
so seldom does visit me
that when it’s in the vicinity
I bask in divinity

I live for a line
the curve of her spine
her curves are divine
with a bottle of wine

the touch of her lips
the swing of her hips
savor the sips
of a total eclipse

Moments pass like leaves
on a windswept November day.
Beautiful and Golden
dancing merrily in the bright sunshine,
swiftly passing out of sight and out of time.
Until all that we are left with are bare branches
and memories of what once was green.

Lord please
if you can hear
humble my mind
let it not fear

Lord please
if you exist
humble my hand
unclench my fist

Lord please
if you can see
humble me heart
set my soul free

beauty is of many faces
found in many forms and places
first is seen the beauty of the face
it's the greatest at the start
but before its dead it can swell your head
and leave you naught but a broken heart
all and all a rarer find
is the beauty of the mind
it grows and flowers with each season
it’s one true love is love of reason
if this beauty grows to great
it can see the need for love too late
if too much of this you own
expect a hard thought life alone
the most amazing of all is set apart
it's the deepest beauty of the heart
traces found almost everywhere
it’s on the wind and in a prayer
you'll find it anyplace that's wild
and in the laughter of a child
its the beauty that will never fade
still found today as god first made
when this beauty you can confess
you'll find true love and happiness

I’ll be there tomorrow
at least one more time
as long as the sun comes up
and continues to shine

I’ll listen tomorrow
if your heart needs an ear
I’ll help carry your burden
and comfort your fear

I’ll kiss you tomorrow
if your lips feel neglected
I’ll lift up your chin
if you’re feeling dejected

I’ll love you tomorrow
more than I love you today
I’ll love you every tomorrow
and at least one more day

Cigarette smoke and despair
I’ve come to know the smell
It adorns the walking dead
As they haunt their waking hell

They have gathered here to die
Desperation has its price
Cigarette smoke and despair
Is the flavor of their vice

Neon lights a sirens call
Taking comfort in the glow
Cigarette smoke and despair
The last smell they’ll ever know

Everything in life ends badly, otherwise it would never end.

a rubix cube upon my desk
with half the colors matching
near a wayward garden gnome
what plots might he be hatching

contemplations fill my head
of life and all its meanings
a conservative at heart
despite my leftist leanings

someday I’ll find the leprechaun
hiding at the rainbow’s end
I’ll take that *******’s lucky charms
before he runs again

memories haunt my waking mind
not sure if they're even real
vertigo and déjà vu are all that I can feel

I think I’ll take another hit
that should finally stop the spinning
as my pet rock races Charlie Brown
the rubix cube is winning

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

If I a wayward traveler
were to rest my weary bones,
I fear I’d quickly find my name
in a garden full of stones.

So I continue trudging onward,
without regard for my direction.
Eyes forever pointed downward
by the fear of my detection.

Carrying the bags of follow travelers
despite their ever growing weight.
My steps harried ever onward
by the fear I might be late.

I can’t see my destination
but I have faith to keep me strong.
I can’t let my pace be slowed
by the fear that I am wrong.

I can’t say I quite recall
even the way this journey started
but I must have held some purpose
on that day I first departed.

So I continue trudging onward
without regard for my confusion.
This journey is about so much more
than my self-involved delusions.

If I a wayward traveler
were to rest my weary bones,
I fear I’d quickly find my name
in a garden full of stones.

I was born a butchers boy
I never lacked for meat
Purse strings tight as a bishop’s ***
My childhood lacked for sweets

My sweethearts now a butchers wife
Two lamb shanks for a ha penny
We waste our coin and copper hair
By eating sweets a plenty

The merchant comes to peddle time
The reaper dreads his arrival
Those with coin and copper hair
Can purchase their survival

I will die a butcher’s death
My sweets have sealed my fate
With empty purse and graying hair
The merchant comes to late

a pier one imports parked between
penera and penn station
a physical example of literary alliteration

Two strangers on a midnight ride
underneath the moonlight pale.
Two strangers who just by chance
are passing in the night.

One smile, one glance
a subconscious movement of the heart.
Two strangers just with flashing eyes
share a lifetime in one look.

The road between them gathers miles
their destinations leagues apart.
Two strangers shared a midnight love
that will live forever in their heart.

there’s no life in a photograph
no real spark in a camera flash
real life is found in 3D space
right in front of your down turned face

real friends don’t live in an online book
and care about more than what quizzes you took
real support is hugs and real words we say
you can’t just click someone to a brighter day

real love exists on god’s green earth
but it can’t be found with a google search
there is life to be lived in the real sunshine
because life isn't lived if it’s lived online

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

we all stand at the threshold
to the doorway of tomorrow
on the other side
awaits a wondrous ride
where dreams are sure to follow

imagination soon set free
from mere pictures in our head
our thoughts made real
our hearts made feel
inhibitions will be shed

the future has embraced us
our dreams are sure to follow
eyes made of light
see wondrous sights
through the doorway of tomorrow

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.

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

I am dying
The thought occurs to me every now and then
Jolting my psyche like a bucket of cold water on a sleeping drunk

I just turned 32 this year
I can already feel the cold tendrils of deaths advance
Some days I can even smell its putrid breath on the back of my neck

I’m not dying of anything immediate
No nothing as glamorous as a drug overdose or a gunshot wound
My death more than likely won’t make national news

I am dying
It is a slow and pitiful death
Caused by a lethal mix of age, apathy and neglect

Every day I poison myself a little more
Complex carbohydrates and processed sugars in every meal
Caffeine carcinogens and aspartame to wash the poison down

I can feel my muscle waste away
As I sit 10 hours a day answering the same inane questions
Over and over again to earn the right to what’s left of my meager existence

I am dying
This must be the case because I am certainly not living
At best I am merely surviving, simply continuing to exist

Maybe tomorrow or maybe in 20 years
Even if I quit my job and start an organic vegan diet
Even if I exercise, meditate and confess my sins

I am dying

am I clinically depressed
or am I just crazy

chemically imbalanced
motivationally challenged
or am I just lazy

attention deficit disorder
hyperactive distracted
interactive media addiction

progressive techno optimist
idealistic unrealistic
future obsessive affliction

am I terminally indecisive
or am I just manic

in need of professional help
to just get over myself
or should I just panic

am I clinically depressed
or am I just crazy

the color of our skin
the nation of our home
the religion of our father
all things that we've outgrown

we all share a fragile planet
in an endless cosmic sea
all that matters anymore
is our shared humanity

The river is ever flowing,
onward to the sea.
Why should I care about the river?
It cares not to notice me.

I am just a humble stone,
caught up in wayward currents.

The sun is ever shining,
it fills the eastern sky.
I glimpse in now and then
as the river floats me by.

I am just a humble stone,
caught up in wayward currents.

Someday I’ll find a river bank,
I can call my very own.
But until that day comes,
I am just a humble stone.

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

bleary eyed and weary *****
tendons creak and muscles groan
stomach grumbles and lungs lament
every shred of will is rent

dreams are beating down the door
face keeps falling towards the floor
the war against the night is lost
the darkness comes despite cost

two bolts of lightning
flash at the very same time
you streaking your way
and me streaking mine

for the briefest of moments
together we lit up the sky
then the whole world went dark
with no one left to ask why

that brilliant light is gone forever
all that’s left are cloudy skies
and your afterglow in the lonely dark
at night when I close my eyes

I didn't mean to make your heart break.
You must believe it was a mistake.
I couldn't help but have my way,

when that
red feather boa
looked my way.

I didn't mean to let your heart break.
You must believe it was a bad day.
Please baby just don’t walk away.

how many
words will it
take to say

I didn't mean to make your heart break.

when an inherently talented singer
steps out under the bright lights
and bares her soul in song
some would say that takes courage

when a genetically gifted athlete
leaves his heart on the field
and leads his team to victory
some would say he was brave

but I would say true courage
is stepping out under those bright lights
or running onto that field of competition
even in the face of almost certain failure

yes I believe true courage
is speaking up when no one’s listening
playing your heart out even when you can’t win
and standing up again even if you fall

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

a young man
heart pounding in his chest
back pressed against cold stone
body covered in cold sweat
peers around the corner
eyes try to pierce the dark

a mother
finger tapping on the counter
hand reaching for the phone
feet twitching to the clock
stares out the kitchen window
eyes try to pierce the dark

a young girl
head buried in her forearm
breath held inside her chest
body filled with anticipation
looks up from her countdown
eyes try to pierce the dark

How I miss your laughing smile
When the sky turns dark
And the cold winds howl

I miss your warm and loving touch
When the weight of the world
Proves to be too much

I miss the us we used to be
When our hearts were young
And our souls were free

I miss the dreams we used to dream
When the world was as simple
As it used to seem

cushions make a queer backstop
after five long years of stone
friends and family fray the nerves
after five long years alone

a backyard barbecue a battle
when the fight is finally won
still he fights to find the joy
in the laughter of his son

a bonafide war hero
not as brave as he might seem
when he can’t escape the feeling
that coming home was just a dream

Man is a curious animal
who afraid of his own mortality
went and conjured up spirituality.

Which begs a curious question
if religion our fears meant to quell
why then go,
and conjure up hell.

I can faintly feel the gentle breeze
That will soon become the whirlwind

Standing on the precipice
Perched above it all
Quiet fills the starry night
In preparation for the fall

The winds pick up
The lightning strikes
The quiet night is broken

Birds take wing
A church bell rings
A whispered word is spoken

Raindrops caress the darkness
Reflecting soft moonlight

She sobs my name
I’ve lost the game
Goodbye is all but fated

As she turns
Sadness burns
Tears come unabated

Howling wind and thunderous roar
But I hear not inside my pain
Fallen from such lofty heights
Teardrops drowned in rain