A moment takes up no time
A moment takes up no space
Infinite moments disappear instantly
because anything times zero is zero;
Yet
In a moment lives begin
and end
In a moment love blossoms
and dies
and
In a moment
eternities collide

I’m Used to Ugly

When physical rejection is as familiar as
Morning coffee

When nice clothes are an unneeded luxury

When the after version of your morning ablutions
No longer result in an uplifting, “You look good”

You get used to ugly.

When you have 2 sets of nice clothes - that are years old

When you do not go anywhere that requires nice things

When your job is semi-professional

You get used to ugly

When your self-deprecating humor is more true than not

When you encourage your spouse to do things without you

When being alone is a better choice than being out there

You get used to ugly

I'll share my thoughts
You'll hear my words
and see my deeds.

My love and pain
Are mine alone

There
Apart from the others
Broken, Flawed

Beautifully imperfect

A rare find

For one perceptive enough to appreciate it

The perfect gift

You know, the one who never turns in his work
You know, the one who challenges you at every turn
You know, the one who never seems to listen
You know the one who’s late on Monday and skips most Fridays
You know, the one who aces every test
You know, the one who reminds you…

Of you.

He’s a behavior problem
He’s really smart
He’ll get you killed
He’ll save your life

He’s really smart
He’s too aggressive
He’ll save your life
Look at that face

He’s too aggressive
We’re going to war
Look at that face
He’s absolutely fearless

We’re going to war
He’ll get you killed
He’s absolutely fearless
I was a behavior problem too

A Note From Exile

I cannot go home.
Rather I cannot go where my family lives - that place ceased to be home some time ago.

I was a soldier during the Cold War and my neighbors there have become more like East German loyalists than American citizens.

They surrender their rights without question
They are eager to call out community members on social media for ‘social distancing violations’.
They use shame and ridicule to control others
They applaud the police for keeping children from playing in gigantic public parks
They trust politicians who ignore public defecation and drug use to look out for ’the public good'
They allow themselves to be labeled ‘essential’ and ’non-essential’
They carry ’traveling papers’ in the event that they are stopped by the police
They propagate the most inflammatory statistics without ever validating their veracity.
Because…
They heard it on CNN.

So I will remain 1098 miles away
Zooming
Skyping
Facetiming
Until the contagion subsides

And then I’ll return
To a completely different world.

Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul
until the climate changed and then he raged
and became a real a-hole.
Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say
Because there is no snow, anywhere we go
Al Gore said it would be this way.
There must have been some carbon in those cars and trucks we saw,
Because we drove them all around, the snow began to thaw....
Ooooooo
Frosty the snowman was alive as he could be,
Wheezing here and there, melting everywhere,
Because of CFCs.
Thumpety, thump, thump
Thumpety, thump, thump
Look at Frosty moan
Thumpety, thump, thump
Thumpety, thump, thump
Because of the thin ozone!

I am not ill
How am I responsible for your illness?
I am free
How am I responsible for your imprisonment?
I work
How am I responsible for your struggles?
I am content
How am I responsible for your disquiet?
I am my own master
How am I responsible for your servitude?
I am disciplined
How am I responsible for your chaos?
I am strong
How am I responsible for your weakness?
I am resilient
How am I responsible for your fragility?
I am faithful
How am I responsible for your infidelity?

My strengths
Like my faults
Are my own
And yours are yours

Sometimes we see threads of a life we might have led
We pick them up and follow them for awhile
Until the frayed ends lead to nowhere

In the small house down the block...

Hundreds of tangerine air fresheners
hang from the ceiling.

Cars come and go
At all hours
Furtive movement
Car to house
House to car

In the dim light
bills are traded for small baggies
Bits of chemical provide relief.
Temporarily

Nearby...
Children play
Happy
Ignorant of the filth that surrounds them

In the small house down the block...

Plastic buckets
Chemicals and bleach
Hollow-eyed adults use long sticks
to stir the brew
Fiberglass respirators and rubber gloves protect them
There is no God here.

Nearby...
Children play
Happy, smiling
Curious

In the small house down the block...

Skeletal adults are strewn
randomly on floors    couches   and     chairs
Sleeping the non-sleep of the drugged undead.
Cigarettes and blunts burn in ashtrays.
Roaches and rats feast
on ignored food

Nearby...
A child challenges a rat for pizza
She brushes off the bugs
Hunger overtaking revulsion
She bites down
Weekends are bad
Monday she'll eat again
at school
Where she's fed
her only reliable meals.
-- she hates Spring Break --

In the small house down the block...

A toddler bobbles around
He looks into this
He looks into that
Curious about the world around him

A bucket with bubbles
That's fun.
The bubbles are deep
He leans over
He reaches
down, down, down
SPLASH!!!

It must have been the sirens
that caused them to stir.
It wasn't his agonized screams
It wasn't the girl's wailing and tears
Huh? Wha?
They rise
Unfocused, unaware, unconcerned

3:19 PM

In the small house down the block...
A 17 month old boy dies of chemical burns
To the eyes, nose, trachea, and lungs

Nearby...
The skeletal adults are angry
that they will receive $357.84 less
in welfare payments next month.

It’s that time of life when….

Your friends’ deaths didn’t come too soon
Your body is no longer as reliable as it was
Your dog dies and you wonder if it’s fair to adopt another
You smile at the first timers asking for senior discounts
You concern yourself far more with comfort than fashion
Words like cantankerous and curmudgeon fit much more snugly
Events in your lifetime appear with increasing frequency on the History Channel
Popular culture is completely unrelatable
All of the food choices you make contain the words “Low” and “Reduced”
Your energy is more potential than kinetic
Teenagers refer to your friends as Nana and Grandpa
Actuarial tables are not your friends
Your investments transition from growth to preservation
Your bucket list takes on a genuine sense of urgency
Because every experience may be the last

Her cheeks golden apples
Voice a hushed whisper
She smells like coconut Coppertone and sunshine
Her cotton candy lipgloss is sticky on my lips
Tanned skin salty from the surf
Smooth and soft like a puppy’s belly
Blonde hair sun-streaked, warm
Stomachs flip-flopping with teen-crush happiness

Gotta go…
Why?
I know.
Hate it though.

So we linger
To watch the surf swallow the sun

Vacant eyes betray
Cognition as absent as
His successor’s soul

I mistook your kindness
for kindness.
I was wrong.

Despair
It roils beneath the surface
Agitating
Provoking
Demanding
Hating
Me

It tells me that I ****
It tells me that I am worthless
It tells me that I should die
That I NEED to die

It feeds upon the dark things that I think about myself
When it hungers too deeply,
It explodes outward
exposing it’s hideous face
But mostly I can contain it under a façade of intellectualism and superficial positivity

But it is always there
Waiting to be fed

In a caravan
Driving a beaten up Humvee
Down the road we go
pulling security (Pow, Pow, Pow)
See the villagers
hiding behind donkeys
Now it’s time to hit the gas cause
they’re shooting right at me

Oh, 7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way
Oh it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today (Hey!)
7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way,
Oh it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today.

Driving down the road
On a routine resupply
Did the bomb squad
clear this route
cause I don’t want to die (Hi, Hi, Hi)
Checking with HQ
to make sure it is clear
The 2nd Lieutenant in the TOC
says, “There’s nothing to fear.”

Oh, 7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way
Oh it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today (Hey!)
7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way,
Oh, it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today.

To the tune of 'The Dreidl Song"
(Can't leave out my Jewish Friends)

Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
You’re made out of C-4
Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
I put you out once more

I put in place a Claymore
For our security
And when I squeeze the clacker
Ball bearings they will see

Oh, Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
You make a big kaboom
Claymore, Claymore, Claymore,
You send them to their doom.

On our little Claymore,
it says ‘Front Toward Enemy’
And when they pull the tripwire
Their Paradise they'll see!!

Oh, Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
You’re made out of C-4
Claymore, Claymore, Claymore
I put you out once more.

I failed you and you and you and you and you
I let you and you and you and you down
I disappointed you and you and you and you
I was hurtful to you and you and you
I lied to you and you and you and you and you and you
I cannot fix these things.
I can only apologize

Holy
Sacrifice
Purifies the profane
Our undeserved redeemer is
Sacred

I cannot go home.
Rather I cannot go where my family lives - that place ceased to be home some time ago.
I was a soldier during the Cold War and my neighbors there have become more like East German loyalists than American citizens.
They surrender their rights without question
They are eager to call out community members on social media for ‘social distancing violations’.
They use shame and ridicule to control others
They applaud the police for keeping children from playing in gigantic public parks
They trust politicians who ignore public defecation and drug use to look out for ’the public good'
They allow themselves to be labeled ‘essential’ and ’non-essential’
They carry ’traveling papers’ in the event that they are stopped by the police
They propagate the most inflammatory statistics without ever validating their veracity.
Because…
They heard it on CNN.

So I will remain 1098 miles away
Zooming
Skyping
Facetiming
Until the contagion subsides

And then I’ll return
To a completely different world.

Because of you
I taught myself
Not to cry....

The dark doesn’t scare me anymore.
I don’t see your face in my dreams.
The panic attacks are gone.
The night terrors are too.
Often, I walk through
that park. On my
way to spit
on your
grave

“Sweet Dreams,”
Mom would say
when she sent me to bed

But…


My dreams have never been sweet

In the sleeping otherworld
I am despised reviled hated pursued maligned chastised excoriated mocked and scorned
I am lost abandoned confused terrified and helpless
Even familiar places and comforting faces
Become hideous antimatter versions of themselves

No, Mom, there are no sweet dreams for me
There never have been
I just never told you.

You're fortunate that I'm not
Who you say
That I am....

I’ve tried fitting in to your world
and I’ve become old and sick and weak
I’ve respected your ways
and I’ve lost my own
Now, I’m watching myself die in this cage
No longer.
Barbarians create peace – through strength
Savages are fearless, relentless
Unrefined men speak truth
Coarse men value deeds above words
Unorthodox men are unrestrained by limited thinking
Warriors defend the innocent and uphold honor
These are my kin

And it is to them that I return

Lemon VW Beetle
Pink and green Polo shirt seatcovers
Hippie flowers and surf shop stickers
And her Confirmation Rosary
glimmering in the fading light
She waves
“Call you later.”
The sunset is beautiful

PCH is busy this time of day
Surfers, commuters, tourists
and local kids, like us,
going our own ways
The sunset is beautiful.

Sirens pierce the twilight calm

There are conflicting reports
But
All include the words
Rollover.  Ejected.  Fatality.

Through my tears
I stare at the ocean
The sunset is beautiful

His grapefruit-shaped head was just visible above the elephant grass; an ideal target for enemy snipers.
Rainy season bathed the area with an intoxicating petrichor,
inviting him to forget the danger... for a moment.
The new medication caused his genuphobia to subside, but thoughts of knees, terrible horrible knees, still stalked his mind.
Would he live to see his birthday tomorrow?
The fates were ambiguous

I remember lingering with the boys
long after the decent people had left
drinking to your memory
I remember your coffin being lowered into the ground;
slowly, reverently.
I remember the folded flag, given to your mom by the Colonel;
tears streaming down both of their faces.
I remember the rifle salute - with M60s
I remember escorting your coffin into the chapel;
the Battalion at attention to honor you.
I remember the adrenaline filled chaotic night, the sounds of battle, and the radio message that you were amongst the fallen.

But I don't want to remember you that way,
so I close my eyes and dream back...

To the moment that you arrived in Battalion - wide-eyed and scared to death.
To the announcement that you were joining weapons squad and how the senior squad members tested your mettle every moment of every day.
And how you met every challenge.
To the long days and nights that we trained and worked and soldiered and suffered together; and how you grew to become a Ranger and a Brother.
I will remember your raw strength and endurance and how you would smile the biggest when life ****** the most.
I will remember you this weekend and the boys will drink to your memory once again.

RLTW!

Vea la bellisima y la oportunidad
He sees the beauty and its potential
Vea las flores en el lodo
He sees the flowers in the mud
Vea la felicidad en el dolor
He sees the happiness in the pain
La paz en el ruido
The peace in the chaos

Cada dia toca la tristeza
La pobreza
Pero su orgullo no reduzca
Porque...
Vea la bellisima en la feisima
La felicidad en el dolor
La paz en el ruido
Las flores en el lodo
Es su hogar
Y
Vive para salvar
Cada dia

At long last
Relief.
It embraced her.
Welcomed her.
A warm wave.
Taking her cares and worries away,
one drip
at a time.

She watched the drips mingle with the bath water.
Dissipate. Disappear.
Slowly replaced by the peaceful emptiness of the Void.

Halfway. She knew that she was halfway.
The edges of her vision blurred.
Her breathing slowed.
She was slipping from here to there.
From chaos to peace.

Then...
Crashing, screaming, tugging
Peace replaced by frenzy
Solitude by cacophony.

The tranquility that was so close
pushed away by liters of O positive.
How she hated this and THEM.

"We've got her back," She heard someone say.

"I don't want to BE back," she screamed inside her head.

Was she ashamed of the ******* that she bore?
I’ll never know
Was she ashamed that her children favored a man she despised?
I’ll never know
Was she ashamed of her childhood poverty?
Was she ashamed of her physical infirmity?
Was she ashamed of her educational insufficiency?
Was she ashamed of her family disunity?
I’ll never know

She carried an unyielding burden of shame
Its roots
remain buried with her
forever

It’s a glass half full
It’s a light in the distance
It’s the rising sun
It’s being away from home and hearing the language you speak
And it’s a dollar you find lying on the street

It’s 8 and a half yards on a third and 9
It’s a small tug on the end of the line
It’s writing a poem and finding a rhyme
And it’s the day she said, “Yes”, she’d go out with you one more time

It’s the half an hour before the exam
It’s the gallon of gas to get home
It’s when success follows success and you know
that you can do it alone

It’s finding a flashlight that works
And driving to the beach in the rain
It’s an all-night diner
And New Year’s champagne

It’s a homemade dinner
A dog’s wagging tail
It’s a small act of kindness
in a world of fails…

They say he could smell death coming
as it skulked the woods
They say he’d follow the scent through the mountains
to where a grieving family stood.

They say he’d keep his distance
until invited in
And with their grim permission
He’d eat the dead one’s sins

They’d give a crusty loaf
and a bowl of homebrewed ale
And Barlow commenced to pawn his soul
To save this one’s from Hell

Three times Barlow passed the loaf
o’er the dead one’s ashen face
And with each somber passing
He vowed to take their place

He uttered words of binding
He whispered vile oaths
He invoked angels and demons
He made offerings to both

He passed the bread and ale
‘round the body seven times
He consumed the tainted host
And muttered, “This one’s sins are now mine.”


“He shall not walk again.
He will sleep within his grave.
His soul is not tormented.
His spirit has been saved.”

Barlow then departed
Moving slowly into the gloom
Like a fading apparition
Returning to its tomb

Mountain custom says
that sin eaters must be paid
Or they will return the sins
To the souls that they have saved

So families leave a token
made of silver, copper, or gold
At a crossroads in the mountains
Near the place where sins are sold

Today

They screamed
They mocked
They demeaned
They berated
They castigated
They excoriated
They hollered
They yelled
They scolded
They criticized
They condemned me to Hell

And when I shot them
they died

Flying
Crying
Multiplying
Terrifying
Shrapnel flying, burned children crying
Deaths multiplying, the world's terrifying

Right and left
Up and down
Clockwise
Counterclockwise
I can't see it

Again and
Again and
Again and
    Again

THEY DON’T FIT

I feel my jaw clench
The muscles in my neck tighten
My heart racing
I chew my lips raw

I CANNOT MAKE THIS WORK!

I don’t need to look at the clock
I can feel the second hand spinning in my brain
Faster for me than the others

I WON’T GET THIS DONE IN TIME!

Sweat and tears dampen my face
My table is a mess of materials
None of the parts fit for me the way they do for everyone else
I hate myself and my useless brain

I’M GOING TO FAIL
I’M GOING TO FAIL

"Time’s up
Turn in your projects"

I AM A FAILURE

Again

Do you ever feel like your soul is locked up in a small box
Do you ever feel like that box is placed inside of a deep cave
Do you ever feel like that cave is sealed up with dirt and stone
Do you ever feel like that cave is filling up with frigid water
Do you ever feel like it’s getting hard to breathe
Do you ever feel like it’s time to stop breathing….

(To The Tune of Winter Wonderland)
In the city there are people
In the country there are people
It's winter time
It's winter time
In December it is usually winter time.
In the desert, there are people
On an island, there are people
It's winter time
It's winter time
Unless you live in the Southern Hemisphere
We don't want to exclude Australians
From our inoffensive winter song
It's just that they're experiencing summer
And their days are
really, really, really long
La, la, laaaaa
La, la, la, laaaa
La, la, la,
La, la, la, laaaa
It's winter time
It's winter time
In December, it is usually winter time.

Left, Right, Left
Mile after mile
We flood
Feet blistered, bleeding

Mile after mile
Heads down
Bleeding, blistered feet
On a long dirt road to nowhere

Heads down
Driving rain
On an endless road to nowhere
Jeeps, HIDE!

Driving rain
Live or die
We flood
To freedom

You would find this donut
only at the day-old bakery
on the depressed side of town
On the bottom shelf
in the back

It’s unevenly frosted
With sprinkles tossed haphazardly around
It is neither appetizing nor revolting
It’s…
Confusing

It’s inviting and bitter

distasteful and captivating

complex and mundane



Moment to moment
Bite to bite

You can’t decide

Whether to try again

Or discard it forever

Donkeys bray, are you listening?
In the mountains, rocks are glistening,
A desolate sight, we're patrolling tonight
Dodging bullets in East Waziristan
Gone away, is Osama
Now we're stuck with Obama
And one MRE
Between you and me
Patrolling in frozen Waziristan
In the mountains we can drive our Humvees,
Watching out for hidden IEDs
Insurgents shoot and yell
'Allahu Akbar'
Until Spectre’s mini-guns are seen
Then we’ll watch, as she fires
and helps fulfill
martyrdom desires
What a beautiful sight, lighting the night
Miniguns in East Waziristan.

Who Are You?

You are the illegal alien who burns my country’s flag
You are the teenager who breaks my shop’s windows
You are the one in the hoodie who spat on the Veteran in a wheelchair
You are the **** who hit my daughter, the cop, with a brick
You are the one who firebombed the courthouse
You are the rioter who put me out of a job
You are the ‘demonstrator’ who vandalized my apartment building
You are the activist who looted the stores
You are the gunman who kills dozens of people every week in Chicago
You are the ******* who hobnobs with the rich and famous –
Because you are too.

I don’t care who you vote for.
I despise you for what you do.

Ancient words
Conceal my prayers
From hostile modern ears

When you are free, you will fail
When you are free, you will offend
When you are free, you will be offended
When you are free, you will get lost
When you are free, you will fail
When you are free, you will make stupid mistakes
When you are free, you will hurt yourself
When you are free, you will be challenged by others
When you are free, you trade subservience and victimhood for independence and responsibility.

Are you tough enough to be free?

Away on deployment
The dirt for a bed
A young 11 Bravo
Lays down his bald head
The birds in the sky
patrol where he lay
The young Airborne Ranger
survived one more day.
The bad guys are crawling,
they’re reaching the wire
But our Airborne Ranger,
he meets them with fire.
He detonates claymores,
He fires his M-4
The bad guys retreat,
They want it no more.
The Rangers pursue
and mow them down
They kick down doors
throughout the small town
Not one of the terrorists
greets the next day
The Airborne Rangers made them pay.

Yesterday

Our fingers interlaced
Our hearts intertwined
Our lives interlocked
We sat in church
We soaked up the sun
We traveled up the Coast
We prayed at the Mission
We had brunch in Ojai
We shared salad at the harbor
We danced and played and loved each other
Your smile filled my soul
Yesterday was 30 years ago
I’m sorry that I failed you

Our home is just a house
without
you

Your children mourn you
Your husband grieves you
Your sisters’ tears tumble
At the memory of you.
I maintain a silent vigil
At the back of the church
Having felt the loss of you
Far longer than they

Alex the Goddess of Sport wields a lacrosse stick menacing all who enter the crease
Ben is the Waffle God, protector of the butter and syrup
Caitlin is the Goddess of whimsy adding mirth to all she touches
Daniel brings the rain and gloom
Emma looms quietly in the stacks guarding the fantasy fiction
Finn the Demigod of Sloth doesn’t do much at all
Gregorius is the Master of Letters, his countenance is exacting
Hannah rules fashion, her judgment is fierce
Isabelle finds friends for the lonely and lost
Jack is an academic Titan, the ruler of grades, ensures A’s at all cost
Katie rules art, all of the drawing and paint
Lana protects the good, the quiet little Saints
Mindi is the Goddess of…. No one really knows what she does
Nora guides the Orchestra with a golden baton
Olivia the Healer, nurtures the sick
Phuong the Geometer knows all of the angles
Q’Andre is the Messenger he rules the halls
Rohan the PE God is in charge of the *****
Sarah the Studious supervises homework
Teresa guides the students on and off buses
Uddai the quiet one wanders the night
Valerie is the morning Goddess who turns on the lights
William conducts the choir with a gravelly voice
Xander the disciplinarian issues consequences
Yara remains outside spying the grounds
Zoë the wise helps students make good decisions