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An image of strength and courage,
from a man of lowly means;
Taught me so much about life's trials,
and how music can wash it clean.

He stood on our sidewalk's corner,
while he played his saxophone;
Sometimes walking through the streets,
on a mission he followed alone.

A former soldier who'd lost his sight,
in his service during World War II;
And as folks would drop coins in his cup,
he'd often play their favorite tunes.

I watched him hold his head up high,
as he sported the red, white and blue;
His soulful melodies made me teary-eyed,
through his heart so clear and true.

'Back in the day' there was little relief,
for returning soldiers hurt and maimed;
I'd like to believe we can do much more,
to put an end to our country's shame !
Hail all veterans...may your recovery be swift and rewarding !
Famous or infamous...a worldly stance,
hungering for that magical dance;
Bereft of love one chases the crown,
but often the planet turns upside down.

While followed by interloping sycophants,
honored with glory and financial status;
You're digging a hole within your heart,
still desperately clinging to sanity's part.

Then watching it all simply disappear,
when those 'hungry' folks retreat to the rear;
An abundance of riches had ruled before,
now there's no path to settle the score.

Gone are all your family and friends,
who would have remained until the end;
But they were cast out by your very hand,
was this the life you truly had planned ?

Well now you can feel the limelight's curse,
depicting how life could grow so terse;
You're shining one day then fading the next,
for sadly, the reign of fame disconnects.
A cautionary tale...with success comes money and power...but don't lose sight of your humble roots !
How the laughter rang out through the streets,
singing our praises in hopeful song;
We gathered together to raise the flag,
and praise the country where we belong.

Grasping one another's hands,
hugging each other tightly;
As if a dream awakened us to reality,
both daily and nightly.

We were just children but we always knew,
the future would shine for us
Red, white and blue...
Yet now...can we see the light ?
Democracy seems an endless fight.

The need for a promise to be fulfilled,
the need for a love that's cherished;
We will continue to demonstrate,
that there's no room for bigotry and hate.

Our finest hours may have dimmed,
we're paying for all that we've sinned;
But look up to the sky...stop wondering why,
Simply open your heart to a world torn apart.
Perhaps...we'll sing a song of freedom,
amidst the clamor and sorrow,
There will be a tomorrow...for everyone to share !
thoughts on the future of our world....I'm growing very concerned !
To and from the bar in a drunken stupor,
not knowing or caring if I live or die;
My self-worth descends to the lowest level,
while obsessing on the tears I've yet to cry.

Back home again I face an empty page,
no words but my own name and a silly title;
Exhaustion peaks at noon while coffee perks,
but maybe just a touch of scotch to settle .

I feel as If I'm crawling deep within,
an abyss of more self-pity and endless fears;
My senses dulled by alcohol won't revive,
until the soulless spirits disappear.

Looking out the window to the night,
as the harvest moon glows gently in the sky;
And pour my cup of coffee as I gaze,
at this cosmic miracle shining before my eyes.

The darkness seems to halt then dissipate,
bringing hope this stardust scene would last forever;
Then facing scrawls of words which lay before me,
I'm aware the time for change is now or never.
I saw the film "The Lost Weekend" with Ray Milland, an "oldie but goody" on Turner Classics, and I wrote this based on the character's personal struggles with the demons of alcoholism. Mr. Milland won an Academy Award for his performance which was, indeed, mesmerizing.
As I stroll along the wayward path,
soured with wicked energy;
Which pours its fateful music,
allowing no road to symmetry.

The scene so dreadfully pale and white,
now wet with the drooping elm leaves;
My kerchief tied around my neck,
in the umbrella of quiet reprieve.

The planet grew surviving blasts,
its voices calling out to me;
I never knew the honor bound,
remained alone yet breathing free.

Looking back to pain and hurt,
feeling cleansed among the shadows;
In tumultuous gusts of eerie winds,
the precursors which deny tomorrows.

It only happens in such dreams,
the fiery depths of many hearths;
Complete the cataclysmic drought,
in ruination of senseless farce.

I only have myself to blame,
for a past that's ravaged and torn;
And here I sit and feel the rain,
in drops of silk from unicorns.
The spirits call us through the night,
and touch us with their heavenly light;
No longer shadows borne of fear,
their loving presence wanders near.

And when the song of love they sing,
lifts us up toward Christ the King;
We're changed in ways we never knew,
our hearts are grown and hence renewed.

With wonders of His angels' tunes,
that wander high beyond the moon;
Our empty souls become fulfilled,
which build a world so calm and still.

It's crystal clear at Easter time,
that hope evolves from ancient rhyme;
And grace provided from His death,
brings countless lives their sacred rest.
a Lenten piece, with thoughts of Christ's love and saving grace !
So near, so far, then utterly alone--
the wonderment of illusions,
Call out to escape meaning...
without sensing a conclusion.

So far, then near, I feel the fear--
of a never-ending story,
Without the glory seething,
in spiritual repent.

Ruminations wandering--
some have rambled into the brambles,
Where distant hearts live in shambles,
then find their way home.

Nomads all, we seekers fall--
remaining innocent as children,
Lying asleep at night,
our plight--to discover how far,
how near, where magic starts and ends--
Forgives and pretends, but fades away...

Yet..how near, how far, the water's edge--
let me hear your honored pledge,
To be forever bound to lasting love,
watching seagulls up above...so far away.
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