When evil intrudes into our day
So many are silent or turn away.
They back away, stare at the ground
Scarcely a hero can be found.
It was on the “L’ train yesterday;
A man was beating on his child
A woman had the nerve to say
“Stop what you’re doing
For it is vile.”
You’ve heard the tale-
You know the rest
He turned on her
He ripped her dress
He lashed out and knocked her down
Our heroine lay there on the ground.
A heroine bloodied but unbowed.
New York would be a better town
If more like her would stand their ground
For evil cannot stand the Sun.
We need more heroes, but here was one.

A good life is much like a good book.
It engages and enthralls
the mind and senses.
The Life, like the book, has a narrative and episodes
like the book has chapters.
Both are meant to be savored and enjoyed.
Too good in the telling to ever
tempt one to skip to the end,
even though one could.

A good life , like a good book
will long be remembered
and treasured by many.

enjoy each page.

Something there is that doesn’t love a rose;
The biting wind, the unrelenting rain,
The first hint of the coming winter’s chill
That will not suffer flowers to remain.

Something there was that did not love our Rose
The renegade cells whose blood destroying will
Seeped into the bones and her soft tissues
and on the warmest day left our Rose chilled.

Now our Rose lies still in her Sunday best
Her hands composed for prayer and ever sleep.
Something there was that didn’t let Rose live.
A circumstance that makes a grown man weep.

The great man lies dead in his bullet riddled clothes.
The ambush was more successful than De Valera dared suppose.
Michael Collins was a traitor to Republican ideals.
His treaty gave over to the Brits one fourth of our green fields.
Everyone thought me his friend. I was always by his side.
Yet I knew enough to stay away on this day he died.
When he fired on the Inns of Court I decided he’d go down..
Though some may say he was a Saint, once safely in the ground.
They say that he fought bravely, though surrounded with long odds.
A proper, fitting sacrifice to lay before our gods.
Nations must be born in blood if they are ever to be free.
Free of allegiance to a Crown and capped with Liberty

Nothing lasts forever without ceasing.
For every laugh, somewhere a tear drops down.
When you lose someone your steps feel so uncertain.
No longer do you trust the solid ground.
For so it chances in the lives of men
That day comes when their fathers go before.
The flesh and blood becomes a ghostly presence.
The veil has dropped between them ever more.
When dialogues become soliloquies,
The things you meant to say mean that much more
because they will forever stay unspoken
save to his stone in moments spend alone.

We knew only your laughter which won you renown.
We never observed the tears of our clown.

You entered our homes as the loveable Mork;
with Your razor sharp wit and lightning fast thought.

Your movies mixed laughter with serious turns;
Good Will earned you an Oscar For which many yearn.

There were personal demons that proved hard to hide.
A divorce, an affair, Drugs and rehab besides.

But, through it all, We heard only the laughter.
Not the tears of our Clown that brought on this disaster.

To us you were Robin, Like Peter Pan, just a kid.
May this sleep bring you peace that your days never did.

Imagine the outrage
If a band, all-male members,
Refuse to play tunes
for the opposite gender.

Imagine the uproar
The venue would face
For excluding a half
of their customer base.

“It’s rank discrimination!”
The ladies would moan.
If the males got to listen
while the girls  stayed at home.

Yet the Bulletproof Stockings,
That band that wears wigs,
Exclude guys from their concerts
Not just chauvinist pigs.

“It’s a matter of Faith!”
The girl band members say;
No guys at their gigs!
No men hear them play.


Yet I’ve heard pious Pastry chefs
Don’t get to choose.
If gay brides want a cake
It’s a crime to refuse.

An Orthodox authoress
who published a tome
would be most put out
if male buyers stayed home.

So if girl musicians
seek public expression
They ought to think twice
about gender oppression.

Its great that they’re keeping
an orthodox home.
But enough of these concerts
For women alone.