Downwind
of my perception
Upwind
before the fall
Immune
in my protection
From dullards
at the mall

The past
remains in focus
The future
but a myth
My words
fall out of judgment
Each phrasing
to enrich

To read
with understanding
To hear
beyond the din
To feel
beyond the senses
To love
beyond the rim

Released
without containment
On wings
not leased or loaned
Into
the inner sanctums
With time
— Goliath’s stone

(The New Room: June, 2025)

The only child
but favorite
of two ‘outlaws’
mare and stud

He bucked each
gelded moment
on their wild ride
of love

Until that day
he up and left
their branding iron
of pain

To wander high
and lonesome
mongst the free  
and tumbling sage

In search of one
last bronc to mount
that one last
horn to make

And spur the wreckage
of his youth
as Angels
— pull the Gate


(Pendleton Round-Up: June, 1993
Elko Nevada: Cowboy Poetry Reading: January, 1994)

“No Man Is An Island”
but that was before smart phones
To text and to tweet
technology’s drones

With ear buds in place
these Stepford’s march on
Virtually connecting
— to what’s already gone

(University of Pennsylvania: June, 2025)

Built on envy
and city lights
The vagrant actor
alone at night

In hidden alleys
with tinsel thorns
On celluloid
new lies are born

A big screen promise
of broken dreams
The waitress car hop
on Wilshire scheme

Drugged on stardom
with toxic friends
What footlight’s start
— the darkness ends

(The New Room: June, 2025)

The staff of my Father enjoining the past
futurity’s herding a bleating morass
The bloodline of orphans forever is linked
tattooing the flock with invisible ink
The first time the last time when nearing the end
tomorrow’s ungifted excuses portend
And times better nature is better untimed
beginning and ending forever conjoined
Eternity’s fenceposts hem in with disdain
all future inclemency fire and rain
But just as that last final sheep stays unsold
— my Father returns to re-shepherd the fold

(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)

It’s great
that they read us
a joy
when they say
“I loved your
last poem
the best one
today”

We post
and we thank them
for all
that they give
Refilling
our pens
with more reasons
— to live

(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)

The psychic tattoo
of paternity
darker than
fate’s blackest ink

The guilted knife
of maternity
cutting you
near to the brink

A prodigy alone
in the shadows
offspring of
scorn and disdain

Begging for love
and acceptance
from parents
— called heartache and pain

(Dreamsleep: June, 2025)