Come on little darlin'
while I'm holdin' it together
and I'm standing in the hallway
and I'll wait on you forever
and I'm making up this silly rhyme
and I think it's kinda clever
but reality is something...
well, I'll have to reconsider
so before I get to thinking
and before the night is through
well I wish that you would hurry up
there's so much more to do
you see the world is waiting
and it's just outside the door
and tonight we'll make it different
like it was that time before
and gosh you sure look pretty
like a daisy in the sun
and the car is warm and ready
and our journey's just begun
we'll be a thousand miles from here
before the day is done
and tomorrow we'll start over
and we'll never be undone

But the truth?

We both know

It's waiting for us now

There ain't no way
of saving us...

Tonight

Shadows fall across the moon
I fear the end is coming soon
For I had things I hoped to do
As I am sure that you did too
But maybe in another time
that isn’t just a pantomime
Laughter and the children's
song will show us all where
we belong.

A genuine love,
If only for a moment,
Is eternal bliss.

Infatuation,
Though it may last a lifetime,
Dies with the body

Serpent of Eden
Your gift of liberation
A curse or blessing?

Through a morning rain
I hear the voice of nature
Laughing at my sins

Restless thoughts pervade
A slow rain begins to fall
Madness washed away

No theology
And no ideology

The sound of one hand...

Sunlight glistens.
I listen to butterfly
wings as a lark sings  
a song from a departed
age.
Lost in a dream life seems
empty and void of substance.
The wind is still and a chill
grips bones that tremble
alone in the dim twilight
awaiting morning's
consoling bliss.

Dead
Lost
The cost of redemption
too high for humanities
dregs to bare
There is no longer light
at the tunnel's end
and my mirrored friend's
eyes are vacant with
tomorrows lost
expectation...
When will the pain end
and the sun rise on the
morning of our soul's
desolation?
Droll preachers intone
empty words of pity
from the ancient book
they've been bred to
recite.

Whiskey or beer might
illuminate the darkness
better.

A ****** on the wing
makes me wonder
why this thing
keeps turning
and burning
while mankind’s
yearning is never
satisfied.
And the stars shine
And this is mine
And that belongs
to you
And all we can do
is cry for yesterday’s
abandoned innocence
and mourn tomorrow’s
faded expectation.

Nothing to forgive.
No desire or memory.
Everything cast into the
Hell I’ve created for myself.
Nightfall.
Slumber and the myth of
inner peace.
Moon casts shadows upon
the vanity of man.
First light.
Awaken.
Memory of dreams passes.
It’s time to abandon the
place of my salvation.

My mom came in and caught me
playing with my bone
She said ‘my God! oh Jesus!
won’t you leave that thing alone!’
I said ‘I’m sorry mother
but you really should have knocked.
Instead you barged right in here
and you caught me with my ****’.

She said ‘I guess I shouldn’t have
just walked right through the door
But honestly I had no clue
of what you had in store
I think you need to find a girl
who’s pretty and refined
I think that if you keep this up
you're liable to go blind

I told her that was non-sense
An old religious lie
She said 'get dressed
and come with me
and Christ pull up your fly
I'm taking you to see the priest
he'll fix your problem quick'
I said 'it's him who taught me
how to fiddle with my *****'.

My mother gasped in horror
then she boxed my little ears
She put me flat across her lap
and spanked my little rear
She said 'how dare you say
such things about a man of God
I hope that when he sees you
that he doesn't spare the rod'.

I said 'I doubt that mother
and I think it is a sin
That all us little altar boys
should take it on the chin
But either way it matters not
whatever may transpire
For a man of God is never wrong
while a boy is just a liar'

When on Sunday I kneel and pray
Before the altar of man’s decay
I look up at the Christ and
I hear him say: “It’s time for you to go.

Reality lies within your dreams
and only you know what that means
But I can’t tell you a single thing
you don’t already know”.

So I walk out across the floor
Past the choir and out the door
Remembering things
I knew before...

When I was a younger man.

Creativity freed
from the structural
prison the decision
to pen the consciousness
within won out over the thin
argument of conformity’s
Apollonian demands,
and like sands falling
through the glass
the words are flowing
past my eyes and my
fingers don’t linger
long upon these keys
that for so long stared
with derision and laughed
at my poetical decisions
A block that mocked
and castrated the spirit
of creative bliss
This is freedom
in poetical existence
and the distance I cover?
Only time will discover
if any of it was worth
a **** at all...

We can’t forget our
nightmares
And we can’t recall
our dreams
While everything
is illusion
No matter how it
seems
But somewhere in
the darkness
There’s a tiny fading
light
And all I can do
is pray that you
find shelter in the
night

A man will know
his enemies
And a woman know
her friends
While the bishop
on his chess board
Only knows how
to pretend
And the Christian
looks for answers
In his ancient
Holy book
But the answers lie
in the children’s eyes
if he would only stop
and look

A day is gone forever
in the moment that
it ends
While a memory is
eternal
If we share it with
a friend
And the universe
will answer
If we listen for
the call
But we will have
to find a quiet place
because it’s voice
is rather small…

Man can it get any worse than this?
Aimless verse floats in space and time
until I’m sick of the shtick coming out
of my head.

Dead words on a wasted pages scream
rages to no one in particular.

Great! Now I have to find a rhyme
for particular.
Vernicular?
Absurd, not a real word.

Poetic license I believe allows
for nonsense I conceive.

Past 25 or 6 to 4.

Christ what a bore it is to exist
in the here and now

Leaving behind the shadow
of rationalization’s unfulfilled
promise to enter the world
of eternities chaotic
illumination
Nothing eternal is stagnant
and nothing vibrant truly
dies.
Flies gather on the corpses
of unrealized potential
while inertia winds ever
faster into oblivion’s
indifferent lair.

Live
Exist
Be

There is nothing else...

Far in the distance
The sound of one hand clapping
Echoes through my soul