Blinding blue and red lights
Pierce the roadside night,
Slowing cars to a crawl.
Officer directs you past
To prevent gapers
Still you look quickly, try to see.
But the ambulance is in no hurry.
Who has to make the call
That will destroy someone’s life?
pwl  7/7/15

I dream not of immortality,
But of being less insignificant than some,
Not of being loved by all,
But of being liked by those I’ve met,
Not of changing the world,
But of leaving it unchanged for the better.
For there are many who will have the world changed,
For better or for worse,
Or for no reason at all.

As a king builds a temple in his own honor,
So does a dog establish dominion by peeing on a tree;
The next king builds a larger temple, and
The next dog pees higher on the tree.
It takes only a war, or a rainstorm, or the simple passing of time
To shift the balance of power, for
There will always be another king,
There will always be another dog,
And there will always be another rainstorm.

A baby cries for attention.
He cries, “I am hungry,” or
“I am tired,” or
“I have peed myself.”
And because he is helpless,
We feed him, and we hold him, and we change his diaper.
A poet also cries for attention.
But unlike the baby, his cries are often ignored,
For we do not understand what it is that he wants.

I dream not of a perfect world,
But of a world where there is more good than evil,
More peace than war,
And more joy than tears.
A world where kings build temples for babies,
Where forests and trees are abundant,
And where poets rejoice because their cries are understood.
I dream not of immortality,
But of being less insignificant than some.
Phil Lindsey 1/5/17

You may have thought I was pretentious
A little crazy, lost my senses
Can’t believe that I confided
Everything, but I’ve decided
There was nothing else that I could do that night.
And I’d do it all again.

Won’t lose sleep wonderin’ if I’m wrong
I’ve made mistakes some – now and then
But I’m telling you I love you,
And I’d do it all again.

You got to know the whole thing scared me
Like someone else, inside just dared me
My resolve began to weaken
And my mouth just started speakin’
Told you more than I had right to
You were hard to say good night to
And I’d do it all again

Won’t lose sleep wonderin’ if I’m wrong
I’ve made mistakes some – now and then
But I’m telling you I love you,
And I’d do it all again.

Sometimes now I lay back and listen,
Then my eyes tear up and glisten
I’m convinced that you have shown me
You want to love me not to own me
And you make me much more happy
Than I have a right to be
And I’d do it all again.

So I won’t lose sleep wonderin’ if I’m wrong
I’ve made mistakes some – now and then
But I’m telling you I love you,
And I’ll do it all again.

When we think back to that kiss
Hoping it would lead to this
I guess that we both learned a lesson
That I’m glad we didn’t miss
Spending days and nights together
There’s no question as to whether
We’d do it all again.
And we’d do it all again.

We can’t lose sleep wonderin’ if we’re wrong
We’ve made mistakes some – now and then
But we know we love each other
And we’d do it all again.
You know we’d do it all again.
PwL 2006

A vessel with some water,
The proverbial impasse.
‘Tis often seen half empty,
Yet it seems a half full glass.

Who drank the last swallow from the half full glass?
Is optimism on the brink?
Will our pessimistic present pass?
So we can fill the glass and drink!
For all in optimistic camp
Can we insure the world's survival?
Can we, other gloomy souls revamp;
Stage a miracle revival?

Like a prophet or evangelist
Laying hands upon the crowd
A *****’s lips, once shunned, now kissed,
A beggar not too proud
To ask the rich to share some love
Or a grain of understanding.
Would manna, sent from Heav’n above
Restore belief in those demanding
Proof.  A sign or something else
To kindle hope and quench the fear
That our half full glass has shattered
And the end is drawing near.

And for those who suffer in the dark
Is Armageddon on its way?
Has the Devil gone and lit the spark
That precedes our judgment day?
There are cops committing ******
And crazies killing cops
Are the pessimists so positive
That the killing will not stop?
What then, could be life’s purpose
For those who have this view?
It seems that all the pessimists
Are a suicidal crew.

Is there then a cure for pessimists?
Or are they the smarter folk?
Are the optimists so blind
They cannot see the joke?
For what, if not a joke
Is a world without control
Did God put all he had on ‘odd’
And then say, “Let’r roll!?”
Every gambler has a system
‘Guaranteed to win’
God says, “Goodness conquers evil
Compassion conquers sin.”

But is His system failing,
As the pessimists believe?
Should we all fold, throw in our cards
Rise from our chairs and leave?
While the optimists are calling
Saving wealth they cannot spend
For you cannot take it with you
When you finally reach the end.

I have not the answer,
Though I’d opt for Half Full Glass
I want to believe in something
That gives us half a chance.
But speak out loud ye poets
If you think the same or not.
All entitled to a voice.
Our voice is all we’ve really got.

A vessel with some water,
The proverbial impasse.
‘Tis often seen half empty,
Yet it seems a half full glass.

Phil Lindsey 4/20/15

Poetry: A lot like wine.
Can’t drink too much,
Nor all the time,
Each wine unique -
A different taste
Sip.      It.      Slowly ……
Don’t drink in haste
Try one with a fruity flavor,  
Or maybe it’s a dry you savor,
Sample all the current trends,
Don’t be afraid to share with friends.
So all us wannabe sommeliers
Can compare it to the Bordelaise!
Don’t be content - Experiment.
Try something new!
Tasting should be fun to do!
And like the rarest of all wines
Good poetry endures through time.
Phil Lindsey  5/16/15

An accountant: A number poet. That about sums it up.

I was hungry. Starving, actually.
I spied an apple in an apple tree,
It looked so very good to me,
Though it was high as it could be.
So I took a ladder to the tree,
And climbed it, oh, so carefully,
And when I was close as close could be,
I reached out, but it was plain to see,
That a worm got there ahead of me!

But I used to hear my Granny say,
"An apple a day keeps the doctor away."
So I climbed down, and what can I say,
I ate the apple anyway!

PwL  3/13/16

Volcanic Poet
Molten words, ash chokes the air
Hardens by the Sea

An opportunist takes spilled milk, adds sugar, makes ice cream.

An optimist believes it will all sell before it melts.

A pessimist complains that no one buys plain vanilla anymore.

A lot of us are still crying over spilled milk.

Do you miss me? Want to
Kiss me?  Want to hold me
Very tight?
Are you lonely, want me
Only.  Want to love me thru
The night?
Will you stay true if I
Love you? Will you be mine for
Many years?
Will we ever be together? Will
Our laughter dry
The tears?
Will you smile and say you
Love me? In the morning
and the night?
Will your smile be the
Sunshine that makes the world
All right?
If you answer that you want to
And you want to
Hold my hand.
Then you've given me a purpose
I think you will
Understand.
I am yours for Now and
Ever.  I am yours in
Heart and Soul.
I am yours from any distance,
You're the one that
Makes me whole.
pwL 2006

The words rush toward the reader,
Slapping her with an emotion, a thought, or feeling,
Before retreating, and leaving only a trace of that emotion,
As a retreating ocean leaves a foamy marker at the high point of its surge,
The foam disappears in time, or is replaced with the marker from the next surge.

The rhythm of this repetition,
Endless and varied as the tide, in and out, and in,
Customized at creation, powered by the gravity of the moon,
Refusing to be understood, though countless men and poets have
Devoted countless years and hours to doing so, still the mystery remains.

The mystery of life, and love, and emotion and poetry cannot be solved,
And that is the beauty of the world! A discovery produces still
Another mystery, as a line in a poem produces still
Another feeling, or a thought, or an emotion,
Understood by no one, interpreted by all.

Men will continue to live and love, solve mysteries and write poetry,
As each mystery is solved, a poet will add another line
To his interpretation of life, leaving the reader
With traces of an emotion, or a feeling,
Which, in time, will also be replaced!
Phil Lindsey 12/28/16

Hear the cries of women. Hear the screams of men.
Listen. They will never scream and cry again.
Screaming, running, terrified, as Hell-fire fills the skies.
Ignited by the greed of Man. Fueled by hate and lies.
No where to run.  No where to go.  Running, screaming, lost.
Accumulating land and gold, no matter what the cost.
Ten thousand years and counting. The story oft the same.
Accumulating land and gold, sometimes in God’s own name.
Ten thousand years and counting. The weapons more mature.
But in the hands of jealous men, will never be the cure.
Jealous men seek riches from a world they must despise.
And now run screaming, terrified, as Hell-fire fills the skies.
Phil Lindsey 6/17/15

"Do your poems always rhyme?", she asked. "No, he answered."

On the Lake’s North Shore
The leaves are quickly turning
Green and brown ignited. Brilliant, blazing, burning
Yellow, orange and fiery red,
An eagle soars high overhead,
Circling the steel blue sky,
While waxwings sing, and
Sea gulls cry, and
Loons laugh at yesterday’s mistakes, and
Whitecaps dance on the ancient lake.
The cliffs and rocks still pounding waves, and
Waterfalls spring from unseen caves.
Cloudy mornings, frosty, still,
The sunrise warms the early chill.
Squirrels hoard their winter store
An autumn day
On the Lake’s North Shore
Phil Lindsey- October 16, 2015

Winter’s coming.
I feel it in my bones and my body.
I sense it.  I smell it.  I see it in the mirror.
I stand here now with
My back against the fall.

I stand here with my back against the fall, and
Try to remember all that I have learned.  I
Try to comprehend what happens in the end, and I
Try to pretend that the falling snow will melt,
And that my hair will turn dark again.

The early snows DO melt, for winter is a malicious *******.
A brief hot sun melts and muddies the early snows which
Slosh under my boots and cause me to make a mess on the living room carpet.
I track the mess down the hall, shed my clothes and kick my muddied boots
Into a corner, and
Stand naked in front of the mirror, with
My back against the fall.

I draw a bath of warm memories and
Congratulate myself on the success and excess of an ungrateful life.
I laugh at cold winter outside the window until I realize the birds aren’t singing. Where are the birds?  And the flowers?  And the children playing in the yard?
The mirror, and the window, steam up, and suddenly I can’t remember anything!
I use my palm to rub the steam from the glass and see only leafless trees and the
Icy reality of truth.  I stand, staring, with
My back against the fall.

I dry and dress and know that I must clean the mess I have made on the carpet.
But the carpet is ruined and I roll it up and throw it out only to discover and uncover
The failures and sins of summer.  And I stand with
My back against the fall, and
Then I understand it all!

The leaves will come again in spring, the grass will grow, the birds will sing.
The children once again will play, the sun will drive the cold away!
My sins have been forgiven and forgotten and no one noticed my failures but me.
And as others stand with their back against the fall, I may be a memory,
But I will not be here.  I open the door and step into winter.
PwL 3/20/15

It’s the top of the sixth, and
I don’t know the score;
If I am losing the game
I will have to score more.  If
I am winning that’s good,
But the game might be tied, and
If it ended right now,
Would you know that I tried?

How many innings
Do we get to play?
That’s a question that no one
Can answer today.
The game might go nine, or
It might end after seven. Do
I have enough runs to get me
Into Heaven?

How did I play?
Good field – no hit?
Playing hard till the last out was made -
Never quit?
Did I hit some home runs?
Was I good in the clutch?
Help my teammates score runs
With sacrifice bunts.

It’s the bottom of nine
Doctor said, “Game’s almost done.
You have just enough time
To score one more run.
Get your teammates together
You gave it your best,
You played as well as you could
Now it’s time for a rest.”

The beauty of a living thing
Is part of Nature’s plan
So a flower in the garden
Is worth two in the hand.
PwL 5/29/15

On January 20th, according to police and CBSChicago website, a 40 year old Algonquin, Illinois woman shot her 50” Panasonic flat screen TV with a rifle while her 3 children watched.  She didn’t like what they were watching and she thought they watched too much TV in general.  Makes complete sense to me.  I mean if you just unplugged it those **** kids would probably just plug it in again.   Elvis also used to shoot TVs.  Allegedly the King would grab a handy pistol and shoot out the TV every time Robert Goulet was on.  He probably had to be a better shot than the lady from Algonquin.  I don’t think they had 50” flat screens back then.

Seems like the Boss couldn’t find anything worth watching on TV:

So I bought a .44 magnum, it was solid steel cast,
And in the blessed name of Elvis, well, I just let it blast,
'Til my TV lay in pieces there at my feet,
And they busted me for disturbing the almighty peace.
—Bruce Springsteen, "57 Channels (And Nothin' On)"

Who could forget Henry John Deutschendorf, Jr.’***** song about finding peace?

Blow up your TV, throw away your paper, go to the country, build you a home.

Plant a little garden, eat a lot of peaches, try and find Jesus on your own.

Come on, EVERYBODY knows John Denver’s real name!

So it wasn’t like the lady from Algonquin, Illinois was hearing voices or anything crazy like that.  These were real people telling her what had to be done.  I mean there was PRECEDENT set!

And I think that maybe the lady, though a bit extreme, and now answering to DCFS, is onto something.  Maybe TV is the source of all the world’s problems and unrest.  Maybe we should all exercise our God Given right to bear arms (hold off there big fella, that’s a whole nuther issue).  Maybe we should all just unplug the TVs for an hour or a day or a week or a month, and see what happens?!  World Peace?

Well I know that this is a poetry site, and except for some lyrics from a couple of old songs I haven’t written any poetry, so here goes:

Better OFF

Tonight I turned the TV off.
And it was better off.
And I was better off.

I called my daughter asked her how she was and we talked for an hour ‘bout stuff.
I told her I loved her and she said it back and the emotion was real enough.

And my son called from Texas, said his car needed a tire and he asked me what I thought he should do.
So I asked him if he had a usable spare, he said no, I said better buy two.

Then I made me a sandwich (the TV still off!) and I picked up a book and I READ!!
The plot started to thicken, my pulse started to quicken, but by then it was near time for bed.

So I didn’t watch ‘Wheel’ and I didn’t watch news and I didn’t watch Late Night at all.
I didn’t watch weather, though through the window, I could see the snow starting to fall.
I didn’t watch Stars Dance on anyone’s toes, didn’t watch ******* give some girl a rose.  
Didn’t watch re-runs of sit-coms I’ve seen, and I didn’t watch Judy the Judge being mean.

Tonight I turned the TV off.
And it was better off.
And I was better off.

Tonight I turned the TV off.
And it was better OFF.
And I was better off.

I called my daughter asked her how she was and we talked for an hour ‘bout stuff.
I told her I loved her and she said it back and the emotion was real enough.

And my son called from Texas, said his car needed a tire and he asked me what I thought he should do.
So I asked him if he had a usable spare, he said no, I said better buy two.

Then I made me a sandwich (the TV still off!) and I picked up a book and I READ!!
The plot started to thicken, my pulse started to quicken, but by then it was near time for bed.

So I didn’t watch ‘Wheel’ and I didn’t watch news and I didn’t watch Late Night at all.
I didn’t watch weather, though through the window, I could see the snow starting to fall.
I didn’t watch Stars Dance on anyone’s toes, didn’t watch ******* give some girl a rose.  
Didn’t watch re-runs of sit-coms I’ve seen, and I didn’t watch Judy the Judge being mean.

Tonight I turned the TV off.
And it was better OFF.
And I was better off.

I choked on my apology
As I swallowed my pride
It was caustic -
Burned all the way down,
But she’s the one that lied.
She said she loved me
But she didn’t
She loved the actors we’d become.
Characters from movies,
Protagonists from plays,
Chasing happy endings
And winding through a maze
Of dead end streets and
Errant turns
Lost with no way out.
Captains of a windblown ship
No way to come about.

But we were close!
Our destination loomed,
A beacon showed the way
To avoid the waves and jagged rocks,
To reach the shore, and end the play.
To drink from calm, fresh waters
And soothe the burning in our throats,
Retire both our characters,
Build a castle with no moats.
Have the guards remove their armor, drop their shields,
And toss the helmets from their heads,
Put an end to all the fighting, and
Let the dreams chase us instead.
PwL  5/20/15

A good poet speaks to a generation.
A great poet’s work echoes loudly through the ages.
The rest of us just talk to ourselves and hope someone is eavesdropping.

‘Tis the tale of Carry-Me Keri,
And how she got the name
On vacation off to Boston
(Of Tea Party Fame)

There’s a trail marked in yellow
Along those famous streets
Her father, saving money
Thought they should walk somewhere to eat.

So they walked the famous trail
Keri and her Mom and Dad
And they saw all kinds of history
And that part wasn’t bad.

But then they set off walking
To a restaurant on the pier
They were hungry, thirsty, tired
In need of soda pop and beer.

It was very hot and sweaty
In Boston in July
So they promised her spaghetti
So she wouldn’t start to cry.

And they continued walking
At least a couple miles
Tears and angry talking
Had replaced the once bright smiles.

Keri sometimes fell behind
When her parents turned around
They saw their daughter on the sidewalk
Sitting on the ground.

“Carry-Me” their Keri pled,
"I’m tired of all this walkin'"
“Pick her up”, her Mother said,
And she continued talkin'.

“You’ve taken us on this long walk.
Now we’re tired, hot and mad.
You’ve got to Carry Keri
Cuz’ you’re the big, strong Dad."

So I picked her up, and I suppose
I thought the restaurant was near
The two girls could get some water
And I could have a beer.

FINALLY!  We made it!
(Although I now forget its name)
It was a ‘recommended’ restaurant,
One of quite a bit of fame.

“Do you have reservations?,”  asked the haughty mai·tre d',
Well......   We had none, of course.
“No matter, you can’t eat here anyway;
“Your daughter’s wearing shorts.”

We turned around, defeated
But what to my surprise
A cab just sitting in the lot
I caught the driver’s eyes.

“How much is it to get downtown?”
(Though I really didn’t care)
I was gonna pay most anything
To get us out of there.

The driver’s surly answer,
I remember to this day,
“If you have to ask, you can’t afford,”
Then the ******* drove away.

I carried her back into town
And we found a place to eat
But before we even ordered
Keri was asleep.

So I carried her to our hotel
She slept until the morn
That’s the story of Carry-Me Keri
And how the name was born!

PwL 4-14-15

The beginning of a story
Read with me, if you desire
At dawn a huge explosion
Filled the void with fire,
Cooled and hardened into rock,
Orbits now another star,
A life sustaining prison
Caterpillars in a jar.

A thousand, thousand, thousand years,
Then a thousand, thousand more
Passed as though an eye blink
Before a creature crawled to shore.
What miracle was engineered?
Creating ocean from a fire,
Creating algae in the ocean,
And life from muck and mire?

Was the engineer benevolent?
With a careful laid out plan?
Or is the earth a failed experiment
Where the byproduct is Man?
And if Man was unintended
What results were meant to be?
Would earth have been a better place
With just oceans, land and trees?

Maybe chemical reactions,
On this random, rolling stone
Were responsible for all its life
Chemicals alone.
Astronomic odds against it,
But the odds of Heaven are high as well.
I cannot comprehend it.
That story someone else must tell.
Phil Lindsey June, 2015

I am your chameleon;
I turn blue when you are sad
I turn green when you are jealous
And red when you are mad.
I turn yellow when you are afraid
And when you’re feeling down
I’m on the ground beside you,
In a somber shade of brown.

When the sun is hidden by the clouds
And nothing goes your way,
You can find me in your shadow,
I’m the one that’s turning gray.
When others seek to see me
They squint and look right through
Because, darling, I’m transparent
To anyone but you.
Pwl 6/6/15

There once were some bats in Wohan
Who infected the meat they were on
The Chinese got sick first
But we have suffered the worst
We can’t even shake hands till it’s gone!

Give it up,
Some gladly
Some with inner pain
Some with liquor fueled breath
Some with much disdain
But everyone must
Give it up!
For the Blackhawks won
Lord Stanley’s Cup!

When all else fails, and you’re forced to run,
Stop, turn around, start shoot’n with a gun
Laugh a little louder, have a little fun,
Walk into the web that the **** spider spun.

In the midst of laugh’n, cry outloud awhile,
Then try to dry your eyes and fake it with a smile
Hide your hard-earned happiness with a grain of guile,
And join the judge and jury in attendance at your trial.

As they announce the verdict, stand there ill at ease,
Pretend you’re in a Catholic Church and get down on your knees
Be it bread and water, or be it wine and cheese
You’re sweatin’ and it’s hot as Hell; the party goers freeze.

Life can be so easy, but we make it awful hard
It’s a game of inches; sometimes we miss it by a yard,
Play another hand of poker, and get the lucky card
Or find the buried treasure in your own back yard.
Phil Lindsey 5/5/16

I have read too many poems
From those of you who want to die.

I read the words, I hear your voice,
Yes, I hear your desperate cry,
I am torn and heart-sick at your plight;
Yet, I have to ask you why?
For when you close your eyes forever,
The hurt and pain won’t go away,
It crawls inside all those you love,
Where it kills them every day.

Were you jilted by a lover?
Are you an addict, beaten down?
Or is it that you don’t fit in
On the ‘right’ side of the town?
Does no one understand you?
Or “It doesn’t matter anyway”,
Because when you try to tell us,
We listen not to what you say?

No, I cannot feel the pain you bear
But I understand it’s real
Is there anything that I can do,
To try and help you heal?
Do you want someone to hold your hand?
Do you want a shoulder for your tears?
Do you want someone to scream at you?
Or hold you tight and calm your fears?

Do you need a teacher?  Or a coach?
Or a banker for your debt?
Do you want a job that’s interesting,
Or any job that you can get?
Do you want to make somebody proud?
Or find someone to share your life?
Or do you only want a yes-man
To hand you the pills, give you the knife?

You may say, “Shut up old man! –
Don’t want to listen to your ****.
You’ve always had it easy,
You always won, you never had to quit.
You don’t have a ******* clue.”
And you’re right I probably don’t
But if you keep it all inside,
No one will, and I sure won’t.

Please seek some help, I beg of you
You each have talents, and a heart
There’s a remedy or cure somewhere
For the pain that’s tearing you apart
I’m not a doctor, or a shrink
But I’ve seen suicide up close,
It hurts and devastates the ones
Who loved the victim most.
Phil Lindsey  6/8/15
                     **1-800-273-8255

Death dressed up for dancing
In a tan sport coat and tie,
Not invited to the wedding, but
It was someone’s time to die.

The bride and groom were beautiful
As brides and grooms would be,
Few knew that she was pregnant,
In several months there would be three.

The best man was a long-time friend
Of both the bride and groom
He was drinking fueled by jealousy
Because their wedding sealed his doom.

Bride’s Mom and Dad, long since divorced,
Said, “Hello”, but didn’t smile.
They both cried as their ‘little girl’
Walked slowly down the aisle.

Groom’s parents laughed and danced and drank,
But both hid things inside
His Dad was filled with cancer, and
His Mom despised the bride.

Grandpa sat in his chair alone,
Except for the oxygen tank
The young pretty much ignored him,
So he just sat and drank.

Bride’s brother disappeared a lot
He insisted he was fine,
Then he snuck off alone again
To do another line.

The wedding party partied hard,
Paid the band for one more set,
All filled with alcohol and lust
How much drunker could they get?

Death walked unseen among the crowd.
He had yet to pick his date,
Lay his hand upon a shoulder
And seal the doomed one’s fate.
Phil Lindsey 3/27/17

In an interview, the President maintained,
“What is true … we have ISIS contained.”
He went on at great length,
Said, “They are not gaining in strength."
Which leaves the terror in France unexplained.
Phil Lindsey 11/13/15

An artist with a universal canvas, using words as paint.

I was lost; My life a mess, and
I needed a correction,
Put ‘Heaven’ in my G.P.S.,
An inside voice gave me directions:

“Make a legal U-Turn right away
You’re on shaky ground
If you want to go to Heaven
You have to turn yourself around.

First take Forgiveness Freeway,
Then (and this part might be hard)
Read all the signs and billboards
On Bible Boulevard.

At the corner of Divine and Vine
There will be a round-about
Stop and yield the right of way
Learn what patience is about.

There will be hills and mountains
Compassion Pass should get you through
Then go a hundred thousand miles
On Thankful Avenue.

Turn right on Straight and Narrow Road
Ignore Temptation Trails
They only serve to keep you lost
And take the wind out of your sails.

Merge onto Heaven’s Highway
It’s a very scenic road
Slow down and take some pictures
For by now you’re growing old.

You’ll never know your ETA,
And you shouldn’t even care
Destination ‘Pearly Gates’ ahead -
God will tell you when you’re there.”
Phil Lindsey 5/29/15

In Deutschland as the tale is told,
A clockmaker was growing old
After making near a thousand clocks
He was tired of all the ticks and tocks
He was satisfied with what he’d done
But had no desire to teach his son.
His clocks were made with love and skill
But of cuckoo birds he’d had his fill
So stepping back was his decision
And his clocks were built with such precision
That he hoped they’d run all by themselves,
And, as he looked upon his empty shelves,
With sadness and with pride,
He noticed that his only son was standing by his side.

The son looked up and saw a tear,
As his father said, “I won’t interfere,
My clocks will run, or they will not
Ich bin nicht ein Wundergott
Und Ich hoffe sie verstehen
Meine Uhren müssen allein gehen.”
Phil Lindsey   May 7, 2015

I am Phil
I am Phil
Phil I am.

That Phil I am
That Phil I am
I do not like that Phil I am.

Would you like to drink some Scotch?
No Phil I am.  No I would not.
I would not like to drink some Scotch.

Would you drink Scotch on the Rocks?

I would not drink Scotch on the Rocks
I think it tastes like ***** socks
So get down off that Dewars box
I will not drink a Scotch with you
No that is something I won’t do
I might drink *****, might drink gin
But drinking Scotch would be a sin.

Would you drink some Chivas Regal?

I think Scotch should be illegal!
What is it that you do not get?
I just don't like the taste of it!
Scotch just doesn’t suit me well
I do not even like the smell.
Give me wine or give me beer
But don’t talk to me when Scotch is near.

Would you like a single malt?

I don’t like Scotch.  It’s not your fault.

Would you try some Lagavulin?

I won’t drink Scotch; I’m not foolin’
I won’t drink Scotch all by myself
With you or anybody else
I hate the smell
I hate the taste
To serve ME Scotch
Would be a WASTE!

Well!!  You don’t have to cause a scene
Just try a sip, see what I mean
It’s really not that bad, at all
Don’t drink the bar stuff, drink the call
All the ‘Glens’ are really nice
Drink them neat, add 1 cube ice
One ice cube brings out the taste
Two or more would be a waste.
Try just a sip, and you will see
Then you might drink a Scotch with me.

Oh Phil I am
Oh Phil I am
You wore me down.
Was that the plan?
I guess I’ll let my scruples slip
And try a Scotch – a tiny sip.

Sip.    Sip.      SSSSippppss.

Oh (licks his lipsss)
This is good.  This is really good,
I think that I can taste the peat.
It’s not too smoky, not too sweet
It’s not at all what I expected
Now I’ve got my thoughts collected
My admiration resurrected
I think I like Scotch, Yes it’s true.
I think I'll drink a Scotch with you.
In fact, Phil, I just might have two!
Do you have some Johnnie Walker Blue?
PwL   April 8, 2015

It would be easier for me to track a dinosaur through time;
To solve the evolution mystery, or make the dictionary rhyme.
To change the course of history would be easier to do
Than for me to spend a single day
Without a thought of you.

It would be easier for me to make the stars all disappear;
To make a blind man see your face, or make a deaf man hear.
To make the world stop fighting would be easier to do
Than for me to spend a day without
A single thought of you.

A single thought of you?
I only wish that it were true,
But I think of you a thousand times a day.
In my heart I hope that you
Are sometimes thinking of me too,
And I never want, won’t ever want, these thoughts to go away.

It would be easier for me to turn a mountain into sand;
To turn a desert into ocean, or an ocean into land.
To make the earth stop turning would be easier to do
Than for me to spend a day without
A single thought of you.

A single thought of you?
I only wish that it were true,
But I think of you a thousand times a day.
In my heart I hope that you
Are always thinking of me too,
And I never want, won’t ever want, these thoughts to go away.

If our lives were only easy, we would both know what to say,
Know when to hold each other closer and know when to push away.
To live with this emotion is no easy thing to do
And I'll never spend another day
Without a thought of you.
And in my heart I hope that you
Are always thinking of me too,
And I never want, won’t ever want, these thoughts to go away.

pwl 2006

An Elephant and a Giraffe
Relaxed in a whirlpool bath
"Move your trunk," Giraffe begged,
"It's draped over my leg."
"It's not my trunk," the Elephant laughed!

When the smoke alarms are beeping,
And it’s almost three AM,
And the batteries you need are at the store.
And the toilet’s overflowing
And you’re forty minutes late,
And you’re thinkin’, “Man
There must be something more.”

When the kids ask you for money,
And you could use some money too,
And the car could use a brand new set of brakes.
And the washer isn’t working,
And the dryer doesn’t dry
And you’re thinkin’, “Man,
There must be some mistake.”

When the rain just keeps on coming,
And you’ve stepped into the mud,
And spilled coffee on your brand new set of clothes.
And you’re not ready for the morning,
And the kids just missed the bus,
And you’re thinkin’, “Man,
I wonder if it shows?”

But when you know that you can’t take it,
And you’re throwin’ in the towel,
And you’re thinkin’ that you should run far away.
You look up and there’s a rainbow, and
You see your baby smile, and
You know that you can take it,
One more day!
Phil Lindsey 8/9/16

It ain’t too bad to be from there
Just ask my family and friends
But it’s too flat, ain’t no way out
The roads are all dead ends.
Sometime soon I’ll find a place
Where the music I’ll enjoy
But for now I keep on tryin’
To escape from Illinois!

There’s a river on the border west
That moves a lot of dirt
Mighty Muddy Mississipp
Drowns the pain and covers hurt
Yeah, I’m movin’ south to New Orleans
Maybe I can find employ
In a blues bar down on Bourbon Street
Escape from Illinois!

Well I stopped a week along the way
When I saw the Gateway Arch.
But the folks out by the airport
Were stagin’ up a march.
Seems a white cop fired a shot that killed
An unarmed teenage boy
Oh yeah, the teenage boy was black,
Escape from Illinois.

Kept walkin’ to the Landing
(Named for Pierre Laclede)
It has most every thing you want
But nothing that you need
Some travelin’ folk told me some news
That made me jump for joy
Memphis maybe had some work
Escape from Illinois!

Found the haunted house called Graceland
And the grave where Elvis lay
Where half a million go each year
(Fifteen thousand every day)
They all want to pay respects
To the rockin’ – rollin’ boy
Put their finger in the bullet holes
Escape from Illinois.

Went downtown, knocked on some doors
Once or twice I went inside
But Beale Street was broken
The travelin’ folks had lied.
‘Cuz there ain’t no jobs in Memphis,
Or maybe I’m too coy
So I hitched a ride to Nashville
Escape from Illinois.

Nashville’s a big old meltin’ ***
Lots of great ones started here
But most end up as tourists
Getting’ ****** and drinkin’ beer
So money’s at a premium
And fame’s a fake decoy
End up workin’ in a record store
Escape from Illinois?

From Asheville to Atlanta
From Austin to LA
From Biloxi back to Baton Rouge
Need a place where I can play
I’ll follow all the buskers,
Form a musical convoy
Livin’ day by day and town by town
Escape from Illinois!

I’m a minstrel, like a rubber band
I keep on snappin’ back
I’m gonna make it somewhere
Singing somewhere, that’s a fact
Got my guitar and my music
Gotta do what I enjoy
Find a place to sing my songs for you,
Hell, it may be Illinois!
Phil Lindsey  6/4/15

My Brothers and Sister and Me
We all share the same genes
Though some hide it better than others.
Similarities And Differences are pronounced.
The apples don’t fall far from the tree
Though a couple of them bounced.

Apples baked into pies or
Thrown to the horses
Rotten and brown and wormy and
Delicious apple cider in the Fall.
Applesauce and apple butter and Appleton, Wisconsin
Looking for a job?  Applications for them all.

Mountains, and mountains of books
Rivers, and streams of numbers
Hiking and running through canyons
Flowers and gardens and mushrooms and parks.
Shooting pheasants in the fields
Shooting stars in the dark.

Time will tell.  Time will tell
Mom’s in Heaven, Dad’s in his own Hell.
Whose footsteps will you follow?
What size boots do you own?
Who most will you resemble?
When your own kids are grown.

We are laughing.  We are laughing.
We are librarians and teachers
And accountants and staff and lumbermen always.
And still we all laugh.  
“Thought one of you’d be a preacher.”
“Good money in that.”

Each generation’s gaps grow wider
As the trees grow taller the apples fall farther
Similarities and Differences well-defined
Still laughing. Still laughing at things
New genes swimming in the family pool
Some of the cousins can sing!!
PwL March, 2015

A farmer named Mordecai Brown
Took his 3-legged dog into town
The dog could do many tricks,
Like fetching thrown sticks,
But when he tried to shake hands, he fell down.

Then the dog learned to walk on two feet
Now when both of them walk down the street
The dog dances around
All over the town
And shakes hands with who ever he meets!!

I see your bags all packed for leavin’
And I’m sure you have a reason
But there ain’t no reason I could understand.

You tell me you need freedom
And I wish I could believe ya
But I think your ‘freedom’ means another man.

So if freedom’s just a cover
And you’re leavin’ for another
Here’s my advice – I hope it makes some sense

You should compare the life your choosin’
With the one that you’ll be losin’
Cuz the grass ain’t always greener on the far side of the fence.

No the grass ain’t always greener on the far side of the fence –
Sometimes it’s a confusing shade of brown
Compare the life your choosin’
With the one that you’ll be losin’
Life might not be better on the other side of town.


Yeah, he’s probably real good lookin’
Tells you he just loves your cookin’
Takes you clubbin’ and goes dancin’ all night long.

But at night when you are sleepin’
Midnight memories come creepin’
Do you shed a tear when you hear our favorite song”

Think hard before you cut the cord,
Don’t choose a life you can’t afford
Don’t ever want you having no regrets.

Consider what you’re doin’,
And all the lives you’ll ruin
The grass might not be greener on the far side of the fence.

No the grass ain’t always greener on the far side of the fence –
Sometimes it’s a confusing shade of brown
Consider what you’re doin’,
And all the lives you’ll ruin
Life might not be better on the other side of town.


Well I guess that I’ll stop the lecture now
Cuz you ain’t listenin’ anyhow
There's nothing more that I can say or do.

I’ll help you haul your bags outside
That Cadillac must be your ride
I hope the driver takes good care of you.

And baby you can keep my key
Consider it a gift from me
I’ll go on livin’ in the present tense.

Then when I’m done with my friend Jack,
Most likely I won’t want you back
Cuz' I like the color green I got on my side of the fence.

Yeah I like the color green I got on my side of the fence
No matter what I'm gonna hold my ground
Then when I’m done with my friend Jack,
Most likely I won’t want you back
I like the color green I got on my side of the town.
pwl 2014

It was a windy, wintery day in spring;
I had on my summer clothes.
Then it started snowing and
My nose, and toes, soon froze.
Why did I not wear a warm, wool coat,
With a scarf, and hat, and such?
I can only say, that on that day,
I wasn’t thinking all that much.
I guess I thought that I was cool,
But what I was, was very cold,
And if my Mom had been around that day,
She’d have said, “Son you’re too old,
To be running ‘round in a short sleeve shirt
On a windy, wintery day.
Son, you’re dressed
Like it is summer, and it isn’t even May.”

But my brain was filled with other things,
Like what to say on my first date,
And how not to get there early,
But make sure I wasn’t late,
How I thought the shirt would
Match my eyes, make me look kinda buff,
And how much cologne I needed,
Was that too much, or not enough?
How to act if her Mom and Dad were there?
Or if we were alone together?,
With all these thoughts inside my head,
I thought naught about the weather.
Still snowing when I went around
A curve a little fast,
I tried in vain to hit the brakes,
But I guess I hit the gas.

The car was stuck, and I was
Late, still had eight blocks to go,
I tried running on the sidewalks,
But now they were covered in snow.
I slipped, then tripped, and landed
In a snowdrift four foot deep,
This can’t be real I reasoned,
I’m in a nightmare. I’m asleep.
But it wasn’t a dream, I was wide awake.
I was shivering; it felt like frostbite.
Surely my dream girl was worth it,
We could still have a wonderful night!
Finally, I climbed the steps to her door,
Rang the bell, and it opened wide.
Her father said, “Son, can I help you?”
You must be freezing, c’mon step inside.”

“YesSssir, I’m hhhhere, to pppickup your daughter,
Cccan you sssee if shshshe’s ready to go?
Thththankyou for letting me in
Sssorry ‘bbbbout all the snow."

“Son, she’s not here, he shook his head slowly,
I’m afraid it would be a long wait.
Not sure when she’s coming home,
She must have forgot she had a date.”

Phil Lindsey 1/12/17

Flying used to be a treat,
Fighting over the window seat,
Peanuts, (free) and lunch at noon
The next flight couldn’t come too soon.

Now, it’s quite the opposite
It seems no matter where I sit
The person sitting next to me
Carried four bags on (so they were free.)

And now we go through TSA
(Where half full water gets thrown away)
Hurry, get in line, and wait
Incoming plane is running late.

Finally, boarded, seatbelt on,
We know it’s time the plane is gone
But on the tarmac we still sit
We think a flight attendant quit.

The pilot says, “We’re next in line.”
“I’ll do my best to make up time.”
And try he does, but it’s too late,
The connecting flight has left the gate.

“I’m sorry, Sir”, they say with guile
They don’t even try to smile
If on time you must arrive,
You’d better rent a car and drive.
PwL  3/31/16

The art of forgiving: Not an easy picture to paint.

Free to work
Free to play
Free to buy stuff
Free to pay
Free to worship
Free to choose
Free to win
Free to lose
Free stuff always
Has a cost.
Without freedom
We are lost.
Pwl 7/8/15

With Lackey and Heyward both turning blue
The Chicago Cubs scored a mighty big coup
Kind of a payback for Brock, comma Lou?
What, oh what are the Cardinals to do?

We’re pretty sad, say the fans dressed in red,
That both of those guys chose Chicago instead
But a person would have to be daft in the head
To give up the St. Louis Cardinals for dead.

Yes, the Cubbies think that they have enough
But the whole NL Central is pretty **** tough,
Which team do you think will have the right stuff?
To win in September, when winning gets rough?

2016 will be pretty fun.
There’s quite a Division race to be run
When game 162 is finished and done
We will see which team, the most games, has won.

Yes, next year the race will be closely contended
During the season you might have me un-friended
But in winter time, our rivalry suspended
We can cheer for the Bears till their season is ended.
Phil Lindsey 12/12/15

I heard a scream from the laundry room,
A shout, “Come QUICK! And bring the BROOM!”
Ran down the hall, and through the door,
“There it is!  THERE, on the floor!”
I looked down at the clay brown tile,
That’s when I saw the gecko smile.
He looked at me.  Looked in my eyes
As if to say, “Are you surprised?”
“It’s warm in here when the dryer runs
I’m just sleepin’ in the morning sun,
Wouldn’t hurt a fly (maybe that’s not true,)
But I promise, Sir, I won’t hurt you.”

Its skin was tan, like its tile bed,
“But, It’s so small,” I turned and said,
“I don’t care.  It’s in my HOUSE!
Remember when you trapped that mouse?
So here’s what I want you to do
Go buy a gecko trap or two,
And get that monster out of here,
I’m not coming back till the coast is clear.”
And she turned around and walked away
Guess I had my orders for the day.
There’s a gecko in the laundry room
And I’m standing there with a worthless broom.

The gecko stared, I stared right back,
I was making plans for a sneak attack
When all at once the gecko took a leap onto my shirt
“Sir, give up now, I beg of you, before one of us gets hurt.
Tell your wife I ran away; I think she’ll understand.
After all I’m just a gecko and you’re a big strong man.”
He jumped onto a dark green towel, then to my surprise,
He turned green and disappeared, before my very eyes!
That little guy was really quick,
And the camouflage thing was a **** good trick,
But I knew he wasn’t really gone,
I had a job to do, so the war was on.

I closed the door and chased that guy, for an hour, ‘round the room
I’d get close and swing at him with my gecko huntin’ broom
He’d stretch, and yawn, and leap away, turning colors all the while,
“Come on Sir, try harder,” he said with his ever-present smile.
I moved the washer and the dryer, the laundry basket, AND the clothes,
All the time he’s laughing, as my frustration grows.
“Excuse me, Sir, “ he said, I’m getting bored with ‘Hide and Seek’
There’s a window, over there, think I’ll just go and take a peek,
You turn around, and close your eyes and count from one to ten,
I’ll find another place to hide and we can start the game again.”
So I turned around began to count, “One, and two, and three,”
No tiny little gecko can make a fool of me.

I knew the window was cracked open, I would sweep him right outside
Then I wouldn’t care at all where the gecko chose to hide.
As I counted four, I turned around (I didn’t wait for ten)
I thought I’d get the drop on him, but I had to think again.
The gecko, on the outside, gave me a little wave
“I know what you were going to do – Sir, that wasn’t very brave.”
I saw at once what he had done,
Now there were THREE instead of one.
“Sir, I was getting tired, so I called a couple of my friends
I told them you were fun to play with, but I guess it all depends,
On whether you keep playing, or let us stay the night.
We promise when your wife comes back we’ll all stay out of sight.

I turned and wandered down the hall, and told my wife with pride,
“It’s finished, over, job well done, the gecko is outside!”
“Thank you dear,” she said and turned to Oprah on TV.
But wait, I thought, (though not out loud) till you find the other three.
Phil Lindsey 11/17/15

There was a good golfer named Jim
Whose hearing and eyesight were dim
With the match on the line,
He started to whine -
Because he wanted putts given to him.

Clouds obscure reality,
And fill the void with fluff,
But as we fall from Heaven’s grace
Will clouds be enough?
To soften our hard landing,
Slow our descent to Hell,
Or will they scatter in the sin blown wind,
And bid us, “Fare thee well?”
Phil Lindsey, June 1, 2015

What then happens to our Father?
For he suffers more than us.
He lost his lifelong partner,
In whom he dared to trust
That she would always be there
Devoted by his side
To share memories of their journey
A long well traveled ride.

Now she is gone before him
Not by her desire or choice.
In the jet trails and the flowers
Listen closely, hear her voice,
“Take care of your Father,
It’s not easy.  I should know.
But he loved me and he loves you too.
We were proud to watch you grow.”

“And now his family is all he has.
Along with memories fading fast.
He has but one more journey;
Joining me will be his last.
Love him with patience  humor grace
Look through my eyes and try to see
He always tried to do his best -
Love him as you love me.”
pwl 12/14