When you look at me
with a shaking head
Making me feel like
I am an Idiot

And as sometimes mist seems
to cover the whole dam earth
Foggy mind plodding
through the earth

Lost in a tiny little boat
Floating  across a giant sea
Waves are so much bigger
than me

The darkest night seems to have no end
No guiding stars or
even an owls
hoot

Just swallowed up by some dark mystery
Full of doubt about
The direction
I took

With a million voices screaming in my head
Telling me that I am stupid
That I just got it so
So wrong

But wait white doves are now appearing
The flood is disappearing
As the phoenix is now
Rising

Misty due is now falling breaking clouds
Sky is clearing and
Birds are
singing

Flashing lights lit up in the mud
Words written in the sand
I think I have seen
a sign

Truth is I got everything
I ever really wanted
Exactly what
I needed

A person you would always be friends with
Something really terrific
I got
Me

Which is better than expected
Much more lovely than
I could of
imagined

You see this world is something special
And mankind can be so
Wonderful

As crystal cliffs sparkling with
pink waterfalls splashing
My heart meeting this
magical world

As I know all is how it should be
Exactly what was meant to be
And more importantly
So am I  

And so much better than expected
And I know now there
Is even
More

Take my ashes to San Francisco
Follow the steps
And lay me to rest where
I always felt free and at peace

Step one: Irish coffee(s)
Step two: Irish coffee to go
Step three: take the walk and shed your demons
Step four: find my spot and sit
Step five: tune in, unwind, and listen for my reply

Let me go into the ocean
And I'll always be within reach
Stay by the sea and let the water  
Sing you my love songs
I'll be the fog on the horizon
And the brisk embrace
of the Pacific mist

And if you find yourself in need
I'll relinquish my spot
for those days you could use an ear
And feel comfort
Know that I'll hear you
And I'll reply
And if you weep
Let the raindrops that fall
And the howling of the wind
give notice
That I am weeping too

You may grow lonely
But you will never be alone
I'll be within waters reach
And in the city I will
Always be alive with you.

Take my ashes to San Francisco.

Empty vessels and all that,

it makes sense of the senselessness
and  brings self to the selfless
pointless is blunt
when the army's on the hunt
with bayonets fixed, but the runt
of the litter
the weasel eyed critter
sees all.

not always so
so you know,
and won't always be,

sometimes when silence rules me
I can see heaven which must be
a haven,

it's another board game of life or
some name I don't know
but it grows on me
and it goes on
no matter we lose
because
we win by
beginning
to play.

Nine years and still
we cradle our grief
carefully close,
like groceries
in paper bags.

Eventually the milk
will make its way
into the refrigerator;
the canned goods
will find their home
on pantry shelves.

Most things find
their proper place.

Eventually the hummingbirds
will ricochet against scorched air,
their delicate beaks stabbing
like needles into the feeder filled
with red nectar on the back porch.

Eventually our child
will make her way
back to us. Perhaps.

But I’ve heard
that shooting
****** feels
like being
buried under
an avalanche
of cotton *****.

For now it’s another
week, another month,
another trip to Safeway.

We drive home and wonder
why it is always snowing.
Behind a curtain of snow,
brake lights pulse, turning
the color of cotton candy,
dissolving into ghosts.

And with each turn,
the groceries shift
in the seat behind us.
From the spot where
our daughter used to sit,
there is a rustling sound—

a murmur of words
crossed off yet another list,
a language we’ve budgeted
for but cannot afford to hear.

It took Vegas two days
to teach me that winning
is the taste of salmon roulade,
green lip mussels and
pineapple glazed ham.

Losing is the smell
of shoe-worn carpet,
warm poker chips and
air recycled through the lungs
of a thousand desperate strangers.

I walked the Strip
an educated man.

I swallowed the lights
like squares of Starburst
candy melting to neon
in my shining mouth.

I found the desert in pitch
blackness and placed bets
on the stars with my eyes

until they fell from the sky
in a shower of silver coins.

(20 minute poetry)

Chaos,
there is no Central line
the drivers are
on strike again.

Each strike
more pain
but we endure,

one things for sure
the tracks remain.

As London struggles in the
absence of no travelling
I couldn't give a toss
if I don't get to work
no loss.

But I left home early
just in case I
had a change of heart,
ha, no chance there
my heart don't race
except when I see
her.

On a roundabout route
all points are moot

Don't know in the dark
if I'll be in the West End
or at Wembley Park
not sure I care
they certainly don't.

If you hear from me
then presently
you'll know that I survived
and I've arrived.
if not then you've got
this to read.