big rat, bigger cat
who eats
who runs

who makes the rules

big rat, bigger cat.

the rat has sharp teeth,
sits on a throne of broken bones,
stares through eyes of shattered glass,
no future
no past.

who s first,
who s last,

the rat's heart
loosely wrapped
barbed wire

who s first
who s fast

big rat, bigger cat

but King Rat has dreams,
wants a kingdom

an alley chat

the cat asks, meow?

snakes in the garden of eden?
wolves in suits?
crows on the telephone wire?

every throne
every king
a reckoning

alley chat, alley cat,
the cat gives, a wink.

deep and wide,
the cat smiles the gate,

"trust me."

Some poems seem to write
themselves;
I just move the pen.
Others are like lumps
of clay;
they refuse to be molded;
they need moisture and time.
This one is like
a robin that just learned
to use its wings.
It heads west, on a
gentle breeze, into
a tangerine sky.

birthdays come birthdays go
as years go bye it lets you know
skin it wrinkles hair go goes grey
your twighlight years or on the way

glasses needed eyesight gone
getting worse as years move on
all we have is memory how it was used to be
when we were young and life was free

that is life and natures way
we age each minute of every day
thinking of things we used to do
when we were young  and foolish to

I look at the words
lying on the paper
And my heart begins to ache
I tried with much effort
But I see that
they're all fake
Somewhere deep inside
the torment does reside
Sometimes one has to accept
that the truth has arrived
Maybe the time has come
The one you ignored but feared
Every writer faces that day
The end to their
writing careers
I take a deep breath
as I look across field
still dreaming of that masterpiece
that to the masses would appeal
It's still all but willing to escape
But what more can I do
to alleviate the pain
when the words stop
flowing through

Pink cotton candy clouds
Made of sweet spun sugar
Look too good to eat
I want to touch them
As they paint the sky
Against a bright blue sky
It’s stunning look
As they drape  a rose colored city
With an exotic look
It looks unreal
Pink cotton candy clouds
Remind me of pink Necco wafer candies
Bringing back sweet memories

i am the bird flying
above the ocean,
with feet skimming
the surface
with a heart hovering
in an unknown geography
soft plumage, trilling
in between
not wholly of the sky,
not entirely of the water,
but brushing both worlds

As a child, the backyard was
my sanctuary and my
playground.
I climbed the soft
pine tree and crawled to
the top of the garage.
I stood and gazed at all the
houses and streets.
I felt rich.

My mom had a brown
jewelry box shaped like
a treasure chest.
It reminded me of
pirates and adventure.
I filled it with
football cards
gum
candy bars
family pictures, and a few
coins.

I found a small shovel
and buried it in the
backyard close to the
pine tree.
I pretended to forget
where it was.
A week or so later, I
suggested to my best friend,
Wally, that we should
search my yard for buried treasure.

Of course, we found it.
I acted surprised.
We celebrated.
All these years later,
I realize that my treasure,
then and now, is imagination.
I'm a wealthy man.