I wondered about, wondering -

and then,

I wondered some more -

Is death, death -

Or is death, birth -

Do birds fly only because they have wings -

Or do birds fly because Jesus is beneath their wings, or both-

Is tomorrow the first of never -

Or is tomorrow the first of forever -

Do words slay giants like a keen sword -

Or are words as mighty as the pen that brings them to life -

Or the mind that never stops wondering about them -

I wonder -

And, I will never
stop wondering -

the seagulls wailed
as they skimmed across the angry river's surface

on the horizon,

green islands
and a puffy line of
cumulonimbus
clouds hovering above them

the brilliant sunshine reflected off of the river's surface resembling an abundance of diamonds

i can hear the waves
'swooshing'
up against the pier
and the side of my docked yacht

a group of young boys decide to grab a swim in the boat launch area

i grab a bottle of  deep eddy lemon
and fill my glass with ice and straight deep eddy and lemon

just living out another day here on the niagara river mere moments... ..

from the mighty Niagara Falls

days and nights
of waiting

waiting for my
line to
flatten out

waiting for the
world to
stop spinning

longing for peace
of mind

longing for my
death free of
my own hands

longing for my restless soul to
finally rest

longing to get away from a world of
hatred and
******

please... ..

PLEASE!

do
not
resuscitate!

we turned into the drive,
and gravel flew up from the tires
like sparks from a fire

so much
to be done ,
the unpacking,
the mail
and papers ...
the grass needed mowing ....

we climbed stiffly out of the car

the shut-off engine ticked as it cooled

and then we noticed the pear tree,
the limbs so heavy with fruit
they nearly touched the ground

we went out to the meadow;
our steps
made black holes in the grass;
and we each took a pear,
and ate,
and were grateful

He was
fragile
like a snowflake

He was
fragile
like a bomb

And they
didn't know
which was scarier-

his
                                                   ­     ­   explosion
or
his calm?

A strange blend of shyness, of pride and conceit,
and stubborn refusal to bow in defeat.
I'm spoiling and ready to argue and fight,
yet the smile of a child fills my soul with delight.
My eyes are the quickest to well up with tears,
yet my strength is the strongest to banish your fears.
My hate is as fierce as my devotion is grand,
there is no middle ground on which I will stand.
I'm wild, i'm gentle, i'm good and i'm bad,
I am proud, I am humble, I am happy, I am sad.
I'm in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies,
i'm enamored with beauty wherever it lies.
I'm the victor and the victim, the star and the clod,
but mostly i'm Irish and in love with our God.

Through my bedroom window,  

the web of barren tree limbs that yawn against the grey sky paint a portrait.

It paints a black and white portrait of strength and loneliness,

that only we poets can see.

Late fall when leaves have left their summer homes just to lay helpless on the cold wet earth.

Some lay together in bunches in corners, while others have a space all of their own.

Some drift along a rippled water's surface being pushed far away by autumn's northeasterly winds.

Their magnificent colors are all but ignored now.

The swooshing- rattling-crackling sounds as a gentle breeze blew through their once summer home is now a distant memory.

A memory not for the leaf you understand, but for the viewer that has valued the leaf's existence.

Appreciated its every movement and sound,
sang its praise for shade against the harsh summer sun.

Even its very last movement, falling to the earth helplessly, gracefully,
only now to be walked upon by those that never noticed them in the first place.

These leaves, they share no animosity nor disappointment in those that never look upon them.

They only feel sorry for them.

But, next season after the cold winter's night has passed,
the leaves will be back once again in their full vibrant glory, living on their summer homes,
providing camouflage for a bird's nest buried deep inside,
providing shade and shelter even to those that choose to ignore all of which they are.

Only to "Fall" and "leave" us once more,
just to do it all over again and to hopefully acquire a new fan or two.

On the wet sidewalk worms are aplenty.
A bird's eye ogles the wiggling squirmers.
Cars swooshing by on the Boulevard.
The powder colored sky gently weeps.
Roads that look freshly painted.
Tree bark that appears to have been glazed.
It's a rainy Saturday morning.
A great time for a walk.

I must say -
it's been a few years.
It's been a few years since I cared about how I looked.
I'm not sure why that is ?
I'm not sure who is to blame ?
I'm not sure if anyone IS to blame ?
I'm not sure I even care why it is -
I think that I simply wanted to write about it...heh

I will admit -
I can go 6 months or better without ...
without so much as even a trim,
never mind the process of a real haircut.
I rest my razors sometimes for 7 days...
sometimes more.
I miss that sometimes only because
I enjoy the essence of my choice of shave cream.
Don't get me wrong -
I do shower everyday....
sometimes twice.

Thing is -
when I get out of the shower...
I don't ever pamper me.
I don't look in the mirror,
don't care too really.
The reason why -
I'll tell ya...
It will only remind me that...
remind me that I am in need of a shave and haircut.

And the thing about that is -
I don't care what I look like -
Don't care what you think.
I have no one to impress.
I don't have some inner drive to impress anyone,
impress anyone with my appearance anyway.

Judge me because of it, go ahead -
The cover is just that...
just a book cover.
I'm a what's inside the book cover man.
The depth inside is infinite pages you could never read -
I'm a lifetime to finish.
The outside ......
the cover is superficial and is most often misleading.
Not to mention -
a very quick and boring ...
"had it 100 times before" read.

So -
Never judge a book by its cover...
no matter how long the hair -
no matter how unshaven.
They just don't care how they look.
Perhaps..?...?..?More importantly -
they don't care how you look either

those orange cones didn't protect him from the ignorance and selfishness of this world

as he labored in the 90° degree sun every day to provide a living for his wife and six children... ..

he was viciously run over by a distracted murderous motorist that was aloof to the world while texting on her phone as she plowed through our work zone

decapitated,
dead instantly

the murderer gets out of her vehicle,
"but i didn't see him"

'you selfish *******' i exclaim, 'you didn't see all of these orange cones for miles and all of our hi-vis apparel'?

six children, fatherless and a mother/wife are now left to endure their lives without their father and without her husband

all because of your selfish murderous behavior

now i hope that you live in an empty prison cell for your entire life so you too can feel the emptiness that this family now has to endure because of you

one person, and you ruined the lives of 8 people because you are a selfish *******

there are no sorrys that will bring him back, no sorrys will make the pain and emptiness go away

you're still here, he's not so....

*******!

I wake up and

  I think of you

During my morning shower

   I think of you

Sipping my day's first cup of coffee

   I think of you

Driving into work

    I think of you

Many times throughout my work day

     I think of you

On my drive home from work

      I think of you

Eating that day's dinner

      I deliciously think of you

During my ending day's hot relaxing shower

       I think of you

As I lay in bed trying to fall asleep

        I think of you

And during one dream/fantasy per night's sleep

        I think of you

I think that it is safe to say that I am always thinking of you

     And while thinking of you;

You have never disappointed me

     If kismet were cupid?

Your lips would never be lonely

    either set of them

Reality of ******* lived out through fantasy

    Then... ..?

You would always be,

        thinking of me

My blood that rushes to my ***** must get tired of me

      thinking of you

trying to tie my shoes,
clumsily,
not able to work out the logic of it, fumbling,
as my father stands there

his anger growing over a son who can’t even do
this simplest thing for the first time

can’t even manage
the knot to keep his shoes on

you think someone’s
going to tie your shoes for you the rest of your life?

no, i answer, forty-five years later, tying my shoe,
hands trembling with this memory

my father and all those years of childhood
not being able to work out how he loved me....
a knot so tight it has taken all my life
to untie

the handle of the screen door

i grab hold as the sun set tries to hide

mischievously laughing ...almost infantile

the shadows join in
with peeks and the boos...

their darkness anything but frightening

as i enter my home
summer's reflection astonishes me


awe me..
reflections off of anything that shimmers

the sun plays for the last time this day

i draw my curtains on another day...

the only light allowed is light that i control

my feet now slide and slip on the showers suds

an owl now asks ,WHO is listening to its own idle chatter

by the wolf howling moonlight,

WHO is merely assumptions

crickets sing almost to fill the void of any silence

i awaken with a lullaby by birds...
birds that coo and ease my ill fading soul...

the song i yearn when i grab the handle of the screen door

the moon and...
   its
communion wafer hue,
          tranquilly
    reflect off of
a paradise's ocean
         of blue.
i've never seen
     an evening

         ever.....

look so beautiful
    on you.

When all the hair was long and big.
The girls and the boys.
When Aqua net filled the air night and day and boom boxes were carried around to crank our favorite tunes.

When Europe introduced the Final Countdown.
A mantra for many a relationship.

When Tommy Tutone had everyone,
everyone dialing 867-5309.
And still dialing 867-5309 when they hear the song again.

When Loverboy had everyone "Working for the weekend."

When Rick Springfield had us all talking about "Jessie's girl" but also reminded us to never "Talk to strangers".

A time when Led Zeppelin had us "Dazed and confused" while on a "Stairway to heaven".

When Guns'n'Roses "Welcomed everyone to the jungle" like it was a "Paradise city".

A time when Twisted Sister asked, "What do you wanna do with your life" ? And we all said - "I wanna rock" !

Remember the time when "Mommy was just jealous of the Beastie boys".

Or-

When Van Halen "Erupted" because they were "Hot for teacher" and had us all "Dancing in the streets".

A time when Devo wanted you to "Whip it" good.

When Thomas Dolby "Blinded all with science".

A time when Michael Jackson wanted you to "Beat it" after watching "Thriller" with "Billie Jean".

When Billy Idol had a "White wedding" while he "Rebel yelled" at someone that had "Eyes without a face".

When Great White wanted you to "Save all your love" after they "Rock'ed me".

A time when Golden earring wanted help from "Stepping into the twilight zone".

When Ozzy Osbourne had us on a "Crazy train" with "Mr Crowley" while we were going "Over the Mountain" and "Barking at the moon".

When the Scorpions "Rocked you like a hurricane" and were "Still loving you" after.

When I needed Cinderella to "Save me" and "Shake me" because you "Don't know what ya got till it's gone".

A time when Journey allowed you to have it "Any way you want it" - "Faithfully" when you went your "Seperate ways"

Or-

When Whitesnake asked you, "Is this love" and then  "Took you down slow n easy" in the "Still of the night".

Or when Quiet Riot wanted you to "Bang your head" and to "*** on and feel the noise".

A time when the Talking heads were "Burning down the house".

Ratt was "Laying it down"
after going "Round and round" and they always brought you "Back for more"!

When the Dire Staits wanted "Money for nothing and their chicks for free".

A time when Chris de Burgh " Did not want you to pay the Ferryman".

When Def Leppard was taking a "Photograph" while "Rocking for the ages" and they weren't "Foolin" around.

A time when Bon Jovi wanted you "Dead or alive" even after "Giving love a bad name" because you were a "Runaway" and you both "Lived on prayer" as you were lain down on "A bed of roses".

Or-

When Pat Benetar wanted you to "Hit her with your best shot" while saying "You better run".

A time when Tears for Fears wanted everyone to "Shout" about "Everybody wanting to rule the world."

When Motley Crue thought that she had the "Looks that ****" but were "Too young to fall in love".

When Robert Palmer was "Addicted to love" .

When Prince wanted to "Let's go crazy" and party like it was "1999" in the "Purple rain" but only "When the doves cry"

A time when David Bowie wanted you to put on your red shoes to "Lets dance" and talk about "Modern love".

I remember when Phil Collins only wanted "One more night" because something was "In the air tonight" and "Against all odds" he made it happen.

When George Michael spoke of a "Careless Whisper" and Spandau Ballet wanted to know if it was "True".

Or-

When Hall and Oates was so "Out of touch" that they couldn't "Go for that" especially around "Private eyes".

A time when Duran Duran's "Reflex" was to "Save a prayer" and remain "Hungry like the wolf".

Was a time when Lisa Lisa "Wondered if she could take you home" ?

When Shannon wanted you to "Give her tonight".

A time when Madonna was "Into the groove" when she was "Like a ******".

When we as an era quite possibly had the best music ever, which reminds me of a big hit back then by Aha- "Take on me".

A time I wish like Eddie Money once sang about., "I wanna go back" to.
"Two tickets to Paradise please".

death's grip
  on finality,
and the raw
    emotional power
of which it
   besieges and tortures
the minds of those
     left in its wake....

is an event
    of trauma which
never releases its victim,
     leaving chasms
abyss's and voids
      forever left numb
to fill the missing
    of that which will
never return is....

  a path
       forever meandering
towards a mirage'd sun soaked
  horizon that
never nears.

to never see
a face again.

forever...
   does not pretend.

once departed,
    here.... it
mysteriously all ends.

from the
   limp and lifeless body....hopefully
   your soul ascends.

looking for something in the sunday paper

i flipped by accident to local weddings

yet missed the photograph until i saw
your name among the headings

and there you were, looking almost unchanged

your hair still long, though now long out of style

and you still wore that stiff, ironic look...
the one that was your smile

i felt as though we sat there face to face

my stomach tightened

i read the item through

it said too much about both families...
too little about you

finished at last, i put the paper down

i remembered old feelings,
my mind aflame—
wondering -

who is this man ?
this stranger whom you loved...
this printed name

and yet i clipped it out to put away...
inside a book like something i might use

a scrap i knew i wouldn’t read again,
but couldn’t bear to lose

i'm not a hot weather guy

i'm not that summer all year round kind of guy

i toil enough in direct sunlight and hot weather every day,

i have for a very long 36 years now

by early May i am no longer that white guy

i'm already that brown guy,

that savagely tanned guy.

i'm not a beach guy during the day

i don't need to kick sand up in the air with my feet

i don't need to build sand castles with the sun
declaring war upon my back,
my skin

to be fair i find "beaching it" a complete
waste of my time so i never even ponder it

i'm also not the guy that screams "Marco Polo"
in our swimming pool that i am never in

i'm not a boating,

water skiing
or jet skiing guy either,

i'm not missing anything

i don't need bonfires exclusively in summer like most do

i don't need more heat on top of heat,

i'm smarter than that!

i will take a bonfire in crisp autumn air with
the crackling sounds of fallen leaves under my feet

ill take a bonfire to warm my icy hands and toes
after i slide down a snowy country *****
on a rubber tube at lightning speed

i'm not a guy that lays in direct sunlight on purpose

oil lathered over my entire body and tortured skin

cooking my body,

sweating for no other reason
than for vanity and cancer later on in life,

i'm not that guy

i am a guy that likes to cozy and nestle up
in a fresh cool,

apple crisp midnights air

this guy lives for the first sight of a treed hillside blanketed in auburns,

golds,

spearamints,

pumpkins and cinnamons

the first snowflake to fall and dance upon my eyelashes

now that guy i am!

as a poet i also know that i can get just as breathtaking
a sunrise or sunset in the spring,

fall and winter as i can in the summer

so this guy doesn't need a summer time sunrise or sunset either

believe me when i tell ya...

this guy is just not a summer time guy!

never am i
one to dare and fill the air
with dead unnecessary words

uninteresting words that just fly by
the ears and the hearts of the undeserving -
stoically portrayed.

"i'm sorry" means i'm sorry when meant

don't fill the air with those words
just to say you said them

most often,
those 2 words together ( i'm sorry )
are never felt intensely enough anyway

why you ask?

because the "apologist" -
habitually utilizing them -
has dead eyes -
a generic tongue -
and coldest of hearts.

a feeling of numbness overwhelms the body,
the mind and soul upon entering those doors

these are doors that you know you will never
pass through alive again

a great sadness,

pity and self pity surround you as the doors close

memories of a healthy life flash before your eyes
that no one else can see but you

the very edge of your world is clearly visible

you have journied here prematurely,

unwantingly

your body has been under siege,

under attack by a foe they claim has no equal

a cowardly foe,
a foe that is rarely beaten

the mind is as sound as the day you turned sweet sixteen

but now,

it also slowly gives in unwillingly

the twinkle in those eyes slowly begin to fade as well

you know that the nights of enjoying your favorite meal...

your favorite television show...

the early morning walks in the unmistakable fragrant
air after an evening's gentle rain...

the smiles you shared with those closest to you
when no one knew that you were even very sick....

those smiles are vastly different than the smiles
that merely seem,

feel to be nothing more than pity smiles now

but,

these are all things you know that you will never do again
after passing through those doors

will my loved ones miss me?

this plays over and over in your mind

will they be okay without me here,

without me near?

who will care for my four legged friend?

will he have a loving home such as i provided?

i can't help but think...

i can't help but feel that i am letting so many down....

helplessly i am being erased from the everyday landscape of my loved ones lives by a coward

a coward that plays hide and seek

a coward that never wants to be found until it's too late,

until everyone has given up and gone home

my footprints may no longer be visible in a while,

but i hope that my life and the way in which i had lived it
has left or leaves a deep enough imprint for those closest to me

to remember me by,

to cherish me by...

even being prematurely removed from their lives as i was.

on my way into hospice i may have been numb, bewildered,

and filled with nostalgia of my life that once was....

i know on my out of hospice in spirit,

i will be free!

i will cry many tears for those that i have left behind without me

but........

on the other side of those doors i will finally be free!!!!