"You're a half step
behind", she said.
"You don't have to
chase the beat..
Just let the rhythm
oil those bones",
she laughed, "and flow
to your two left feet..
It's nothing you have
to try to do.
We're all born to dance.
But some are just
too self-aware and won't
give themselves a chance"

Then she smiled and put
her hand in mine and
it calmed my busy brain.
And the whole night
we spent cheek to cheek,
dancing in the pouring rain.

I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
melt into every embrace..

I loved you long
before I knew you

And now..
all the more.

Distant thunder roars
Maple branches surrender
to the gusting wind
---
A busy boy turns
toward the darkening clouds
waiting for the rain

We put our problems in a bottle,
sank it, and said a prayer,
then hammered down the throttle
with our hands to the open air..
The evening sky especially beautiful -
Sun rays bursting through cotton skies
And still, it was barely suitable
to reflect from the bluest eyes..
Pontoon bouncing on choppy water
Blonde hair dancing in the wind -
just a worn out dad and daughter
who might not come this way again.
But today, the water welcomes us..
And we make for a crazy crew..
Captain Grateful at the wheel
with his first mate - Baby Blue

One thing that
I'll remember
And I trust that
you'll never lose:
Warmth that
late December
can't take from
those baby-blues

That worn old house on Second Street
The whole world inside the fence -
He-man tapes and old towel capes
stood ready at my defense..
Where the rain would wash away
the dirt of places that I'd been
I was getting older, day by day,
but you couldn't have told me then..
Wars were fought and mountain dew
had gone up to 50 cents each..
But I had important things to do
fighting Bowser to save Ms. Peach.
Power Rangers and video games -
a plastic rim bent on the wall
Making friends and arrogant claims
of being the best ball player of all
Take me back to Second Street
Perhaps, there, I'd right my wrongs
Or dance to that old smoky beat
in all those Bob Seger songs..

After all the things I've hoped for -
all the things I've heard and said,
I tried to fight the demons by
feeding proteins to my head
Inspiration is for a little child
Hardened maturity for the old
But I picked apart the good things
I've believed that I've been told
I guess I settled for a knock off
And told everyone I tried, and
threw some stones into the ocean
hoping it might change the tide..

Come home, sweet Surrender..
Hope you'll stay with all the mess
I wasn't expecting you to come
this late and find me in such distress
I'd like to say I've waited patiently,
but I'm scared of you instead..
after all the things I've hoped for
and everything I've heard and said..

Let my mind
be small and sure
as opposed to
large and weak.
And my intentions
right and pure
before I ever
begin to speak..
Lust of power makes
for a busy head
and hunger that
is never fed.  
Be still and trust,
be small and pray
And put those
childish things away

Hopeless most the time
But now I'm dopeless
Doing fine
Thanks for asking
Excuse me as I
fix my mask..
Bogus cliche lines
But I've been told this
way of life
is worth grasping
So excuse me as I
shine the brass..
Open up my mind
to all the locusts
Come and dine
I'm only asking
you'll excuse me
from a crooked past..

After all the things I've hoped for -
all the things I've heard and said,
I tried to fight the demons by
feeding proteins to my head
Inspiration is for a little child
Hardened maturity for the old
But I picked apart the good things
I've believed that I've been told
I guess I settled for a knock off
And told everyone I tried, and
threw some stones into the ocean
hoping it might change the tide..

Come home, sweet Surrender..
Hope you'll stay with all the mess
I wasn't expecting you to come
this late and find me in such distress
I'd like to say I've waited patiently,
but I'm scared of you instead..
after all the things I've hoped for
and everything I've heard and said..

I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
feel every embrace.

So believe me
when I say you're
the one I've always
wanted and that
I loved you before
we met..

This is what it looks like to
have entirely too much -
Shell-shocked from battle with
ghosts we can't see or touch
Bathing in lavish luxury
steeped to our necks in waste -
defending sinking sand castles and
casting stones through cyberspace

Crickets cry on time
hidden by dense undergrowth
littered with plastic
--------
A calm pushed away
the damp darkness much like that
old rigged-up porchlight

Nobody grits their teeth in heaven
No sly looks or harsh words
No kids cover their ears
Till every harsh word is slurred
It's all friendly conversation
Every noun and every verb
No drinking, wrecking trucks
on slick roads with sharp curves
Nobody overdoses
Nobody gets bad dope
Nobody commits suicide
when memories steal their hope
There's no broken promises
No counterfeits or shady deals
No eviction notice because
you couldn't pay the bills
There's no dreaded phone calls
No **** or fake pills
Just a mansion with many rooms
And cattle on a thousand hills
The darkness never comes
Neither by sky nor in the eyes
of a childish heart turned sour
After one too many goodbyes
No souls that are crushed
beneath the weight of fear and shame
Just grateful bums and addicts
who found salvation in Jesus name.
Tell the dope man you can't make it
You have to attend a weddin'
Christ is coming for His bride and
Nobody grits their teeth in heaven.

We put our problems in a bottle,
sank it, and said a prayer,
then hammered down the throttle
with our hands to the open air..
The evening sky especially beautiful -
Sun rays bursting through cotton skies
And still, it was barely suitable
to reflect from the bluest eyes..
Pontoon bouncing on choppy water
Blonde hair dancing in the wind -
just a worn out dad and daughter
who might not come this way again.
But today, the water welcomes us..
And we make for a crazy crew..
Captain Grateful at the wheel
with his first mate - Baby Blue

One thing that
I'll remember
And I trust that
you'll never lose:
Warmth that
late December
can't take from
those baby-blues

Horrible things have plagued me
Things I never wanted to know
So I stuffed 'em all in places
I thought I'd never have to go.  
No matter the distance traveled
Coffey Mountain or Carter's docks
Every goodbye was like a crank
on that old Jack In The Box.
One day the music slowed
The dread ushered gripping fear
And Jack came jumping out
about the coldest time of year.

Who would know the struggle?
The apocalyptic rubble.  
So sick I'm seeing double
and I haven't had a drink.

Jarred by nightly terror.
Scarred by trial and error
Acting on impulse because
I'm too afraid to think.

Never bite the messenger.  
He loves you in the end.  
Sometimes blows that hurt the most
are those from a loving friend.

If I could only
grasp the wind,
perhaps I'd know
how freedom feels
And to find it
once again might
take the blisters
off my heels

For now, I'm lonely -
scratchin' skin
beneath the rags of
where I've been
Tiptoeing around
a broken mind -
afraid of falling in..

Life's been hard,
to say the least.
Come and dine
on tears and wine.
I've seen hard times.
Let's have a feast!

Burning lights scattered
across a cold, clear night
A beautiful contrast
of black and white
Such a dazzling show
for those down below
who watch their phones
to rest their bones

The boy could run
but he couldn't walk
Had no time to think
No room to talk
Passed by more people
than he ever helped
Never knew anything
except for what he felt
But one thing good
we can say about the man
is that he's long gone now
and, here, we all stand

"Just keep your love about you."
said the kettle to the ***.
"What you have, you have to give
and charity is all you've got."
"And keep yourself together."
said the kettle to the cup.
"Some day soon you'll find a spoon
that stirs your spirit up."

I could describe
everything about you
having never met you -
recite your words
like a Silverstein poem,
sketch every
imperfection, and
feel every embrace.

So believe me
when I say you're
the one I've always
wanted and that
I loved you before
I knew you.

I think about you
from time to time,
admittedly more
often than not -
Making frail attempts
to sweep my thoughts
passed the place where
you carved a spot

A sheet of ice from
the winter freeze
Candle-lit windows
haunting trees
Branches dancing
in the subtle breeze
as a quiet earth rolls
beneath my feet.

Off in the distance,
a radio tower blinks
on time in the
late night hour
A star scattered sky
so still and sweet
as a quiet earth rolls
beneath my feet.

Red lights ahead
Road ending abrupt
I'm kicking rocks
to keep from looking up
Just making my way
down the familiar street
as a quiet earth rolls
beneath my feet

Down by the oak trees
and old ball park
The hillside hidden
by the dense dark
I hear the rushing sound
of Town Hill Creek
as a quiet earth rolls
beneath my feet.

Genuine like a child
Candid like an open book
Exotic like The Wild
Reassuring like a second look

Snow accumulates
on foggy fire-lit windows
just before midnight
---
A tired fire dances
across the old wooden walls
while the children sleep

Who would know the struggle?
The apocalyptic rubble
So sick I'm seeing double
and I haven't had a drink.

Jarred by nightly terror
Scarred by trial and error
Acting on impulse because
I'm too afraid to think.

Let my mind be
small and sure
as opposed to
large and weak.
And my intentions
right and pure
before I ever begin
to speak..
Lust of power
makes for a busy head
and hunger that
is never fed.  
Be still and trust
Be small and pray
And put those
childish things away

A sheet of ice from the winter freeze,
Candle-lit windows, haunting trees,
Branches dancing in the subtle breeze
as a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

A distant light from the radio tower
Blinks on time in the late-night hour.
A star-scattered sky so still and sweet
as a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Redlights ahead, road ending abrupt
Kicking rocks to keep from looking up.
Avoiding cracks in the cold concrete
as a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet

A man staggers in the streetlight glow.
He smiles because he knows that I know.
I nod and gaze down the familiar street
as a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

Down by the oak trees and old ball park,
The hillside hidden by the dense dark,
I hear the rushing sound of Town Hill Creek
as a quiet earth rolls beneath my feet.

My sail to the
winter winds, I roam,
till I find what feels
like coming home

The warmth is worn  
from my memories
Just as it were from
my restless feet

And I'm afraid
to think of anything
but the cracks
in the cold concrete..

Still, I chase the
winter breeze on passed
the candlelit windows
and snow-capped trees.

And, my sail to the
winter winds, I roam,
till I find what feels
like coming home.

You can tell me
it'll never rain,  
but it won't keep
the rain from pouring..
or doubt the wings
while a mocking bird
sings, but it won't keep
the bird from soaring..

You can doubt the
sun on a cloudy day
And, from the sea,
maybe doubt the dunes
Or tell me there's
no God in heaven
Who heals my
internal wounds.

You can doubt the fate
of an injured deer
right up till you
see him prancing
And you can tell me
that I'll never walk
but you'll never keep
my feet from dancing

The sky grey and gloomy
contrasted with subtle ease
the trembling damp branches
of fire-colored maple leaves
As if the mountain were ablaze -
contained by the gentle mist
It was all held securely
Still the stillness, I resist

What is it that
I'm afraid of?
And what reason
do I have to doubt?
As if the One who
tames the fires
would ever leave me
here without
Can't the fires of
of a failing mind
be tamed by
the Autumn mist?
So why do I burn with
such remorse
clinching worn
memories in my fist?

Go to sleep, dear child
It all fades away in the end
There's no way to tame the wild
or grasp for the Autumn wind
Find rest in what is true
when there's nowhere else to go
There's nothing for you to do
and nothing else for you to know

"It's a scam!" I said
before I fled,
as I sacked up all
the lady's bread.
And the *** made out
with all her stuff
having pointed out
the Kettle's bluff..

"You're a half step
behind", she said.
"You don't have to
chase the beat..
Just let rhythm oil those
bones", she laughed,
"and flow to
your two left feet..
It's nothing you have
to try to do.
We're all born to dance.
But some are just
too self-aware and won't
give themselves a chance.."

She smiled and put
her hand in mine and
it calmed my busy brain
And the whole night
we spent cheek to cheek,
dancing in the pouring rain.

.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs.
.. a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, sit tight
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
As for me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s justified by anger
only entitled to the royal queen

I don't have to know all
the places you've been
Or some love that fizzled
out way back when..
Just hold my hand
in the moonlight glow,
pull me close,
and kiss me slow..

Outside my window,
I hear a lonely dog wail
his tired nightly woes
—
His echoed alarms
interrupt an otherwise
quiet summer night

He cradled pieces
of poetry that
no longer
made much sense

He'd add a word,
here and there
or change some
misused tense

But from metaphors
forgotten to a flow
that slowed to still

the penman died
a lonely death
from all that
moved his quill

Beautiful words
from a dying man -
had he lived and
loved at all

but who will know or
care enough to brace
the penman's fall?

Day after day, I rivel.
Who knows for how long?
Reduced to mere survival
screaming it’s selfish undertone.
Aspiration is long forgotten
If I live, to what avail?
Despair darkens my demeanor
Time and time again, I fail.
Compassion is now contended;
Making less sense than it did before
And those who are offended
break the hinges off my door.
Disappointment - my adornment
as if I’m capable of more..
If only they knew the torment
that is relentless at my core.  
Wisdom only mocks me.
She dances around my doom
singing, “Here lies a foolish boy
who followed freedom to his tomb.”
Now I’m cast to raging seas;
A boat beaten by an angry wave;
unanswered cries like pleas
from crows that cry above my grave.

Tell me, Lord.. can these dry bones live?

Ah, Lord, You know.
But I am left to wonder why
every attempt to be the hero
turns to ashes when I die.
All this foolishness will follow
as I lay down and return to dust
and time is sure to swallow
all these fallacies I trust.

I danced in a ten
percent chance of rain;
not just because it
beat the odds,
but because
it never even
considered them.
It reminded me that
systems and
statistics are
man-made and fallible -
boasting with a
sure tone,
yet still confined
to near fraudulence..

You can tell me
it’s unlikely to rain,  
but it won't
stop it from pouring.
You can tell me
there's no God,
but it won't stop
Him from healing
these festered wounds.
And you can tell me
I'll never walk,
but it won't keep
me from dancing..

Who would know the struggle?
The apocalyptic rubble..
So sick I'm seeing double
and I haven't had a drink.

Jarred by nightly terror
Scarred by trial and error
Acting on impulse because
I'm too afraid to think.

The evening sky
especially beautiful -
Sun rays bursting
through cloudy skies
And still, it was
barely suitable
to reflect from
the bluest eyes

.. likes tearing people down
with loose talk and harsh words -
Empathy tossed aside
by the misuse of nouns and verbs.
.. a twisted view of society
just bound to be seen and heard -
Everyone, listen quietly
till every harsh word is slurred.
The Queen of the Night Life;
her brokenness - a crown.
Out-spokenness - a sword
that she just loves to swing around.
And me, I'm just a jester;
my struggle - a comedic scene,
but she’s justified by anger
only entitled to the royal queen

Snow accumulates
on foggy fire-lit windows
just before midnight
---
A tired fire dances
across the old wooden walls
while the children sleep

A wayward sheep strayed from the fold;
A selfish man whose heart's been sold;
A shell of what I should've been;
Forgive me, Lord, for I have sinned.

A restless runner with a story untold;
A drifting dreamer out in the cold;
Lustful eyes that refuse to see;
Subdue me, Lord, that I may be free.

A desperate prayer from a fiery foxhole;
A foolish pursuit of pleasure and gold;
A broken man who dies and dies;
Reprove me, Lord, that I may be wise.

A marred jar in the Potter's mold;
I bit the hand that fed my soul;
I turned away and dug my grave;
Have mercy, Lord, that I may be saved.

I think about you
from time to time,
admittedly more
often than not -
Making frail attempts
to sweep my thoughts
passed the place where
you carved a spot.
I hope you're happy now
and living well
I hope your mind
is quiet and free -
that your safe and warm
and your soul reborn
to be whoever
God calls you to be.