You and me,
we disagree
about Democrats
and rioting,
socialism
and increasing taxes,
illegal immigrants
causing lower wages,
betraying farmers
fostering hatred of Blue,
and failing our schools.

Is BANG BANG all you have to say?

I have this tool –
I don’t know what it is.
My dad gave it to me,
and his dad gave it to him.

8” long and 3/4 “thick,
3” across the head,
made of solid steel
weighs about a pound

I’ve used it as a hammer
And used it as a punch.
It works well as a lever
and also as a wedge.

One day I’ll give it to my son.
And like my dad did to me,
I’ll let him forever wonder
just what the hell it is.

Thank you for dropping in -
I know your time is short
And mine is passing quickly.
So quickly you will

Learn to tie a bow,
count to 10, and
catch a ball

Make you own ponytail,
drive a car.
Flirt.

Find a guy
Say good bye.

Love is an hourglass,
the slow trickle
of a relationship
building like flowing sand.

A couple grains of smile,
a few more grains of kiss,
a lot of grains of laugh,
some grains of holding hands.

Each grain of sand,
memories of another
“moments like this”
grain of together

The flowing pile grows
‘til one says I love you.
And one answers back
I love you too.

I rarely ever think of you,
and soft kisses,
gentle touches,
laughing eyes,
and furtive glances.

Except when I
sit in a bar with friends,
or sit home alone.
Go to church.
Go to work.
Go to sleep.
Wake up.
Other than that, I rarely ever
think of you at all.

I think you are
my in-between love.
The one between
my last heartbreak
and my next one
with you.

Your eyes have hands –
I bet you didn’t know.
They touch, more than fingers
and hold, more than arms.
They hurt, more than fists
when you simply look away.

Before you,
all my yesterdays
were hopeless hours
of grey skies and
starless nights.

You came
and changed
everything.

Now you are gone and
yesterdays are here again.

Hello
Will you dance with me?
Hello,
Will you hold me, please?
Hello
Will you marry me?
Goodbye
Hello’s the word before goodbye.
It’s just the word before goodbye.

Forget me –
my smile
laugh
tears
and anger

Forget me –
my touch
caress
hugs
my ***.

Forget me –
holding you,
wanting you,
loving you.
Leaving you.

Forget me –
I am gone.
I am no longer.

I am the Raucous Liberal.
It is my right to protest.
Ardently and violently.
Not only for my beliefs
but also against yours.

Freedom of Speech
is mine, and only mine.
If you want to voice
an opinion that differs
I WILL shout you down,
shame you to silence,
boycott your business
and call you racist or
any other derogatory
name I choose.

I will hide behind
worthwhile causes
to create disruption
and destruction.

Freedom of speech
is mine - and only mine.
You have no right
to disagree with me.
So shut the hell up.

I am not sure how it happened
I am not sure why
I thought she was saying good night
But she was saying good bye.

Forgive me
if I stay too long
or ask too much of you.

I cannot help
being what I am,
lingering
near the feast of  you
like a starving man
over-indulgent
at the table.

Today
Was a lot like yesterday.
It rained, I sat
in a room alone
thinking of you
and what almost was
and now is not.

Tomorrow
I will sit in a room alone
thinking of you.
It could have been – but isn’t.
It might have been – but wasn’t.

Someday
I will get up
and leave this room
where I sit alone
and think of you.
I will forget Almost and Maybe.
But not today.

The Past and Present
are the same.
I live them both
and loathe them both
equally.

The Past, ever unchanging,
haunts me never ending.

The Present, ever unforgiving,
tramples my daily living.

The Past and Present
are the same.
The past all night
The present all day
The same haunting thoughts
that won’t go away

The path through the woods
Seems to entice the eye
The solitude is clamoring
Calling, screaming, that I
should follow it
to that quiet place
where I can dream
in solitary space

We are all the CIA,
members from birth
‘til we leave this earth.

Some join openly.
Some never know
they belong.

But the
Creative Intelligence Agency
is part of everyone.

Some write.
Some paint.
Some sing.
Some hug their children
and wipe away tears.

But we all
make an imprint
on the creative soul
of man.

I am dancing naked in the rain.
There is no better way to dance.
And nowhere else to dance.
But the rain.

I do not dodge the drops.
I do not try as I once did.
There is nothing else to do but dance.
And in the rain.

I did not really dance before,
although I really thought I did.
Before I learned nothing is stronger
than the rain.

And I wore clothes, back then
when I really thought I danced.
Before I learned of the need for nothing
in the rain.

I am dancing naked in the rain
It’s doing its work, beating me down
Until there is no one remaining.
Just the rain.

My doctor says I drink too much.
Coffee, that is.
What does he know about true love and such?

So I cut back, from six to five.
Pots, that is.
It's hard, but I am still alive.

But what I really fear
is what he makes me do next year.

I have been in the arena
and heard the crowds roar
and been in solitude
and heard the silence more.

I have been the hero
and heard the ovations
and been the loser
and heard castigations

I’ve been famous
and heard adulation
and been forgotten
and heard denigration

I’ve been in love
and heard birds sing
and been out of love
and heard nothing.

I prefer the arena.
And hero.
And famous.
And especially love.

There is a struggle
deep in my gut –
between the lie that
I don’t miss you
and reality

A battle between
believing that
I don’t really need you
and the fact
that I really do.

A war between
I will forget you
and the fear
I never will.

When hope seems gone
And days seem dark
I drop to one knee
And think of 23.

Fifteen and me,
the untreatables,
agreed
to experimental surgery.

Sometimes I question why  
I was the one to survive
But mostly I thank God
I am one alive.

After she left
I thought a lot
about why she was gone.
I racked my brain
for all the things
I didn’t say
and didn’t do.
Until I finally understood -

Sometimes,
good things just die
A tree grows old.
Your dog grows old.
And sometimes,
even love grows old.

The shell of the gun
left the shell of a man.
Twice.
The one shot and killed and
the one who shot and killed.

Tonight I’m setting up
A GoFindMe site.
I need everyone’s help
For someone
To GoFindMe me.

A heart on the run
can’t be much fun.
Just good for a little
time in the sun.

So I’ll never be
THE ONE.

I’ll never be the
photo on your desk.

I’ll just be part
of a collection
In your iPhone
memory chest

They were kindred spirits,
so very much alike.
One man leads a company.
Writes business plans.

The other man writes poetry.

The one, what I pretend to be.
The other, me.

I fear losing you
because I fear
not trying hard enough
or doing enough
or being man enough
to make you stay.

They meet in the corner at McDonald’s
every Wednesday.
Old men drinking coffee, talking softly
And every now and then
the club gets smaller again.

Everyone thinks it’s just old men
with nothing to do.
Passing time and watching time passing.
But the manager knows why they come
and he gives them coffee free.

Together many years ago
they shot down two planes at Pearl Harbor
Landed at Omaha Beach
Survived the Bataan Death March
Won a Silver Star and two Purple Hearts
At the Battle of the Bulge
And freed Auschwitz.

Just old men sitting in the corner at McDonald’s
Every Wednesday.

I’ve fought the demons and dragons
far too long it seems.
Real ones and those in my dreams.

I wasted youth
chasing eagle-dreams.
Unable to catch High-flying winds.

And wasted manhood
Fighting dragons, just surviving.
I’m  tired of trying

I’m quittin’ today,
I’ve had enough.
This is the end.

I’m joining the whispers
you hear in the wind.

Do not say I’m handsome –
I know too well I’m not,
with tracks of time to mark
the memories I’ve got.

Say instead you’ll stay a while
And let me share your touch.
There’ve been too many through the years
that would not give that much.

I could give you words
and things
and thoughts
and moments in the sun

and promise you
no promises to break
if you’d just let me
love you for a while

There was a young lady back then
Who started the music again
With poetry flowing
And emotions growing.
But she left and the words just quit rhyming

Cracked up.
Total breakdown.
Unexpected.
Just one day
I went out of your mind

A day or so of yesterday
I walked this land in joy.

Why am I so lonely now?
Why am I still here?
Waiting, always waiting.
Longing – where is she?
There is no end, I fear.
I will not be free.

Looking back to gentler days
and forward not at all
I find myself
Just wishing
that my life
would
simply
stop.

I watched the moth flittering
around my light, frittering
time and life away.

And in the light of day,
below the light, he lay.
Dead and gone.

Like the words I meant to write
to say,
to make you stay.

I am a painter,
not a poet.
Painting with an alphabet brush.

Colors only you can see –
red to you
is different to me.

A Mona Lisa smile
might be a frown,
when written down.

I do not write
to make you see
my world as I see it.

I paint with words
what you already know
but don’t know how to say it.

Facebook, Twitter, and texts
have did thier best
to obliterate
the english language.
Gramer, spelin, capitels,
and all that sort
are goin the road
of dinasours

Can't we please
B Literate?

I saw you sitting
all alone
staring blankly
at your phone.

They all walk past
and none say Hi.
No one even
sees you cry.

They all pretend
that you aren't there.
Alone is not
a place to share.

Come sit with me
and take my hand
Talk to me.
I’ll be your friend.

I strongly dislike
People who hate.  
Because of color
or where they lived
or who they love
or even their favorite team.

I strongly dislike
People who judge.
As if they know “right”
better than you.
I leave all that
For God to do.

Everything evolves.
Species improve
or become extinct
Mountains and oceans
grow and shrink
Love
grows or goes.

Marshmallows
are just clouds
you can eat
or squish
between your fingers.

Clouds
are just marshmallows
all grown up.

Another grain of sand
on a summer beach
waiting on a midnight tide.

Another leaf
on an autumn tree
waiting on a winter wind.

Another flake of snow
in a winter storm
waiting on a warmer sun.

Another drop of rain
in a spring shower
waiting to evaporate

We are all just waiting
for whatever takes us
forever away.

She named him Alfred.
The tree where we would park
and talk about dreams
or climb in the back seat
and create our present scenes.

Back in the days
when people parked
instead of tweeted
and loved instead of liked.

Darkness
is a lack of light
like existence
is a lack of love
is a lack of life

and I know

Man was not meant
to live unloving
so I cling
to thoughts of you
and love unliving

while

I hope for more
than mere existence.

Be a candle
in the night.
In the darkness
Be a light.

Too much hate.
Too much spite.
Share your kindness
Be a light.

In the middle
of the fight,
be the peace
Be a light.

There is no need
for always right
win every fight
words that bite
fears that incite
to prove your might
The world needs help
just being alright.

Be a candle
in the night.
In the darkness
Be a light.

The silence is louder
than any cannon
in the moment
before battle begins.

I crouch, waiting,
scared, angry,
ready to ****
the man across the field
who is my enemy.

And in the moment
before battle begins,
I realize
that I am also
the man across the field.

I am millions
of men across the fields
in thousands of battles
through thousands of years,
waiting
in the moment
before battle begins.

I heard today
A man is dying

I guess that’s
insignificant
in this age
of atom bombs
Viet Nam
Kennedy’s and King
Iraq, Iran and
Afghanistan
And 50,000 dead on roads.

I mean,
he’s just ONE man.
JUST one.
And what’s just ONE MORE?

Those of you
who think this true
do not know
the man is you.

I believe
in Santa Claus
Peter Pan
the Easter Bunny
and Love.
Although sometimes
I am not so sure
about the latter.