When we are in pain,
why do we remain
in the very place
causing the pain?

We are like vultures,
able to fly away
but choosing to stay
and watch the carrion decay.

I’ve become cautious
about what I want,
maybe even a little suspicious
that it blocks my view of
what I need.

Sometimes writing
is my only link
to sanity,
my last-grasp handle
between this crazy
every day world
and the world
I want to see
and want to
believe can be.

Negative people only see
the black in every rainbow.

The sun is shining –
“It’s going to rain.”

They never seem to see
even rain is beautiful

THE 3 O’CLOCK NEWS

It’s not your back
they said.
The problem’s
in your head.

The lump,
they said,
is unreachable
untreatable.

There’s nothing we can do
they said
under the knife
to save your life.


GUINEA PIGS

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.

One by one,
we dropped,
to 10, then 6, then 3
then only me.

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

We all dream of
winning the lottery.
But if I did, I know
I’d still be me

Me in my Ferrari
Me in my Lear jet
Me on my Benetti yacht
Me with my Picasso
Me wearing my Rolex
Me on the beach –
     on my private island
Just me, still being me.

Are Pandas
Black with White trim
or
White with Black trim?

Or are they just Bears
and black and white
are just colors.

There are some bruises
collected along the way
that I just never
talk about.

Words, said and unsaid.
Backs turned away.
Eyes, staring fierce
or just turned down

People sometime leave a mark –
probably never knowing
they put a dent in some
unsuspecting heart.

I would guess
I’ve left some too.

One day an old and worn-out train
   will come along and call my name,
   and I will know to climb inside.

   There will be no need to run.
   I’ll have no shadow in the sun
   and know there is no need to hide.

   And then the man I tried to be
   will look out the glass and see
   fields of dreams and a cloudless sky.

   And I will have no fears or tears
   and will not pray for one more day.

   The train runs swiftly on silent tracks
   and my yesterdays will be flash backs,
   thousands in the blink of an eye.

   Wave to me, and do not cry
   as the whistle blows and I pass by
   on one last ride to see the sea.

   And then the man I tried to be
   will look out across that sea,
   and see horizons of goodbye.

   And I will have no fears or tears
   and will not pray for one more day.

It seems such a shame
to be a man collecting dust.
The windmill turns no more.
I am becoming rust.

Sometimes it’s important
to burn some bridges along the way.
Sometimes the only way forward
Is to lose the safe retreat.

The hate you give
lives.
In the souls of those you love,
who learn to hate like you,
and the souls of those you hate
who learn to hate you in return.

The hate you give
grows.
It spreads to those
who surround you
and spreads to those
who surround the ones that hate you.

The hate you give
creates war.
Between religions
and regions
and colors
and haves vs have nots

The hate you learn
becomes the hate you give.
Only you can
unlearn your hate
and break the chain
of hate you give.

When I found the note
that said
you were moving in
with your lover
I thought it meant me.

When you fractured my heart
You weren’t the first.
Just the worst.

I do not mind being alone
In a room or woods, or
on a beach or street
with just silence.
Sometimes silence
has a lot to say.

I seem much better
at mapping plans
of what to say and do
after a failure
and losing,
then during the time
when opportunity
presents a chance
of winning.

Sometimes,
just sometimes,
I feel your presence still
and hope
you are not alone
or unhappy
or afraid of tomorrows.

Sometimes.
Just in some quiet times
or in a crowded room.

I fight with them every night,
in dreams before the morning light.
And they follow me every day,
treacherously blocking my way.

Today, I’ve summed up the manliness
to face those attacking my fortress.
These demons and dragons need to see
they can no longer intimidate me.

I yelled and fought and beat the ground.
And when I looked I finally found
no demons and dragons after all.
Just me and a mirror on the wall.

Broken hearts and broken ribs
are very much the same.
No bleeding, no band-aids,
no bruises or casts or slings.
And no one else can see the pain
every time you breathe.

In six days, God created
earth and man,
and on the seventh day
He rested.

But on the eighth
He realized
His work was incomplete,
and He created
chocolate cake.

It’s called FALLING in love
for a reason.
Sometimes falls hurt
and no one is there
to pick you up and
put band-aids on the bleeding.

Love is as blind
to dance or song
as politicians are
to right or wrong

I write for me,
mostly I think,
and no one else
because I know,
I am the only one
and no one else
that cares about
these pieces of me
scribbled in books.

But if you like
something you find,
take it please –
sometimes
some times and things
I write just might
be for you, too.

There are some bruises
collected along the way
that I just never
talk about.

Words, said and unsaid.
Backs turned away.
Eyes, staring fierce
or just turned down

People sometime leave a mark –
probably never knowing
they put a dent in some
unsuspecting heart.

I would guess
I’ve left some too.

I’m sitting on the back porch,
thinking too much of you, and
pulling petals off the flowers.

And saying, with each petal
Remind me not.
Remind me not.
Remind me not.

If I were a betting man
I’d put all my money down
on America vs. Democrats.

I know that Democrats
are 5 to 1 favorites
to wreck America.

But I have hope.
And faith .
And I pray like hell.

You not loving me
might be the best love
I never had.

It led me to
another road,
a path to
another smile
that let me
stay a while.

And that became
forever.

To insure a long
and happy life
with your wife -
Go to settings
Click on YOU
Click on BRAIN FUNCTIONS
Click on MOUTH
Uncheck the “Say Something Stupid” box

Sitting, looking out the window,
only me and darkness
waiting on the Christmas sun.

Wondering what is next to do –
sun doesn’t fix the solitude.
Maybe I will just go out and run.

Run forever, until I find
the mystery edge of earth,
keep running ‘til I’m done.

Kiss me.
Hold me.
Until I am
No longer afraid
of what I become
with you.

There is nothing
I would not do for you.
And, it seems, nothing
you would do for me.

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 doctors tell me that
the headaches will get stronger
and the back and legs will not,
until I cannot stand or sit or walk.

I came back home,
but not to live a lie.
And everyone soon will know
I’m only here for a long goodbye.

I can’t tell my friends and parents’ yet,
I wish I could tell them all.
But I don’t want grieving
before grief becomes real.

Most of all, there’s one
who deserved the truth
I couldn’t give her.
A real goodbye, and not a lie

I wish I could have told her
why I just walked away.
Angry and broken-hearted
is less than she deserved.

But I do not have the time
to love her anymore
I only had the time
to help her unlove me.

And I can bear the thought
of dying alone, more than
watching the pain in her eyes,
watching me go.

Knowing she will heal from
a broken heart and life for her
will go on much sooner,
and that she did deserve.

I’ll walk down to the park
to The Glow In The Dark
Bar and Sidewalk Café,
to my space
away from you place.

I’ll think about
what we were
when we were
better than
what we are now,
and drink to try and understand
why we now are not.

I’ll look around at the
concrete skies and neon stars,
and I’ll get drunk enough
to let go of my dreams
again, for one more night.

Don’t blame life for passing you by,
just because you didn’t jump on
when the bus came along.

Why do people pick out colors
in a box of M & M’s?
Are the colors that important –
is red prettier than green?

Isn’t that the way
we pick out lovers?
Is pretty more important
than the chocolate inside?

When you meet a politician,
do not judge too quickly.
Remember,
once upon a time,
they were human too
and had a heart and soul.

When you told me
“I’ll always be there”
I thought you meant
be there for me,
not go THERE
and be THERE
and stay THERE
forever
so many miles
and months away

People with no morals
consider themselves to be
better than the rest of us.

They are not constrained
by laws of God or man,
by honor or integrity

So they are truly free
to create havoc in the world,
without fear of consequences

They make good politicians.

Sometimes, I just find a busy street
and walk around and smile at people.

Most of them
Look away
Look down
Look surprised
Look angry
Look back with that
“who the hell are you” look.

But once in a while
someone surprises me
and smiles back.

I prefer
being alone
with you
more then
being alone
or
being together
with others

If trees gave off Wi-Fi
instead of just oxygen,
we probably wouldn’t
cut so many down
to make fields of
windmills and solar panels.

A black man and
A blond man and
A brown man
all sat down to dinner.
And no one noticed.
Isn’t that the way
it’s meant to be?

Why can’t we be
Black or
Blond or
Brown,
with no meaning,
after all.

Why can’t colors
just be colors?
Why do we
make it more
than a red stop sign
or golden arches?

I tried my damnedest but
I’m just not the one to stay.
I’m not the one to settle down
I’ll always be the one that got away.

I’ve got a heart on wheels,
packed and ready for flight,
running shoes by my bed
and car keys by the light.

There have been a few
who tried to hold me still.
But everyone who tries can see
I’m being held against my will.

No scuffs on my boot toes
from dragging on too long,
no tears running down my face
from loving’ you country songs.

I’ve got a heart on wheels,
packed and ready for flight,
running shoes by my bed
and car keys by the light.

It’s you –
it’s always been you

Along the way
all the others
were just experiments
that failed
while I looked for you.

I wondered
if I would find you,
wondered if
and when.

And now –
it’s you.
Finally

WARNING!!
Read all instructions.

Handle with care.
Treat gently.
Hold tightly.
Do not yell.
Love completely.

Maybe we shouldn’t tear this off
when people grow older.

I don’t think I’ve ever
hated a person.
But a thought,
now that’s fair game.

It can be yours,
sometimes it’s mine,
but I can lambast
anyone‘s line.

It matters not the topic,
and matters not the logic.
All that needs be done
is say it and make it public

I seem much better
at mapping plans
of what to say and do
after a failure
and losing,
then during the time
when opportunity
presents a chance
of winning.

We all live in the past
much too much I think.
Not history, but our own.
We define ourselves
by what we have already been
instead of what we yet may be.

Our past is not a life sentence.
It’s just a life lesson.