Another one in 2 rows
marches to the drumstick click.
2 rows of 3
carry one more soldier home.

A mother cries, maybe a wife,
listen to the drumstick click,
2 rows of 3
carry one more soldier home.

The young are pawns
and pay the price
of leaders in chambers
safely at home.

And so another, and another,
marches to the drumstick click.
2 rows of 3
carry one more soldier home.

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

Why do people always say
Tomorrow will be a better day?
This is a tomorrow, and
It isn’t better than yesterday.

I carry a little book
to write down some lines
from time to time

Tonight I started to
write a few about you
and they just kept
pouring out and
sentences kept running on
and words kept getting
all jumbled together and
thoughts were all rambling
and pretty soon
tears were falling and
nothing made sense.
Kind of like you leaving.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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

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.

It was a beautiful hello
Eyes met
Hands touched
Heart dreams collided

It was a beautiful goodbye
To lonely and alone.

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.

BEGINNING I  

You’re a strange world
laughing eyes
softness
tears for crushed flowers

You make a strange world out of me
when you touch me
and make me
begin to think
of kids and kites
and going to church again
on Sundays
and breaking promises
I made to me.

BEGINNING II

The sun and you
are going,
the pain is coming
and I am
beginning II rain

BEGINNING III

I am beginning
to believe
it’s time to quit.

Believing
Hoping
Hurting.

Lions belong in jungles.
Sharks belong in the ocean.
Eagles belong in the air.
Monkeys belong in trees.
Frogs belong in ponds
My Mind belongs in jails.

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.

Tonight the Black Ink River flowed
like coffee from an old cold cup
poured slowly down the drain.

I woke up screaming,
knowing you were gone,
running down the hall
calling your name.

I poured words on paper,
songs I should have done
and sung
just for you

I poured words on paper,
letters I should have written
and sent
just to you.

And the Black Ink River flowed
like coffee from an old cold cup
poured slowly down the drain.

I poured words on paper.
Lists of everything
I didn’t do
just for you
Everything I didn’t say
just to you

I poured more words on paper,
all the words I’d say
if I could,
just to you,
if you were here.

I poured more coffee,
poured more tears,
poured more words on paper

And the Black Ink River flowed
like coffee from an old cold cup
poured slowly down the drain.

I poured words on paper,
songs I should have sung
letters I should have written
things I should have done,
things I’d say, if you were here.

I poured more coffee,

poured more tears,

poured more words on paper.

And the Black Ink River flowed.

Tonight the Black Ink River flowed
like coffee from an old cold cup
poured slowly down the drain.

I woke up screaming, and
thinking you were gone,
I went running down the hall
calling out your name.

You stepped out from
the bathroom door, smiling,
and gently touched my hand
and made the night OK.

And then I awoke again.
and you were
gone.
And the Black Ink River flowed

Once in a while, I forget
to keep control of me, and
I let me be unsupervised.
And then I realize
how many blank pages
there are in my life,
on which I have
not allowed myself to write.

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?

Booker T. Washington one said
“A lie doesn’t become truth,
wrong doesn’t become right,
and evil doesn’t become good,
just because it’s accepted
by a majority.”

It’s amazing how, 150 years ago
he knew so much more about
the Politicians of today.

I know God has a reason
for every one he calls
to join Him
in His hallowed halls.

But I still miss you constantly,
fond memories still bring pain.
I use my mental braille at night
to feel your body once again.

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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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

She passed in December –
No time is good, but
that seems the worst.

Until you remember
God decorates the heavens
At Christmas first.

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.

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 love
You love
We love

I love you
You love me
We love us

He comes
He loves

He loves you
You love him

I go
You stay
He stays

I cry
You love
He loves

If there were some way,
If I could find it,
I would leave this body behind.

Undress completely
From my bones
And leave my flesh.

I would be silence,
Void of any thought,
Totally absent of me.

I would forget
my breath
and all my sounds.

I would walk on hands
In fear of footprints,
Tracks of a five-toed bird.

I would become an absence
Of words, thoughts, memories:
A five-toed bird taken to flight

And in a year
Of all dark days
I would be forgotten

I don’t understand why
people fear the darkness.
Do they not close their eyes
to give a loving kiss,
and trust the ultimate unknown?

I pull the blankets overhead,
wrapped around you,
surrounded by the darkness
where we see with only hands.

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.

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.

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?

You thought
you should go.

I thought
you should stay.

You won.
Forever away.

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.

Don’t leave me alone.
It’s not that I am
afraid of the dark
or monsters under the bed.
I don’t hear noises
or fear knocks on the door.
I don’t watch scary movies
Or have nightmares.

Please just don’t leave me alone.
I am already that.

Lying here, in the sand,
under unseen stars
blanked by rain clouds,
amidst seaweed and sand *****,
and broken shells.

I am a piece of driftwood
tossed on the shore
by waves of a world
that cares not where I land,
or whether or not
I float back out to sea.

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

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.

My wife always says
I never express my feelings.

So I started telling her
I feel hungry.
I feel thirsty.

When I said
I feel *****,
she just said
OK, enough.
Stop.

Sometimes,
you just can’t
please a woman.

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.

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.

We were fast cars, back road racing,
kids with no missions
except the next good time
around the next curve or corner,
hell-bent angels,
flying with wings on fire.

We were a small town road show,
fast friends sharing life at 3-digit speeds,
and that wild man wild times bullet-proof
young man kind of living,
hell-bent angels,
just flying with wings on fire.

Eating life like a buffet
of crazy endless days
and never-ending roads,
daredevils laughing at it all,
hell-bent angels,
just flying with wings on fire.

And then one day we watched
as they put out your fire
and folded your wings,
heaven-bound angel,
too young to be
flying here no more.

Too young to be
flying on earth no more.