Preacher, don't send me
when I die
to some big ghetto
in the sky
where rats eat cats
of the leopard type
and Sunday brunch
is grits and tripe.

I've known those rats
I've seen them ****
and grits I've had
would make a hill,
or maybe a mountain,
so what I need
from you on Sunday
is a different creed.

Preacher, please don't
promise me
streets of gold
and milk for free.
I stopped all milk
at four years old
and once I'm dead
I won't need gold.

I'd call a place
pure paradise
where families are loyal
and strangers are nice,
where the music is jazz
and the season is fall.
Promise me that
or nothing at all.

Closed casket lids remind me of woven baskets
Filled with water to the brim
In the end nothing is held in except for the essence of what has been
Bright flowers I see remind me of the bright light you now fly in
Just as color as the flag you fought to protect until the very end
It waves now as to solute, for it feels you in the wind
Just as I do, we both honor you
Warrior of peace
Soldier of love
Live on in you rightful place in heaven

'Help, help, ' said a man. 'I'm drowning.'
'Hang on, ' said a man from the shore.
'Help, help, ' said the man. 'I'm not clowning.'
'Yes, I know, I heard you before.
Be patient dear man who is drowning,
You, see I've got a disease.
I'm waiting for a Doctor J. Browning.
So do be patient please.'
'How long, ' said the man who was drowning. 'Will it take for the Doc to arrive? '
'Not very long, ' said the man with the disease. 'Till then try staying alive.'
'Very well, ' said the man who was drowning. 'I'll try and stay afloat.
By reciting the poems of Browning
And other things he wrote.'
'Help, help, ' said the man with the disease, 'I suddenly feel quite ill.'
'Keep calm.' said the man who was drowning, ' Breathe deeply and lie quite still.'
'Oh dear, ' said the man with the awful disease. 'I think I'm going to die.'
'Farewell, ' said the man who was drowning.
Said the man with the disease, 'goodbye.'
So the man who was drowning, drownded
And the man with the disease past away.
But apart from that,
And a fire in my flat,
It's been a very nice day.

Away! away!
  Tempt me no more, insidious Love:
      Thy soothing sway
  Long did my youthful ***** prove:
  At length thy treason is discern’d,
  At length some dear-bought caution earn’d:
Away! nor hope my riper age to move.

      I know, I see
  Her merit. Needs it now be shown,
      Alas! to me?
  How often, to myself unknown,
  The graceful, gentle, virtuous maid
  Have I admired! How often said—
What joy to call a heart like hers one’s own!

      But, flattering god,
  O squanderer of content and ease
      In thy abode
  Will care’s rude lesson learn to please?
  O say, deceiver, hast thou won
  Proud Fortune to attend thy throne,
Or placed thy friends above her stern decrees?

It grows wild and free
not a delicate rose that needs tending, no
its something that excists even without me
its warmth spreads through us, head to toe
enveloping us in its grasp
it can turn a wise man blind
or crush your lungs gasp

The ancients pondered it's power
others have tried to harness it
compared to most, high above it will tower
it'll transform our days, bit by bit

If more of us tried
not all, but most
it'd spread worldwide
from coast to coast

It grows wild and free
it transforms a day
it lives in you, it lives in me
so cherish it and know it's here to stay

During the war, I was in China.
Every night we blew the world to hell.
The sky was purple and yellow
like his favorite shirt.

I was in India once
on the Ganges in a tourist boat.
There were soldiers,
some women with parasols.
A dead body floated  by
going in the opposite direction.
My son likes this story
and requests it each year at Thanksgiving.

When he was twelve,
there was an accident.
He almost went blind.
For three weeks he lay in the hospital,
his eyes bandaged.
He did not like visitors,
but if they came
he'd silently hold their hand as they talked.

Small attentions
are all he requires.
Tell him you never saw anyone
so adept
at parallel parking.

Still, your life will not be easy.
Just look in the drawer where he keeps his socks.
Nothing matches.  And what's the turtle shell
doing there, or the map of the moon,
or the surgeon's plastic model of a take-apart heart?

You must understand --
he doesn't see the world clearly.
Once he screamed, "The woods are on fire!"
when it was only a blue cloud of insects
lifting from the trees.

But he's a good boy.
He likes to kiss
and be kissed.
I remember mornings
he would wake me, stroking my whiskers
and kissing my hand.

He'll tell you -- and it's true --
he prefers the green of your eyes
to all the green life
of heaven and earth.

the sun once kissed
every corner
and now the
ocean roars
stuck on a ride
that wont stop spinning
or turning on my toes
without spotting
going from
a full run
to a dead
stop

It started with nights
It ended in years
You brought me up
I made you better
We spent so much time
Conscious within each other
Sharing our bodies
Except for one tiny place in your heart
You kept that for you
Just in case
Plan B
And that part of you
Became that tool
That broke me time and again
But hey
You're really good with that sledgehammer

On a cabaret I sat
In the usual corner
Where you could always
Find me.
Misty eyed, sick and tired
Of the world that defines
You and me.
It doesn’t where we met
How we met
When we met.
I’m not even certain
If I’ll ever see you again.
As I stare at the bottom of the bottle
And sip the last drop
Of my whiskey.
The world turned hazy.
I made my way towards the door
And found myself chasing
Another you
Waking up
In someone else’ bed again.