Wednesday, December 19, 2007


she sat at the bus stop
and stared at the old house across the street
she couldn't see the peeling paint
lopsided shutters or overgrown bushes
she focused on the past
the children playing on the large porch
the radio shows heard behind the parlor windows
she caught glimpses of curtains blowing lightly in a summer breeze
she could almost smell the pies and the fallen leaves
near the door, large and trimmed in stained glass
she could taste the cold with a hint of pine
she could feel the warmth from the glowing fireplace
and the comfort of soaking in the claw foot tub
the slam of the screen door shook her from her reverie
a dirty homeless man, drunk, emerged from the structure
she turned away and looked at nothing

her stare
her heart



just like the house she adored

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Pre-party blues

"Are you going to wear that?" she asked while adjusting her hair.
He stared at her, blood boiling. He managed to unclinch his jaw enough to speak.
"Of course not. I just didn't want to get the good clothes dirty." He looked down at the shirt and slacks. She shook her head and walked out of the room. He shook his head and changed his clothes. Again.

Thursday, December 6, 2007


I have only a moment
not enough time to think through,
analyze, research and contemplate
the placement of the words
and what I wish to convey

I don't have the precious seconds
to ponder pace
align ahliteration
straighten stanzas
design rhymes

and now my time is up

Saturday, December 1, 2007

my writing style in a haiku

hopeless endeavors
lead to the ultimate goal
persistence pays off

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Kissing a stranger

I wanted to kiss her
it is as absurd as it sounds

she boarded the train
as I exited to the crowded platform

our gazes met in passing
she smiled, maybe at me, maybe not

I'd never seen her before
and I only saw her for a few moments

yet, I wanted to hold her beautiful face
and plant one on her lips

she had plump, naturally red lips
their curves alluring and inviting

her smile caught my heart between beats
and it felt as though it wouldn't start again

she smiled completely, with her lips
her mouth, her cheeks, her eyes

she had clear, compassionate eyes
the kind that speak the words hearts can't

I wondered what her kiss would be like
what heaven (or hell) would await me when our lips touched

For a brief moment I pondered
if she felt the same after our eyes met
(the dreamer in me was hoping she did,
the realist was saying "hell no")

I said and did nothing, of course
we're absolute strangers

still I wonder how many other people
have felt like I did

how many have wanted to kiss
- just one kiss, nothing more -

a stranger?


If I write the words
and no one ever reads them,
do they still matter?

Saturday, November 24, 2007

: (rest)

I haven't heard the music playing lately
the soft spoken symphony
arranged perfectly, eloquently

the striking balance
of throaty desire
heady exclamations
a chorus of pleasure

building up, slow to fast
a pinnacle of notes
carefully placed for maximum effect
throughfully composed

the crescendo has passed
the waning notes fade
but the desire lingers and grows
coded in a coda, retained in a refrain

Echoing in the excited heart
of one who appreciates
the finer points
of a beautiful musician

Sunday, November 18, 2007

November (time is running out)

I was going to write that novel,
you know the one -that November thing
where I submit 2000 words a day
or something like that

but life got in the way

I was going to add a blog post every day
keep up with that National blogging month thingamajig
one post a day, how hard can it be?
even I can pencil a few lines each day

well, life got in the way

I understand what these exercises offer -
the opportunity to be supported
by a like minded community
to grow and help others grow

but life gets in the way

the trick is to make time
(that's the lesson I'm sure)
to hone my craft and create something
dust off the ideas and write

but life has a habit of getting it's way

If I could make time, I'd save it in a jar
then I'd sell it on eBay in October
to all those Blogger Novel writers
(maybe even become a millionaire)

But that's a lot of work
and I'm pretty darn sure
that as soon as I'd get started

life would get in the way


I ran into you
time and time again
and you never saw me coming

I ran over you
to get your attention
and you closed your eyes

I ran up to you
blocking escape
still you managed to turn away

I ran around you
an orbit of desire
and you never broke your stride

I ran away from you
fighting the pull within
and I missed the tears you shed

for me

Monday, November 5, 2007

one wish, before I go

I don't like to second guess myself
it's a messy way to live
but sometimes I rush into things
and in my haste I say

it will all work out
for the best
I'm sure

but I'm not really sure

I stick to my guns and
plant my feet firmly
and come whatever may
I believe

unfortunately my belief is in others
and I have no control over their actions

I once thought I could influence people
by behaving in the right manner
and being nice, polite, helpful

I ended up hurt, friendless, confused
kicked about and used
taken for granted

"do unto others"
doesn't mean squat to most people

it's does to me though

I'm still the optimist
most of the time

and I still believe
that what I do can affect
someone's behavior

I just hope
to see it
one day


Sunday, November 4, 2007


the unforgotten memory
swimming in the sea of the unconciousness
broke the surface

coupled with the overwhelming sense of fear
can wreak havoc

the mind bent to the memory
warping around the twisted depravity like a poison vine
deadly chokehold

my psyche pushed the memory back
drowned it out with illusions and lies
silence returned

the memory stirred
the illusions whirled
my head swam

and I slept
the sleep
of devils and angels

which was I?

Thursday, October 25, 2007


I see them silhouetted against the backdrop
of evening's dusk laden sky

pointing to the heavens

some are faintly visible,
lit by the glow a million stars
on the ground

my rooftop
a launching pad for a dreamer's dreams
and reflections

I am aware that I can't fly

but my fantasies betray me
as my dreams come crashing
back to earth

terra firma

my arrival

Poetry Tag

The sound shook his bones
like a cymbal
crashing fast against his soul,
a soul detached from mind and body,
shivering in the dark
and fearing the coming light
he fled to a dingy back alley

I found this poem fragment at the

Please play with us! Pick up the poem and take us on a walk through dreams, or follow our dreamwalk forward and back!
How this works:
It’s a game of poetry tag. Be the first to post TAG in the comments. Then take these lines and add one, in a post on your own blog, along with these instructions. Whoever adds the nineteenth line then takes the poem to Poets Who Blog at and puts the whole poem in the comment section there. Each person who plays need to also mention what site you were at when you found the poem so that other bloggers can follow the breadcrumbs back to this poem. You can play more than once but not twice in a row

Thursday, October 18, 2007

lost in a transition

my internal compass seems broken
I cannot tell what direction I'm going
but my engine keeps running strong
and my head keeps humming along
to some song I have yet to create
but that doesn't mean it isn't great
it's just not here to share, or hear
it stays here, in my head, with the dread
I feel when I am wandering, lost
because my internal compass seems broken
along with my internal clock
my timing is more than a little off
and the spring in my step may have sprung
so I cannot arrive at my conclusions
without mentally limping along
humming that song
that doesn't exist
until I get my bearings

Monday, October 8, 2007

In loving memory...

We had to put our dog of almost 10 years down today. She was always a spirited, goofy, fun loving dog since the day we brought her home. The girls and dog grew up together. She could always make you smile (except with her breath, though. But I suppose we'll miss that too!)
In a matter of a few short days, she fell ill and we discovered she had a massive growth in her abdomen. She was miserable, lethargic and could barely stand up. We did what we felt was best for her. The idea of her suffering and going through surgeries and repeated treatments was too much for any of us to handle. And her eyes begged for help that just wasn't available.

Jasmine, we love you and we will miss you dearly. You were a pure joy.

We hope heaven is filled with Twizzlers and popcorn for you.

Monday, October 1, 2007


the wind grows chilly
as the sun sets early
the leaves dance their way
across my memory

the air is thick with
wood smoke curling lazily
from brick chimneys
and burning leaves

bees buzz purposely
around fallen apples
getting their fill before
the inevitable sleep

dried flowers and yellowing lawns
crunch underfoot
as I climb the hill
on the last leg of the journey

I'm almost home

Wednesday, September 19, 2007


Moving sucks.

With that in mind, I won't be posting for the next few weeks because we'll be moving.

I will try to post something as soon as I have internet access, all the pieces of my computer (and our new home) assembled, and after I rest my weary bones. It may take a little while.

Downsizing sucks too.
Especially when moving.

But I digress.

I'll write again soon. I hope.

Where did all this stuff come from?


Friday, September 14, 2007

Looking back

A girl before the mirror
Clumsily paints her face
A mask she will hide behind
A fa├žade of beauty and grace

A woman brushes her hair
As tears fall from her eyes
The beauty has passed too quickly
Only time left to cry

Looking back on yesterday
Those innocent days of innocent dreams
Life was so very simple then
What could it all mean?

Looking back in wonder
To the days of lost dreams
The princess, the hero, the legend in the making
Where did they all lead?

Looking back with wanting
To live those days sorely missed
Never quite content
To reminisce

Looking back

A boy wakes up early
Takes a lengthy run
Attends all the practices
The crowd loves this one

A man walks too slowly
His body large and bones weak
Days of glory passed too quickly by
Left him humble and meek

Looking back on yesterday
Those innocent days of innocent dreams
Life was so very simple then
What could it all mean?

Looking back in wonder
To the days of lost dreams
The princess, the hero, the legend in the making
Where did they all lead?

Looking back with wanting
To live those days sorely missed
Never quite content
To reminisce

Looking back

Nothing can change the past
Still we’re
Looking back

Thursday, August 23, 2007

What time is it?

Wasting away in this
hauntingly familiar moment without
a hand for support or guidance
I feel I'm slipping away
from the place that held me fast
unfastened, faster, fasting
from the emotions and memories
scrapbooks encased in my cranium
shared with no one
falling away from the repetitiveness
the repetitiveness
the repetitive
repeatedly told that this is good
this is the way
this is right
when it was wrong
the wrong direction
the wrong reflection
reflecting what we want to
see rose colored glasses
out of focus
wander freely
think openly
these things we take
for granted every day
can be taken away
these things we hold so dear
in such high regard
are sometimes illusions
these thoughts of security and safety
a net unsecure
slips like sand through our fingers
my cup runneth over
with a beverage of your choosing
bitter wine mulled in better times
better forgotten today
but I still drink away
with nothing more to say


can you hear the clock ticking?

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

Unlimited Credit

I don’t want to pay
for the privilege
To be like everyone else
I don’t want to pay
for the option
Of being like no one else

I don’t want to pay
for what comes naturally
To be me

Sunday, August 12, 2007

More changes and new songs

I removed the music element from the blog. I now post my music on It's much easier to update and access that way. I hope everyone can check out the music there. I am uploading both MP3 and WMA format.

Saturday, August 4, 2007

Einstein's Ghost

I have added a link for you to listen to my music on My artist name is "Einstein's Ghost", but the music is daydreamer. The link is to top the right of the blog. I hope everyone will be able to listen to a format compatible with their system (WMA, MP3, etc.) I will be uploading all my music files there from now on so please check there often. I will also keep you posted here of the new material I post there. Currently I am not allowing downloads, but if I get enough requests, I may change that.

To play a song, simply click on the link titled Songs under the heading Artists Media, select a song (click on the song title), click on Play and enjoy.

Let me know what you think.

It’s a good day

Some days it's truly amazing

How all the shit of the world seems

To avoid your shoe

And you realize

It's good to be alive

Some day's it's truly a miracle

That all of life's assholes manage

To drive behind someone else

And you realize

It's a good day, today

Some day's it's really a gift

When the grumpy bastards stay home

And your shift goes smoothly

you realize

It's a good day to be alive

It's a good day

Currently in my CD player....Fair To Midland and Korn

I am currently engrossed in the "Fair to Midland" release Fables from the Mayfly: What I tell you three times is true.

It's definitely worth a listen (or ten.) Don't just sit there, go buy it!!!!

I also just purchased the new Korn cd (I don't even know the title.) The single "Evolution" is incredible, and the rest of the cd (from one pass through) sounds great.

I will also have new music on the way very soon. Very, very soon....

Wednesday, August 1, 2007

Really not sure

Breathing in the vapor of your anger

You dispel a cavalcade of pain

Bellowing with insistent anger

You breathe hate and anger out in flame

Am I to blame

For this latest series of misfortune

Am I to blame

Again? For this travesty and injustice

What is right, what is wrong?

It's easier if you'd just tell me what I'm doing wrong

What is clean, what is pure?

How and am I supposed to know

If you're unsure?

Breathing out the waste of your anger

I disperse an avalanche of pleas

Seeking out my own safety

I breathe in a sense of relief

I'm not to blame

For the latest series of misfortune

I'm not to blame

For this travesty and injustice

Who is right, who is wrong?

It's easier to tell if we know what's going on

Who is clean, who is sure?

In this day and age no one

No one is ever really sure

Breathing out a sigh of relief

We forgo all the pleasantries

Seeking an end to this misery

We find different places to breathe

We're not blame

For the latest series of misfortunes

We're not to blame

For a society of travesties

We're not right, we're not wrong

We're just trying to figure out what's going on

We're not clean, we're unsure

Like everyone else, we think

We're not really sure

Look up to the sky and ask why

Look deep down inside and ask why

We're really not sure


I hold the large black and white picture in my palms,
my arms spread
to accommodate for its size and fragility
The worn edges crumble lightly, sending a cascade
of history, battered and yellowed, to the floor
I stare through water stains at a young man, unsmiling
he wears the garb of a World War One soldier,
all creases and wool, leggings and boots
his right hand rests on the edge an ornate table
his left hand hangs at his side, fingers drawn
a single ring adorns his left hand
one his sleeve, two chevrons point to the floor
a single ribbon sits atop his pocket
he bears no name tag
the image conceals his height
he is young and slender
his hair closely shorn on his skull
his expression reveals nothing
no anger, pride or humor
he stares ahead
with a Mona Lisa expression
not a smile, not quite serene

I stare at the man
I can see my father’s eyes
but all resemblance ends there
this man is a stranger
that lived with us for the final
few years of his life
as a frail old man
he would walk everyday
and get lost in the neighborhood
we’d try to help, my brothers and I
by pointing him in the right direction
when he went astray
but he got angry at us on our bikes

the young man in the photo is a stranger
like the old man who lived with us
like my father
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, they say
I hope that someday
when someone holds a tattered
yellowed picture of me
they will see a familiar
a family member
a relative
and someone will share a story
or an anecdote, or a smile
and I will be something more

Sunday, July 8, 2007

New Song - Epic Journey

I've posted a new song titled "Epic Journey", an appropriate title since I just travelled a total 3000 miles in the last two weeks (in a truck, not flying.) The song is at the bottom of the playlist.

Saturday, July 7, 2007

20 year gap

of friends, class and spirit
a few brief hours to catch up and fill in the blanks
- a 20 year gap -
to reminisce the memories of youth
of dances and football games
parties and police
breakups and breakdowns
fights and friends lost

We rediscover those we knew
but forgot
- the years have taken their toll on memory-
and reacquaint with those we didn't know well
but remembered
and those we could never forget

There was posturing and bragging
titles earned and business cards received
miles gained and countries visited
but mostly it was about
memories shared
about the times
the good times, usually
graying hair and expanding waists
children and responsibility
jobs won and lost

and the gap.

Some people never changed
at least in appearance
others I had trouble recognizing

People didn't recognize me
-my appearance changed, a little-
but several people stated I haven't changed
Why would I?

The hours were measured in drinks consumed
and communal recollections
and hugs, lots of hugs
but mostly
everyone smiled
and disclosed information
the answers to the blanks
- at least some of the blanks -
to this 20 year gap.

Spouses were introduced
and were lost in conversations
of events that predated them
Troopers, they stood by our sides
and sometimes sat by themselves
just like we will
when it's their turn
to fill in the blanks

I enjoyed myself
and was glad to see familiar faces
from my formative years
I was disappointed that there were
faces missing
faces important, at one time, to me
and a memory now

It felt good to reconnect with friends I knew
since grade school - there were a lot of us there
longtime friendships that may have waned slightly
throughout the years
but always a common bond
even if we're uncommon now

I still have blanks in need of filling
but the need isn't great

There is a gap that separates the me in the now
from the me back then
I'm still the same me
despite my appearance
and they are still themselves
from what I saw, briefly

We all pushed on
back to where we now reside
and work
and play

Email addresses and phone numbers exchanged
the communication will taper off
as it does
long distance relationships rarely work

but a few will

and those friendships will flourish
because some things never die
and because we've known each other
for so very long

I'm home now
where I feel I belong
back from where
I used to belong

a trip of 1500 miles
to fill in
20 year gap

Monday, June 18, 2007

Vacation time

I'm going on vacation for the next two and a half weeks. I may not get a chance to post anything during that time, but I should return rejuvenated, reconnected and with some new material (both written and audio.)

Until I return, enjoy the music and keep daydreaming....

Friday, June 15, 2007


A stray bullet
Winning the lottery
Bee stings
Genetic mutations


Tuesday, June 12, 2007

Updated music and music player

I have added some new songs to the blog as well as a new media player. I had some collaboration on a few of the new tracks (notably Dehli Sandwich -thanks, schizophrenic mind.) We hope you enjoy the tunes.

Friday, June 1, 2007

Native Winter

The plains were quiet and still
snow fell in hushed whispers
as the bison huddled together for warmth

the tribes that followed the herd
went about their days tasks
ultimately, to survive

as the herd moved
so did the tribe

such was life

no moment to rest

never losing sight
of the great bison

or all would be lost

(this is what I envisioned when I wrote the accompanying song.)

Saturday, May 19, 2007


Wanting, unwanted
I lie sleepless, and dream for hours
Endlessly haunted
By a relationship turning sour

I hope that I can find solace, peace and love
In you

Once again
I will get in

Thursday, May 17, 2007

New music element

I have added a music element to the right side of my blog. I created/composed all the songs with the help of some very talented music software. The music is raw and probably needs some major help with the mixing, structure, timing, and just about everything alse,but I'm very happy with the results. "Duo" features me on guitar accompanied by only a drum track. So far, that's the only song I play an instrument on (and I use the word 'play' very loosely...I am but an amateur, as you can tell.)

Due to space contraints, I can only list a few songs at a time. I will rotate the music and post when I list something new.

Please note that the music loops continuously until you press the stop button.

This is something very new to me and I hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think.

Saturday, May 12, 2007


my shadow crept away from me
it danced upon the sidewalk
it seems happy to be free
my ego slowly slipped away from me
it bounded with ambition
disgusted with what I've turned out to be
my conscience is now packing to leave
tired of fighting battles
weary of the constant misery
my being is dripping away from me
melting in the chaos
of my futility

Tuesday, May 1, 2007


dreams and nightmares are born
of the same mother
the question arises:

who is the father?

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

nocturnal man

allergies prevail
shield me from the midday sun
hide me in the dark

Friday, April 20, 2007

just so there is no misunderstanding

Please remember:

expression flows from individuals in different ways

not every dark poem is a red flag

violence portrayed on paper doesn't always translate to real life
the same can also be said for happiness

readers often feel they know a writer based on the writing-
that's not the case

they know the body of work, but not the person

a good writer can make you make you laugh when he is crying
and good writer can inspire when he is at the deepest depths
a good writer can make you feel like you belong when he is a loner
a good writer can be a friend but the friendship is one sided
he doesn't know you

a writer pours his emotions, reflections and feeling into his work
but the work is not him
it's a collection of thoughts and ideas, studies and recollections
fact and fiction, glued together with syntax and prose

writing is an escape for some
and a job for others

writers can release inner demons or tame savage beasts
but the writer is still the same
the works change
the words change
but the writer

twisted ideas and grotesque images
don't always lead to some internal deficiency
sometimes the works
just entertain
(though it's not everyone's cup of tea)

if someone throws up a red flag
for every poem, picture or file they find disturbing
there would be no future
Stephen Kings
Quinton Tarrentinos
Francis Ford Coppolas
Chuck Palahniuks

or Brothers Grimm

there is cause for alarm
there are reasons for a red flag
and they are justified
as current events proclaim

the human mind is such a complex fragile mechanism
that when it's gears are greased with disdain,
hatred, indifference
racism, abuse, ridicule
it warps into a machine of destruction
bent on revenge

and sometimes
the mind is born that way

when tragedy strikes the blame game is played
with fingers pointing in every direction
looking for someone to pin the horror on
for someone to give a reason to, and explantion
the inexplicable truth
of why
this happened

Experts and analysts will crowd the airwaves
neighbors, family and classmates will shed minute details
trivialities that can't explain
the reason why

but we will dig further and further
until we feel we have unconvered the truth
and we will put in place measures to halt
any other incidents like this

but like a virus that grows immune to medication
like a creature adapting to a new surrounding
the unfortunate will happen again
leaving us asking why

and pointing fingers
and looking for red flags

everything is a red flag to someone

I do write dark and sometimes disturbing poetry and prose

I have also been mistreated in my life
many times cast out
occassionally left behind
lied to
cheated on
spurned for reasons I had no control over
like my height, my color, my maleness, my friends

such is life - we have all felt that way, some more than others

I have no manifesto
no arsenal
just a pen
and paper
or keyboard
and weblog

so please
just so there is no misunderstanding
don't label me with a red flag
when the words get depressing
or violent
or macabre

and thank you for your concern if you ever felt a red flag was warranted
that means as a writer
I did my job

Thursday, April 12, 2007


cut my veins to let the feelings out
bleeding within without withheld
cut my tongue to let the words out
speaking out within withheld

these emotions drain away
the pain slowly starts to wane
the sins of yesterday
fade like screams of the insane

smashed my head against the floor
ideas splatter here and there
slammed my face into the door
expressions nothing but a smear

pulled myself together, slow
pieces falling to the ground
reassembled from high to low
puzzle rebuilt to withstand the sound

of my own voice

Tuesday, April 3, 2007

VisualDNA of a Day Dreamer

"dreamer" kidding


we live for those moments when the planets are in line
and the heavens smile upon us with pleasing starshine

we shy from those times when the cloudy skies turn dark
and when the attitudes fester and the words grow stark

we hide from the rain and the wind and natures indifference
like we hide from the pain of neglect and lack of interest

we fight against the cold and unending chill
and seek refuge from hate and unbending will

we give in to the pain and give up on the dream
and live out a life of complacency

we spin in a circle of infinite dispair
wondering how we ever got there

we believe in the mighty power of change
yet everything seems to stay the same

our world shrinks - from huge to tiny
our hearts ache, the pain spiny

we live for those moments when the planets are in line
and spend our lives trying to relive that time

the luck ones have no idea
how lucky they are


we live for those moments when the planets are in line
and the heavens smile upon us with pleasing starshine

we yearn for those times when the cloudy skies turn dark
and when the attitudes fester and the words grow stark

we hide from the rain and the wind and natures indifference
like we hide from the pain of neglect and lack of interest

we fight against the cold and chill
and seek refuge from unbending will

we give in to the pain and give up on the dream
and live out a life of complacency

we spin in a circle of infinite dispair
wondering how we ever got there

we believe in the power of change
yet everything stays the same

our world shrinks from huge to tiny
our hearts ache, trapped infinitely

we live for those moments when the planets are in line
and spend our lives trying to relive that time

the luck ones have no idea
how lucky they are

Monday, March 26, 2007

Have a nice trip...Part III

I'm back at work, but I cannot do my job since I can't drive yet (damn cast). So I get to sit in the office all day and do projects.
You know what projects are, right?

Stuff nobody else wants to do. Period.

And I have four more weeks before I can put pressure on my leg again (ie., walk or drive.) Four more weeks. Of projects.

Falling down and breaking things sucks.

Be careful out there.

Or you'll be doing projects too!

Friday, March 16, 2007

Have a nice trip...Part II

It's been four (long, long) weeks since I slipped and broke my ankle. I had surgery two and a half weeks ago; I now own eight screws and a plate on my tibia and an extra long screw through both my tibia and fibula to stabilize my ankle and help the lingament and tendons heal. One of my ligaments actually tore off a piece of bone from the back of my ankle, and now it's back where it belongs and (hopefully) healing nicely. I just recieved my fiberglass cast. I'll have that removed in less than three weeks, then I get a boot. At least then I can stand in the shower! I cannot walk on the leg for another six weeks though. Bummer. Then I get to stretch everything and work on the leg muscles again, therapy, etc. I've been able to work on a project from home, and that's been great (I don't have to se the rest of my sick time.) I'll probably go back to the office after next week. Yippee. Ayway, that's the update. Thanks for all your wishes and thoughts.


don't look at me like that
there's nothing I can do
It wasn't supposed to be this way
a burden to you

Little by little I'm moving forward
I'm doing the best I can do
I never meant to be a heavy load
such a burden to you

let me go
just let me go
free the load
let me go

the years have started to weigh
heavily inside of me
I never wanted it this way
burdens burning me

the years never really die
the actions cannot be undone
the redemption unfulfilled
burdens everyone

let it go
just let me go
free the load
let it go

shoulders sagging again
the weight bears down
hearts are dragging
the burdens abound

greener fields eagerly await
open hearts and minds
if we could only
leave the burdens behind

if only
let it go
let me go

Tuesday, March 6, 2007


the sky falls so eloquently
into my eager eyes
the tears fall so frequently
from darkned skies

be gone
get on your way
there's nothing left

era's have taught
there's nothing left

the night melts longingly
on the tip of my tongue
the bitter taste of failure
clouds the horizon

the forecast calls for pain
the diagnosis is rain

it's all the same

Thursday, February 22, 2007

Have a nice trip...Part I

I try to be careful
I'm not reckless
I guess I'm just

Reduced to a writhing pile
of human suffering
by something as innocent
as ice

I fell in slow motion
thinking "this can't be good"
when I heard it
the sound that still echoes in my head

As I dropped my foot went one way
and my body another
accompanied by the sound
of celery stalks snapping

only, I'm not made of veggies
And celery doesn't hurt
(It does taste awful, though)
Bones and veggies oh my!

I squirmed and looked down
my foot decided to look elsewhere
upset with me for my misstep
and the punishment it felt

I rolled over, realigning the broken ankle
more celery snaps, tears welled
and I wondered, lying on the cold sidewalk,
is anyone going to help me?

Help did arrive
and I will survive
when the pain subsides
and the pins (and screws) are inside

Until then (Tuesday, actually)
I'll lie here bored, swollen, and hurting
watching more tv than I ever had
amazed at the amount of idiocy televised

but that's another story...

Thursday, February 15, 2007


This moment of clarity
A minute of peaceful joy
Brings it all together
How it should be

This shining quiet moment

They will say they don’t understand
They can’t comprehend the reason why

But I see it clearly now
I cannot be happier

Just leave me be
Don’t wake me to this madness
The cycle of repetition
Of every day
Don’t wake me to this madness
The circles we follow
We’ve lost our way

Lost our way
But I found mine

A lifetime of crucial decisions
Defined by mistakes and missteps
Comes to a close
With no ovation or applause
We cannot have it all
We cannot have it all

A lifetime of critical decisions
Defined by inability and ineptness
Comes to en end
With no ovation or applause
We cannot please them all
We cannot please them all

In the end
We can only please ourselves
In the end
It’s only us, alone

That we answer to

This moment of stupidity
Of ultimate surprise
Cannot be defined
By unsympathetic eyes

This brief but peaceful moment

They will say I don’t understand
But I can comprehend the reason why

They see it clearly now
They cannot be sadder

Just leave me be
Don’t wake me to this madness
The cycle of competition
in every waking moment
Don’t wake me to this madness
The cycles we follow
We lost our way

Lost our way
But I found mine

A lifetime of crucial decisions
Defined by mistakes and missteps
Comes to a close
With no ovation or applause
We cannot have it all
We cannot have it all

A lifetime of critical decisions
Defined by inability and ineptness
Comes to en end
With no ovation or applause
We cannot please them all
We cannot please them all

In the end
We can only please ourselves
In the end
It’s only us, alone

That we answer to

We cannot have it all
We have nothing more
Than what we believe

Even if it’s lies

Sunday, February 11, 2007


I opened an old box
long forgotten

It's sides told a story of use
sagging, soft, no corners

I accepted it's weight carefully
setting it down on the floor

My motions stirred the coat of dust
that cloaked the mystery

I gingerly opened the first flap
then the others, delicate yet strong

Amid the clippings and photos
trifle momentos and souveniers

I found something I had been missing
A piece of my heart

What have you found today?

Monday, February 5, 2007


we all whittle away at life
each shaving is a moment
an experience
another whack at fulfillment
each stroke
molding our existence
sometimes with precision
other times with reckless abandon

many dwell on the shavings,
thinking the biggest are the best
others focus on the precision
the finer cut the more realistic
while some are intent on the blade
the sharper the better

who is right
and who is wrong

when each can carve
a beautiful sculpture

all their own?

Friday, January 26, 2007


It’s funny, in that ironic sort of way
I could finally cruise along, content with events and my place
Life could be better, but it could be worse
That’s the irony, that I thought that
it did get worse
Someone stuck the rod of betrayal in my spokes, and I went flying
I thought I could land on the soft grass, or maybe some dirt
But no
I landed on the shards of a million broken dreams
And they tore my heart out
I guess it’s not that funny after all

Wednesday, January 24, 2007


I can see you on the edge of my dreams
Hunting me
Invading my every moment
Penetrating my very core
Persuading the masses around me
Until I finally lock the door

And hide


I just want to apologize
(even though some think this is a point of weakness)
For all that I have done
Against you

But screw you
If you can’t take a joke

Tuesday, January 2, 2007


The old year ended
a complete work - illustrated
through thought and action
and inaction
through deeds done and undone
with sunrises and sunsets
some rain and some pain
the ticking of life
in my memory
The new year begins
an incomplete work - empty canvas
waiting for my willing mind and hand
to complete it
with new hopes and dreams
renewed desires and interests
and promises unbroken
an opportunity to do it right
or do it again
or just
do it
a blank canvas
that holds a world
of possibilities
just like
the new year