I refuse to try
and feel your pain,
such an intimacy, gifted,
which each person must
tend to alone, to be lifted
from it’s agony, sifted.
I can lend empathy,
bear the weight of the burden,
be the star you reach for,
for I cannot shun, as a child
birthed into sorrow
who never walks,
can never run.
Free as the wind blows,
does also the love that grows,
and being the light,
cannot come to be
without the darkness…
do you see?
Do not be fooled by those
who speak of emotions
they seek, for themselves
is who they cry for,
and it is their own ego
they will die for.
Try and imagine
connectedness and love,
are true in fashion…
…when respect
can come between what
loved ones feel,
and what is seen.
The beauty of life is not to
touch the sun, and run
from the pyre,
for underneath the tainted
flesh we become the sun,
and it’s living fire.

Copyright 2013

Pain is a personal and intimate experience that is vital to being a light for others.


Untold Story

And on the eighth day,

the entity known

as God emerged.

The slumber from

deep within the universe

came to pass, and beheld

unto time came what was.

Gazing at the galaxies,

girdled in all creations,

mesmerized by the

blue planet and it’s

struggle for evolution.

And in that moment,

inspiration wielded

all space and time,

and all demons,

angels, stars, and

planet gods and goddesses

came forth to look upon

the blue planet, perplexed,

for never before had they

been witness to seppuku.

Such exquisite beauty

and gracefulness gifted into life,

hurling without regard

to uncontrolled subjugation.

Convoluted in cohesion

with what they saw,

a strange and eerie

sense of antipodal rapture ensued.

And balance was sought,

as the blue planet

floated to it’s destiny.

Time and space went on,

and stars and planets remained,

and all was, is, as it ever shall be

to infinity and beyond.

So mote it be.


Copyright 2013



This is a poem about what we are doing to Mother Earth.



Babies Breath

On a blistery hot day,

After the wash is done,

After the floors are scrubbed,

And the beds all have fresh, clean linen,

The plants are watered,

Dinner is on the stove,

The garage has been swept and hosed down,

And cats all have clean litter boxes,

Weeds are pulled,

And diaper pails emptied,

The car has been washed,

And all garden tools neatly arranged and in their place,

You shuffle down the steps,

And hold him close,

His face against yours,

After a his long nap,

And the sweetest thing,

You have ever felt in your life,

His tiny little hand,

“Pat-a-patting” your tired shoulder,

Same way yours has done him.

The sweetest thing,

Baby’s breath,

The sweetest thing.

(c) 2013

Wretched Scalawags

People can be like maggots,

Crawling all over you,

Eating the remnants

Of whatever you produce,

To try and make you something

They feel you should be,

Critical of every move,

Jealous of every accomplishment,

Exhausted from their lack,

Wanting to be a friend,

Lusting to be a lover,

Eroding your energy field,

And filling you with empty praise,

To satisfy their gluttonous,

Insatiable desire

For something more,

And what is more?

More than what?

Less than who?

And why is it important?

I don’t get life right now,

I just don’t get some people,

I think it must be age.

I Have A Dream

I have a dream that I might forget what I have learned

In so that I might remember the silence from where I came,


I have a dream that I might touch the heavens, the same,


I have a dream that in calloused hands,

I hold the stars that caress the blackened skies,


And wipe the tears from every eye,


To mend the shattered bits of efforts past,

Fallen fast, on deafened ears,


I have a dream, it lurks, it leers,


In blackened hearts the stakes are thrust,

The loathsome plunge is cast, the taste is sweet to devil’s tongues,


I have dream, that soars above these devilish rungs,


That hold the secretness and fears,

And cry the reticence of joy’s return beyond the gloom,


I have a dream,

I have a dream.





The Journey Red

red riding hood

The Journey Red

She mapped out her journey wrapped up in a prayer,
She brought faith, hope, and kindness, forgiveness and care,

“Courage”, she thought, “will help those cold nights,
And fortitude’s strength will spur darkness to light”.

She peered through the window, within her young heart,
Wrought with all of those memories that had torn love apart,

And she didn’t dare try to remove what was there,
She thought, “Well, it’s much better than hate being there!”

Accepting the task, she got insight to come,
She drew in her mind what she wanted begun,

She asked for some grace and a tither of salt,
So that nothing or no one could be placed at fault.

And then she was ready, the first step was pain,
Knowing if it were not, also lacking was gain,

When her face donned a frown and her cheeks wet with tears,
She knew she was blessed with the love to quell fears.

With a smile and wink she recovered her might,
And set out to succeed in her wonderous plight.


The Shift

ferris wheel

ferris wheel

Mingling with the crowd,
Steps in time to the sounds of laughter,
Children, parents, pets and elderly,
And lights that seem to speak in tongues
Amidst the exhuberance in the air,
A midsummer night’s dream,
It all escapes into my memory,
As each moment passes by,
I hear the church bell toll
As each hour passes on through,
And the smell of cotton candy,
Candied apples and soft pretzels,
The taste of clams,
While sipping a german brew,
The moon, motionless,
Above it all,
Mind wanders off to a far away place,
A strange bewildered,
Flight of enchantment draws me in,
And away from this hoopla
Into another place,
And the carousel is frozen,
The calliope coated in ice,
And the music stops,
The crowd is quiet,
The lights are dimming,
The babies are sleeping,
I ask for a lemon wedge.
And am served a carrot,
Intrigued, but not disappointed,
I walk to the bathroom,
It’s dark and I fall,
I get lost in the lights,
And the ambulance siren,
And awaken to tubes down my throat,
As I choke on thoughts,
About popcorn I missed,
And a ferris wheel ride,
Swallowing goldfish,
And fireworks in the sky,
Tomorrow seems like today,
And the blood bag above
Makes me remember how well
Vincent Price portrayed Dracula,
Then falling into a deep slumber,
I hope the ice melts off the carousel…



Love Child

alien baby

Love Child
A Lesson In Algebra

X is a baby,
X is a child,
X is a sinner,
X has gone wild,
X is a girl,
X is a boy,
X is a bastard,
X is a toy,
X is mischievious,
X is enlightened,
X is the way,
X can be frightened,
X is sarcastic,
X, a delight,
X is the darkness,
X is the light,
X is a woman,
X is a man,
X is resentful, forgiving,
…it can,
X is a mountain,
…a river,
…a sun,
X is the MANY,
X is the ONE,
X is insatiable,
…satisfied, complacent,
X is a variable,
…but can have no replacement,
X is intelligence,
X is deformed,
X can be funny, sad,
X is quite perfect,
…but also has flaws,
X is a life,
X is a cause,
X is a tear that runs down all our cheeks,
X is resilient,
…and yet,
…x is weak,
X is my daughter,
X is my son,
…when the journey’s begun,
X becomes kindness,
…when below is above,
…and all answers refer back to X,
X is LOVE.

The Search

south mountain1

The Search

Encouraging words bringing swealtering sighs.
Redeeming a seemingly whirlwind of lies,
Smothering sorrows, apologies nigh,
Never a sound, just a hush and goodbye.

Frantically burroughed inside of a hole,
Waiting for yesterday’s dreams to unfold,
Clinging to madness insearch of a clue,
Deliverance calls, but it never finds you.

You watch eons of souls,
Clad in vessels of flesh,
Wandering aimlessly,
Absorbed in a mesh,
Of destruction,
Til spiderwebs give birth again,
More juries, more stories,
More blunders to bend.

Somewhere beyond this distortion of truth,
And the masks proudly worn,
Yet perverse, and uncouth,
There’s a billowing fury
Of untold reprise,
Like a star in the daylight,
Obscured by the skies.

Invoking it’s essence,
Your lessons appear,
You discover your life,
And it’s perfectly clear,
That the quiet sole voice,
In the silence you scorned,
Was your own lie,
Your own truth,
Denied and adorned.