The Way it is...

Hear a simple tune
and here's a simple song.
It's neither right nor wrong,

it's where it should belong.

But someone will turn these words around,

it used to but now it won't bring me down

for i've grown accustomed to the way it is...

The way it is for me

may not be the way it is for you

but both of us have truths that we wish to hold

Which of us is right only time will tell.

 If we never know, well then what the hell

for we'll have grown accustomed to the way we are...

Here's a simple song

for all my friends who

steered me clear of wrong.

Not my mother's types

but the ones i choose.

Sometimes we disagree,

sometimes we just don't see each other,

but realize, my friends, we are still close...

In Good Company

In the quiet moments

your Soul reverberates,

echoing in my Heart,

filling me with Contentment 

i have rarely known...

The simple pleasure of your company is dear to me,

be near to me is often all i need to anchor my Soul,

too long left foundering,

reaching for a hand that was not there...

In your presence i am aware of myself,

my Attributes and Faults laid bare.

You temper my Faults,

reminding me how far i still need to Improve

while your appreciation of my poor attempts

to treat you as i feel you deserve serve to remind me

that effort is not wasted if it is appreciated,

One does not need to Overcome to Succeed,

it is the attempt that speaks of Determination and Belief...

Patience is indeed a Virtue,

born of Understanding and Empathy,

recognizing the feeling behind the action,

the Hurt beyond the Anger, 

the Frustration damning clear thought

in the swirling deep Darkness of Doubt...

Like minds, like souls

like hearts,

may we never part...

        03-26-14

Why Is Justice Blind?(Does it not Want to See the Truth?)...

What is the measure,
by what scales do you judge?
When does the cup overflow,
what is too much?
Looking for flaws in me,
you need not look far,
know them myself all too well,
have kept them hidden in the root cellar
in dusty and rusted mason jars.

What are your reasons,
what do you seek?
Proof of your convictions
or that the prospects are indeed bleak?
We punish ourselves because we know all too well
the fears that deter us from believing in others and ourselves.

Move beyond your limitations,
make of yourself a new creation
Listen first, then ask the question
with curiosity and not dissension
For the road to hell is indeed
paved with good intentions...
          03-18-14

Concrete Mountains...

I could say I  always know best,
but you would know better.
Doubting every move I make,
struggling to find myself without losing the world.
Maybe I don't belong within  the concrete confines of a city.
Feeling lost, stuck in traffic without knowing any shortcuts,
always late on my way to no where.

What I need is a scenic route
to take my mind
Away from hamster running on their wheels,
away from goldfish swimming in their bowls,
away from songbirds caged, singing muted songs,
away from rows of cubicles,
from slaves in their quarters
unaware there is something wrong.

I could say I understand the world I see,
but I don't think you would believe.
Looking at the confusions on my face
that no amount of posturing could erase.
Better said, I find it hard to accept
and would like to distance myself
from the soured milk of human kindness,
from man's inhumanity to man
and all other creatures, great and small..
                circa 2002

Desperate Hours...

Sometimes acts of desperation
lead to inspiration.
For what was man's creation
other than a dedication
to and idea, a hope?
The need for procreation
never filled my soul
until I realized the whole
is not the goal,
that this hole in my heart
may still be mended,
though left for too long unattended.
And it is not with sadness
that I make this discovery.
It is with the resignation,
the knowing
of things as they have come to be.
But that doesn't mean they can't change
or must I?...
       circa 2002

The Choice is Yours...

The hardest choice is often the easiest,
you know the answer
no matter how much you deny
the facts of life,
the facts of love
and what it means to care.

And where do you go for solace,
a drive in the car,
a walk in the woods?
The simple things,
the things good
that are yours and yours alone.

And what do you call home,
the place where you hide
or where you hold against the tide?
Life breaks like waves,
crashing onto the shore,
pulled out to the stormy sea
but always coming back for more...
               circa 2000

Springing Up...

Dandelions exploding in the air,
wind borne warriors parachuting downward.
Green is the field of battle,
land on the grey concrete and you'll lie fallow,
as will the asphalt, a Black Death.
Wild raspberries are flowering,
soon will come the taste of berries,
the schedule of Nature not often put off.
The birds are quiet or elsewhere,
foraging in a new location perhaps
as the sun rises, warming their wings.
Spiderwebs shrouded in fluff,
looking like dusty cobwebs in an old saloon
or a carnival's House of Fright.
Beneath a cloudless sky
I blink my eyes and stretch,
reaching for nothing, grabbing at air.
Aren't we all, aren't we all?

Tortoise plodding across the grass,
so long to get anywhere,
yet he perseveres.
What do you think was on God's mind
when he gave that creature his gait?
A day late and a dollar short, always too late.
Days given, days lost to time
but it is always today.
Yesterday is whistling down the wire
and tomorrow is but a dream...
           05-31-12

Winter Wanes...

Crystalline canyons and ice mountains in miniature
     overlook the river of pavement
     from their curbside perch
     left over from the last snow storm...
They are ever changing,
     each day getting smaller,
     each night freezing in their places,
     hoping for more snow
     or at least more cloudy days...
The ice that remains on sidewalks and driveways
     look like topographic maps of a frozen world,
     with whorls and swirls marking each one
     like a snowflake or a fingerprint,
     no two the same...
Icicles drip in the sunlight
    and harden in the moonlight,
     hanging precariously over doorways and walkways,
     Periclean daggers hanging over
     the unsuspecting pedestrians,
    who like all natives of a city who never look up
    at the sky or the architecture from bye gone days
    when buildings were still beautiful and not just tall...
Light is coming earlier and staying longer,
     a sure sign that despite
     the seemingly endless winter
     spring sits and waits in eager anticipation
     for its return that signals new life...
Let us also begin anew, not bemoaning the past
     but looking with hope for what is to come...
                  02-02-14