If I Could …

… I might just decide to disappear,

like a folktale that doesn’t receive


I don’t really wonder about outcome,

that’s not the point actually,

that’s more the reason I just cannot

step off the ledge and fly away today.

Now do trust me conscience when I speak to you,

I will not forgive a soul that believes me,

for this is a fantasy and what better way

to create a story than allow some conflict

to raise some particular alarm.

Imagine if when the dust settled there was nothing wrong,

and the world would continue at a normal beat,

you know, listen, if you bend your ear close,

you’ll get the rhythm – it really hasn’t changed

since whenever a man and woman

discovered their seductive parts

would create more … conflict.

Yet when the ashes do finally blow away

in the wind like the old song goes,

there will be too many memories that remain,

too many moments that suggest

that purpose piece we all struggle to discover

remains a pleasant blue, an iridescent glow

that calms everyone at the end of the day.

So hug me with your words, I will stick around

to watch her grow, to see him succeed,

to share my world with you,

the challenges that give me pause.

If I could … I’ll be right by your side.

Let’s watch the sunrise together, again.

I Remember Why

I started writing again

to better understand

why words had such an impact

on the world around me.

I know I can put a phrase together

more easily than most,

but at the same time,

if I cannot win the battle with my internal demons,

what is really the point in putting words together

if their value

only remains a vulgar

attempt to have meaning?


See the world through crystal shutters

everything vague

perhaps indiscernable

only that rather opaque disjointed

ill-defined and unspoken truth.


‘Therein lies the rub’ the words of William …

Centuries ago, there were wise souls that spoke

of a universal language

moving storms and winning battles

through the sharp tongue of wit,

a banter that many a difficult outcome,

might easily have dispelled.


Yet, today, the fury rages,

we all seem caught inside the same,

rather delicious and provocative labyrinth.

At times when the right energy emanates

through walls of certain texture,

why then, how is it possible

everyone seems crystal clear.


Or might we be saying everyone,

is it ‘everyman’ keeps our tears alive?

I remember why, I just have difficulty

when I try to find the words.

Part of You

I am a part of you, if you let me,

I exist because of you, because you let me,

and now it is time to say good-bye

to old ideas,

to former complements,

to suggest we move on and

better understand,

our lives are meant for growing.


When I feel like I do

I sometimes wonder about you

whether you might know the same

if the fleeting moments

still make sense

as that autumn day

when we really didn’t know,

but back when no one really cared.


Now in the twilight

a wide array of life above me

sparkling like layers of brushstrokes

holding court like a canvas

placed in the center room

for everyone’s eyes everywhere

to help recognize we’re not alone,

yet, we really are alone.


So I fill the time with nostalgia,

when I think about you,

and how you might know me today,

I can’t be proud,

I’ve never know how to allow myself

to feel really proud.

Instead, I keep carrying my satchel

the one that holds my dreams,

I can’t afford to spill them

more than I already have …

They remain a part of you.

Just, Than


The news the other day suggested: listen to this

like any other moment, the words were unheard.

Instead there were flashes of pretty people praying,

scads of lads and lassies being themselves for us.

Yet that was missed again and instead the threat,

that incessant reality of war and terror met our eyes.

For that is what he wants you to hear about today

not suggesting a capitalized surname on this one,

but more the media driven hypocrisy that bleeds

into our living space, our garage steps, car radios.

There is that sound of nauseated, dripped out sad,

the reality of our times, only magnified again, again.

Do you remember when a ‘just, than‘ moment might

transform your state of mind onto sandy beachfronts,

a golf course on the Riviera, where she and you live.

Can someone bring back that mystique we all miss

when the sun begins to set while we are left alone,

only to be easily drawn in by the man, by the man.

That certain entity of ‘everyman’ that He or She …

Oh somehow the Plan became another parody.

Keeping Up

I want to be angry about my pain

but then I look at your daily struggle.

I seek some validation in my name,

I realize you cannot be my ally.

When yesterday I recognize how just,

almost, cannot be thought of together

while time delivers health to you in jest.

A storm exists swells beyond, but whether

the report might soldier on, the reigns

are held at bay for this speaks wise today.

I cry a lot when I imagine slow

my life has become what now is today

A circus act of scrutiny that fades;

Wild notions value souls so far away

Forget Me Next Time

Please your time is wasted

wonder about someone else

pity the wise who stay away

to recognize the value of no result


We speak to no one if we suggest

anyone at all can really matter.

Last week he was beaten to death

and we looked away

so that conversation would

never occur anymore.

Nevermore, Nevermore, Nevermore

there is a beauty in an oxymoron

especially when it reveals the …

Today we speak of Ebola

lest we forget what our greater

values might become if we focus

on feeding the hungry

and clothing the homeless

and saving the children …

ah, it always falls back on that.

Forget me again, so the next time …