Confusion in Normalcy

We do seek it, in our every day,

wake up, stare into the sunlight,

recognize a world begins today

what we do forever then might


hold a key to our solemn vow

to be true to our singular heart

without realizing we cannot allow

our lives to become torn apart.


For I do every now and again

decide to trust my instinct

and yet every time another when,

a moment riddled and succinct


greets me along the avenue,

I decide to steer rather close,

I like the edge of any venue

sets my life in motion. To lose


everything would be to suggest

all of our efforts are pointless

yet somehow we survive lest

we be called more human less.


I do feel exhaustion when spent

in this mechanical body I rent.

Piano Keys

That summer

I listened, you heard

the keys of his piano

swept my life to a dream,

perhaps I was only in a wish

a hope to find peace with you

to discover how we as two

might find our one.


That summer

I listened, you heard

voices that beckoned

a state of mind, or affair,

desires beyond the words,

the keys that played

in my head

turned rather to pain.


That summer

I listened, you heard

my resilience torn away.

I stumbled alone to wait

while your world did evolve,

perhaps mirroring my dissolve.

If only then I knew the keys,

perhaps … well just



Lacking Skin

I draw little attention to who I am

based solely upon a certain gem

some would call the bane of life

yet I might think of none of them.


I walk in a department store alone

gather little if any attention shown

I could probably open the register

take a dollar bill and dial the phone


While standing nearby noticed you

I couldn’t help but think of the blue

vibrance in sky that dreams peace

stillness occurs to recognize few


We thrive in a world of confusion

a constance bold without solution

little concern merits our evolution

little concern, we await revolution


photo found on Pinterest

When We Were Younger

I remember we had conflict,

a peer group,

a close friend we didn’t know.

Confuse that with desires we were not sure of,

the outcome can be rather shallow.

We make allowances with artificial ideals,

I did that very night, when with you,

in all of your beauty and grace,

I wished only to have you, yet didn’t really have any idea

just whom I was given the opportunity to know.

Then the winter air became its bitter cold,

my value had diminished to a confused young

hormonal teenage boy.

That night I watched you look sad in the reality

of self-image I was callous to place upon your lovely self.

Oh to be the young man that could find chivalry

replay that moment with deep glance in your eyes,

if only to suggest how lovely I felt to be with you

for that brief time.

Later, as life continued to journey forward,

and ours was now a past reflection,

I would see you move beyond that world,

always with a desire to honor

your presence, beauty and elegance

you’d offered my own erred judgment.



When I was four the world changed around me,

my family I was only just learning to love

devastated by the national news.

The musty den in our home is my memory,

laying on the stale carpet, didn’t need a chair,

I was the kid,

with my family all together in tears

watching Walter Cronkite deliver our reality

(months later we would do the same with the Beatles, no tears)

as the news spread across a failing nation

whose idealism had died

with a bullet to the head.

Stark reality for me was still a cartoon image,

fascinated by the replays of a dying man,

I laid down aroused by the truth of tragedy,

wondering why everyone else was crying

while wallowing in the imagery

of a human condition I wasn’t yet ready

to understand.


In 1964, we would discover a British sound, a saving grace

let us forget about pain for a short time,

introduced a certain mindset that let us drift,

make love, hold flowers to our eyes, and scream for justice,

while around us everyone continued to crumble;

the forgotten meadow of loss

that when the buds of autumn begin to dry,

we only pay attention to the remaining fragrance,

that once used to be,

then life drifts away only to be reborn again

later in the springs of reckoning

when last year’s pain suddenly becomes memory.

The world would carry on as the human condition demands

with peril,

victory in the minds of the protestors,

a sea of young men wandering the soil at home

without any strength,

sapped by the will of living

in a war zone, drugged and destroyed,

while later in their lives, the mind could only be reminded,

no longer able to produce.

We watched as one leader after another discovered lead

that stopped our rally calls with a deafening silence,

later erupting in the civil streets across the country,

every alley way becoming planning ground

for the evening assault on the commercial world

unable to connect with the personal.

Without his charisma,

Beyond his angst,

faraway from peaceful strolls,

well past new idealism,

the 60’s became a fog,

a slow burning abyss

of revolution and fear,

that decades later would become a foundational


The minds that cried the loudest would be those

that seek shelter while saying ‘yes’ to the man

they earlier in life simply didn’t want to understand.

They got it, but didn’t like it,

well at least until they had their moments

victory with the status quo

a yuppified society that became the norm,

while underneath the pavement,

the homeless vets continued to struggle,

joined again by addicts,

followers of visualized hedonism

not quite understood.

The reality spoke,

we’d lost the beauty of JFK’s idealism,

only to later watch the Beatles create beauty in rhythms

that perhaps even Malcolm X might appreciate,

if we’d let him live beyond his progressive change.

Then Martin Luther King, Jr, was cut down by a savage

that created a rolling haze of violence and destruction

well deserved for the ignorance that helped aim the rifle.

I remember in 1968 I was growing conscious,

a man looked powerful with a similar charisma,

and just when he began to help me understand,

the State of California became a tragic focus.


Today, we do celebrate his idealism, the beauty of correctly stated words.

Imagine how poignant Lennon’s words would have remained, if only then,

at that time, the human condition couldn’t again rear its ugly naivete.

Wakeful Solace

I am awake

late, abandon, havoc

in my head

won’t stop reminding me

how often I remain

far ahead

of my dreams, desires, demands.

If I knew what they were

I might then begin

to overcome that pressing need

to avoid, stray afar, give room

to that uncanny ability

to lay inside a nightmare.

If my eyes remain open

I will see everything

shut lids prevent reality

from holding court

with my sanity.

Playing with words

stretches the moment

further than a simple phrase

quite probably paragraphed ideals.

What ideals?

this is just insomnia you dolt.

That’s it,

the beat down

let the beat go on,

the beat down,

let the cycle continue

recreating the wheel

every day, every hour, minute, secular

in its divisive nature.

Ah, the woods, indeed

a place to crawl into the unknown

just across the street.

Difficult to take the elevator

to the top

of a majestic oak.

Yet when awake,

when corralled within

a mania

of procrastinate confusion,

aren’t we all seeking?

Nonsensical emotions

inside a moon’s lunacy

allows our disposition

to feel that loss

experience that remorse

wonder why we will wind

our lives around a mind-driven

moment of fear within real.

The Journey continues … (prose)


Tonight I’m faced with wonder. I heard about a friend of mine’s brother who is on his final moments in that vehicle of a human body he has been blessed with some twenty plus years. His travel on Earth cut short by an artificial stimulant that decidedly stopped his heart, and now he awaits the ticket home. I am sad and confused, well not as much confused as frustrated by how unpredictable our lives really can be. Anything I write tonight will be meant as a testament for the tremendous respect I have for the family, and all of the anguish yet ironic love they will experience in the coming days, all of which begun on Sunday night.

For we do truly love when we recognize someone else’s grief. We do truly shed tears for the reality of God’s heavy hand when decisions of mortality become the truth of our existence. We experience without knowing, and are asked once again, in our brief sojourn with the human condition to learn acceptance.

During times such as this, we question God’s motives, and wonder why this individual was chosen at this time of his life. Not yet twenty five, and his journey here on earth in the physical sense will end soon, and his soul, that which we all wonder holds His mystique will travel on, at a certain peace from the hellish world he is now departing. I only call it hellish because in truth, his actions might have suggested that that need to escape was far more enjoyable than the nightmare his lifestyle had made commonplace.

Drugs are a menace to our young people, and this young man is a clear example of how easily vulnerable we can be to something that we haven’t any concept of its wrath. Tonight the family holds vigil, helpless to the awesome strength of our God as we know him, in all of our circles of spirituality and belief. There are some that will shed tears, many tears, in the release of emotion that follows this beautiful boy’s passing. And yet, somehow we need to be thankful, for again, in tragedy he has provided us knowledge, a keepsake for holding true to the tenets of behavior that can and will cut our lives short. His was measured by a need to escape, and depart he certainly will leaving behind many joys and fond memories of his own grace.

I’ve been looking at pictures all night long, and all I see is his beautiful smile. I cannot see the pain that exists behind the empty shutter. I only imagine the laughs and good times that were always had when he was in the room, because he really is love, and is that representation of our reason to live. He provides us truth tonight. God bless him, and Godspeed his peace and God please love him and guide him and protect him.