In Depression’s Grip

I wouldn’t say imagination,

instead, a spiral of twisting metal,

cracked concrete well below,

the shavings of slivers and dust where the legs go.

A night sky that looms in sunlight,

clouded thinking,

to the degree of a natural flight,

over here, this time, that afternoon, one year

in my life.

I sometimes want to cry,

cleanse the rings of deceit around my eyes,

then it’ll be okay.

Though that song plays out its course,

like a top 40

I tire of hoping for predictability

shed some light on

what the hell is the matter with me.

A rant,

is an opportunity,

if we can remove ourselves from


I remember the time I was told to stop boring people

with sad old cliches.

It worked,

I no longer use cliches.

I wonder about tomorrow

as fatigue melts away my desire to go away.

Good Morning Words

Fresh air is invigorating minds

Eyes slow shadowy idyllic dream scape

Sweet good morning shed an overnight cape

Rise in beauty of life the sun reminds


Energy respond in positive current

In mirror negativity loom near

Always a knock, anticipate a fear

Human condition delivers assent.


We chose alone a state of mind today

Yes, there is listening, a sure fanfare

In evidence our nature seek a dare

A manner of speaking supports our day.


Good morning to beauty, good morning you

Sunshine light our lives, ignite the sky blue.

While Eyes Remain

Shapes and sizes, designs

alter the world around us

give us all indicative signs

decaying lives incredulous


While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see


A cosmetic journey it becomes

wardrobed fashion and trend

we all know how love succumbs

pretty lives in highlights defend


While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see


Kiss the sunlight in olive

tones while our summertime

blues come crashing, we live

inside a day, perpetual climb.


While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see


Lines begin to travel an unwind

across our bodies we see age

in all of its glory there to remind

us today is now our surreal sage.


While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see


I walked alone inside a crowd

of onlooker seeking resolve

with how to still inspire proud

recollection of life’s absolve.


While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see


Standing close you held hand

so while the sunlight blind me

I could once glance in the sand

in same young eyes, I could see.


Sheltered sweet soul we release

While eyes in love we find peace

Synaptic Delights


God's Clock

flash a mystery

we haven’t the ordeal

ahead of us, behind, around us

only memory

something spectacular occurred

from a distance we noticed

perhaps a falling star,

might be a meteor.

Walk inside my dream

see me come alive,

my brain a functioning factory

synapse heaven in every regard.

I will explode with a fever

its alright

we all have the possibility

of proving to the world around us,

we can lose it regularly,

like anyone else

sparkles, a mind’s challenge

Where Does the Edge Lie

I wonder sometimes

when trying to get there

or staying away

is the actual motive.

We live our lives in a melody

one offers the high, a wise aria,

while the other provides sullen

departure toward shallow –


a surface we might easily decide

to scratch, desecrate, to ugly

such is the natural course of life.


We find ourselves inside a blind

unforeseen turmoil of passion

that place, that hideous nation

of the seething nature of hate,

yet we cannot grasp the power

the everlasting urge to become

lost in the eroticism of despair,

a place we romanticize is there.


a surface we might easily decide

to scratch, desecrate, to ugly

such is the natural course of life.


When last I went on my search,

I could glance upon a cavern,

a place so very dark and sullen,

my world would disappear a certain

time to allow that physicality

displaced and maimed by nature

a slow and mindless vacuum

beyond the truth of our lives


a surface we might easily decide

to scratch, desecrate, to ugly

such is the natural course of life.


Beside that place we do easily find

is some hope, a gift of attitude

a place where often we might glance

at elegance, the truism of our love

In there we can become the energy

that satisfy the lust of apprehension

where fear and trepidation bask

to wait, to envelop, to swallow whole.


Perhaps a dance, a mellow tune, a harp

coupled with sunlight’s brilliant task

toward letting our lives become alive

could be a better path to ask,

when seeking the edge of some place

some quiet normalcy, we think to need.

Perhaps the pattern of our lives contains,

no specific lines meant for design.

Listening to the News

I’m feeling agitation,

listening to mouthpieces slam each other,

slam the office,

slam the American people,

Ignorance, forces themselves to believe

in rhetoric,

‘we will never be great again’

oh my, 6th grade Civics again.


‘lead from behind’

Hah! – I won’t go there, but they might,

probably do.


Remember when we were told by those we

believed in (we love)

‘you have to believe in yourself?’

I think we forgot,

I believe we have to redefine ourselves


rest assured,

the human condition remains as incredible as we have ever been,

Stop listening to the pretty faces,

turn off the feeds,

stop fueling advocates of fear,

look each other in the eyes again.

Had that moment lately?

when suddenly,

you looked and someone lived a different life  …

oh my, what a change, yes, that remarkable reality.

That ability to trust what it is, who we do,


When we can breathe again …

The Pretender

Steady hands

a look to all sides

hair coiffed, suit buttoned, tie straight,

ease into traffic without upsetting a neighbor,

whisper and sigh

another road ahead, yet, so far,

we are well on our way

to give presence another day.


Occasionally it seems,

such an easy task,

to encounter heavy traffic,

find an open route,

just drive through.

Though I can believe,

on many instance the lights are a steady glow,

an amber only reveals a fire

when anyone else nearby has the time

to wonder.


When I have on my own forgotten

my mask,

I find the world to be rather

forgettable, formidable, forgiveness

speaks volumes when truth

escapes the layers of film

we use so often,

so necessary

to protect our unknown fear.


Once, we begin to imagine a visual we would rather

live with then will demonic souls vanish the sky.