In Hypocrisy Is Solution

Wonder about the rules,

whose design,

what makeup,

howsoever long the game be played,

is their truth in a lacking


or are we always meant to wonder,

is that the purpose,

does it give our lives a reason

for a constant wander

of the mind

to be the answer

might a patent suggest

we will now end this war,

this examination of a fruitless


meant only to pad the walls

of quiet insecurity.

In a matter of words

often the purveyor

is left, are left, certainly wondering right

from wrong,

in a calming manner,

the world lives on,

even after the shadows

drift along the avenue

following another serene

universal sunset.

This Quiet Passion

It is a love, a desire, a response to silence,

for so many occasions,

while the skies do glance the usual,

always, the emotions might trigger,

might respond,

could offer a storm of wrath,

or perhaps,

when least we anticipate,

a light rain, to cleanse our soul,

allow our lives to breathe,

beyond the casual haze

of a summer day.


I stood in front of my emotions today,

asked a question,

perhaps stoic in my way,

I wondered just how far

we might have to travel

in order,

to participate in the aftermath

of chaos,

for it screams that phenomena

stayed with my being,

for as many days as the summer

holds true to an autumn.


While now I rest my weary soul,

the fortune of time offers sweet Grace,

when age becomes validation,

and hearts do forever listen.

I have traveled far and wide,

and yet there is a stillness,

may overcome me in evening’s tide,

as will the serendipity of passion,

an surreal reality as I stand here before you,

wanting only solace from a sweet panic.


In life, we do lead with thoughtful enterprise,

a notion, an ideal,

oft times an inspiration,

to market goodness,

to experience that


to know such character

is infamy

when stood alongside

true character.

When passion speaks its favor,

our world, a planet, a state, a society,

a mosaic,

we are all

so much – so little – so together,


We can be universal,

we may align, smile, gesture, accord

each other …

we can be one.

Sights in a Small Town Cafe

Java Moose

java moose in grand marais

I watched the lines continue to grow,

all wanting, waiting, wishing,

yet I never knew the latter,

especially by expression,

I only managed to maybe gather,

their reasons to be seemed rather

the same as mine and yours.


Not your typical cafe I might add,

the people wanting much more,

than the usual scenario

-to see and be seen-

to more be understood,

to be in line with a certain


beyond the usual fare.


In a north-wood cafe,

the goal is not to stay,

yet it seems the rains have made it that way,

so the lines have increased,

though the attitude remain the same,

we are all part of this universe,

and today is just another day.

Nine Line Parallels (part 5)

We begin to imagine

how this, can we then, what will,

the world becomes a factual

enterprise of disbelief,

hope, a wonder of exceptional


while around the corner

somewhere nearby we corroborate

upon neutral tones

(part 5)

Stars Outside

Formations are the same in the evening sky,

Wherever I glance I can be next to you again,

Miles away yet I am still wanting to be with you,

Not as much in the physical sense as intellectual.

I want you to help me to solve some riddles,

And it seems likely well especially now,

When I am spewing out these words to Henley,

I can write forever and try to figure out just why,

But I cannot,

I still am unable,

I’m drawn,


To a sort of noose of reality,

That piece of recognition suggests I am wrong,

And no one cares to correct me anymore.

Outside, the stars align the same way,

Every night.

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.

still, moon


Last night in the cool breeze,

I knew you,

warm and inviting,

I stood barefoot in soil,

feeling the earth chill

yet knowing where I land

your radiance watched over my

quiet stillness.


Last night I felt just peace

by your beauty

hanging in the distance,

 a cool smile,

lending a calm breeze

to my ever present

human lunacy.

The grace of your presence

felt settling and free.


Tonight I will wait for you

knowing you will arrive,

while I imagine the many

eyes will share your strength,

all curious and alive

seeing a solar reality

always there,

always with everyone,

still, sheen, ominous,

pleasant moon.