For her

You are but greatness
in the form of cells
of molecules and particles
of all that is well

Sleeping and waking
eating and drinking
the rest are just moments
to stop incessant thinking

Moments of seeking
of dreaming and speaking
to solve what we’re seeing
but with you, just being


The escape of words that control the understanding of our lives
held in to boil over the angst of our existence
thought over, measured, and released
the burdens in our soul lightened
the words that harm us
now hurting others

To wish to have held them in longer
laying suffering upon my own heart
now I stand victorious, unburdened
with a guilt that flows through my wretched soul

Day Dreams

Lost in daydreams of wealth and worldly gain
only to awaken to pain staking sweats and gasps of lonely breaths
marching along these steps to be swept of my feet
by the tides of life that wish nothing but to crack my concrete

Sick, stifled and belittled by visions so grandiose
sniffling, unable to reach for my daily dose
the ghosts of success undressing me to dry tears
to the hunger and wants of life that I hold so near

Provoked by dreams until my life is revoked
with torrid ambitions, my actions provoked
I cannot sit still and I will not lie down
I must move forward to my crown on high ground

A Working Man

The piles of pressure
mounted upon the working man’s shoulder
of mountainous worries, of worldly woes
lugging humankind across treacherous tracks in searching and in discovery
fitting the structures of a simple life
in the form of friends and family

The given handed out no more
the complexities of life gravely misunderstood
a bitterness manifesting, a silence ingested
tested by ticking patience, graded by the moments spent in contentment
without reason to resent
seasoned to contend with times changing
rearranging priorities
to savor the minority of moments that are spent in satisfying breaths


Lapping ourselves in repetition
catching words in the wind
“the end is near” they warned
yet we live it again and again

The morning, the night
the naps in the afternoon light
past the fright of never waking from our slumbers
half asleep through shaking thunders

Blunders and error that cost us great
now marked off as the will of fate
never wishing to be separate in our standing
a peace of mind the only demanding

There was no time to look back
there was little that we could do
we played the game put forth for us
until there was little left to prove

Now we wait
between the hard lines and warm breaths
amidst the warnings and bold threats
the same old sweats and cold bets

One day we will end
and that day will be tragic
or we could start today
and live away our little lives of magic

The Dice

A roll of dice to determine a birth between treachery and safe life
a safe flight to seek space without war
a safe night to see a space full of stars

But bombs drop and babies are born
just as worn bodies take on life from dusk until dawn

The dice are rolled and stories are told
and it is mere luck where our births unfold

Nature (a view from my train seat)

Long lush scenes of nature so green
in August rain, the forests that flash past my window pane
for miles and miles, the pastures and fields
unveil and reveal, cover ground forever between cities of steel

Leaves and branches dropping into trenches and gutters
a buttered view
uttered between cool breaths of unfettered dew

The green happening wrapping around the speeding metal tube
as free as the trees and petals of which we once knew


A desperate search for words in cupboards
nowhere to be found, no traces and no sounds
minds emptied of priceless prose
bookish breathing stymied by lifeless blows

Where have the words gone?
who has carried off the poetic throngs?
Subdued by the future gone wrong
and the goodbyes of life so long

Now carrying this cabinet emptied of it graces
intent on filling it with life’s stories and faces
places to go and people to see
to get back the words of cupboards so free


A helpless cry in nighttime sky
a silent howl in the eyes of an owl
a strange motive in darkness infesting
to awake my sleeping mind from its state of resting

Who do I hear from so far but so near?
Crying in the laughter of others so dear
a fear injected into this sound of worry
I scurry to the shutters to shut out the sound in a hurry

The wailing voice amidst voices so joyful
I stir in unease with my eyes so mindful
flipping on the switches to shake the night
the scream of woes disappearing into the lights


Writing long words with short meanings leaning towards obscured feeling.
I am dreaming, do not wake me or take me for a fool. Let me drool upon my pillow, let me struggle with my willow as I set sail and bellow at the top of my lungs “Today I will do well and I shall not be hung”

The clinging struggle upon my expression, without depressions or false impressions, is learning a lesson with every letter to counteract inward repression from the outer world recession.

I am a man, not a girl, I am steel, not a pearl, I am your disease, not a germ, and I am the rain, not a worm.  Now watch me squirm and shake out my freedom, choked at the neck and bleeding for my eardrum until the man is reduced to a pile of rubble, until the metal is melted down to flaccid, until sickness is reduced down to ashes, and the rain is nothing more than a series of wet patches.

Watch me rise with surprise, see my truth turning within your eyes, my silence firmly planted within my cries and joining the ranks of those in success woefully despised. But triumph is fleeting, victories reduced to beatings and so I will keep sleeping and cheating myself of the realities of a world that never promised anything but my defeating.