Cascading to Our Graves

For every step of progress

I feel I regress

For every advance

I retreat

There is no perfect balance

That I can keep

No way to create perfection

Keep the lies from a second


Days where weights feel constrained

On my neck

My throat

I go to yell and all I have is a moan

I go to scream

Nothing more than a thin veiled beam

I don’t believe in conspiracy theory

But here we are

Saluting the one percenters

While we are sent cascading into our own graves

Way down

Where the banks collect our clothes

Where the dollar man knows our home

There is no protection

When the problems of insufficient funds

Makes it’s final connection

How did we get to a place of such

Deadly extremes

Some blow up Bentley’s

While other can’t keep up

It seems

Today I fear my future

For more progress means more indebtedness

How can I pull through

When it all seems too much

I get a rush of blood

To my head

I must start again

Create my own hope and go forward

Look to the sky

Keeping my eyes on the prize

Hope will come

Success will come

It has to come

Or we are all to be undone






Down to My Hands

Yearn for understanding

Learn from mistakes

Don’t be afraid of failure

This land comes with the breaks

Take a chance on hope

Uplifting interaction

My destination unknown

Strategy unclear

I will rely on what I know

Keep a good eye on what will become clear

From the veins running in my heart

Down to my hand

As a small child I was filled with hope

And still am today


I must move on into positive space

Remembering the words of a Poet great

The more you give

The more you create

It is not a well to be pulled dry

But reincarnated everyday


Don’t Hesitate

If not now then when

No satisfaction


For the distant frustration

We had to move now

Quickly and in motion

Utter madness around us

In the midst of our lives

Greatest commotion

I am glad that we acted with honor

We did what we said we would do

Moving out into the world

To rely on each other

We learned what we are made of

The tough stuff

The thick and thin ruff

We pushed through

And when the lights hit the stage

There will be just 2 standing

me and you

4 Minutes

In 4 minutes I will attempt

To write words

Strung together with

Some meaning

My eyes are stuck to the screen


Written in an attempt to say

What I have postponed along the way

Returning to ritual

Feels good

Yet not unusual

The Recycled Sofa

It’s not for everyone

The rain outside the window

Chased by a bellowing siren

Distant and cause 


Somehow the romance of the city

It’s not what others would

Consider pretty

But sitting close to the window

That no longer can stay open

Falling under its own weight

We sit and wait

With each other

Hearing the city whisper back

Not all will hear the city and think

Of the romantic dialogue it brings

Friends on the street sing

Bar doors open and clang

Buses whirl past

Breaks well past the point of repair

Alarming sound when stopped

Car horns ask each other question

Well into the night

Much rather being certain

Than polite

And we sit 

Arm in arm 

On our recycled sofa

From the neighbor 

We moved it for her as a favor

Now we relax

In the building with uneven floors

Why would we ask

For anything


Uneasy Life Matters

A mind scattered

Pulled apart and tattered

Will make not one noise when shattered

Yet others will wonder and chatter

With him there is something wrong

Something must be the matter

But no words will be used to flatter

My uneasy life matters

65th Anniversay

It was a conspicuous Sunday

Evident by the uneasy morning

I could tell this was not a resting day

A day of farewell was on the way

My Grandfather who earlier had lost

His only lover

Only 12 days away

From the 65th anniversary

He was on a mission

To hold his heart into submission

So on the 28th

He could launch from this land

To be with his lover on the anniversay

Hold her hand

True his love had lost the love of life

For the one true love of his life

His wife

He was ever determined

One thing for certain

He would not show up late

Wave to the gate holding dignitary

As he must be with his wife

On their 65th anniversay