Burns Harbor

There is a place

On the magnificent fresh ocean

A sore in the mouth

Of natures waters

Where the air is thick


With flames set back



How the waters lap the shores

Breezing down the sores

Of the Burns Harbor woods

Where the pigs dump toxins

For us all to eat

In our tiny worlds

Where we have no control

On the shores of a lake

Thousands of years



Please, Come Through

Differing Views

Same facts

Different News

Ratchet up the hammers

Bring down the walls

The new man in town

Is coming for us all

The lessons we learned

As kids growing up

I guess were not that important

When push comes to shove

No need to be honest and true

Be pithy and small

Fight dirty and don’t rise above

The world views love with contempt

Hate with affection

How did we get set

In this most deviant direction

What can the individual do

Continue to see our own paths through

When the world seems small

I guess it’s up to me and you

What we will decide when everything around us

Is new

Don’t late hate win

Even though it is what grew

Out of these moments

Stay true to each other

Love and be honest

The best in us

Will always come through

The Old and The New

Old neighborhood

New shops

Old coffee joint

New faces

Same land

New roads

Old places

Where we used to go

The only consistency

Is change

Old setups

Now rearranged

Accept what moves on without you

Accept the little things

And the big ones too

Know that consistency is impossible

Ideally unreliable

Know the new faces

Know the new names

The harder you try to resist

The harder your fall

And more the pain

Yesterday’s Wars

We can’t talk about yesterday

When the vitals 

Are happening right now

In the moment

When the words fall short

No returning to precious fair

Previous affairs

I hold concern for the current

Not the past

But words craft

A simple talking point

When the conversations been lost

How we spend time

Dwelling on

Yesterday’s wars

When tomorrow’s are

Sitting on our front door

Begin Again


Back again

I am

How is it that when

The open road calls

The mind goes quiet

Simply put

But back in my chair

Armed with new ideas


New experiences from

Across the country

Again I write

I reunite with a friend

I truly

Begin again


Back to Words

Back to Words

Renewed and new

Old and worn

Planted and grew

I refresh in a new 

Set of words

Tied in meaning

And time

I return to Words

In search of rhyme

Hope Hoping


When the darkest hour can be lit

With the brightest light

Hope restored

Hope in the middle of night

I hold on to these beliefs of

A brighter future

Even though the hopes of few or one

Is to lead us all to a future

That can not soon be undone

I remain steadfast and hoping

That were we will end up

Is better than where we currently

Are going