The Other Guy

Not a football type

Not a sportsman

Or a marksman

Not a fleet-footed runner

Not a Hercules


But not to much

I’m the other guy

A craftsman of words

Tied up in outlandish hopes

Of artistic fancies

Guess I would rather be

Walking than dancing




Oh to Fly

Oh to fly

Away from the noise

Higher than the clouds

Get away

When the world

Is pulling me down

Oh to fly like a bird

In a fresh moment

Go with the wind

Go sing songs

Songs of love

Songs of hope

Birds will fly

I wish I could go

Take It

Should we await a new fate

New destinies on the horizon

In our own time and function

With our own satisfaction

How can we learn from each other

New and open ideas

Spread through conversations

With the one’s we know

And those we do not

Here comes a chance

And I hope we take it


Twelve Days of Silence

What moves us

To action

What brings us to our knees

Of in action

Whose words do we believe

When the mountains

Block the path to the seas

When the desert winds

Keep us from our kin

In the silence we must learn

As the silence continues

We continue

To grow


Not old


Unconstitutional Emoluments

Take the pay

Leave the people

Who is taking the stubs

When the president wins

Paid in advance

With taxes due

Who would have knew

What one man can do

With unfettered desires

To light a blazing fire

While a waining night fades

The ultimate game has been


Grip of Power

Display the power

Training our eyes

Not to wonder

Bearing down

Fists of thunder

Hold our breathe

Let go

The ones who have the power

Will soon let us know

That when their rains come

They will be a shows

Of the terrible grips of power

Tuesday’s Unfortunate News

How you bring me

Such unbearable news

How the world weaves


Motion pictures

In my head

The news of the week

I can’t take

One more dead




How can we separate 

The fake

A mistake

The real 

From untrue

This unfortunate news

Just wears on me

Higher levels of uncertainty

Everyday now

Holding out

For good news