Sunday, May 13, 2018

At Rest

A decade of doubt and dismay
And drifting since you passed away
Did little to lessen the weight
Of guilt that will not abate
But won’t be resurrected today
Have a peaceful mother’s day.

Friday, March 30, 2018

Spring Garden

My Father's lovely wife Ila posted this on Facebook


Monday, March 19, 2018

Breezy

The trees are swaying fiercely in the wind
Their motion makes me feel like I have spinned
Around enough to fleetingly rescind
This unseen force that binds me to the earth

I burden withered limbs most every day
A stationary clod of crusty clay
Endeavoring to always find a way
To mask a life amiss with mindless mirth.

Saturday, March 17, 2018

Madness

March became my mantra
Despite each searing jolt
Of agony (like plasma,
The price for my revolt)

Which forced my knees to buckle
While I just muttered March
It isn’t hard to stumble
In the ruins of an arch

But I would not surrender
Or be shot for standing still
I’ll stagger on forever
Just to have my own free will.

Saturday, February 17, 2018

Mixed

Sausage is just jumbled bits
A glaring lack of glitz
But if the casing fits

Perhaps you can somehow regain
An outlook through the pane
Exhibiting much less disdain.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Remote

Push the button
See the change
Pause the program
Things get strange

Click the channel
Cut the cord
Turn antenna
Into sword

Reconfigure
Dented dish
Pull the trigger
Make a wish

Watch horizons
Now unfold
Binge on visions
Flee the old.

Monday, February 05, 2018

Ninth

This is the last year you can claim
A solitary digit by your name
So make sure you enjoy it my friend
For soon the bliss of youth will end
And though our lot is far from set
I hope you never will forget
The loving things I’ve gladly done
To make your life a happy one.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Flinty

I know I’m not alone
Despite this nagging loneliness
That festers in my bones
And we’re all on our own
I guess
So it’s meaningless to moan
Especially for those composed of stone.

It’s not that bad a lot
As hardness can be beneficial
And flesh, it tends to rot
Pursuing the proverbial plot
So superficial
And twisting everything into a knot.
I’m solid with the solitude I’ve got.

Sunday, December 31, 2017

Resolute

“I could if I did
But I don’t so I can’t”
Bemoaned the poor fellow
Whose options were scant

“But wait!” He exclaimed
“I won’t be subdued!”
And onward he forged
Conviction renewed.

Monday, November 13, 2017

Combustible

The flicker will caress
The wax with much finesse
Providing needed light for those who labor in the dark
And though it hardens quick
It satisfies the wick
Of any burning to be lit by one conclusive spark.

Wednesday, November 08, 2017

Stripper

I hope she doesn’t reek
Too badly this week
For last week I started to gag
As much as I cringe
When I hear the hinge
Announcing this odious hag

She comes in to flop
And cackles non-stop
While I gasp for breathable air
The whole freaking room
Immersed in perfume
An ancient cadaver would wear

But I’m all about
Working things out
Despite feeling nauseous and faint
So when she comes here
I’ll park her stank near
Some projects with unwanted paint.

Sunday, November 05, 2017

By Your Leave

Majestic maple sprout
I’ve watched year in/year out
Each flaming orange gem
That gilds your growing diadem
Makes it plain for all to see
That you be crowned a tree.

Sunday, October 22, 2017

Ominous

Like a scene from the apocalypse
Above the trees and little strips
Of outlets where the lost are led
The morning sun is dark and red

It festers in a toxic sky
Resembling a battered eye
With puffy purple clouds that look
Like bruises from a donnybrook

While in the valley where I vent
The mists maliciously prevent
That sun from helping me keep warm
As I await the coming storm.

Sunday, October 08, 2017

The Pariah Theorem

If I told you I felt fractionalized
Would you ask me what was my point
Or would you call me divisive
And put me in my place?

The quotient of dismissal
Can never quite subtract
From any person’s value
And that’s a stone-cold fact.

Friday, September 22, 2017

Unfounded

I am (or so I think)
But who can really say?
I shudder for a blink
Then claim naiveté
To keep me from the brink

We are (or so we’re told)
Endowed with our own will
But those who are controlled
By keepers of the till
Can’t see what they have sold

They lie (or so it seems)
To one who never fit
Into their twisted schemes
Ignoring all the shit
To chase unlikely dreams