Sunday, July 12, 2015


I read today about a probe
sent out to Pluto and then beyond
So distant, so far from where it began
So cold, so far from the warmth of the sun
So small, alone in that infinite vastness...

And then I look over at you
and know that the distance between you and I
in this small room
is greater by far.
And it is so cold here
that words freeze before they are heard.
And I realize that
inevitably and inexorably you are
growing further apart from me.
And the distance between us
throws that trip to Pluto
into insignificance.

Soon you will be gone too far,
a tiny speck in my memory.
A small flickering star
where warmth used to be.

Monday, June 15, 2015

Saturday, May 2, 2015

Deep Dive

You're diving on a wasted wreck
a ship whose sailing days are done,
lying on this reef, just a pile of dreck,
of no possible use to anyone.

Sudden storms sank it ages ago,
cracked its mast and tore off the sail.
Now it lies on the bottom, far below,
wearing seaweed like a mourner's veil.

Just how deep you would have to go
to find any speck of treasure...
that answer is something I do not know,
it is a distance beyond my measure.

It is best just to let it be,
let it lie on the ocean floor,
there is nothing left that could set it free.
It won't be sailing the sea anymore.

Friday, April 17, 2015


You are a soft breeze
And I am a silver chime
That finds a purpose
Every time you pass through me.

Sunday, March 29, 2015

Home Improvement

today would seem to be the perfect day 
to paint these walls in shades of pink and gray
doing it's as easy as pointing a gun
raise your hand, pull the trigger and it's done

that's all it would take to improve this room
to erase the doldrums, remove the gloom
one simple motion would cover it all...

...and spread my brains over this empty wall

then there'd be no mystery about me
every thought would be there for you to see
right up there in brilliant streaks of pink
is every thought I took the time to think

every word I said, everything that I knew
all of the things that I believed were true
like hieroglyphs inside an ancient tomb
my thoughts would cover the walls of this room

and when everyone that had called me friend
sees their stories through to the bitter end
when there is no one left that can explain
then my thoughts will be just an old gray stain

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Where I Lived When I Was Young

Long ago and far away
where the sun would shine all day...
That's where I lived when I was young.

Where the birds in the tree
would sing their secrets just to me...
That's what I heard when I was young.

Where the wind off the sea
would whisper stories just for me...
That's what I knew when I was young.

Where the sky blazed with blue
and every word I heard was true.
That's what I saw when I was young.

This is where my dreams take me.,
This is where I long to be
in a world filled with the wonder of the young.

But that day was long ago
what the birds say now I don't know
and the wind and its stories are for the young.

And I wonder what has changed
how did the world get rearranged
from the way that it was when I was young.

What became of what was me?
How did this person that I see
ever come from one that was so young?

Is there any way to find
everything that's left behind
or is that world only for the young?

Did I lock every door
that goes to where I was before
and the key is locked away where I was young?

Wednesday, September 17, 2014


I recall your taste
the strong and smoky flavor
of you on my lips

if I close my eyes
I can still smell you near me
your scent fills my world

your warmth comforts me
deep inside you awaken
the best part of me

none of the others
have half your complexity
or match your body

what made me believe
that anyone could compare
to the art that's you

there is not a choice
not a better one for me
Starbucks Sumatra

Saturday, September 13, 2014

When Johnny Comes Marching Home

How wonderful it must be
to finally be free
to sing and dance and jump around
and forget all the people still there in the ground.

How glad it must be to find
a little piece of mind,
somewhere where the muzzles don't flash,
somewhere where all that is green has not turned to ash.

How do I get to that place?
Can I ever erase
every horror that I have seen,
every nightmare that has now become so routine?

Can I ever go back home
or will my mind still roam
to every place I've seen blood spill
to every lonely roadside grave I've helped to fill?

If fate could ever be kind
I'd leave all this behind
I wouldn't soldier anymore
I'd gladly go back to the life I had before.

All about me I can see
every ghost made by me
every moment they gather round
and remind me of all the horrors I helped found.

They're all here inside my head,
all the souls I've seen dead.
Their eyes still haunt me to this day
And as hard as I try I cannot look away.

Their voices I'll always hear
whispering in my ear.
It's with them I will always roam -
for me there shall not ever be a coming home.

Saturday, June 21, 2014


I love you like an addict loves his needle
I love you like a thief loves the night
I love you like a miser loves his gold

I am the moth flying to flame
I am the captain watching his ship sink
I am the mouse staring at the snake

what good is it to be self aware
what good is it if I know you don't care
what good is it if I don't even care

these words will mean nothing to you
these words are just something I do
these words are nothing new

I've heard myself say them a thousand times before
I've heard myself say them every time you slam the door
I've heard myself say them and swear I won't anymore

but then I see your face...

and like the addict, the thief, the miser
or the the moth, the captain, the mouse
something tears the words from within me

and knowing that I don't know why...
and knowing that you won't give it a try...
and knowing the only response will be a sigh...

I say I love you.

Sunday, June 15, 2014

A Practical Man

You should know before we go out on our first date -
and this should give you no reason to hesitate -
I am a sensible, very practical man,
and that's the reason why I drive a minivan.

You should stop and think what this fact says about me
I'm not seeking some high maintenance fantasy.
I don't need some sexy model that does the town
with her expensive paint job on and her top down.

I'm looking for someone with a really big trunk
that can accommodate me and all of my junk.
Someone with a little extra room in the back
and maybe with a nice-looking, big luggage rack.

I'm the guy you'll call when you don't know what to do
the guy that can help and always look out for you -
girl's night out and you're tipsy when the party ends?
I can accommodate you and five of your friends.

So sure, that guy in his sports car can turn your head
but me and my van can move your king-size bed.
When you realize that sports car is just too small
that's when you'll give me and my minivan a call.

So if you want a practical man take a chance
call the guy with the minivan for some romance
and if things go well after we light up the town
you're in luck - just like me, those rear seats will go down...

Wednesday, June 11, 2014

If I Loved You...

If I loved you
I would not want red roses
Frivolous, flashy ephemeral things
That last for just a few days.

If I loved you
I would not want forever
In this constantly always changing world
Forever's an illusion.

If I loved you
I would not want some diamonds
Cold, hard, transparent things pulled from the mud
Who wants love paid for in blood?

If I loved you
I would only want just you
That alone - just you - that alone would do
If I loved you... that would do.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

Number 6

Mirror, Mirror in the hall,
Who are you?
Who is that behind my wall?

You are not me;
I am not like you.
Yet you look just like me...
Or do I look like you?

Am I you?
Am I cold and hard?
Or are you merely a reflection,
Easily shattered?

(A very early poem of mine, written when I was twelve years old).