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).

Tuesday, February 11, 2014


Squawking and squirming and stretching we're born
and then we're bundled and boxed and branded,
our futures foretold by the labels worn
on the boxes into which we've landed.

Our learning begins with boxes that spew
endless streams of cheap chaotic chatter,
then we go to school to learn what to do
filling boxes so that our answers matter.

We ride in boxes between bigger boxes
where we live and we love and we labor.
And in these boxes walls of smaller boxes
keep us alone, divided from our neighbor.

When we reach that day we all move toward
since our mothers began maternity
we get our payoff, our final reward,
to be locked in a box for eternity.