Sunday, October 19, 2014


Cold foggy dusk by a lake
Fireplace with tea
Book of poetry
Naked with you under a quilt
Piano tinkling downstairs
Dog curled on the floor
Misty morning run in the woods
You in a rocking chair knitting
Slight sweat after raking
Cary Grant movie on TV
Singing Beatles songs together
Warmed pot of beans and cornbread
The first soft snow
Tossing the football
Deep sleep up early warm shower
Holding hands

Thursday, October 16, 2014

Life's Questions

What have I done?
It's the saddest of questions
Uncertainty being a yoke one wears
Always everywhere
The gnawing sense of not knowing
The truth if your own existence
Confusion mixed with doubt
Spiced with a dash -- perhaps -- of psychosis
And why not?
Absolute surety can be an awful thing
Leading us to dead ends
To be lost is still to be looking
Seeking asking wondering
It is to be alive
The curious are stronger

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Mirror Mirror

How I railed madly at you
How I stood before you in anger
How said such harsh words
How wicked I must have seemed

But you were brave
You were steadfast
You did not bow
You did not waver

The raging tumult inside me
Came cascading out in great bursts
Misdirected at you
But surely hitting its mark

What a tragedy to have done this
How you must have suffered
What an injustice done
But you carry on still

It was me
And you are me
O foul mirror
Look at what you’ve done

Tuesday, October 14, 2014


I am hearing the mindless masses
The words they speak like endless gasses
So many utterances with no direction
My mind forever attempting deflection
On and on their voices do prattle
Shuffling through life like so much cattle
Observations are so obvious and trite
I try to ignore them with all my might
But their voices everywhere do fill the room
Which thus descends ever deeper into gloom
I do my best to shed some light
But am afraid it is a hopeless fight
The conversations continue they never cease
But through this poem I've said my piece

Monday, October 13, 2014


Sleepless tossing nights of angry insomnia
Long hours of staring at self
Bewildered by passionless thoughts
Tomorrow waiting patiently while I struggle
No place to put yesterday
Today never was
I fumble through my mind searching for minutes
The hours thus evaporate
And a tincture of quietude bursts loudly
Unforeseen questions dwell with angels
Released at inopportune times
Placing awkward contemplation
Square into the forefront of a woozy mind
Mind mind mind
And I don’t won’t couldn’t wouldn’t
Resolute wonder battles ennui
And I can find no home for the hurt
All is swirling and I am lost again
Dreaming awake of a 1950’s Berkeley coffeehouse
Where I scribble notes on crumpled paper
Where cigarette smoke hangs resilient
Where conversation is interrupted by laughter
And coughs and clanging dishes
The coffee is getting cold
There are nickels on my table
I buy a refill
Amid whorish comments from a silly schizoid
I scratch my head and wonder at the woman
Standing by the door idly stroking her long black hair
Knowing somehow that we will someday be lovers
And that my novel will be published
By a small local press
And she will give me babies
That I will drive a Volkswagen and be
A very Sixties kind of guy
But first I must continue my scribbles
And hope for inspiration
Or am I still here in the 21st century
Trying to get some fucking sleep