Monday, March 28, 2016

Feeding Time

Tid-bits of fish food
sprinkled on the surface
bottom feeders ascend


Narcissistic superiority
demanding respect
receiving none
as it has not been earned

Sunday, March 27, 2016

Old Age

Old age
a state of mind
when to that which is new
a man becomes blind
a body may age
but one thing I find
if you're still young at heart
your life's really shined

Friday, March 25, 2016

So Tired

I've been told it will be OK
that we'll be safe once again
I sit and question when
my hope squashed daily

driven by misguided fundamentalists
resident evil shouting out loud
through a hail of bullets
and the explosive vests of suicide bombers
will the time ever arrive
freedom from the terrorists
seems only a dream

sparked by the prejudice of the ignorant
leaving death and pain in its wake
another evil that lives next door
these bigots seem bent on attempting genocide
the eradication of anyone who is not exactly like them
is building a master race their wish
I was taught that those days were behind us
told it could never happen again
especially in this US of A
yet that is the political stage that we find before us
it never seems to get any better

I ask again
when will we be safe again
will there come a time men will respect each other
allow others to practice their own religious beliefs
without the ridicule
will the day come when men will put hate aside
a day they will share kindness rather than abuse
I dream of that day
but the wait
so tired

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Come Sit

Times may be many
where things might not go my way
but that will never be reason
to hold my children at bay
it's a love like no other
they're my babies you see
I just hope that they realize
I've still got a strong healthy knee
come sit on my lap
let me hold you once more
and whether you're coming or going
there will be a hug at the door

Friday, March 4, 2016

Write On

Does poetry really depend on new ideas
fresh words concerning the nature of lives

Haven't the ideas with their words
all been presented

Throughout time, in one form or another
the stories all been told

Do we really think we have created something new
something original
by changing names and places

The expressions used changed
and repeated time and again

Then labelled as cliché
as some have recognized the story

There is nothing new

Nothing purely original

It is all cliché to someone

If new and original are the requirements
and it's all been said

Then poetry is dead

Write on
share your heart
and though it's been said
tell your story

Somebody needs to hear it again

Wednesday, March 2, 2016


One eye blind
self pity grows
with each day

One eye remains
true beauty seen
for the first time

Tuesday, March 1, 2016


life will not wait
not for my decision
what it brings me
will be what it is

a day of joy
bright and cheery
a day of sorrow
dark and dreary

I have no choice
no control

those of joy
when they come
they're wonderful
I feel all is well
I see myself
on top of the world

those of sorrow
as if from nowhere
they appear
leaving me sad
feeling buried
beneath my troubles
no way to rise
not from the spiritual grave
that they dig for me

where is the escape
promised from my youth

where I wonder
is that silver lining
that easement
that is supposed to come
with the storms

my search only leaves darkness
the deep grey of a clouded heart
while the comfort is there
being hidden by my expectations
rather than received through acceptance