Florence Tower

The Florence Water Tower
The Florence Water Tower

I drove one day through Florence
And I saw an ancient tower
Constructed first from stone
By (I assumed) some Tuscan power

Active in fabled days of old
When empire had fallen;
And now, this aging structure left
Shot through with summer Pollen

And rhapsodized on foreign scenes
The matchless panorama:
Then realized that I drove that day
In Florence, Alabama

21 And Done

Saturday Morning Destin FL

Here is Saturday morning
It’s my day for rest and fun
And sometime around 8:00
It’s 21 ’til done

That is my writing schedule
As my work and home life’s such
That Sunday on through Friday
I cannot write very much

So here I go again, my friends
With thoughts of joy and plight
That I’ve been saving up for when
I could sit down and write

I’ve no talent for certainty
My work has just begun;
I hope in a few hours
I’ll have 21 and done



The Minnesota Ulgingeach
Could be called the Lochlannach
And no one could object
Unless old Gaelic was their crosstalk

The power of words resides not in
The sounds, which are just noises;
But in their meanings, and in how
They influence our choices

Much feared the Ascomanni
And a great bane were the Dene;
No one fears them now, for few
Will know what these words mean

Changing Fashion

Fashion Thoughts

He laughed at her
For her oft-changing fashion
That last year’s clothes
Were no good anymore

And thought it an example
Of how shallow she was
And always would be

As for her?
She believed in doing good
And always tried to live it
Appearance was just expression
And as she shed her old ways
She changed how she appeared

Meanwhile —
She noticed that he
Kept changing ethics –
His so-called core beliefs
Depending on intellectual fashions

You know, I think,
Perhaps —
Her type of fashion’s
Better after all

Post-Frustration Meditation



Your heartbeat’s
Far too rapid


You don’t have to
Feel this way

Emotion is reaction
You control
How you react
Take action

Be at peace

Comes from expectation

Quiet your mind

There is no justice
Or injustice

There is only breathing


Are in control

Single Thought #12 – Fireworks

Fireworks, 4th of July

I love my country just like you –
But I want you to know

That I hate blasted fireworks
And so I will not go

To stand out with a bunch of folks
Who’ll stare up at the skies

While loud explosions deafen them
And blind their burning eyes

I love my country just like you
Please don’t think me a jerk

What works for you does not for me
I don’t like firework

Depressing Street

Depressing Street

He played out on Depressing street
When he was just a boy;
The life that he was born to
Had a minimum of joy

Their hope had been abandoned
For a laboratory friend;
And every day, in violence
Someone’s stay came to an end

He lived in squalor, shabbily
And found that, as a teen
He’d lost his young ability
To flee by means of dream

He hung out on Depressing Street
With others of his fate;
And made the choices that he made
Until it was too late