The days are hard, She’s tired, and Frustrated; A better life — For so long, now, She’s waited — She’s more and more An animal Who’s sessile — She’s sui generis But not That special — The scenery Goes by, and she’s Reflecting — Another day Of talk without Connecting — A worker’s job – … Continue reading "Snapshot: A Woman on the Bus"
We danced on silver sunsets that We only got a peek of From inside of a secret room That only we can speak of. But I think she’s forgotten now, As least that thought occurs From silver sunsets in my eyes I cannot find In hers
When you’re too young to know, But old enough to feel, The anger is too much, And emptiness, too real. When daddy’s angry voice Is ringing off the ceiling, ‘s No wonder that so many Of our boys give up Feeling
The world, for him, has slipped away. He sold it for some bits of string: It hasn’t hit him – not today – That he’s devoid of everything That gave his life some meaning, and Could build a house of more than sand; Instead, he chases his ideal And gives up all he has That’s … Continue reading "Slipped Away"
A vineyard’s barren yearly. That doesn’t mean it’s dead — Sometimes we must turn in to grow, But this can be misread By those who think that empty vines Are death just masquerading — Instead of knowing wine will come, And that it’s worth The waiting
Outlandish as the summer sea That found us at this time and place, We lived our bit of fantasy And ran our bit of race. For day on day and skin on skin, We breathed in time the message in: To ride the moments as they fly For just like summer days, They die
The moon is not a terrorist; in fact, She often visits both the poor and sick. Although she has a schedule that is packed, And often deals with clouds that can be thick, She’s regular. And knowing that’s the trick: The moon is true, not subject to caprice, And that should bring no fear, but … Continue reading "The Moon Is Not A Terrorist"
I stand amid the frozen rows, And think of long-lost friends; Where stones line up just like these trees And sorrow never ends I stand amid the winter gloom, A hush is on the clearing, I guess that I could join them all, But I’m not volunteering
Love the moment, feel the wind, Make believe you never sinned, Saying words you can’t rescind — Love the moment, feel the wind. Wear your glamor like a prize, Wrap it all in silk and lies, Interlaced with alibis — Wear your glamor like a prize. Once, you were a fair man’s daughter, Now you … Continue reading "Love the Moment, Feel the Wind"