As a songwriter, I sometimes have thoughts or ideas that wouldn't particularly make a good song. This is the outlet for that stuff...

Sunday, February 24, 2019

Meeting A Poet



He stands at the podium

Reading

His familiar words

He seems too small and

Frail

To carry such a heavy

Muse

Afterward

I stand in a line

Too shy to tell him that

For me

He was the one that opened the gate to

This vast

Secret garden

I open my book and watch as he

Etches his name on my

Truckload of

Admiration



Monday, December 17, 2018

Biography


Days as thin as pages

Nights erased in

Sleep

Much about those early years are

Now

Only highlights

Held by spine and cover

Captive

Like leaves on a

Summer tree

And just as destined for

Autumn

And winter's

Epilogue



Sunday, July 1, 2018

Haiku


That bold argument

Sounded much more convincing

While still in my head



Saturday, June 9, 2018

Remember


As time closes yet another

Curtain

As my orbit expands

As my innocent neighborhood

Grows

Into a small city

As demands crowd

Demands

In the fugitive hours

Where all is

Borrowed

The moments you filled

I own


Saturday, March 10, 2018

Skin


Thick or thin

Cover this fragile

Mechanism

Hold it's pins

In place

Hide the gory

Details

You are my atmosphere

Protecting my

World

From countless

Debris

Or alien

Scourge



Saturday, December 16, 2017

How Fast We Go


Into the day

Even when we sit and watch

How fast the morning burns

Away

And noon runs red lights

Leaving us

With afternoon

Like Dicken's ghosts

Impatient and demanding

'Til

Evening

Like a gracious host

Soothes our stirring

Anxious will

With promises

Illusory

For other days to feign

Fulfill




Sunday, July 9, 2017

Grace


Is stretched like bread dough

Morning rush

Too many tables

Apologies

Dot her conversation like apron

Stains

Old man baked into the corner

Booth

Wanted decaf

Wanted eggs

Over easy

Wanted sourdough

“I'm so sorry”

“Let me take that back”

“No, that's okay”

“I'll eat this”

She moves on in a dervish of

Spilling

Wiping

Checks

And balances

Corner booth man is gone

Another stiff

Oh well

She deserved it

Gathering his napkin

She allows a small

Tear

As the fifty dollar bill falls

From the fingers of

Grace