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FORGOTTEN DREAMS

A pile of stones beside a field
of an abandoned , washed out farm
now bramble and brier its only yield.
A near deer snorts out its alarm.

A barn in collapse across the way
the forgotten victim of neglect
that once was full of life and hay
now bats are all it can collect.

Old rusted worn out rakes and plows
good now for naught but scrap
once created pastures for fat cows
discarded like a vague mishap.

The morning After a November Storm

The snow is here now
everything is so much brighter
but the cold is fierce

Raising the Bar

My children are drowning
in plastic
and I can't seem
to stem the tide
while they're hypnotised
by bullshit
I'm dying a little
inside

I'm networking
instead of
parenting

I'm raising automatons

My children are brainwashed
with apathy
made to look 'pretty'
told what to do
what to say
and I'm ashamed
a little bit more
everyday

I'm thinking
when I should be
listening

NOVEMBER ’57 – MARCH ’80

 
NOVEMBER ’57 – MARCH ’80
 
 

She has a cancer in her brain,

And it’s driving her insane
Slowly, day by day, by day by day, by day by day... she says…
 

She tells me that she’s dying:

She has this cancer in her mind
Which her doctors cannot find…
 
She has no eyes, no tears to weep:
Her cancers run too deep-
She’s so tired, she cannot sleep…
 

She told me she was dying:

The Cracked Urn

.
waxing rhapsodic
gilded actor of the quill
writing beautiful lies
just for the thrill

a normal day

ground began to shake
gale force wind picked up

trees snapped
roofs came off
hail fell size of baseballs

birds flew south early
street lights wouldn't work
a beautiful darkness came down
gaping holes opened in the ground
out of which fires belched flame
orange glow was first light that night

there was a flood
river that flows through town was ten feet out of its banks
bedroom mattress floated into the living room

gas mains blew
windows broke

I had a hangnail, but I felt fine

Two in the Rain

two joined, separated
a brother now one
and his brother's friend
a friend that loved
filled that emptiness
that hearth and home
could not mend
one fateful day
their ways crossed
to wayward wend

what tears run streaks
on your redded cheeks
why the furtive pulse
in your eyes it shows
so plain a plan
to bring him back
though a means to do
so sorely lack

EVENING At The LAKE

Come, lets sit here on the sand
of this impoundment's shore.
The gulls and geese can be our band,
who could ask for any more ?

We'll set our chairs on water's edge
and in cool water dip our feet,
watch boats troll for catfish past the ledge
in, this the last of summer's heat.

As we recline on eastern side
the evening air so slowly cools;
sun's reflection from the water, wide
covers surface with rhinestone jewels.

une petite rennaisance

A fog settles upon these shoulders
the cape that sweeps across the plains
the biting wind sings its wailing dirge
whose fingers pluck and scrape and snap

Once upon a breath so dreary
the banal landscape stripped away
a peril hunched in fitful slumber
morning promise not guaranteed

When golden shafts part the curtains
and birdsong fills the early air
a once dormant heart rises
thankful for a good cup of tea

Witch

Witch

I walked across the broken glass to be with you
My feet were torn to pieces
You looked at me and let out a laugh
Knowing you'd led me down the garden path

I ran across the burning embers to hold you
My skin was burnt and charred
You looked at me and kicked me hard
Knowing my heart would be forever scarred

A witch without a heart
A whore without feeling
A bitch to lead me on
After all those things for you I had done

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