truly dear


yes my dear there is nothing to say
all the toys broken the children have run
we took the carrot and broke the stick
it’s ok the flowers didn’t come
the offer gets us thru another day
honk yer horn if you see Jesus

you’re kidding i say
i see him every day
see those baggy pants and raggedy shoes?
by the hundreds, by the thousands
they came
and they follow him still

what’s your trouble old lady old man
there were no good old days
there’s only tomorrow and tomorrow
nobody stays forever – ask
the little boy dead in his mother’s arms
when tomorrow is

off i am to pillow my head now
and pray it goes to sleep
could you sing me a lullaby?

hush little momma don’t you cry
when you wake we’ll bake a cake
Danny boy’s comin’ home
with the morning sun


One Moment of Bliss


i heard the days numbered then
the years already now
at least not the hours

i heard “you’ve got mail”
two and one was scolding
the other informing

these golden days of billowing
daughter’s colorful cloths
on my old fashioned solar

these few days remaining
tho few are the moments
precious are they
living art

O Kathleen i know i must
we all must go leave
and none will know
the day or hour of our own

Michael will meet you at the door
mother and father will laugh and smile
Tom is playing a harp now?
does “Heavens to Purgatroid”
mean anyhow?

follow me Finder he knows the way
to hell and back and’s here to say,
“It’s all good
or She might say,
“We all go home,
or nobody does.”

American Rotten Apple Pie


what’s his name knew
give ’em a 9/11
and they’ll bust their butts in pride-
full #1
what is the Class above
spending like a drunken sailor?
does it matter anymore?
somewhere a religion castrates priests
somewhere a mother irons the breasts of her girls
elsewhere a million plus are added to the starve-to-deathers
what United State is without a military installment? none.
how many gov. employees does it take to screw a nation?
how did white collars get so dirty?
how did blue collars get so hungry?
how many masters does it take to create a slave world?

when are you coming home, son?
i don’t know dad
but we’ll have a good time then, dad,
we’ll have a good time then

Cocoon to Shroud


billions starve
billionaires wannabe trillionaires
Wall Street replaces Ft. Knox
50 US cities break heat record
growing the economy is King

shoulders fold around themselves
vision narrows
cocoon begins to chill
still ears hear the humming machines
no butterfly will come of this
soon to be shroud

we can’t go home this time Kathleen
the daises have all passed away
nor can we meet
on the bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond —
as has been written by the ancient ones
“During times of feast by the rich
and famine by the poor
personal sacrifice is requested.”


No Time For Dillydally Pickens


going down to Berzerkaland
to find ourselves our Trollip
we found instead
a dead little lad
and a father

SheWithNoName had buried him
among the turnips and peas
he had no blood
he’d found no green
and a mother
slashed and raped

hightailing it back Noman’sland
gathering fire and water
we took a stand
a lightening bolt here
a flooding there
goodbye, Berzerkaland

welcome home, dear Lovelight
it’s all good
some days the rains come down
to wash our spiders out

out comes Love Sun
to dry up all the rain
so our cute little spiders
will up the spout again

good thing
we’ve learned
to ride
a geyser


speaking the unspoken


from animal brain to brain contain ing
the ability to override primal urge to procreate
birth rights became restrained
by cultures/religions and games

words won’t do it
words were the beginning
yellow words led to strangling

if you build it he/she will come
un-clung to old miseries
walking wounded all are we
on our way home

oh Mudville!
oh joy!

i gorfot!


elm tree we’re meeting under,
was it a stream or a river,
in apple blossom time
or snowy mountain tops,
this life or next?

if it’s jitterbug will you remember
to lift your arm high enough
not to conk my brow?

one could say
we stepped on many toes
before we met ergo
we step on noone now,
ours or others.

Jack shaved his beard
cut his long straggle of hair
only heaven knows why
we do not care
we all let go sometime…

Micah pontificates:
has 53 who need his attention
as if she hadn’t observed
fully 25 never awakened
with ears and eyes
to see nor hear

we can’t play life
so we play games
until life happens
in both worlds
was it an accident or mistake?
or merely an accidental mistake?
no blame

now i am the old lady


sitting alone in my old rockin’ chair
ya think i’m neglected? i don’t
time with my loves have only
two measurements:
time they are here, time they return.
holding no expectations
here and returns
make for great jubilation

there’s rhyme and reason
rockin’ alone
thru the ashes one finds
flip sides to past consternation
forgiving others becomes as easy
as forgiving self
seeing self as friend is to
reclaim our very own birth right

golden years become golden
in full acceptance of
all life is a circle
bury me please
in an old pine box
don’t want no
ashes to ashes
want fertilizer

A Tribute To Truthiness


once we have seen there’s no exit
hate is a violent word
loving to hate is the same as
hating to love
don’t mess with Mr. in-between

of course we have addictive compulsions
that’s one way Huey
to survive the mad hatter head

compulsive compassion
being the order of the day
so long delayed
by he/she who would rule the world
still limited to the ‘known world’
foolishly some even would rule
outer space

“Stand on you’re own two feet!”



our walking wounded numbers grow stronger
bigger, one by one
two if by sea
so unused to coming over and play
it was a long and weary way
just lookin’ for a home
where family and community recognize
the humanity of all
who abide there…
now is a good time
for a community on Planet Earth
to be a Good Neighbor Sam…José, et al

the gig is up
nobody’s rewriting history anymore
(both sides accusing other of same)
we have a live martyr in the limelight now
an honorable Mr. Wiki Leaks
may he not lead us into human morality?
that “Brotherhood of Man”?
so many profess
so few
the essence

we had it once in full measure Louie
the House Undivided
and No One has torn us more asunder than
our very own politicians
…not all… TYGG !!

some are listening to our children
what they say
and yes there is a better way
to get from here to there
what parent has never desired
their children be more intelligent, make more heart-felt choices
than we?
it is our shame it shall be our glory
we overcome