Saturday, January 29, 2011

Chasing Unicorns

better leave me alone
I’ve had a rough day
I’ve been out looking
for things nobody else can see
I’ve been chasing unicorns
I’ve been searching for leprechauns
looking for pixies , elves and gnomes
pursuing  fairies, seeking an imp
ok, maybe I don’t believe in these things
but she does and I believe in her

You Are

You’re the dog that ate my homework 
You’re the fish that stole my bait
You’re the reason I’m so tired 
You’re the girl my parents hate

You’re the pebble in my sneaker 
You’re the stain that’s in my bed
You’re the handprint on my window
You’re the song stuck in my head

You’re the monster in my closet 
You’re the gum stuck in my hair 
You’re the snack I crave at midnight
You’re the knock when no one’s there

You’re the spider in my shower 
You’re the cork in my Chablis
You’re the nail stuck in my tire
You’re the reason I am me

Same Old Words

I have to use the same old words
to say things you’ve already heard
I can only string them together
hoping this time comes out better
and the message can get through
although the words say nothing new
I’ll send my feelings off to you
and hope you feel the same way too
well here goes my latest try:
in with love you fell I

Time Piece

when time got started
way back when
the sky kept track
for ancient men
it was either
dark or light
work all day
sleep all night

in grandpa’s day
time took its time
on antique clocks
you had to wind
a majestic timepiece
kept the rhythm
or a pocket watch
that he kept with him

then electric devices
came on the scene
minutes spit out
by silent machine
with no tick-tock
the seconds left
this soundless clock

now the time
is everyplace
dashboards, cell phones
in your face
contraptions without
moving parts
constantly glowing
in the dark

to show that life
is racing by
can’t avoid it
if you try
and you can only
sit in haste
and contemplate
the time you waste

Sunday, January 23, 2011

My New Girlfriend

my new girlfriend is the best one yet
downloaded off the internet
oh, she’s as pretty as can be
she’s been altered digitally
I can choose the clothes she’ll wear
or change the color of her hair
transform the color of her eyes
modify her shape and size
I can pick the words she’ll use
in any language that I choose
I don’t think she could be much cuter
unless I upgrade my computer
for now I found a quick solution
I view her in high resolution
the only time she’s not around
is when my server is shut down
and if she ever does me wrong
just one click and she’ll be gone

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Blue Moon

didn’t really mean anything
it was just the tequila
that’s what we said
our last real kiss
so long ago
it was your birthday,
it was a blue moon
almost twenty years later
another blue moon
on your birthday again
and I’m writing about that kiss
that didn’t really mean anything


Poor little inchworm
with all his inchworm traits
crawled onto the yard stick
but he was only seven-eighths
“it’s because of your posture”
his mother did say,
“there’s a hump in your back
that just won’t go away”
“I forgot about my hump,”
he said with a laugh
then he stretched himself out
to an inch and a half

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Walking in Dead Men’s Shoes (circa 1920)

lumber barons,
captains of industry
making money
off the land and the workers
clearing the hillsides
killing the rivers
all to feed the paper mills,
so that there will be paper
for the writers to write stories
for the newspapers to print
about how the lumber barons
and captains of industry
are fighting the unions
and clearing the hillsides
and killing the rivers

While the captains of industry are busy
luring young men off the farms
to work in the factories
where they join the unions
and they build farm machinery
to sell to the farmers
who are selling the farms
because their sons have all left
to work in the factories

While the farmers sell their land
to the industry workers
who now have money
to buy lumber and paper
to build their houses
and read the stories
about how the lumber barons
and captains of industry
are clearing the hillsides
killing the rivers
fighting the unions
and luring young men off the farms

And the lumber barons
and the captains of industry
built twenty room mansions
with wrap-around porches
and carriage sheds with stables and quarters
But when the trees and farms were all gone
the factories shut down
the workers moved away
and the twenty room mansions
were sold or inherited
by people who couldn’t afford
to properly maintain them
and they fell into disrepair
and the hillsides were clear
the rivers were dead
the unions had left
the farms were all gone
and everyone ended up
walking in dead men’s shoes

The Awakening

She woke me with a whisper, not a shout
reminding me what life was all about
of all those things that I have lived without
since I was young and not so full of doubt

She woke me with a whisper, not a scream
made me realize I’m not too old to dream
Perhaps life is not so hollow as it seems
and we can help each other fill the gaps between

She woke me with a whisper, not a yell
I was awakened to the magic of her spell
Eventually, in love with her I fell
though I kept it to myself and did not tell

She woke me with a whisper, not a kiss
just another of those things I’ll have to miss
and find another way to reach my bliss
She may not be ready for a love like this

New World Zombies

the living dead
by virus spread
not through bites
megabits instead

transmitted through
your gaming station

broadcast through
those big flat screens
in your genes

killing zombies
such a rush
slowly turning
brains to mush

subliminal message
in the game
to your mind
they lay their claim

and someday when
the time is right
the couch potatoes
will unite

Sunday, January 16, 2011

Nursing Home - (Rondeau)

why am I here? am I insane?
is something wrong inside my brain,
do I suffer from some disease?
why won’t somebody tell me, please,
is someone willing to explain?

there is no reason to complain
the words would only be in vain
I miss the birds, I miss the breeze
why am I here?

my house no longer I maintain
so in this place I shall remain
family members I must appease
to give them all a sense of ease
I miss the sun. I miss the rain
why am I here?


Money can’t buy happiness
but poverty sure is sad
the time that I had money
was the best I ever had
all the times without it
were nowhere near as nice
yes, I had some money once
and I hope to have some twice


met today
met halfway
been a while
same sweet smile
warm hug
nice and snug
just right
not too tight
not too long
not too strong
looked great
lost some weight
hair dyed darker
bundled in a parker
still has doubt
working things out
still intends
to remain friends
will keep in touch
don’t say too much
talk again
not sure when
met today
met halfway

Energy Crisis

An ambulance in front of the house next door
and the County Coroner’s car.
As they haul the body out
in a clean, white sheet,
I heard someone say
the old lady froze to death.
I didn’t even know
anyone lived in the house next door.

Trophy Wife

she’s a trophy wife and that is all 
waiting for her beckoned call
a dead fish hanging on the wall 
a statue with a bowling ball

paraded around just for her look 
like a fancy cover for an empty book 
a side of beef hanging from a hook 
a polished stone you can’t overlook 

doesn’t have a point of view 
just says the words he tells her to 
won’t bring up things that are taboo 
keep smiling is all she has to do

living in a gilded cage 
until her face begins to age
thinking that she’s got it made 
until her beauty starts to fade 

with all the jewelry and the clothes 
the perfect smile so no one knows 
the empty feeling in her life 
of being someone’s trophy wife 

Placebo Effect

I didn’t get the real thing
what I had was fake
but my effects were genuine
and that was no mistake
the feelings that I had were real
the words I said were true
the information that was false
was what I got from you
you treated me with placebo
who knew that it would work?
I swallowed the lines you fed me
now I’m feeling like a jerk
all the things you told me
I believed them at the time
just words made out of sugar pills
but they made me feel so fine
now everything you tell me
I just assume is fake
no matter how sincere it sounds
it’s a bitter pill to take


I walk along,
through wooded darkness
seeking only inspiration
not permission
from the creatures
that dwell in the night forest.
They owe me nothing
nor do they even know who I am
but they know that I’m here
and we share the night.
For a short moment we are one
all encompassed within the mist laden cloud,
heavy with the smell of rotting leaves,
which rises above the ground
just high enough to conceal
the movements of even the tallest man
as well as the demons that pursue him.

Dance for Me

It would all be clear to me
I’d understand your history
unravel all your mystery
if only you would dance for me

Part of my philosophy
is never mess with destiny
let things happen naturally
and hope that you will dance for me

Locked inside my misery
only you can hold the key
maybe I could be set free
if only you would dance for me

Some things I may never see
places I may never be
when they write my biography
I hope they say you danced for me

Empty Skies

towers crashing to the ground
alarms have all been sounded
to a fiery, smoking mound
authorities responded
missing souls that won’t be found
newsmen were astounded
countless lives turned upside down
the planes have all been grounded
we were taken by surprise
staring at the unfilled space
gazing into vacant eyes
trying to find a hiding place
listening to the distant cries
waiting for the dust to settle
looking at the empty skies
through the heaps of twisted metal
who has vanished, who survives
who emerges from the void
how long until the help arrives
to the place that’s been destroyed
what we see is so surreal
devastation, death, demise
how on earth will we ever heal
praying to the empty skies

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Shades of Grey

She paints a picture just for me
with colorful intensity
in hues that never fade away
and paints them all in shades of grey

She talks to me in black and white
and things are either wrong or right
She always knows just what to say
and says it all in shades of grey

I sometimes wonder what is real
and often don’t know how I feel
but when I start to drift away
she pulls me back with shades of grey

She never wears the color red
but opts for white or black instead
and when she feels she wants to play
she dresses up in shades of grey

She simply lives life day to day
doesn’t have a debt to pay
she won’t let love get in her way
just lives her life in shades of grey

I look at her, to my surprise
find beauty in her emerald eyes
She looks at me from far away
I fear she just sees shades of grey

24 Hour Superstore

aisles and aisles of nothing
stacked eight feet high
and going on for miles
a line of goods coming in the back door
stretching all the way back to China
she walks down every row
looking at lawn chairs and baby clothes,
digital cameras and Cheerios,
socket wrenches and frozen yogurt,
riding lawnmowers and strapless bras,
picture frames and tampons,
pot roasts and sleeping bags,
but she never finds what she needs
she never finds love
she can’t buy confidence
she won’t discover hope
she can’t acquire  happiness
so, like all the other people
who are walking the aisles
at this time of night,
she shops

Chasing Ghosts

just woke up one morning 
summer turned to early fall 
found you’d left without a warning 
you were gone and that was all 

and it hit me from the blue
there was nothing I could say 
there were things I never know 
things that made you go away

you were willing to take chances 
there was nothing I could do
you had questions without answers 
and all those things I never knew

I felt the changing seasons 
tried to call you on the phone
tried to understand your reasons
only wish that I had known

heard you moved out to the west 
you were living on the coast 
I went out to try to find you 
ended up just chasing ghosts

I had no way of knowing
you had ghosts there of your own 
and those feeling just kept growing 
only wish that I had known

I guess you had your reasons 
and those reasons mattered most
to go after your own demons 
ended up just chasing ghosts

Starving For Attention - LYRICS

You’re getting ready to visit him
so you stop eating so you’ll look thin
I can’t believe the shape you’re in
but we’ve been through this before

You don’t eat dairy, you don’t eat meat
I’ve never seen you eat anything sweet
but still you feel you must compete
with the girls in the magazine ads

(Chorus  #1)
And you’re starving for attention
and you’re hungry for respect
and you often dream
of better self-esteem
but you haven’t found it yet

You tell me that I don’t understand
and never will because I’m a man
but let me tell you from where I stand
you sure look good to me

You know its not you and its not me
just blame it all on society
but really who are you going to see?
And tell me does he understand

(Chorus #2)
that you’re starving for attention
and you’re hungry for respect
and you’re so afraid
you won’t make the grade
so you take what you can get

Does he even notice the things you do?
Does he know what you’re going through?
While he’s been sleeping with someone new
and you’re starving for attention


shadows move across the lawn
been creeping since the crack of dawn
slowly they have been encroaching
to let me know that noon’s approaching
still I sit and watch them change
watch their patterns rearrange
until I can no longer wait
no more can I procrastinate
I’ve reached the point of desperation
I’ll use that as my motivation
to get up off my lazy ass
and go outside to mow the grass

Friday, January 14, 2011

Beneath The Ground - (Villanelle)

buried deep beneath the ground 
longing for the light of day
hoping that we’ll soon be found

strain to hear the slightest sound
knowing help is on the way
buried deep beneath the ground 

within this chamber we are bound 
frightened eyes that look away
hoping that we’ll soon be found

weakened timbers, so unsound
many years of slow decay
buried deep beneath the ground 

dead-end tunnels all around 
cast together we must stay
hoping that we’ll soon be found

silent darkness so profound
isolated we should pray
buried deep beneath the ground 
hoping that we’ll soon be found

Lava and Quicksand

Whatever happened 
to the lava fields 
and quicksand quagmires
that we had to avoid as kids
while playing in the woods behind our house? 
And what became of the ninjas 
who lived in those woods? 
Who’s fighting them now? 
Are the land mines still there?
Who’s making bow and arrows 
from the wild cherry saplings? 
Our swords are hidden in the tree house 
but if you go there be wary of swamp gas, 
and watch out for the zombies who 
inhabit the hidden cave behind the waterfall.
Who’s protecting the village from the dragons
or have all our childhood enemies 
been replaced by video games?

Thursday, January 13, 2011

The Hole Theory

there’s a hole in my pocket, all my money is gone 
there’s a hole in the fence and the dog has moved on
there’s a hole in the screen and there are flies out today
there’s a hole in the roof and there’s rain on the way
there’s a hole in the sky and the ozone is leaving
there’s a hole in the ocean, the dolphins are grieving 
there’s a hole in the boat and we’re all sinking fast 
there’s a hole in the tank and we’re losing the gas 
there’s a hole in the ground and the miners are trapped 
there’s a hole in the shuttle and it ain’t coming back 
there’s a hole in my conscience, I’m losing my mind
there’s a hole in the hourglass, we’ve run out of time 
there’s a hole in my theory, I guess I can’t win 
there’s a hole in the universe, we’re getting sucked in


twisted thoughts rage through my head 
mind’s still living, body’s dead
bones are aching to the core
marrow feels like iron ore
legs lay heavy on the bed 
weakened muscles turned to lead 
breathing shallow, lungs are hollow 
I just drool but can not swallow 
loved ones stare into my eyes 
trying to tell if I’m alive
hoping they respect my plans 
my fate’s in someone else’s hands 
no way to express the pain 
morphine dripping in my vein 
in this vessel turned to stone 
silently, I die alone

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Mutual Understanding

I never notice her emerald eyes
that sparkle like the sun on the sea
I never notice how she laughs like a child
and she never notices me

I never hang on her every word
when she’s got something she wants to say
I never notice when she enters the room
or count the seconds when she’s away

I never notice her beautiful voice 
or notice if a note is off key
I never notice the songs that she sings
and she never notices me

I never notice the smell of her hair
when she goes walking by
I never notice when she talks on the phone
or hangs up with a tear in her eye

I never notice the way that she walks
when she’s got somewhere she has to be
I never notice her beautiful smile
and she never notices me

Bending Spoons

I often use my mind control 
to slowly make a pencil roll 
and when I really concentrate 
I can break a dinner plate 
sometimes I spend my afternoons 
just sitting here bending spoons 
or sometimes I will use my mind 
to make a ball of string unwind
but I have no power over you 
can’t control the things you do 
if I could I think you might 
be staying here with me tonight

On The Bus

Though not my fault
I take full blame
while sound asleep
I called your name

What in my dreams
had been concealed
now all at once
has been revealed

An unconscious tongue
betrayed my trust
as I nodded off
while on the bus

Now all on board
must know it’s true
when I’m asleep
I dream of you

Innocent Soul

innocent soul 
blameless being 
just months old 
what are you seeing?
what do you hear? 
what can you do? 
all of their fear
will rest upon you 
all of their worry 
all of their strife 
will become your story 
will become your life 
all of their sorrow 
all of their guilt 
will be the tomorrow 
on which your life is built
forgive imperfection 
forget the mistakes
it’s time for reflection 
whatever it takes 
life rearranges 
put on the brakes
contemplate changes
consider the stakes 
no time to argue 
no time to contest
sometimes it’s hard 
to do what is best

Babble On

hidden deep in the forest
past damp, dark green ferns 
a seat poses as a moss covered log
I sit 
far enough away from people, 
traffic or sounds of civilization 
to soothe my nerves 
and allow me to quietly reflect
with only the babble of the brook 
as a peaceful background noise. 
That is until the brook started to babble on 
about what I was doing sitting there. 
And didn’t I have things I should be doing?
Where were you last night? 
Who was the girl? 
Why aren’t you at work? 
Have you been drinking?
Where are your shoes?