Uvalde (Villanelle)

 

nineteen innocent children died

as a young girl dials nine-one-one

good guys with guns waited outside

 

they scrambled for a place to hide

 nowhere to go, nowhere to run

nineteen innocent children died

 

with two brave teachers by their side

expecting help but there was none

good guys with guns waited outside

 

many young lives have been denied

from bullets fired from a gun

nineteen innocent children died

 

before the blood had even dried

someone’s daughter or someone’s son

good guys with guns waited outside

 

authorities already lied

but soon their lies would come undone

nineteen innocent children died

good guys with guns waited outside

Early Warning System

 

I’ve learned to trust the Blue Jay’s call

from overhead or forest deep

they warn of danger great or small

 

a warning that goes out to all

protecting chickens that I keep

I’ve learned to trust the Blue Jay’s call

 

a time or two that I recall

woken from my morning sleep

they warn of danger great or small

 

in summer, winter, spring or fall

their information’s what I reap

I’ve learned to trust the Blue Jay’s call

 

appear from nowhere like a squall

in trees above the compost heap

they warn of danger great or small

 

and standing by an old stone wall

I hear that same familiar peep

I’ve learned to trust the Blue Jay’s call

they warn of danger great or small

Waiting For A Bed (Villanelle)

we all are waiting for a bed

both day and night we bide our time

a peaceful place to rest our head

 

some wait in anger, some with dread

some so comfortably sublime 

we all are waiting for a bed

 

we think about the lives we’ve lead

our brains are working overtime

a peaceful place to rest our head

 

no one can say what lies ahead

within this present paradigm

we all are waiting for a bed

 

we ponder all the things we’ve said

the mountains that we’ve had to climb

a peaceful place to rest our head

 

we think of better days instead

when we were young and in our prime

we all are waiting for a bed

a peaceful place to rest our head 

November Rain (Villianelle)

I wake up to the beat of rain

the metal roof echoes the sound

November can be so mundane

 

my happiness I can’t contain

it isn’t snow upon the ground

I wake up to the beat of rain

 

continuing the same refrain

a steady pattern can be found

November can be so mundane

 

the price we pay for summer’s gain

dead leaves are lying all around

I wake up to the beat of rain

 

I’m in control of my domain

although sometimes I feel housebound 

November can be so mundane

 

How much water can we sustain?

as we expect another round

I wake up to the beat of rain

November can be so mundane 

The Summer Path (Villanelle)

 

I walk the summer path alone

my grandfather has long since passed

while everything around has grown

 

with all those things that he had shown

creating memories that last

I walk the summer path alone

 

he taught me how to skip a stone

upon a pond as smooth as glass

while everything around has grown

 

I miss that time, it was our own

he answered questions that I’d ask

I walk the summer path alone

 

an empty nest, the birds have flown

into a world that is so vast

while everything around has grown

 

he talked of people he had known

and how the years go by so fast

I walk the summer path alone

while everything around has grown

Solitary Confinement (Villanelle)

a darkened room, he sat alone

with memories he can’t ignore

with thoughts that only he had known

 

with photos that he’d never shown

well hid away inside a drawer

a darkened room, he sat alone

 

one time he tried to make atone

in words he’d never spoke before

with thoughts that only he had known

 

the things he did he can’t condone

another casualty of war

a darkened room, he sat alone

 

he tried to end it on his own

a failed attempt and nothing more

with thoughts that only he had known

 

his final years were spent at home

inside four walls, behind a door

a darkened room, he sat alone

with thoughts that only he had known 

With Shaking Hands (Villanelle)

 

She holds her child with shaking hands

as motherhood becomes her role

life has a way of changing plans

 

while no one fully understands

she struggles not to lose control

She holds her child with shaking hands

 

with hurried vows and wedding bands

but marriage never was her goal

life has a way of changing plans

 

so as the family expands

and she resolves to pay the toll

She holds her child with shaking hands

 

but with the increase in demands

she struggles not to lose her soul

She holds her child with shaking hands

life has a way of changing plans

(Insert Name Here) Villanelle

 

He made a number of mistakes

though nobody was keeping score

a single one is all it takes

 

with drugs he helped relieve the aches

increasing need for more and more

He made a number of mistakes

 

He wasn’t given any breaks

and did some things he’d soon deplore

a single one is all it takes

 

The price was high, so were the stakes

“things have to change”, is what he swore

He made a number of mistakes

 

fighting off sweats and chills and shakes

relapsed a time or two before

a single one is all it takes

 

despite the progress that he makes

he’s found dead on the bathroom floor

He made a number of mistakes

a single one is all it takes

Rob (Villanelle)

 

He lived a life of broken dreams

but found peace within the pieces

Life isn’t always what it seems

 

while sometimes going to extremes

endorphin highs with quick releases

He lived a life of broken dreams

 

with whispers louder than the screams

every day the pain decreases

Life isn’t always what it seems

 

while trying different coping schemes

all the stress those tears unleashes

He lived a life of broken dreams

 

by choosing sides and picking teams

comradery increases

Life isn’t always what it seems

 

through darkest clouds and sunshine beams

I hope he found what peace is

He lived a life of broken dreams

Life isn’t always what it seems

Photographers of Long Ago (Villanelle)

through shades of gray from light to dark
photographers of long ago
in black and white they left their mark

a slice of time, they stopped the clock
and left a record so we’d know
through shades of gray from light to dark

as fire burns a city block
a captured image through the glow
in black and white they left their mark

the dedication of a park
they document life as we grow
through shades of gray from light to dark

a winter scene so cold and stark
of horses plowing through the snow
in black and white they left their mark

a hint of an artistic spark
perhaps a point of view to show
through shades of gray from light to dark
in black and white they left their mark

Eat A Sandwich (Villanelle)

eat a sandwich at Chick fil a
tell yourself God’s on your side
bring up children the Christian way

life-long member of the NRA
parade your guns around with pride
eat a sandwich at Chick fil a

show support this special day
by all God’s rules we must abide
bring up children the Christian way

it’s black or white, no shades of gray
your son's secret, he just can’t hide
eat a sandwich at Chick fil a

said he’s going to the range today
took his gun out for a ride
bring up children the Christian way

authorities would only say
appears to be a suicide
eat a sandwich at Chick fil a
bring up children the Christian way

Your Undivided Attention (Villanelle)

has the outcome been decided
are disagreements so profound
in a country so divided    

once the rhetoric’s subsided
why can't we find some common ground
has the outcome been decided

everything seems so one-sided
when will a compromise be found
in a country so divided

are the people just misguided
the ship of hope has run aground
has the outcome been decided

all the tools have been provided
to try and turn this thing around
in a country so divided

left and right wings have collided
our nation struggles to rebound
has the outcome been decided
in a country so divided

All Thumbs

I’m ready for whatever comes
and I will take it all in stride
thankful for opposable thumbs

trapped in the house my mind succumbs
I turn the knob and go outside
I’m ready for whatever comes

while picking apples, pears or plums
I hold a basket by my side
thankful for opposable thumbs

I reach to pick up tiny crumbs
from off the floor where they reside
I’m ready for whatever comes

strumming guitar or playing drums
or when my shoes become untied
thankful for opposable thumbs

to grab a boob or pinch some bums
if opportunities provide
I’m ready for whatever comes
thankful for opposable thumbs

Phantom Storm - (Villanelle)

a storm is coming up the coast
some other place they’d rather be
the mariners fear this one most

they pour some rum and drink a toast
as tortured souls try to break free
a storm is coming up the coast

a skeleton ship that’s manned by ghosts
made up of sailors lost at sea
the mariners fear this one most

abandoned hope and left their posts
from sinking ships they could not flee
a storm is coming up the coast

in pirate tales they often boast
but now reduced to beg and plea
the mariners fear this one most

they sold their souls to Satan’s host
to sail into eternity
a storm is coming up the coast
the mariners fear this one most

Politicians - (Villanelle)

the politicians make their plans
while lawyers all review their cases
and corporate money changes hands

make policies for foreign lands
as media promotes their faces
the politicians make their plans

in words nobody understands
speeches made from well known places
and corporate money changes hands

while noisy crowds and marching bands
assemble in our public spaces
the politicians make their plans

and as the voter base expands
pollsters all predict the races
and corporate money changes hands

keep kissing babies, greeting fans
phony handshakes, false embraces
the politicians make their plans
and corporate money changes hands

Infrastructure - (Villanelle)

we notice not the slow decay
of rotted wood or rusted steel
as manmade objects fade away

diminished slowly day by day
while over time the cracks reveal
we notice not the slow decay

the corners bend, the edges fray
these damages we can’t conceal
as manmade objects fade away

a coat of paint, a short delay
but soon that paint begins to peel
we notice not the slow decay

great monuments were built to stay
on solid ground with grand ideal
as manmade objects fade away

there’s nothing more that we can say
just act as if it’s no big deal
we notice not the slow decay
as manmade objects fade away

In This Vessel - (Villanelle)

in this vessel of blood and bone
thoughts just echo through my head
I silently, reside alone

throughout the years while I have grown
I’ve thought about the life I’ve led
in this vessel of blood and bone

I’ve thought about the seeds I’ve sown
and thought about the words I’ve said
I silently, reside alone

emotionally, I’ve turned to stone
while feeling like my soul is dead
in this vessel of blood and bone

and all the people I have known
who shared a meal, a house, a bed
I silently, reside alone

with all the chances I have blown
and all the choices made instead
in this vessel of blood and bone
I silently, reside alone

The Wait of Water - (Villanelle)

a shift in the tectonic plate
early morning siren screeches
across the ocean people wait

awakened to this twist of fate
tsunami warning, clear the beaches
a shift in the tectonic plate

minute by minute news update
listen to the experts' speeches
across the ocean people wait

all trying to anticipate
how far this devastation reaches
a shift in the tectonic plate

don’t live in a complacent state
lessons Mother Nature teaches
across the ocean people wait

as the local pastor preaches
although his prayers come too late
a shift in the tectonic plate
across the ocean people wait

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