there are moments I’d like to live again
like the day when I turned ten
and got a Daniel Boone racoon hat
that made me the envy of the neighborhood
or
the time I fell headlong in love
something I always dreamed of
or
when I made my first game winning goal
in a basketball game I stole
or
seeing my first son born
one early morn
and
the list goes on and on
from memories drawn
by an old man
that still can
recall
them all
-30-
by midday the fog burned away
exposing lush emerald fields of grass
among jagged hills
drawn with an artist’s skills
truth be known
it’s a secret valley
where an old man dwells
alone in peace
among the animals
like the first man
in the sacred garden
known as serenity
-30-
when you reach a CERTAIN age
people either think you’re a sage
or a doddering old fool
who’s not doing well
frankly sometimes
it’s hard to tell
-30-
the revelers watched in disbelief
as Dionysus walked away one day
the satyrs and the Maenads
had come to play
but the god of wine
didn’t have anything to say
while the grapes withered on the vine
Dionysus took his time
stripping away
ritual madness
festivity
and religious ecstasy
until there was nothing else to see
-30-
my beloved cat Tommy passed away today
we had 20 great years together
and now I don’t know what to say
if there’s a heaven it’s for animals
who are nature’s apostles
earth’s archangels
whose love for you is tangible
and real
goodbye Tommy
you’ve been a great buddy
-30-
a wise person cultivates their brain
like a lush victory garden
to maintain
some semblances
of being sane
-30-
as the day comes to a close in the swamp
streaks of orange, yellow and purple
streak by in the sky
that is rapidly
descending into night
alive with creatures
some are hunters
some are prey
most hide
during the day
but
the night life
in the swamp
reveals
animals ordeals
and victories
a tableau
of primitive
survival
a peepshow
into nature’s version
of the Hunger Games
blow-by-blow
-30-
what happens when someone can no longer hear?
does the music stop in a dead ear?
or do they keep dancing in their head?
notes swirling in harmony
keeping a melody
alive very slowly and broadly
at just the right pitch
a rhythm no one else can hear
it’s a personal premier
that will never disappear
-30-
what secret fear
follows you
in a nightmare
and every waking moment
like a faceless golem
waiting for the right time
to expose your weakness
to the whole world?
-30-
People would be dying in droves
on the streets and in ocean coves
if looks could kill
there’s
blue eyes with knives
brown eyes dark with menace
green eyes full of venom
thousand-yard stares
eyeballs burning like emergency flares
glances that strip souls
gazes that grind bones
eagle eyes that follow prey
dead eyes that never stray
you know people say
if looks could kill
this would be your last day
-30-
Journal
Thoughts, Stories, The Poem
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