Mine eyes have seen death and strife
all my life
if you could see
what I see
daily
you’d see
positivity
despite the negativity
you’d see
I’m still happy
to a degree
my full story
an incomplete journey
through society
blinking at reality
-30-
They saw him from a distance walking down the middle of a post-apocalyptic Manhattan Street
wearing brightly colored rags
shuffling with a purpose
stirring up dust and the ashes of the long dead
with each step he called out to the inhabitants
that lingered within the ruins
and promised them eternal peace
if they would just follow him
and call him God
from the shadows a shot rang out
and the shooter screamed
“There is no God!”
-30-
Plymouth Rock was one big step for immigrants
But Native Americans saw the writing on the wall
Their cultures were being crushed despite being vigilant
And there wasn’t any way to avoid their fate for once and all
Then so-called progress spread from sea-to-sea
and the newcomers began to pollute the country
Modernization
Industrialization
Indoctrination
Civilization
Over population
Automation
Militarization
Violations
Fortifications
The result?
A divided nation
Cassandra only had 72 hours left to live unless she found the right room where a giant magic mirror majestically stood waiting to grant a wish.
There were thirty-six rooms in the massive Victorian mansion. Each one a portal into a different dimension. With time running out Cassandra grew more desperate every time she opened another door. Her slim dancer’s body flitted down the dusky hallways like a wraith, only stopping to probe another room.
She found herself in ancient Egypt in one room and in London, England circa 1886 in another. She barely got out of the room safely where Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D. was erupting and threatening to bury Pompeii’s residents.
When Cassandra went into a room where there was a saloon in 1868 Texas where a gunfight was taking place, she narrowly dodged the flying bullets bursting through bat-wing doors and back out into the hallway.
She didn’t have time to reflect why the mage cursed her. Each hour brought her closer to an unthinkable ending. An eternal hell.
Cassandra was a gypsy who was famous for forecasting futures with Tarot cards. Her many clients spread the word over the years that she was better than anyone alive at predicting people’s futures. She believed them. That boast didn’t set well with other fortune-tellers and especially with wizards and mages who prided themselves as being “all-knowing.” One dark night a Greek necromancer named Asclepius decided to teach Cassandra a lesson for her hubris and cursed her.
The curse was straightforward; she was a prisoner in a house with 36 rooms. She had 80 hours to find the magic mirror and save herself before being eternally lost in one of the rooms. Each time she entered a room the hours would fly by like a murder of crows. At that rate she’d never be able to go to all of the rooms before her time ran out. So, Cassandra had to be selective and let her instincts take over. Drawing from her Romani heritage of mysticism she stopped opening doors and just put her hand on them and felt the vibrations within. It only took minutes instead of hours to determine what was behind them.
With two hours to spare she found the right room. Her wish was granted, and the curse was lifted. Back in her own house Cassandra picked up her deck of Tarot cards, stared at them for a few moments, then threw them into a trash can. It was time for a new vocation.
-30-
dreams and aspirations
swirling down the drain
and bringing pain
the watcher looks on
in numb silence
looking for guidance
dejected and alone
when none appears
there’s tears
life’s challenges too harsh
he swirls down the drain
again and again…
-30-
he was a puzzle to all
there were so many pieces to his personality
that people were in awe
he played the guitar
and smashed mouth soccer
and was an international star
women longed to bask in his glory
his rugged good looks charmed them all
they loved everything about his story
so, when he disappeared one day
no one knew what to say
the rumor around the neighborhood
was that he ran away…
screaming into the night!
-30-
Take the last train to Crazy Town
And I’ll meet you at the station
You can be here by 4:20
‘Cause I’ve made your reservation
Because I’m the mayor of Crazy Town
Where there are no rules
Good times are happening
And there’s no schools
There’s only one train each month
going to my Crazy Town
it’s a getaway worth your time
And a great place to hang around
Time is wasting away
Don’t miss this opportunity
to laugh and play
In the Crazy Town community
-30-
There’s a time to be silent on your road ahead
to listen to your heartbeat
and the words that dance in your head
there also comes a time to speak out
to rage against the machine
and to stand up for truth
without any self-doubt
life comes at us in seismic events
both high and low
and without precedents
there’s no rights or wrongs
only the here and now
told in clever folksongs
-30-
while you slumber in a deep sleep
doors open
paths are revealed
as your subconscious
explores each new field
secret vaults in the corridors of your imagination
where your soul is concealed
open with prophetic dreams
that are unsealed
in the light of a new day
-30-
the rumors grew faster than centipedes on steroids spreading into living rooms across suburbia USA
they were often dark and sinister hinting at a terrible apocalypse coming any day
some of the rumors were really just scary stories about serial killers looking for prey
in their insulated neighborhoods disguised as IRS agents who just want to do a personal survey
another persistent rumor that slithered through suburbia was that a great transformation was underway
but to the chagrin of the rumor bearers – just what was coming – they couldn’t say
-30-
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