Tuesday, December 3, 2013

The road whispers go forward and fast, like light
there were no directions no hints of point or perspective
I followed
into the clouds that kept the sun quiet
the daylight rich and hollow 
skies laid out on my shoulders
its autumn
and I feel winters earnest rush
the season of loss, the silence
stares through both of us

Backroads, the quiet morning, before you wake
but I am gone
and the sun barely touches the earth
and the stone speaks little of histories, only names
backroads, the weight of heaven on the branches and limbs
but I am gone
your door does not recognize the ghost
nor offer any words of excuses or renewal
friendship and love; these words we throw like stones 
mean nothing in a vacuum
mean nothing in their absence
a ghost that sees itself with little purpose
in this realm
backroads, riding silent, alone,
I am happy and yet sad
that you have found your own.....

I am home,
haunted in this field is the feeling that left me
but I am open 
to feel
and the ghosts we love and ache for
are real
I am home,
walked to the lake to be closer to the trees
a ghost  brushed my shoulder
I remember Rusk
I remember sleeping in the comfort
of being whole
even while the apnea
left me oxygen starved and cold
I remember
the empty space that never filled
I spoke with God and its empty still
you were the home that kept me
you were the home that promised time
and I am left with a beautiful ghost
and a home that isn't mine....

I remember snow
last Christmas
but they've cleared the trees and sterilized the road
you rise out of the beautiful field
an eye sore
but you give more than you take
though there's nothing left in your wake
my son saw a bobcat with cubs the other day
even while all the trees and deeper forests were whisked away
In disgust I watch as you give more than you take
while I was only hoping that the back roads
the landscape might keep
another day....

Monday, May 6, 2013


I watched the clouds swirling
I watched the light in rich ambers and greys
She smiled
I heard the sound of guitar chords
And voices somber
I was not part of the group
An outsider
But I could feel the pangs of sadness
A rich atmosphere
As thick as the clouds
That parted ways
Watched the final embers of light fade
And the balloons
Blue and red rose weightless and beautiful
I saw your picture
You were an angel,
So much hope in eyes
So hopeless
The balloons rose into the clouds
The warm golden light
Touched everything
And I would almost hazard a guess
You were forgiven
I felt your presence
As the cool breeze gave way
To a golden sky
I watched the candles light
I watched the warmth spread
People hugged each other
They reflected across the lake
Your absence was felt
Even by those who never were lucky enough
To know you
I felt peace across the water
I felt silence like a whisper
And above me as the light dispersed
That quiet air lingered
I talked to my son
He felt it too
Said the words we all should say
Sadly watched that last balloon
Rise and fade away…..

Saturday, April 13, 2013


Flickering lights
In warm shadows
Fragrance of vanilla, cinnamon
And every night she comes
And we dance in shadows
Walls of flame they flicker
She in all her colors like night
Perfume whispers to senses quiet
We dance all night
In shadows like ghosts
Cryptic forms like souls
Without form
And every night
She comes and we dance in shadow
Wakes me in the AM
French vanilla, sticky sweet
And every morning
The light extinguished
She and I
In twisting forms like flames
Their dancing embers
To the night sky
Leaving me cold alone
In darkness
And every night she comes
And we dance
In shadows.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Poem 4-12-13- a poem a day first in the series


words like whispers, God awake,
the empty night
the forest quiet
all the creatures poised,
we would trade all security
all of our confidence
for just one noise
but the silence is unrelenting
as all the good ones lie asleep
and only words through
early morning slumber keep
quiet as if God
teaches me a song to sing
quiet in the aftermath
of weeks passing
and sleep has crossed my mind
but words thrown like stars
in an evening sky
shine and shooting by
quiet as if God’s awake
and all his creatures
wait for just one taste of divinity
a slice
in white, pale like the moon in evening
when all the good ones sleep
God in whispers
Speaks in riddles
And all his secrets

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Finding America II (My freedom trumps yours)

Okay, this is not going to be always about Sunday Morning, it's going to be more about seeing the small things among us everyday and describing them right or wrong with the perspective of America, past, present and future. Please bare with me one more time in relating a story I heard on the news show.

It was about an Egyptian comedian and talk show host, a previous heart surgeon that is creating quite a stir in his land. His satire has landed him in jail, they compared him to John Stewart and while the show is based off of John Stewart's show, the comedy and basic idea can be compared there is a difference. In America, you can say what is not popular with the government or the people and you don't go to jail. We have freedoms here that we don't seem to realize or appreciate. I have always said that today, freedom is an old vintage car that is in our grandfathers' garage-it was cool once, it's interesting but we don't really get it or drive it anymore.

Our soldiers get it, they fight for it, they watch their brothers and sisters die for it, they go to countries that don't have freedoms and see the hardship and tyranny firsthand-instead in America we fight against people that would wear a sign or shirt we don't agree with, we find so many ways that our freedoms are trampled on and yet I feel we don't have any perspective about what freedom is nor the lack of it. Unfortunately, we become the victim that we are portrayed as, we are like the reality shows that fight with another while they are in a great, free high rise and someone else just disrespected them, we need some perspective.

Freedom is something we have all taken for granted and the idea of freedom is something we have lost all perspective of. My freedom shouldn't trump others-If I don't like your opinion I don't have to like it but I shouldn't want you not to have the freedom to express it. These days, we have enough laws on the books but somewhere along the line the idea of needing to have a law to protect funerals from protests and personal attacks on the deceased was never something we ever thought we'd need. If we as people treated others with the respect and understanding we should as basic civilized people we wouldn't need the government to keep interceding on our behalf.

We need to realize the freedoms that are inherent in living in a free country, although there are points that are lacking in America as in any country we need to enjoy and embrace what we have. We shouldn't take for granted what we have, improvement is always necessary as we grow but we need to embrace the core values of America and realize John Stewart doesn't go to prison for satirizing the government-we should be happy to live with the freedoms and not take them for granted.

Looking for America I

This is a post dealing with America, not the America we hear about by our media and the government instead the real America that seems lost in translation. I watch Sunday Morning as often as I can get up early enough on a Sunday to watch. I enjoy the fact that they don't tell us what to think about the story, don't try to sway us politically or religiously about the issues and just simply tell a story about Americans, interesting people from around the world, pretty much what is happening around our world in small vignettes about people and places of interest.

This morning there was piece about the new World Trade Center and what struck me is the hope that is instilled in the America that I love. We face hardships and we rise to the occasion. Too much we are bombarded with how we are victims and are dependent on a government that knows what's best for us and we are helpless, I believe this is agenda driven. In real life-Americans face the hard times and we rebuild, we join together and raise money for our victims of natural tragedies, we reach out to our homeless, to other countries like Haiti and Indonesia that go through their natural disasters. I'm not saying we have it all under control, there is more suffering than there needs to be and there are more people isolated and rejected but that goes with an increased unraveling of a community based society which has taken on the media and government as its support system. We have seen over the years that the government doesn't do this as well as we do.

The concern the family and friends have for each other can not be replaced by a government that seems more intent on dividing us than supporting our needs. We can rebuild, we can rise again as America, the great nation I know we are capable of being but it's going to take a rebuilding of a community, a disconnect of the constant connection to our electronic devices and state of mind where we look to each other for support and stop letting the media and the government keep us divided and distracted form our core principles,

Saturday, March 2, 2013

Where does your passion come from and where does it go?

This post is about creativity-where does the initial spark begin? Did you have a specific artist or painting that inspired you to start painting? For me, I've been creative in some form or another for as long as I can remember and not being creative would be like not being myself. To me it's how you approach problems and how you see life.

I remember not being able to draw well at all-my brother at a very young age was able to draw dinosaurs so much better and I aspired to draw as well. So as I got older and nature became a major inspiration and a constant impetus for my creative process. As I got older I was always either photographing or painting, for years I would go for six months of doing each until the eye changed from photographic to painting oriented and back. During this time the writing was always a staple, whether it was short stories or poetry.

During certain periods in my life I have lost all contact with painting and creativity and it was isolated to just the writing which never stops its seems, I say that thankfully. I believe these points of valleys in the creative process were just learning points where I was gathering all the things I had learned in the previous creative sessions. So this answers the question of where does the passion go. We get lost in our lives and often as much as we'd like it to be, creativity can not be a priority as our family and duties in life pull too strong for us to maintain this secondary life of the creative.

We must remain in essence young, retaining a portion of our inner child to maintain the process that is creativity. I believe getting older often is a weight that crushes the inner child, between rejection, self doubt and the loss of time to stop and notice things the eyes of the creative can easily become jaded and the act of being creative turns into a pointless endeavor. The logical side of the adult is more aware and concerned about daily duties and staying busy-the creative must maintain the view of a child and protect the fact that it is not a option to be creative but an integral part of one's being.

Turn off the radio, TV, read about things that inspire you, collect things that are interesting and never stop trying to see things from the innocents and open eyes of a child. We may, as artists, be able to submerge our integral creative spirit beneath the logic and chaos of our lives but believe me there are consequences. The day you look at a sunset and realize it does nothing for you, or listen to an amazing bit of music and it is just sound-you know you've strayed too long. So be creative, realize it is almost important as the job you keep or the daily duties you perform.

Do you agree with my premise? How do you keep your creative spark alive and have you ever lost it for any amount of time? Comments welcome-thanks for reading.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

So Where Do We Stand....Definitely not United

So where do we stand in this economy, in this country, for religion, racism and just life in general? I believe we have developed more ways to communicate and with that ease of communication we have stopped communicating. I watch people in a local coffee shop and we are all sequestered to ourselves, whether it be we don't trust or we're waiting to be sold to or hit on-we protect ourselves adn we have lost our availability to communicate. I would say we've lost the need if it wasn't for the fact that when you get a conversation started with someone I think we all want to reach out and communicate, most of us either don't know how or are afraid to start something we are not interested or don't think we are interested in.

I think at the core of our lack of communication is the fact that we work very hard to keep our houses and our cars, all the things we think we need. Not to say if you want an expensive toy you shouldn't if you can afford it, it's just that we have to work hard to support what we have bought or borrowed on credit. I also think there is so much stress that none of us are able to react to, but it's always there hanging over us like the economy that has been failing for how many years now? We are always on the edge of a disaster which I will get to the culprits of this chicken little syndrome in a moment but for this point, I think we are all underneath a great weight that tends to just sit there and we are expected to keep our heads up and keep doing what we have always been doing when this great disaster is just a job loss away and the impending doom of failing health and a crumbling economy is always just sitting there staring at us. What do we want to do outside of our work-we tend to want to escape to our homes, our families, we can barely communicate with the people we know with the stress we carry so never mind getting social with the community.

I drove through the suburbs yesterday and there is no one living in these empty houses or that's the way it seems. There are cars in the driveway, that is the only proof that anyone lives in these houses. Maybe there are cliques that the people stay with, only their immediate family and friends so there is no time or need to reach out to other people or friends. In the city, I noticed there are more people out and around, perhaps because they are younger and less jaded or just have less on their plate. I remember when my exwife and I bought our first home and instead of us running around enjoying the outdoor stuff, there was always something to do around the house. This brings me back the fact that we are so busy in our lives and detached from people which I feel we really crave to be spoken to or communicated with. I believe there are many of us that feel they are outcast from this society and you can see on many occasions they strike against the very society they feel has made them an outcast, which brings me to the next hypocrisy that is rampant and brings me closer to one of the culprits in the failing of our society and community.

We talk so much about bullying, everyone is against bullying and we all need to do something about bullying but the very same people that are crying about bullying are the ones that bully more than anyone. The political correctness that is rampant stems from what I feel is a guilt in our society, we aren't getting nicer, we are getting more nasty and vicious to eachother. Another thing about bullying, it is not a new thing by any means and what used to be a motivation to improve ourselves or protect ourselves has turned into a means to be victimized. I'm not saying that bullies are helpful in our development it is just something that has been around since the very beginning of our society and it will never end, it's just the way we don't teach our children to deal with this bullying, I would think anyone that has gone to school has been bullied in one way or another and we reacted in various ways. Another aspect of the bullying-thr that someone might lose. e bullying that used to occur seems nothing like the vicious and dangerous bullying that occurs these days. I believe that we are suppressing our boys and girls, all aggression is deemed unnatural when aggression is completely natural, it should be used in the right direction, in sports where we dare let our children compete with the danger that someone might have to actually lose.

We have decided that there is one sex, boys and girls are the same which they are not, instead of celebrating the wonderful differences that are evident between boys and girls and between each of us, there is a definition of who or what we need to be and how we need to act and unfortunately we are suppressing the natural urges and emotions that we all feel and trying desperately to adapt everyone into a weak and pliable child that doesn't cause their teachers or families any problems. We have drugs for everything, we have to anesthesize our kids, calm them down, they have their folders signed for doing stupid things that kids do, they are chastised for acting out in anyway and we have to call it a disease or some disorder that we can treat. Granted, there are real disorders and ailments that need treating, I just think that we have put everyone that steps out of a calm uncomplicated place must be medicated and that's where I think we are wrong. Of course in the past we would be disciplined by our parents and often maybe more than we needed to but we knew there were consequences for our actions and we were not the ones in control, again there are parents that have destroyed that whole healthy concept of discipline- a spanking is not a beating but some parents have taken discipline to a sick and twisted place. So, the government and teachers step into our parenting and says we can't look wrong at our children and meanwhile our children realize there are no adults in charge of us and there are no consequences for our actions-we'll just call CPS.

So how have we come this far? I believe that we have lost our basic values for life and the idea of selflessness has given way to narcism, raising our children with the idea that everything is about them. Whatever happened to the old quote-think not of what your country can do for you, think what can you do for your country. We have been lead in a bad direction by the fact that common sense in raising children has been replaced by sociology and psychologists telling us how we should do and freeing us from any blame or guilt by generous portions of rationalization. Our complacency in our society has allowed the stage to be set by the media which pander to us, pull our strings to be afraid of certain aspects, they act like they are our parents and we are too stupid to know better and in actuality we have become the child lead by the media disregarding common sense and listening only for the processes that directly affects us. The next entity that has moved in to be the parenting role is the government who sees fit to explain what drink we should and shouldn't drink and how much of anything we should have. Our chains are pulled when they need us to react to something, their fingers point to the other side always playing the shell game with us while the money is already gone. And once they do what they knew they were going to do all along there is no word of any crisis until the next crisis they have to threaten us all with certain doom if we dare expect the to be responsible in the use of our money.

So where in all of this do we stand? I feel we should be Americans before we are races, sexes and our own specific causes. I think we need to avoid being victims so the lawyers have no one to pander to. No one says that the money they steal from the insurance company for the so called deserving victim with an amount that the person would never see in their lifetime, that great sum of money, most of it goes in the lawyers pocket and the rest of it we all feel as costs go up from everything from medical to car insurance-we all pay for it even though the one that hit the lottery by getting hurt feels they are entitled to however much money the lawyer can get them. I believe we as a nation can not stand divided, we need to come together as a nation, not a race, sexual orientation, democrat, republican-they have us right where they want us. The child that does not have the capability of fighting against a rampant government and a divisive media that work together to extort what they need from us, using fear, guilt, racism or whatever other tool they need to keep us divided and most of all complacent.

We need to be a nation again, we need to stop fighting among us and start becoming aware of the similarities we have among us and start running the government instead of letting them run us. We need to stop listening to the media that uses propaganda to separate us and control our actions. We are a nation of hard working individuals that all love the idea of  succeeding in whatever success that deems appropriate for each individual. We need to stop using the word deserve, stop being victims and start earning back our country. The government has done so many bad things to our families and our childrens' children, they have stolen futures and the money we have entrusted them with has been stolen, it is our time to get our country and our government back to by the people and for the people.
Its time to stand united because divide we will definitely fall......We need to come together as Americans with common interests and needs and stop letting outside entities divide us for their own gain. Forgive me for a long. long blog but I want to live in America not a divided mess that this country is becoming.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

I was just going through old stuff, getting the spring cleaning itch I guess and I discovered an old box of treasured keepsakes. The contents of the box was a sales associate tag from a first job, letters from close friends and matches from various bars. I don't like the fact that at one point this collection meant so much to me but now its nothing more than garbage only escaping the trash because it had been hidden under debris for so long. Here is my dilemma, when in life do collections of things lose their worth? For me, I believe its the dreams and aspirations that mean much to the younger person but as we get older other more important tangible aspects of our lives push the urge to collect the trivial things in our lives to small boxes we lose or tuck away.

I want to collect things again, things about now, about the places I go and the people and things I see. I think as children we are so excited about life and possibilities and experiences we tend to collect remnants, keeping a piece of our memories that we can go to again and relive. I used to photograph everything, I have photo albums filled with pix of my life from when I was ten to probably my early thirties. We shoot pictures, collect things, we are excited about our lives and the possibilities and somewhere along the line we lose that desire to maintain keepsakes. Time and people pass through so quickly and we don't have a chance to stop and capture moments never mind trinkets.

I think my turning point was the end of my marriage. I look at a garage almost like a beach where all the belongings of your life wash ashore. All of the objects in your life seem familiar but they tend to blend in with the dust and the memory becomes so obscure you lose the need to maintain your collection. Another aspect of your belongings is the move from one life to another, you tend to see your
collectables as more weight that you have to carry and less like the fond memory. Boxes of stuff flood into the garage, whatever you can carry gets gathered into your vehicle and by the time you get to the next destination all you know is the objects of memory are just clutter in your life.

So now I am in the process of cleaning the slate, discarding remnants of my life that don't lend themselves to my future. I want to start collecting small objects, I have seen artists that tack things up in their studio and my studio is filled with notes and unfinished works. I don't collect tactile stuff, stuff to inspire me to write or paint and I think I am missing a great aspect of the artistic experience. I know when the child becomes the adult, we lose much of what was important, much of what made us children we stop wasting time and interest for. Although I realize that every part in our lives, we gain and lose stuff, I feel the artist and the poet must keep the child that sees things as only a child can see alive somewhere. Something breaks in us, some piece of us that finds joy in insignificant things but I do believe this is where the artist lives and those pieces of youth must be preserved.

I have taken the artist way class and I know much of what the course is about is getting back to ourselves, getting to know ourselves again, I am eager to get back to the eye of an artist that is excited about sunsets and nature, the collector, the child that was passionate about life. I plan on starting a box today, I can hardly wait to see what piece of my life is the first to find its way into my box of treasures-I plan on keeping it small and simple so it never becomes the weight I can't carry but important and of substance that it doesn't get lost in the debris and thrown away during another one of my spring cleaning jags.

So what would you keep in a box of memories? What do you collect? What objects would fill your box and why? Would love if even just the followers might comment and explain their boxes that they would create.

Thursday, January 3, 2013

For the Funeral

Order the black cars
The host lies in state
Order the flowers
He’s awake

The vantage point
From the ceiling
The smell of sadness like a flavor
The empty shadowed room
No voices could fill anything but the sound
In the empty spaces in the walls
Morning falls
Like a weight on shoulders broken and spent
Wondering where hours went
The waiting-the glass suspended on the edge of the table
Clumsy fingers of children
Hushed parental cues
The vantage point around the fireplace
Watching the dressing room
Finished getting ready
The widow puts her makeup on
Black is the color of daylight
Shines through the window
Like a sickness
I don’t understand the words you speak
The priest
Ensures peace
And silently
Walks in the room
The director slinks out like a serpent
A sad reckless play-where no one will remark
On the substance or how well the lines were delivered
The host is sainted
No one asks the question
No one would dare

Order the room
The cash bleeding out of the home
Read the will
Get your fill of the darkness
As it leaves
With the mourners
And left alone, we are fragile
In the kitchen
We are broken dirty dishes
In the sink
A final drink before sleeping
We are awake
We are staring at the ceiling
And the host lies in the ground
No sounds
Only an empty shell
Even now winding down
The slow earth, the careful shovel
The indifferent ground

Staring at the ceiling the widow cries
And a hand from the ceiling a bleeding sky
Touches the face
With the spring breeze
It’s only epitaph
Remember me………

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

Awake: First of 2013


A vulture in circles in the sky
Across the hollow landscape
Cars pass by
The grey sky staring at us
From across the room
The time to decide
It’s coming soon

In the midst of another year
No sadness
No tears
Washed away like storms before
All pasts alive
No more

A blackbird in a dying field
The sun, a whisper in the sky
But why do I feel hope in a gray landscape
And why do I choose joy
At the end of a season
Maybe it’s the wisdom of age
Or the courage and excitement
To turn another page

Awake in this landscape
Blackbirds passing me by
All I have is worthless wealth
But a treasure of precious time…….

The Inspiration

Twisting in the frame
The resemblance of the face
The same
The portrait
No voice, no name
Only the paint that stains
Sad and beautiful gray

Out through the front door
Hands reaching out across a hemisphere
Wide eyes, seeking
A point in the cueless sky
No perspective no path to memorize
Only the gray scape
And the ideas we rationalize
Often pointless
They stream through us
A voice
I feel like a puppet
I dance only with a voice
From some unseen source
Atoms pulling and pushing
Radiation in the garden
As the sunlight moves across a barren sky
I don’t even need to ask you why
I’ve given up all my secrets
Now all I have is time
For you to decipher the riddle
The common thread that speaks in words
Voices no one has ever heard
Keeps us dangling like puppets
Across the sky
I stopped asking why
All I have is precious time
For you to answer the riddle
That hangs dangling above our eyes…….


Love that amazing element
That no chart could contain
It grows in me and moves me
I am a river under the ice
I am a river seeking the oceans peaceful tide

I don’t know these words
You speak and I answer with black etchings on a screen
I won’t go back
I just trust you to keep me making some sort of sense
When I can’t comprehend or memorize
Anything I ‘ve said

The organic feeling of love
Like leaves in a dying garden
I’m clinging to the branch
Found my place high in the tree
And only now realize
The distance between me
And the garden
I will one day lie and be
Nothing but this rotting leaf
That gives up all
So beautifully

I have words like leaves
They stream wildly
Like colors in fall
I can’t imagine taming
Or deciphering them all
They just stream through my mind
And I can’t even imagine
I can’t open my mouth to say
Any words
Of any kind of leverage
They don’t come out that way
Stumble upon reason
Stumble upon a sentence, a rhyme
You speak
And I listen
I don’t need to make sense
It’s the distance between each word
And the reason that dangles
I try to question the flowing stream
It goes around me
Flowing fast and violently
Keeps me from catching up
It only runs through ruins of all
Our giant plans
We’ve made
You speak
And I listen
It doesn’t need to make sense
And when you leave my mouth
And my hands will freeze
I will stand in a field in the middle of a field
In the  rain, begging please
As all the blackbirds make their shadows on the ruin
Of me
And I will give up all that I was to you
So beautifully……

The Muse

 So explain to me, where do these images and words come from
And explain to me where they go
Like water out of the sky
The form
The solid, the gas
Out across this mindscape
Thoughts and ideas furious
Like the white blood cell attacks the disease
This foreign body ejected
Streaming across
Often without reason
But continuous the flow
Until there’s nowhere else for it to go
Locked in metal boxes
Have I been a bad steward of all these ideas
Has time been a stumbling block
Or age
With wisdoms absent
Seeking the child that would place the puzzles
Where they belong
Was I right or wrong
No one answers
 A dark room where music plays in the background
The answer to all of our thoughts
Dangles in the sky
Where the light breaks the edge of darkness
We stare blind
Into space
Seeking all those tiny stars
That put us in our place
How small we are
How infinitesimal our tiny spaces seem
Waking out of this coma
This grand play
That never knows its cue
Only that I listen to you and you speak
Through me
A voice, that a child could only decipher
Empties the thoughts of oceans
In a grand rain barrel that would explain
How we all feel the same
How we all stare out to sea
How we all look up to the sky
Searching for you, for me……