Wednesday, July 18, 2018

Magazine Ads

Does anyone really read magazine ads?
Sometimes stuck down in a corner,
Sometimes taking up a page – or two – or three.
You’ve seen them. What’s the deal?
Pretty pictures on a page of
Life as it should be.
Back page filled with such fine print
You need a microscope to see.
And what is it for? This miracle drug.
What does it really do?
‘Ask your doctor’ it boldly declares.
We’ll take good care of you.
I reek of hypertension just to see
Such blatant spam,
Lose my cool demeanor and go
Chasing after cause.
That they, whoever they are, would
Defile my leisure reading
With such frightful insignificance
Is reason to give pause.

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Tuesday, July 17, 2018

A Glass Half Full

Are you an eternal optimist?
Do you always see the glass half full?
Do you constantly look for that
Silver lining? Live with a hope that
Springs eternal?
Or misguided fool.
Either way you miss the mark.
Setting yourself up for disappointment
At every little twist and turn.
Nothing wrong with wanting better.
Nothing evil achieving goals,
Courting hope until we see that
All will be as it should be.
And you knew there was a but,
Keeping a base in reality,
Towing a line of logical measure
Helps to define the finite line,
Keeps us on course,
Uncovering treasure.

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Monday, July 16, 2018

Brace Yourself

Uncle Billy’s been hauled off to jail.
Sheriff said he hadn’t paid support
For almost half a year.
Brace yourself. There’s more.
Cousin Tommy turned seven today,
Precious little wart.
They caught him getting drunk off beer.
Brace yourself. There’s more.
Sister Sally’s getting married.
Such a grand surprise.
They said she’s in the family way
Like her sister was before.
She’s marrying that biker dude,
Everybody’s prize.
He’s going to take her far away.
Brace yourself. There’s more.
Poppa fell and broke his leg.
Can’t work for seven weeks.
We could likely starve by then
Since we’re already poor.
Momma’s sick and took to bed
So we are on our own.
Cupboard’s bare and we don’t care.
Brace yourself….

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Sunday, July 15, 2018

Carpets of Hardwood

I love the feel of carpet soft and
Plush between my toes,
Cushioning and cradling my bare feet
In its tender arms.
Smoother than a feline’s fur to
Soothe my weary bones.
More welcome than the distant shores
Of South Seas island charms.
But you seem to want to give me
Hardwood carpets, nothing more.
Plagued by nail heads, warped
Uneven, tripping shards of oak.
Why do I deserve such mental anguish?
Silent torture? This
Harsh hardscrabble treatment
Is a cruel uneven joke.
You need to lighten up your act,
Need to take a break.
This vile pathetic treatment
Would cause any heart to ache.

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Saturday, July 14, 2018

Forward to the Rear

Sometimes, no matter how hard the effort,
In spite of every best intention,
I only seem to be moving backward
Into a state of futility.
Just can’t seem to catch a break,
Smitten with the curse of Job
Whose patience here was challenged
More than humans need to be.
Progress is a fragile flower
Sore in need of tender care.
Fertilized with vigilance,
Nourished by a single tear.
Dogged by persistence,
Determined to endure.
I’ll carry you on weary legs
Forward to the rear.

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Friday, July 13, 2018


Patchwork is for making quilts
Or for plugging holes in inner tubes.
Pieces are for picking up when
Shattered lives break all apart.
One carries on,
Finds the glue,
Works the mending, healing plight of
Grieving sailors lost at sea, of
Helpless, hopeless, hurting hearts.
Wise men make a vain attempt to
Put the puzzle back together,
Tiny flakes so miniscule that
They escape the naked eye.
Running out of patience as the
Shadows stretch to lengths unknown,
Making nervous witness of
Unintended passers-by.
All the pieces.
So little time.
Much too soon to
Say goodbye.

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Thursday, July 12, 2018

Sounding Board, Sounding Bored

Please, don’t turn your back on me at
A time like this when I need you most.
Don’t turn into a lump of coal, or yawning
Flesh with your eyes half closed.
I need you for validity, or vilification
Should the need arise.
Keep me in check, eyes pointed level
So that I may see clearly when truth is exposed.
Don’t let me whine. I
Hate people who whine and moan and lament
Over miniscule matters.
If I obsess, say enough is enough.
Once said is said. The rest is just prattle.
Keep my mind sharp like a finely honed razor.
Keep my thoughts flowing like streams to the sea.
Blessings abound for the seeker of knowledge.
All are welcome
And passage is free.

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Wednesday, July 11, 2018

Aggravate My Tush

You really know how to scorch my shorts,
Rag my rotors, fray my flaps.
Such muddle-headed mutterings
Should bring a child to shame.
Your beastly, bonehead brandishings
Are biting at my heels until I
Feel the strongest urge for
Bashing bones, to slash and maim.
Were I not born to know restraint
You may have fallen hard already,
Punished with a caning stick
For crimes as yet unknown.
But you keep harping, grinding,
Grating, pummeling my patience with
A finely tuned persistence that
Can dig right to the bone.
Oh, please Lord, let my ears fall deaf.
Allow a blessed hush.
This mindless addle prattle
Only aggravates my tush.

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Tuesday, July 10, 2018

Running With the Bulls

Now, let’s talk about something really nuts.
Let’s beat our heads against the wall
To find the logic, make some sense of
Running with Pamplona’s bulls.
How does such insane tradition
Find its’ feet? Much less a home.
How did this get started? What sad fiendish fluke
Has done us in?
Humans are of poor design to
Challenge nature’s noble beast,
A snorting, snarling mass of muscle,
Power-packed on cloven hoof.
But no one ever said that every person
Is of genius born,
And ego plus stupidity is
Just enough to do us ill.
Oh, Dear God, please have pity.
Show mercy on these fools,
These addle-minded idiots
Running with the bulls.

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Monday, July 09, 2018

Please, Put That Cigarette Out

Aren’t the rings so lovely as
They float above your head?
Cuddling the rafters, filling
Every little nook.
Didn’t the aroma of the shop
With all its’ blends fill you head
With silent notions as it set
Its fatal hook?
Pity. There, I said it.
I feel pity for your soul.
That one of your intelligence
Could be so far misled
By the sirens of Virginia who
Seek no earthly good,
Who manipulate and procreate
With anyone they bed.
And I mean not to be unkind,
Do not want to scream or shout.
I’ll ask you once, then once again,
Please, put that cigarette out.

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Sunday, July 08, 2018

Fussy Fussy

Holy crap! Must I endure this
Never-ending fussy, whiney caterwauling?
Bleating sheep-calls,
Snorting gruffs of Billy goats, grating slowly.
Pouty pouty feline folly,
Picking every nit or gnat
Til every nerve of my endurance
Has been stepped on at least once.
Can’t you just accept a little
Imperfection now and then?
Don’t you know mistakes are human?
Can’t you learn to start again?
Must you be so fussy fussy?
Give a little.
Lighten up.
All too soon it will be over.
Details only interrupt.

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Saturday, July 07, 2018

Blast the Politicians

Every time I settle in to catch a
Glimpse of the evening news or
Crack the spine of a magazine or
Open up the black on white,
I get the sinking feeling and
It’s much to my chagrin that
All good has gone out of life
And logic is on holiday.
Tell me, who’s to blame for this sad state?
Who is responsible?
Why can’t things be like they were?
The way that we remember from
Our golden days of innocence.
Things keep changing,
Common sense as foreign as an
Alien from Jupiter.
Who’s to blame?
We could blast the politicians for
Not reflecting moralistic views,
Worry where they’re leading us until
We lose our hair.
But when it comes to nuts and blots
We must accept the blame.
We’re the ones who let it happen.
We’re the ones who put them there.

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Friday, July 06, 2018


It is theory eons old of
Souls reborn, riding on the everlasting
Wings of hope,
An act of faith so magnified
As to bring hope to huddled masses,
Destitute and starving in the massive heat
Of desert sun, or on
Frozen prongs of winter’s ice
Til all are gone.
Imagine for a moment that
The reaper’s scythe has little dread,
That hearts are light and eyes see clearly
Destinations up ahead.
Fear evaporates to dust.
Anxiety is vaporized by rays of sunlight
Trickling, sparkling on dancing feet.
Waiting now and welcoming,
Never fearing
Life reborn.

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Thursday, July 05, 2018

Buzz Me In, Stupid

How long do you intend to keep me
Waiting in this dire position?
Open and exposed to every
Elementary element.
Blatant brazen passers-by.
The dirty looks, the snidely sneers,
The loud loquacious laughing louts
Out to do no earthly good.
Any moment it might rain.
Darkness filtering the trees,
The buildings, every sidewalk crevice,
Blocking out the evening sun.
You’re the one who holds my fate.
Only you can make me whole.
Only you can be my savior from
This wicked, wretched state.
Please, be kind and heed my call.
Do not let your ear go deaf.
Lifetimes do not last forever.
Now’s the time to buzz me in.

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Wednesday, July 04, 2018


I don’t spend a lot of time in
Front of mirrors so I seldom
Notice any subtle changes
Written upon cheek or brow.
Time digs deep upon its canvas
Painting furrows line to line.
Signs of wisdom, silent witness
Tended with a painless plough.
You won’t find me bent with caring
Wrought with anguish,
Quashed with woe,
Fearing for the reaper’s harvest,
Knowing that the end must come.
Every ending has a new beginning
In the next dimension.
Every step is one step closer to
Rekindling nature’s womb.

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Tuesday, July 03, 2018

Stay Home

Sanctuary. Cradle of contentment
As the day winds down.
Craving of the working stiff
From 8 AM til the whistle blows.
Longing desperately to
Cross her threshold
And to melt into her arms
Where I’ll be safely settled.,
Coddled in her restful womb.
Not a thought of leaving her
Outside of grave necessity.
Feet propped up, the dishes done,
TV rolling out its’ senseless drivel
Drowning, droning until
Eyelids gently fall to peaceful slumber.
Now the day forgot,
If only for a little while.
No more obligations this day.
No more rat race cluttering the mind.
Content to let the world go by.
Content to just stay home.

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Monday, July 02, 2018

Blow Your Nose

Here, take my hankie and
Go do your business.
No one is watching so
Don’t feel ashamed.
It’s not the first time you’ve
Tear-stained the linens so
Reign in the waterworks til
It be tamed.
I don’t mean to sound hardened
Or cynical,
Beastly unkind to your heart-felt emotions.
It’s just a dose of reality talking,
Soothing the soul with its
Dark healing potions.
Tomorrow you’ll wake to the bright
Sun of morning,
Fresh from your slumber
As the dew on the rose.
For now simply struggle,
Suffering silence. Lost but not alone.
Go…. Blow your nose.

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Sunday, July 01, 2018

Latent Heterosexuality

Something about the opposite sex
Captures my fancy. I’m not sure why.
Perhaps nothing more than the curve of a limb,
The curl of an eyelash,
A bowed upper lip.
Leg man, breast man, ass man, who knows?
It’s all in a package,
All made for capturing notice and
Interest in fools like me.
Cravings of eye-candy not meant to be.
Eyes flashing wantonly,
Lips pouting feverishly,
Turn of an ankle, a brief glimpse of thigh.
Hair tossed in flippancy, hinting of more to see,
Come-hither hinting that never asks why.
I plead voyeuristic,
A challenge of malehood
To stay my distance and only observe.
But keeping desires in check is not easy.
Constant vigilance must be preserved.

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Saturday, June 30, 2018

Don’t Tweak My Nose

I’ve had my fill of your baneful excuses,
Your painful running off at the mouth,
The ceaseless profusion of uncensored gall,
The unending stream of vocal abuses.
This is the end,
No further extension.
The cord has run out on your flittering kite.
Billy-clubbed poses and
Bullied pretensions
Carry you only so far in this fight.
You have to leave now. Don’t try to argue.
Don’t be deceived into thinking you’ll stay.
Options are out, so head for the pavement,
And don’t tweak my nose as you’re walking away.

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Friday, June 29, 2018

Winsome Ecstasy

Oh, you creature of God’s great favor,
How is it you have chosen me to
Feast at your table, walk in your shadow,
Leap to your bidding, sleep by you side?
Of all the great fortune that could have befallen
This most humble servant, I could not ask more
Than the blessing of you, the essence of you,
A walk through the meadows where angels reside
Bestowing their message, their healing faith
That is only the breath of the One who endures.
Manna has fallen as sweet as the honeycomb
Filling my breast with the scent of its’ rose,
Keeping its’ promise to feed my soul, to
Lift up my spirit to levels unknown.
You are my garden, lovingly tended,
An island of passion where happiness grows.

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Thursday, June 28, 2018

Zones Forbidden

There are places we're not meant to go,
Walls that we're not meant to scale,
Battles fought with foe so mighty,
No point,
No chance we may prevail.

Still there are those who dare to try,
Who face unknown and test their fear.
Often beaten, torn and shattered,
Battered into mournful tears.

There lies in our human spirit,
Deep inside, most often hidden,
Staunch defiance, daring do,
To travel into zones forbidden.

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Wednesday, June 27, 2018

Zero Hour

Check again.  Is all in order?
Have you everything?
Check out time and you're not ready.
Typical to say the least.
Piddle, piddle, dawdle, diddle,
Never in a rush until
Zero hour comes and you
Become a raving beast,
Ranting, rushing willy-nilly,
Hither-tither to and fro.
Time ticks shorter every second
Watching your impatience grow.
Planning would have been a plus.
Perhaps you wouldn't be so sour
If you had concentrated, honing in
On this, the zero hour.

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Tuesday, June 26, 2018

X-Ray of the Soul

Broken bones can be detected,
Then set in place to heal.
Physicians never have to guess
With modern day machines.
Take a picture. Look inside.
X-ray will reveal
The battered, tattered, broken matter
That was previously unseen.
Sad to say this wonder,
This precious miracle,
Is not the grand solution to all ill.
If only we could somehow take
An x-ray of the soul,
Very few could stand
To pay the bill.

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Monday, June 25, 2018

"X" Marks the Spot

On a multicolored treasure map created and
Designed by youth,
Experience draws lines and markers,
Scaling facts,
Pointing truth.
Goals begin to focus as
Objectives become clear.
Fact spreads like a virus
As calm belabors fear.
Hoping to achieve,
Glad to receive the gifts we got.
Searching, ever searching,
For the 'x' that marks the spot.

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Sunday, June 24, 2018

Wash Day

Mom's old wringer washer was an ominous contraption,
Back porch dweller, silent sentinel.
But wash day saw it spring to life
With reckless wild abandon,
A fire-breathing dragon sent from hell.

Water drawn from nearby well
To feed her empty belly,
Carried pail by pail 'til she was full.
Grinding agitation as she
Mauled her fabric diet,
Everything from silk to scratchy wool.

Mother's little helpers would
Complain and run away,
Much too busy for such mundane tasks.
Totally exasperated, trudging on ahead,
She'd grit her teeth and don her mother's mask.

Washing, wringing, rinsing, ringing,
Ringing once again,
Seemed a never-ending carousel.
Difficult but necessary,
Mom did not complain.
She tamed the weekly dragon sent from hell.

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Saturday, June 23, 2018

Walking Through the Wood

Master rabbit foraging,
Where is your home address?
Do you believe I mean no harm?
Forgive me to confess that
I am only passing through your
Neighborhood upon this day,
An interested observer
Here to watch you as you play.

Walking through the wood
In search of secrets, natures guise.
Pleasuring my mind with beauty
Filtered through these eyes,
Sheltered in your forest womb,
A modern Robin Hood,
Seeking peace and solitude
Walking through the wood.

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Friday, June 22, 2018

Victory Is Easy - But Someone Has To Lose

Winning can be such a welcome bouquet.
Roses and lilacs should smell half as sweet.
Victory rides on the wings of the tides to leave
Sparkling pearls on the shore at our feet.
Counted so rare, the favor we savor
When triumph uplifts over summit and peak.
Hardly a thought of the depths of dilemma
Suffered by those trodden down in defeat.

Winning is easy. It bears not the burden
Of inward reflection, inspection or thought.
A wild and untethered complete celebration
Is what you expect from the battle you fought.
But out in the wings there awaits a new challenge.
Take care which opponent you knowingly choose,
For only the winner can claim victory's laurels.
Someone has to lose.

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Thursday, June 21, 2018

Voices from The Past

Oft life offers difficulties,
Plagues of indecisiveness,
Barrel-chested thugs who pound
On reason with an iron fist.
Cannibals of logic,
Clear confusion from mass offerings,
Twisted, thwarted, thrashed and trashed
'Til every point is soundly missed.

What would FDR have done?
Would doctor King just preach and pray?
Would Confucius have the answer?
What would Gandhi say?
Would your grandpa share your burden?
Could old friend's advice apply?
Can philosophers of old help lift
The darkness from your eyes?

There's a time for us to listen,
Keeping pace, but not too fast.
A cloak of benefit abides within
These voices from the past.

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Wednesday, June 20, 2018


Future calls to visionaries
With a voice so subtle that
It's only heard in whispers
Born on gently curving winds.

Sighted knowledge bears ideas
Filling oceans of the mind,
Giving nurture to the fruitful
Garden that we tend.

Scoffed and mocked and laughed about
For laying bare the plots and schemes.
Still unscathed with brow well-set
In seeking out their wildest dreams.

Always there, just out of reach,
An overflowing treasure chest.
Visionaries reach beyond,
Clutching diamonds to their breast.

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Tuesday, June 19, 2018

Useless Conversation

Almost a whisper the ear strains to hear,
Caught in a circle with no place to go.
Merely a greeting, a "how do you do?"
Rhetorical. Really not wanting to know.

Yesterday's detail reviewed once again.
Polite chit-chat, etchings mundane.
Simple retelling of soap opera lives
Can drive thinking people to think they're insane.

Wrapped up in newspaper, out with the trash...
Like a fish three days after it's caught.
Time better spent immersed in invention,
The simple art of common thought.

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