If... Then...

If the chicken came first,
Then where did the egg come from?
If the egg was first,
How did it get laid?
If life gives you roses,
Enjoy the profusion.
If life gives you lemons,
Make lemonade.

If freedom is paid for
By loss of a life,
Then whose freedom was it
You sought to attain?
If reason is lost,
Then freedom means little
When nothing but
Bittersweet memories remain.

If Jesus was man,
Then are we immortal?
If sin is a curse, then
Why is there such blight?
If questions abound unspoken, unanswered,
Then our quest lies deep
In the heart of the night.

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The Tribute

It seems so unfair 
That we should pay tribute
To those who from all but

Our memories are gone.

The stars that glow bright

Are not all in the heavens,

All through our midst

They are scattered and strewn.

We as a race get to

Choose our own heroes,

Canonize saints

Long after they've passed.

Tributes and monuments

Grace our cathedrals and

Squares end to end,

The first to the last.

There are heroes among us,

Saints by our sides.

Slaves to compassion abound.

So, here's to the living

Who give of themselves

Everywhere love can be found.

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What Do You Want?

What do you want out of life?
Do you want fortune or undying fame?
Do you view life as a pretending game?
Tell me,
What do you want out of life?

Do you know why you are here?
Don't you think it's a bit queer?
Can you insist that you truly exist?

Do you know why you are here?

Such philosophical mush
Must put your mind in a rush.
If you've an answer, please,
Don't fear to flaunt it.
Tell us all.
Just what do you want?

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The Other Shoe

We sat befuddled and bemused
At news too curious to ignore,
Wondering what great misfortune
Dropped its' shadow at our door.

It seems there's always something
Brewing, stewing, simmering.
It comes in pairs or sometimes threes,
At times full-circling.

So, here we sit, our minds agog,
Backed firm against the wall,
Braced and ready, waiting for
The other shoe to fall.

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Teacher Teacher

Who taught the teacher who
Taught the teacher who
Taught all those treasures to you?
Who gave them knowledge and
Foresight to realize
You must know everything
There is to know?
What makes the ages evolve
In their wisdom and
Keep adding more as the
Eons pass by?
Who fills the oceans with
Waters of learning,
Understanding the
Ebb and the flow.

Questions need answering.
Curious minds
Deserve to be fed
With the figures and facts.
Starving minds falter
When teachers don't teach them,
Leaving them prey
To the reapers attack.

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Peanuts...

Peanuts, peaches, pulp and pine.
Up at sun up... Bed by nine.
Preaching Jesus... Cursing wine...
Always hoping for a sign
From up above to offer hope...
Ever trying hard to cope and
Justify a life so fine as
Peanuts, peaches, pulp and pine.

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Top Dog

Top dog holds the handle.
Top dog pulls the strings.
Top dog keeps the biggest part,
The best of everything.
Top dog never feels the pain
Or taste the bitter sting.
Top dog is the champion who
Gets to wear the ring.
Top dog gets the grandest view,
The chance to taste it all.
Top dog rides the rooftops with
The farthest to fall.

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The Expert

The expert stands in the midst of a pasture
Surrounded by cow pies and other manure,
Spreading advice like jelly on toast
Until hardly an ear can escape or endure.

Who could amass such a trivia trove?
Why must we listen?
When will it end?
Experts and bullshit hand in hand,
One washing the other, their only true friends.

Knowing it all is a cumbersome burden,
One that I hope never settles on me.
Hopefully there's always more for the learning.
"Expert" is one thing I don't want to be.

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The Innocent Bystander

Just passing by,
Minding my business,
Meaning no harm,
Intending no wrong,
Wanting no evil
To darken my doorway,
Never expecting
To hear danger's song.
Resting my guard
In the cool of the evening,
Easing concern
As the world passes by,
Primed as a victim
To predators watching,
Walking contentedly
Where dangers lie.
Who would have known?
Who could have guessed
That the bystander's trust
Could have been so betrayed?
Just passing by,
Minding my business.
Left dashed, disillusioned,
Bashed and afraid.

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Sparkles

Crystalline fireflies dance on the water
Like Mister Bojangles tapping a tune.
The sun settles in with the earth as its' pillow.
Its waltz on the water gives way to the moon.

Dewdrops awaken the clear mountain morning,
Touching the light to its' delicate beads.
Sparkling fancy foretelling the future,
The crystal of gypsies fulfilling our needs.

Champagne bubbles race to the surface,
A few clinging fast to the side of the glass.
Rising and gasping and bursting in air,
Joyfully, thankfully free at last.

Where do you look to find your sparkles?
What will you cling to when day is done?
Who will you sing to when shadows grow tall
And the lake waters dance with the setting sun?

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Going Home

Dawn breaks across the north Georgia Mountains
Like a peek-a-boo child in a harmless game,
Flashing its' smile between tall standing pine,
Piercing the windows of the slow moving train.

Kudzu so thick by the side of the tracks
Blanketing hillsides, fences and trees,
Smothering, choking the edge of the forest,
Bringing the mighty oak to it’s' knees.

Off in the distance the cattle are grazing.
A corn field flies by topped with gold-braided hair.
The peaks and the valleys misted with bluish gray
Mystery, haunted by crisp morning air.

Pensiveness grows into anticipation,
Anxious to see those familiar faces,
Wondering what changes may have occurred.
Will you still recognize people and places?

Change is inevitable, constant, ongoing,
No matter how far or how long we may roam.
Shall we philosophize or be pragmatic?
No time to think of that.
We're going home.

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If It's Good For You, It Must Taste Awful

Remember all those medicines
You took when you were little.
Paregoric, castor oil, vile liquids
Blackened to opaque.
Mom said, "It will make you better", but I do believe
I'd rather have green apples
And a three-day bellyache.
Where is justice? Sweet as honey.
Who decided in such haste
That everything that's good for you
Should have such awful aftertaste?
Flavor it with grape or cherry.
Mix it with some orange juice.
Tease it with a twist of lemon.
Bribe me with a chocolate moose.
Why can't ice cream be a cure-all
Instead of what we must endure?
Then we'd all be clamoring
To catch the illness for the cure.
Life is filled with irony
And one thing is always true...
It most likely will taste awful
If it's really good for you.

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My latest creation is on Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0359184669/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i27

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The Envelope Please

The suspense is building.
Anxiety runs thick in the air
Like the mist of a fog.
The crowd is aflutter
With anticipation.
Suspended in tension
Awake and agog.
Who could have written
This narrative drama
Dripping with circumstance,
Clinching its' fist
In white-knuckled wanting,
Holding its' breath,
Waiting to see
Whose star has been kissed?
Finally, the time is here.
A prayer ascends from bending knees.
Who will it be?
Will it be me?
Oh god! The envelope, please.

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Waking Up In The Middle Of the Night

I shouldn't have had that last glass of water,
That last cup of coffee,
Last drink of tea.
Shouldn't have drifted off
With a mind racing, recalling, reliving
The day angrily.
Dreams have a habit of walking the night,
Waking with fright as their victims fall prey,
Fearful of yesterday,
Dreading tomorrow,
Wondering what will arrive with the day.
Pity the mind can't erase all it's worry,
Blank out regrets and
Make everything right.
Sleep is too precious to be interrupted.
I hate waking up in the cold of the night.

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Why Do We Cheat Each Other?

Lessons come hard for cheaters.
They don't always get it the first time,
The second, the third.
Someone forgot to tell them their shortcut
To finding the answer was terribly wrong.
Somewhere along the highway of lessons in life
They simply did not get the word.
Or somehow the tune went awry in their minds,
Erasing the words to the song.

Wanting and winning and taking and getting
Are viruses growing, infecting the heart,
Dulling the senses of kindness and giving,
Setting compassion alone and apart.
What do we win when we covet our neighbor?
What prize does envy align on our shelves?
Nothing is gained when we cheat on each other.
We just wind up cheating ourselves.

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The Bitch Was Right

"What a bitch!" Was his quick response.
"How could she say that to me?"
What was her motive?
What did I do?
What does she want me to be?

So defensive... So damned touchy...
Can't she take a joke?
Can't she see my side of things?
Why must I wear her yolk?
I don't need this from anyone,
Won't take it anyway.
There's plenty more where she came from.
Tomorrow's another day.

Then comes tomorrow's calm reflection,
Simmering through the night.
Often said, a clearer head
Reveals the "bitch" was right.

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Do You Love...?

Do you love to see the sunrise,
Pink and orange, blue and red?
Do you watch it settle on the tree tops,
Nodding off to bed?
Do you love to hear the robin sing?
...To watch the rabbits play?
Can you sit and watch the autumn trees
'Til the leaves have blown away?
Do you love the snow?
Do you love the rain?
...The wheat fields green and gold?
Will you stay with me?
Will you be with me when
We both are growing old?
Do you love the thought of a happy heart?
Is it what you want to be?
Would it make you sad if we were apart?
Tell me true,
Do you love me?

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What Is A Friend?

How many friends do you have in your life?
Not acquaintances, coworkers, fair-weather friends,
Not neighbors or vendors you see on occasion
Exchanging a joke-de-jour, flashing a grin.

A friend... A true friend is a diamond uncut,
A treasure unmeasured by gemstone or gold,
A movie awaiting a storybook ending,
A welcoming shelter, relief from the cold.

Who can you tell your most intimate secrets
And not expect judgement or guilt in return?
Who do you go to when life gives you roses?
Who shares desire for the things that you yearn?

Whose is the shoulder you seek in your sorrow?
Whose are the eyes that reflect your delight?
Who is the one who will stand at your side
And go toe to toe when you fight the good fight?

Who sees you through and then comes back to you
Sharing joys and sorrows, the good times, the strife?
The question unanswered. Think through it once more.
How many friends do you have in your life?

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God Bless the Givers

The world is overpopulated with
Those who only take.
Grasping grabbers, cold back-stabbers

Always on the make.

Rolex wearing, never caring,

Always wanting more.

Never knowing sacrifice,

A bold self-serving whore.

With oh! So many on the take,

Not knowing how to live,

We cherish those who can forsake

Themselves and learn to give.

Parables are written and

Stories touch the soul

Of those kind-hearted givers

Who sacrifice their goals

To deliver aid and comfort

To those who are in need,

Who never ask for recompense

For their unselfish deeds.

God bless the givers,

Bless them all,

Their numbers multiply.

Inner peace befriends the hearts

Of those who don't ask why.

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Look At Me

I've never been to a nudist camp
Where folks parade undressed,
Never spent the day at a topless beach
Where women flaunt their breasts.
A slave to inhibition I
Suppose I'll always be.
Too shy to display just a smile
And say,
"Hey world! Come look at me!"

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Do Naked People Have More Fun?

They say that "clothes doth make the man".
The woman also, I suppose.
But is this hang-up accurate?
What is this thing we have with clothes?
No quibbling. I know the answer.
The mystery resolved.
The most fun that I've ever had,
No clothing was involved.

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Trying To Quit

Habits can be such a pain,
Can cause you anguish,
Give you fits.
Especially when you decide
It's really time to call it quits.
Physically and mentally
You're never quite prepared.
Talking tough is easy
Though inside you're really scared
To think of giving up your crutches,
Cherished little quirks.
It really burns when others spurn
Cajolingly and smirk
And smile and even laugh out loud
At your latest vain attempt.
The last thing that you need is mocking
When you seek redemption
From the strangle hold, creating a
Revival from the deep.
Self-denial is enough to
Make the strongest weep.
Finding all the puzzle pieces,
Seeing how they fit,
No one knows how tough it goes
Until they try to quit.

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Break Dancing! What the hell was that all about?

Phases, fads, forgotten fashions
Come and go, unbridled passions
Stealing through into the night,
Swirling whirlwinds in their flight.

Frisbees, yo-yos, hula hoops,
Derby hats and spats... Zuit-suits
And boogie-boards to cruise the waves,
All the hep-cats were the rave.

It was not so long ago
Break dancing was the latest craze.
Twisting, spinning, topsy-turvy,
How they would amaze the
Sedentary like myself
Who watch in awe from an easy chair,
Wondering how the hell can they do
What they're doing there?
Better yet, I wondered "why"?
What scheme? What aim? What plan?
The answer is a simple one.
They do it 'cause they can.

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Break It Up

Stop that fighting! Break it up!
No bickering allowed.
Do that stuff when you're alone,
Not standing in a crowd.
Talk it out. Don't stand there yapping
Like a bitten pup.
Grown up people keep their heads.
For god's sake, break it up!

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Nothing Rhymes With Orange

Have you ever tried to make a rhyme
With orange as the key?
A simple word,
But how absurd!
How hard could it possibly be?
Orange, borange, corange, dorange,
'Unwords' come to mind.
Not a single one with meaning
Can I seem to find.
I guess it's simply meant to be,
A word that's so unique.
Nothing rhymes with orange
In this language that we speak.

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Dad, Why Is the Sky Blue?

Father cringes at the question,
Certain of its' imminent asking.
"Dad, why is the sky blue?"

Hoping to delay the answer,
Searching hard for understanding,
Wishing it was asked of someone,
Anyone but you.

There's no time for heavy research.
You should know, must know right now.
No delay, no time to play,
Just have your say and take your bow.
And if by chance one question paves
The way to yet another,
Don't hesitate, do not delay,
Just say, "Go ask your mother."

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Give It Up

Give it up.
The horse is dead,
And beating it won't help.
No need to keep on
Strumming on those strings.
Time is up so
Just move on,
Next subject if you please.
Let's see what new events
Tomorrow brings.

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If Sex Was Like Medicine

The good lord had the right idea
By making sex so much good fun.
A simple act to be enjoyed,
Employed by almost everyone.
But if it wasn't such a joy,
A treat, a prince's ball,
If sex was more like medicine,
Would we be here at all?

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Are We There Yet?

Are we there yet?
Will we be there soon?
I need to know.
Can we stop here?
Are you listening?
Please, I've got to go.

What time is it?
What time will it be
When we get there?
When will we leave to
Go back? Please,
Tell me if you care.

Life's a highway that
We travel. Twisting, curving,
 Right left turns.
Kindling fires of grand desire that
Smolders, flashes, flames and burns.

Calling to the open road
Which offers up its' dare.
Burning questions dwindle down
To one.
Are we there?

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When Will It End?

This is exquisite.
It surely won't last.
Enjoy it now while you can.
Pleasure is fleeting,
It glides on the wind,
No particular motive or plan.
It's there if you seek it,
Replies if you speak its name,
Won't flee in a flash,
Comes back if you beckon
Requiring no reckoning surcharge,
No credit, no cash.
To find your desires, your
Castle of dreams
Is to find your one fated friend.
To revel in life
Without asking questions,
Not knowing...
Not caring...
When will it end?

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