Out of the Sky

Shock and awe rain out of the sky 
 -A perpetual juddering whirligig – 
Sending even the strongest, shuddering, 
Seeking shelter from the crippling storm.

The constantly pounding juggernaut 
Creating bedlam and confusion til 
Nowhere in this endless night is there 
A place that’s safe from harm.

I pause and ponder what unforgivable 
Evil deed I must have done to 
Summon this Hell from the firmament 
To overwhelm and paralyze .

Surely, there is justice somewhere, 
Some great karma round the bend 
With shielding power to sustain us 
So we might survive.

This is madness, 
Vile nightmare, 
This undue cacophony 
That seems incessant in its measure. 
Must it be the end of me?

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Do It Now

Don’t wait. 
There’ll never be a better time. 
Do it now. 
Scratch it off your bucket list, 
Kiss that one you should have kissed, 
Whate’er the fates allow, 
Do it now.

Take a chance 
When the wheel comes spinning round to 
Find romance. 
There’s a one for everyone so 
Set your sights beyond the sun, 
Never leave the race unrun. 
Do it now.

It’s okay. 
There’s no need to put it off 
Another day. 
There’s no time for mincing words,  
Wasting time would be absurd. 
You can argue afterward, 
Just do it now.

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A Ballad of Nations

Here in this land where all are free 
To enjoy the triumph of liberty 
We celebrate a history 
Of constant faith and loyalty.

Beneath Her broad majestic skies 
A royal feast enchants our eyes
And every day brings new surprises 
Filled with fruitful energy.

We are one people, proud and strong 
With balance between right and wrong 
Who bravely sing our victory song 
For us and for our progeny.

When the storm clouds overcome 
And fate belays our dream, 
We’ll lift the torch of liberty 
Rejoicing in Her golden beam.

Kingdoms will fade and empires go 
In melancholic fits of woe, 
But this republic continues to grow 
To seek its greatest destiny.

And when it all is said and done 
We will look back on all we’ve won.

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Fireworks Over the Harbor

Boom – Pop – Pow – Rumble – 
Flash – Sparkle – Ooh and Wow! 
Glistening off the black harbor waters 
Like flames on a mirror to hypnotize.

Dazzling the gathering throng 
With magical brilliance of wonderment 
In fervent celebration of 
Our cherished nation’s dazzling rise.

Glint and glitter, 
Flurry and flicker, 
The rockets shrill shriek of dismay , 
The burst and the blaze of 
The fierce cannonade. 
How can anyone dare walk away?

We are rows of corn 
Gazing into the skies 
To the rich psychedelic 
Feast for the eyes. 
And fantasy flourishes to extreme, 
Uplifting the soul… 
Inspiring the dream.

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Night Shadows and Nightmares

Night shadows fall as 
The sun sings his curtain-call 
Eerily stalking in stark apparition. 
Should be a time for peaceful reflection, 

Soothing and still at the end of the day.

Soon eyes must close 

As sleep is a requisite. 
A full day tomorrow… must be refreshed. 
Cannot be slave to inane inconveniences. 
Won’t let clear nuisances get in the way.

But demons have other ideas and intentions. 
They skulk in the background ready to pounce 
At the first sign of slumber 
Dredging up images, 
Horrors, unthinkable, pulled from the past.

So long ago in a faraway place 

Nightmares that time can never erase 

One moment there, bright smiling face, then 
Gone in an instant without a trace.

Oh, God, how long must this wicked night last?

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Pride

Pride is a peacock strutting his plumage, 
Climbing the ego escalator, 
Bubble-wrapped in vanity and 
Void of all humility, 
Vainglory arrogance taken to the nth degree.

Snobbery trumps self-esteem and 
Dignity yields to vain conceit, 
And honor becomes a stranger 
Begging quarters for a bite to eat.

But then…
Nothing’s wrong with hubris tempered 
With a skosh of self-respect, 
An ornamented mystery 
Where truth and logic intersect.

Pride in appearance, 
Pride in community,
Pride in the nation that we serve. 
Pride in our yearning for liberty 
Gives us the freedom we deserve.

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N.I.M.B.Y. (not in my back yard)

Everyone agrees it’s a good idea, 
One that will reap a real benefit. 
Just don’t put it in my back yard. 
That’s something I simply will not permit.

Now, I’m not heartless, don’t you know? 
I feel compassion for those folk, 
But I don’t want them in MY neighborhood. 
My God! I think I’d have a stroke

If I had to associate, or 
Even pass them on the street. No. 
Let them find someplace where 
Indiscretion isn’t indiscreet.

What? You think I’m insincere? 
You say that I’m a hypocrite? 
My friend, I have you know that 
I am totally the opposite.

I don’t mind if you have your way. 
I’ll even stand as your vanguard. 
Go! Build the project of your dreams…
Just not in my back yard.

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Korea

Bastards took us by surprise 
Pouring across the thirty-eighth 
Like roaring banshees on steroids 
Bashing down the gates of hell.

Why they want this damnable place 
Only Satan can be sure. 
But if they take Korea, where will it end? 
It seems impossible to tell.

The “red threat” has to perish here 
Before it spreads across the sea, 
Else we may lose all we hold 
Of freedom, life and liberty.

Lines are drawn. A stalemate dawns 
And still the clash ensues. 
Sad emissaries play their games and 
As both sides bicker, 
Both sides lose.

Five million precious souls are lost 
In this gruesome “conflict” metaphor. 
What kind of lie let’s so many die 
And they won’t even call it a war.

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Fragments of Hope

Even in the worst of times 
When faith dwells near abandonment, 
And trust appears a unicorn 
Impossible to hold, 
These tiny fragments still remain 
And lift their voices in refrain 
To sing that we are foreordained 
To softly tread on streets of gold.

We know not our destiny, 
Dare not rely on prophecy 
To foretell outcome in our “wannabee”. 
But if these fragments are employed 
Their roots can flower into joy 
And lift us from the dregs of drudgery.

Let all rejoice to realize 
That optimism never dies, 
But gently waits in patient afterglow. 
Its colorful kaleidoscope 
Exists in fragments filled with hope 
And that is all we really need to know.

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The Pledge

It may not be the popular trend 
To quote the pledge, hand over heart; 
Some backlash from the “me” generation 
Hesitant to be a part of 
Something larger than themselves. 
They dodge all symbols of commitment, 
Shunning lyrics of allegiance 
With a scowl of vague resentment.

I was taught to show respect 
And carry hubris in my stance
When symbols of my cherished land 
Remind of my inheritance.

The brave, the fearless patriots 
Who gladly gave their all. 
Who held her battle colors high 
And never let them fall.

Red for those who shed their blood 
So others might live free. 
White, for virtues unreproached 
And cherished purity. 
Blue proclaims our loyalty, 
No thought of sacrilege.

Yes, I will stand and raise my hand 
With pride to quote the pledge. 

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Courage

Courage is a baby duckling 

Blindly following its mother 
Without question, without knowing 
Where the final outcome leads.

Courage is a strangling oak 
Pushing up through stony grounds, 
Needing only sun and rain 
To win its struggle to survive.

Courage is the patriot 
Who hides his feelings deep inside 
But stands with pride with hat in hand 
Each time the colors pass him by.

No threat too trivial to challenge, 
Even death cannot deter 
This loyal servant from his duty, 
Valliant to the bitter end.

When the world grows dark we seek 
These bold, intrepid sentinels 
To bear the cause of liberty, 
For freedom grows where courage dwells.

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The Future is Now

“Oh, I’ll get around to it someday,” 
The procrastinator chimes. 
“Right now, this, tomorrow, that. 
It’s only a matter of time.”

But time doesn’t stay, 
It keeps running away, 
And tomorrow may never arrive
We cannot foresee and there’s no guarantee 
We’ll be lucky enough to survive.

The young man may look to the future, 
And the young woman sketches her schemes. 
But chance and delay comes to get in the way 
Causing chaos to shatter their dreams.

Rosanna retires with a whimpering whine 
After decades of struggle and sweat, 
But the greatest desires 
Of her youth have expired 
And now she looks back with regret.

Tomorrow’s dark phantom 
Looks back with a scowl 
To humbly remind us… 
The future is now.

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Watch the Horizon

Life, they say, is much smarter 

When we live in the present and 
Learn from the past.
But this ship moves incessantly forward 
With no clue to how long 
The voyage may last.

So, we watch the horizon 
For sails and for shore, 
Watch the sky for the birds on the wing, 
Bless the bounty below and 
Thank God up above 
For the hope opportunity brings.

But perilous waters on tossed stormy seas 
Give pause and are cause for alarm, 
So, the vigil we keep 
As we traverse the deep 
Is the passport to keep us from harm.

Hence, we live in the moment 
Enjoying the warm, 
But we watch the horizon 
To weather the storm.

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Tattoos

I’m not a grand fan of tattoos. 
My tastes are a bit more subdued, 
But if you like pain 
And have little to gain 
I suppose there is nothing to lose.

A young man from Kalamazoo 
Demanded a tiger tattoo. 
The feline attacked, 
Made the young man his snack 
Then the tiger went back to the zoo.

A father thought tatts were taboo, 
A garishly bold bugaboo. 
The daughter cried, “Bull!” 
Then inked on a skull. 
It was a fine how-do-you-do.

A drunken tattoo scribed in haste 
Was considered a dreadful mistake. 
Says the artist in question, 
“May I make a suggestion. It’s 
A matter of personal taste.”

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Priorities

What to do and when to do it,

Help me, Lord, find my way through it. 
Just keeps getting tougher all the time. 
As many needy palms beseech 
As pebbles strewn upon the beach, 
As muddled as a syncopated mime.

Need an organized triage 
To treat this maddening barrage 
Insuring most important tasks get done. 
Caffeine may help clear the brain 
To deal with lessers that remain 
And maybe leave a little time for fun.

If we can swift prioritize 
Events that come into our lives 
With all the logic each must quantify, 
Then as we opt which way to go 
We seek the wisdom of Thoreau 
And log his sage advice… simplify.

Tangled, tossed priorities
Buzzing like the busy bees, 
An easy one word summary… 
Simplify.

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Sing it Again

Sing me a song of a bright peerless dawn 
Under crystalline cloudless skies, 
Where the air breathes clean 
Over mountain and stream 
And the golden eagle flies.

Sing me a song of the land that I love 

In a gentle lullaby, 

Where I can live free 

In sublime liberty 

As the years roll quietly by.

Sing me a song of a patriot’s dream 

And his fearless battle cry, 

With his ungrudging guile, 

His will and his wile 

And the fire in his eye. 

Sing me a song about freedom’s hope 

With the soothing strains of violin. 

Sing softly and sweet 

And when it’s complete, 

If you don’t mind, please, 

Sing it again. 

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War Changes Everything

Don’t know why we all can’t simply get along 
As a people, as a nation, as a realm. 
Clearly, there are differences 
Between what’s right and wrong. 
No need to let discussion overwhelm. 

But war changes everything.

We are children on a playground 
Running, laughing, wild and free 
Until some pretentious bully comes along 
Demanding tribute’s lame intimidation, 
Stirring trouble, insisting that we pirouette 
To his self-serving song. 
Yes, war changes everything.

Patience stretches just so far 
Til common sense prevails. 
Only one thing to be done 
To pass these dire travails. 
Must stand tall, must forestall this 
Brutish cold incursion. 
Force to force is all the tyrant
Understands in his perversion.

But even when we win, we fail 
In losses beyond measure.

Young men die and loved ones weep 

Protecting the ideas they treasure…
Because war changes everything.

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Walking the Perimeter

It might just be the loneliest job 

Necessity ever created, 
A mindless abandonment of willful thought 
Meant only to keep the wolf subjugated.

Walking in lockstep with himself, 
Weapon at ready to challenge on sight, 
Waiting, watching, now watching some more 
For shape-shifting phantoms stalking the night.

Desperately striving to stave off the beast of sleep. 
Eyes open, must stay alert. 
Gazing out into the wide swathe of nothing 
Til memory forestalls and senses pervert.

How much longer? How many more steps 
Til this ceaseless night comes to conclusion? 
Up again, down again, making the rounds again 
Til the night is a mask of illusion.

It’s a thankless task, 
But someone must do it. 
Millions have managed before 
To get through it. 
He walks the perimeter, keeping his keep 
While armies of millions are sound asleep. 

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Learn from Yesterday

“Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.”
                                                                      George Santayana

We clearly keep making the same mistakes. 
You’d think we’d learn our lesson. 
Could it be we’re not paying attention, or 
Is it some kind of mem’ry regression.

It could simply be habit, or
Maybe we’re lazy. 
Perhaps we should blame the occult. 
We just do the same thing again and again 
Expecting a different result.

You might think with all of our rational thinking 
We’d learn to look back on the past 
And learn from the errors of yesterday
And the caution their warnings forecast.

Painted on a larger canvas, 
Juxtaposed and brought to scale, 
The errors of the past deliver 
Advice for these perplexing travails.

Nations turn and history records 
The gruesome résumé, and 
Hopes become fantasy if we fail to 
Learn from yesterday.

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Believe in Tomorrow

The gilded game of life is finite; 
All too soon it comes to end, 
And the promise on tomorrow 
Holds no faithful guarantee. 
But this affords no reason for 
Forsaking fondest dreams. There are 
Far too many wondrous episodes 
The mind cannot foresee.

Fortune pales without tomorrow’s pledge of 
Life, in all its finery, 
That promenades the passageways 
Of fondly fashioned destiny.

And brave imagination grows its promise 
Of a hope-filled fate 
Where splendid fruitful gardens of desire 
Patiently await.

Disquiet for the future 
Is adept at stealing joy away, 
But believing in tomorrow is no reason 
To forsake today.

So, here’s a plan: to make a plan, 
To plead, pilfer or borrow, 
To face the trials of today 
Believing in tomorrow.

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The Color of My Skin

Please, I ask, don’t hate me for the color of my skin.
This superficial coating isn’t really all I am. 
I promise I will judge you not; 
Might even call you friend 
In an all-inclusive parallelogram.

It’s not my fault that I was born to 
Parents who are white; 
A matter over which I’ve no control. 
And though I cannot understand 
Your struggle or your plight, 
Perhaps we’ll find some commonality inside our souls.

Traditions demand loyalty to generations past 
To perpetuate the evil as well as the sublime, 
Making changing attitudes a glacierous affair, 
Another Everest implausible to climb.

We wait, we pray the world will grant us favor 
That transgressions of the past may be absolved. 
We reach a hopeful hand across the table 
And the interaction softens our resolve. 

I won’t apologize or ask forgiveness 
For the prior generations of my kin.
I only want to meet you looking forward, 
So, I ask you, please, 
Don’t hate me for the color of my skin.

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The Dissident

It makes you wonder sometimes
Who these lame complainers are. 
Why don’t they simply get on board and 
March lockstep with the crowd?

Who do they really think they’re fooling 
With their roars and rallies and cries? 
Why do they seem so angry and 
Why are they so damned loud?

They are the voice of conscience. 
They are our soul’s sounding board. 
They’re nearby to give us balance 
When we’re falling on our sword.

A young and struggling nation 
Was quick to recognize 
That the scorching voice of dissidence 
Was the footpath to their prize.

The voices of Adams and Franklin and Paine 
Like a bell in sweet liberty’s day, 
Speaking of sovereignty, aching for freedom, 
Seeking, demanding! and willing to pay.

If not for these dissidents making their waves 
Our nation would never be free. 
And so, it’s essential to protect our right 
To speak volumes when we disagree.

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Don’t Blame the Soldier

Yes, it’s true. We lost this one. 
It did not turn out well. 
In spite of our might and the fact we were right 
The whole thing went straight to hell. 
But don’t blame the soldier.

The soldiers and sailors and brash leathernecks, 
The airmen and others untold, 
The boldest and bravest our nation could muster 
Could not change what was to unfold. 
So, don’t blame the soldier.

Unrest on the campuses, rioting streets 
Every night on the six o’clock news. 
Deceit and dissent a convenient excuse for 
Ill-twisted political views. 
No. don’t blame the soldier.

Let this be the lesson, and never forget 
If we dare task this nation to fight. 
If the goal is to win, we must go all in 
And our purpose be noble and right. 
And the soldier will follow, 
The soldier will serve without question. 
On that we depend. 
He’ll fight for his country
And the one who’s beside him 
Right through to the cold bitter end. 
So, please. Don’t blame the soldier.

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I Died (A Little) Today: The Letter Home

Dear Mom,
Sorry that I haven’t written to you for a spell. 
Things have been a little nuts around this crazy place. 
Sarge has had us pulling extra duty for a while 
What with Charlie lurking all around the base.

Rough day today. We were out there on patrol 
When our unit quickly came under attack. 
The fighting was so violent for a while 
I wasn’t even sure we’d make it back.

Truth is… not all of us returned. 
You remember my best friend, Billy Ray? 
I mentioned him to you in previous letters. 
Well… they’re shipping his remains back home today.

It all seemed to happen in an instant, 
We were talking what we’d do when we get home. 
Billy Ray had just told me some old dumb joke 
When the shots rang out. I turned and he was gone.

Don’t know if I can go back out tomorrow. 
I just want this stupid war to go away. 
The truth is, I think I’ll get past the sorrow, 
But a little piece inside me died today.

Don’t worry, Mom. I’m gonna be alright. 
Before you know it, my tour will be done. 
Gotta go for now. The Sarge is calling. 
We’ll be together soon. 
Love,
Your son

p.s. Tell Dad I love him.

At the End of the Day

Morning awakens a jumbled agenda of 
Caffeine-fueled fluster and clamoring clashes, 
Maddening mashes and time-crunching dashes 
Sprinkled with flashes of 
Echoed backlashes. 

Onward and upward the dreaded commute, 
The bottlenecked bobblehead manic pursuit. 
Every halt or delay, every pothole in route
Sending blood pressure soaring in hosts of hot flashes.

The workaday fever a muster of frenzy 
Raving and ravaging every last nerve, 
Draining the tank til there’s no more reserve,

And giving much more than those bastards deserve.

But…
At the end of the day 
It all goes away. 
All the worries and flurries 
Removed from the fray, 
And a soft prayer of thanks 
To the One up above 
For the privilege to live 
In the land that I love.

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For Those Who Wait… and Weep

It is not just the soldier who goes to war 
To boldly face the lost and lonely nights, 
Wondering what the next event might stir 
In a world where reality forestalls his precious light.

Father, mother, sister, brother, precious child 
Cherished lover all in one, all in tow 
He muddles through the fallow furrowed trenches 
Of his mind enrobed in murky hues of faded indigo.

And he and she and they who are forced to wait 
In silent proxy know his peerless pain, 
Cry his tears, feel the deepest fears that fills his night, 
That end is near and he will never see his home again.

A mother weeps, a father keeps a stoic front 
That fools no one – fools no one – no, not one. 
Tear-stained letters from a patient lover far away 
Whose tender heart’s emotions are undone.

They will be with him every step of his travail 
As duty compels and he silently walks his keep. 
And faith never falters, and hope knows no holiday 
For those who wait… 
Those who wait… and weep. 

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Reach for the Moon (20 July, 1969)

Shall we reach for the moon? 
For the planets beyond? 
Do we dare break the bonds of 
This blue marble sphere? 
Or ought we intern 
In this staid domicile 
Til eternity catches us 
Trembling in fear?

The thirst for adventure, 

To search the unknown, 
To reach the unreachable 
Next milestone. 
Is the yardstick a test of our ability 
To stretch beyond reason irrationally?

We look to the heavens. 

We long for the stars. 
We wonder and dream about 
Life up on Mars.

What once an impossible 
Thought to commune 
Becomes commonplace 
As we reach for the moon.

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Remember the Alamo

Be kind when you speak of the many brave souls 
Who gave their all at the Alamo

Against an overwhelming foe 

To win their freedom in Mexico.

With odds stacked as many as twenty to one 
The outcome foregone when the battle was done. 
And when the small fortress, at last overrun, with 
No prisoners taken, all is undone.

The beast, Santa Ana, no clemency lends 
As his horrible hoard on the mission descends. 
And Crockett and Bowie and Travers and friends 
Are doomed from the start to their ill-fated end.

Heroes and villains and legends are made 
As leaders emerge to conduct the crusade. 
And karma evokes a dear price to be paid 
When cannons erupt in intense fusillade.

And while San Jacinto’s fate softens the blow
In bringing an end to this imbroglio, 
When heroes are needed to make out pride glow 
We will always remember 
The Alamo.

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Liberty’s Lighthouse

Standing on the precipice 
High above the pounding surf 
Where oceans feud with continents 
In clamorous retort, 
She lifts her lamp to launch a light of
Welcoming and warning,
A blaze of brilliant radiance to
Guide her wayward waifs to port.

Where do you live, sweet Liberty?
What stories will you tell?
Why such a heavy price to pay to
Ride your carousel?
Why must you be so hard to win and
Harder yet to keep?
So many brave souls fight and die,
So many mothers weep. 

Alas, we mortals need exist  
In all our frailty 
With but one passion, one desire to
Live perfectly free.
We guard the night
Prepared to fight forever and a day,
And Liberty’s steadfast lighthouse
Is there to light the way.

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If the World Could Be…

If the world could be 
What I want it to be, 
I would love to see 
All God’s creatures run free. 

All the fish in the seas 
Every bird in the trees 
All in sweet harmony 
Like a Brahms symphony. 

And the people agree 
With a joyous esprit 
To the posh potpourri,
Such a grand jamboree. 

Every you, every me, 
Every he, every she 
Finds a new fantasy 
For all eternity, 

No more dark drudgery, 
No more debauchery. 
Kindness is the decree 
To the highest degree. 

Every heart filled with glee, 

Every life fancy-free, 
Love is our recipe. 
If only… 
If the world could be…

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