growing up


Is it a prism you look through,

bending truths to justify,

your racists view

Fantasy people,

in an author’s pages

Or humans

throughout the ages

Competition, contest or heat

Or species of the world,

scientists can meet

Nobody wins,

looking through this lens

All you will see

is the different color of skins

It’s an onward movement through time

descendants of common histories,

instead of a great division of mankind,

based on physical peculiarities.


Anti Spite

Don’t waste your time,

imploding with anger,

just because they did.

To strike back with more fire,

only burns your insides instead.

Especially when you watched them melt too.

It is not easy.

Your inner voice reacts too quickly.

You want them to feel as awful as you do…

and worse.

But the fight is not worth your fuel,

to let them get to you.

Do not let them win

by stepping into the ring.

Move past the petty.

Smile, and realize alive.

They will only beyond stress you out,

fill you with a rage

that we can all do without.

Skip forward.

These small things should never matter.

Even when your downloaded,

in the social media blatter.

These small things should never attack,

unless that is all you see.

Then you hate just to hate back.

Realize alive,

move above the spite.

Its not worth your soul,

to join an imaginary fight.


Channel Change

When you want to run away,


Seek out why you want to fly.

Find strength to look past the fear.

Look deeper inside the fright,

see all the good that just might.

Whisper into the noises,

close your eyes tighter to see.

Dream into the confliction,

and hug the worst part of free.

Sing with the deaf.

Paint for the blind.

Embrace the worst of your thoughts,

even the ones with no rhyme.

Run straight into the darkness,

carry your homemade candle.

Illuminate the hopeless,

a love spark they can handle.

Flower for the gun barrel,

new generations can learn.


Instead of cameras watching them burn.

Plant the hope for the children,

not the same re-run of hate.

Let us try a new channel,

so we can change all of our fate.


Lucky with You

I could win all the lotteries,

scratch off and drawings too.

But I would never be as lucky,

as the day I met you.

I could live in a castle,

born to be a king.

But I would sit all alone,

without my lady with a ring.

I could pick a winning clover,

and find the pot of gold.

But I’d rather be lucky with you,

and together grow old.

Faith Blanket

You pull it tight when your soul grows cold;

and your visions drift to a darker place.

Doubt and fear seep into the fold,

but wait to play your pocket ace.

A mother’s good night tuck,

love to fill you from the inside out.

pray for the others who are stuck,

help them escape society’s heavy grout.

A beacon to reflect what you do,

a GPS light-hope in life’s ADD storm.

Your faith is there to guide you,

the faith blanket keeps your soul warm.


I am the time traveler,

looking back,

unable to act…

yet I wish I could make a change.

I can try to scream, “Stop!  Don’t do it!!!”

But the sound proof memory glass…

And the movie still ends the same.

Close my eyes and jump forward,

try to see what it will be.

But it never is as I think I see.

I hope I can make it viable,

but life’s unknown x-factors

are the only reliable.

All the time I move along,

as the new leaves chill to wilt.

Time as the universe suture,

I drift in the non-stop current,

into the space time future.


Planted deep within
by the most graceful of hands
In the human center of thought
ruling the human made lands
Alive in those comfortable dreams
I danced in the youth of a child
I reigned in the wonder in our eyes
and felt safe in nature’s wild
I am the source of that inner voice
a mountain spring of knowledge pure
Bubbling glimpses of hope
to reinforce your decision sure
On your velvet couch of numbers and facts
I can never ask to lie down
I can never chose to quit the game
or decide to leave town
I am your full time resident
three roommates and friends
One in mind, one violent time
one can never will to end
But the ship is not mine to control
just your passenger lost again
Mispelled my name on your roster
when it was time to come in
Pleasure they convince that you earned
gifts they grant with envy
They turn their media spotlight on
And remind you that you feel happy
Still you continue to let the garbage seep in
Millions of flashing pictures and words
display these failure influencing images
all made with messages for the herd
Forced to drive in a straight line
Determined by decisions of what to broadcast
You choose to look and stare at the glare
loosening our ties I try to grasp
They are full of money back lies
on your weakness they pounce
They only see in terms of profit
and how to steal every last ounce
Those evil drugs and second guesses
Important moments of choice
I yelled and screamed my loudest
but you still listened to the wrong voice
They change your process of thought
those old men force a bad connection
They sabotage my compass of life
with you in the wrong direction
Forget their influence for free
step up and see the whole picture painted
Realize the outcome of your artist
with no more thoughts society tainted
They rearrange your natural values
locks to try and shut me out
But it is me with the key
to unlock the lies they shout



state of mis-union

All eyes on his speech,

handshake lobbying,  blah and blah.

Fresh lies in his preach,

promises to help Ma and Pa.

Words rehearsed with a worn out smile.

“America is great and getting better!”

But just wait a while,

for the opposition letter.

Facts, lies, sources and spies.

Wars, jobs and economic ties.

Same lines, different year,

old guard, new terrorist fear.

I wish I knew what they really say,

in the private cigar rooms of the big bosses.

What grand plans come into play,

when they decide who takes the losses.

Do they really want to give me a hand?

Or is that just for a constituent?

Is this to help We the People of the Land?

Or to cushion the multi-home retirement?

Best blogs for poets to read 2013

inside out questions

Should I lie for the man,

and be a good little worker bee?

Forgo who I am,

ignore the little voice of me?

Is it time to draw the line?

Stand up to the boss?

Risk the bank time,

and possible loss?

I just want to sleep at night,

and not regret the decisions.

Help the customers right,

avoid these shady intersections.

But I also need the paper,

numbers to add up and spend.

Feel a little safer,

Greedy means to an end.

If I won’t, others will.

Push me aside,

and get their fill.

So I become the Yes Man,

happy with my check.

Follow the big man’s plan,

and buy beer to forget.