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Writer, author, Navy vet, musician, intermittent mystic, old soul and practicing poet

Poetic Udderance

There comes a time –
Let’s say it’s now
when it’s fine to rhyme
said the studious cow

So I thought it over
and said I’ll try
and the cow ate clover
while I penned these lines

And the sky was blue,
The fat clouds, white
And I sang “I’m through!”
to the cow’s delight

The End

Packin’em In

The gaping maw of hell
will need to be widened
to accommodate
the sheer volume of lying
rushing headlong there
and more chairs for the table
by the devil’s right hand
will surely be added
A higher mind than mine
might be saddened
instead of applauding
their passage

Now Showing

Murderers make good neighbors
so the neighbors say
Never caused any trouble
Always a smile and a wave
We’re sales presentations
Walking slide shows
like pocket squares in suit coats
or scarves in every color
Who do we really know?
Not even ourselves


What is waking at three
in the morning to pee
but poesy
The moon
brightly shining
Owls grasping
errant field mice
from the tall grass
whispering secrets
like they do when
when the sun is away
knocking on other
folks doors
Getting up
to pee

True Sight

I watched a delightful
young smiling boy with
bright brown blind eyes
learning braille
Eager fingers tracing
the words and drawings of
“The Little Prince”
The joy
on his face
far beyond
language and
I cried
it was I
not him
that was blind

I Believe

If there be a heaven or
some nirvana we slip into
once we slip out of these
wretched meat suits
I assume it smells like
Nag Champa incense
floating through and
entwining with the
heady aroma of freshly
brewed coffee
for that is

A Tale of Water

I was afraid of it then
The water
I would jump in the
shallow end of the pool
standing straight up
as if on a pogo stick
My feet planting on the
bottom while my head
stayed above
until once it didn’t
My feet shooting from under me
trying to grab air with my hands
certain I would drown until my
mother pulled me up
The Navy later cured me
of my reticence
and now I fear it anew
Not for the lack of air
but for the memories there
waiting in the deep


These late evening geese
Their V cutting along the
imposing edge of night
sound like human voices
mingling in the distance
A party to which I
was not invited
but would have liked
to have been
Just to travel with them
To feel that belonging
for a few twilight miles
I hear them still
Fading away

Fire Born

I was born of fire
long after my birth
A raw gem
in need of polishing
and life obliged me
The coarse wheel tore
me the longest
Shaped me
and now
my remaining days
are fodder for the
fine grit
to render those
harshly etched

I Can See The Wind

Some shift has come
Some magic
not of my doing
Time rendered to a crawl
I’ve been up for hours
yet the clocks barely move
at all
Around the house I have gone
upstairs and down
checking each one
They all read the same
Strange day
has arrived here
I can see the wind