Rhymes

Love Remains I’ve heard it said… That even if a man came back from the dead We still wouldn’t listen to a word that he spoke We’d tell stories about him around fire and smoke We’d call him a ghost So we’d haunt ourselves with old memories instead And leave his ghost to grow lonely inside his own head   I once knew a man They cut off his hand Buried it in the African...

It’s always there It’s the air that we breathe in It’s the water that we swim in It’s the current that takes us Down to the altar and makes us Drown   This water, it used to be wine Until we tried to trade our shame For thirty silver coins salvaged from a shipwreck that We bought off the docks with a hand written check that… Bounced   And now Shame is the currency we...

Misrepresented. The artistic renderings Had cast me as a saint. Separation Makes the heart grow fonder. But it doesn’t teach you how to paint A man you never really saw. The one that left never came back. I did.   No firetrucks came To put out my burning life. It was consumed like wood, hay and stubble. Deconstructed By hellfire missiles. As I sort through the rubble, At the bottom of that pile Is a...

I’m untouchable. People think my shadow Has PTSD land mines. They keep their distance, Heads down, Safe behind the line Of yellow Traumatic Hazard Tape. No one wants to get blown to hell. Look what it did to me.   Life gave me chains To wear on my ankles. I broke them and made wind chimes. They sing how the breeze doesn’t blow back But forward. That love always rhymes. I have my storms. Depressions...

A poet walks in and pours himself all over the bar. He looks at every patron near and far. Word after word he brings to bear. Yet not even a single person really seems to care. Yet he refuses to stop and recites some old lyrics. But it is almost as if the patrons can’t hear it. He decides to give a few limericks a chance. But some grumpy old man just spits chaw on...

You sit there hidden away from the world, Sitting against your favorite knobby trunked Willow. Hiding from the hot July Sun with your head on a Burl pillow. Meanwhile participating in epic adventures in far off lands, Touring across the galaxies and exploring unknown desert sands. You have an infinite number of possibilities, The multi-verse of knowledge at your very fingertips, Should you just apply yourself to whatever problem is at hand. The princess desperately...

Once upon a lonely morning facedown in the grass I layed when I saw a tiny little flower hiding under the tall blades   I was amazed at it’s perfection so hidden, so unseen too insignificant to give color to the world of green   Tenderly I touched the purple petals and wonder filled my heart because that tiny speck of color had made my loneliness depart

Oh, the joy of riding my bike in the rain The water logged air Kisses my face The distance is shrouded in grays.   Oh, the joy of riding my bike in the rain The water rich clouds Release their wealth The earth drinks to its health.   Oh, the joy of riding my bike in the rain The watery darts Are aimed at me But I laugh, My joy, my victory.

There is an elephant in the room Silence threatens Like an omen of doom   My mind fills with dark imaginations As unspoken words Call out for speculations   Reality starts to disappear And rational thought Is replaced by fear   I fight the urge to run away The silence breaks And I see the light of day.

Love is in the heart of the beholder And sees beyond the veil Love yearns for connection And covers imperfection It clothes the world with splendor And hears the distant songs Love climbs up to the summit Where the heart belongs.