Unposted Letters

Unposted letters
being as they are
random thoughts
as well,
Postage stamps
lying about
wanting closure
but I
have laid down my pen
for lack of things to write
or, of things to say
which are going unsaid,
Gentle reminders
of things to do
to get accomplished
getting on with my life,
when they finally, purposely
are sent away…

Hitting a Nail

Hitting a nail
not on the head
a bit to one side,
where my finger lay
If I, an optimist were,
I would be happy
knowing that my head
or, any number of nails
were safe from the anger
in the strength of my arm,
If I, a pessimist were,
then I might curse
my inability, my lack of talent
to strike such an easy target,
if it hadn’t been
for my thumb
being where it was
at the wrong moment
of moments,
The pain of remembering
diminishes until
something needs to be
thumbed by that thumb
making me think whether
thinking good or, bad thoughts
would have changed
this situation into something else,

a black thumbnail tomorrow
will surely bring this argument
to light, in a dark way,
once again…


Laughing, makes for
no break to smile
a quiet smile
when she used to,
when I wanted to,
She used to laugh
at my jokes, making me
make her laugh again,
without stop
wanting her to
waiting for her to,
We laughed until
our sides hurt,
breaking the distance
the awkward silence
between us, two
I wanted to see her
a smile, no less, no more

Just a smile,
when the laughter died out
and her Cheshire Cat smile

remained on my lips…

Dancing Leaves

Dancing leaves
moving, flying
motioning me
to join in,
I must profess
never having learned
dancing that is,
a degree of hesitation
wanting to move
in the same direction
along the way, just not
along with everyone else
Join us, they say
waving in the wind
as my only fears
concern being swept away
with my new friends..

All The Ages

All the ages
my father was
I’m living them
he was old, you know
when I was young,
One day he asked me,
“when is Rap Music done with?”
Soon, I hope, Soon, I replied.
We were two, you know
children of the last millennium,
When I was young, he was old,
his music was not mine, but then
his music was Country, and mine, Rock
when a day came by, and I listened
to his music, which became mine as well,
What did you do, when you were young, like me?
who did you love and did it hurt as much
and why did you make the choices, you did?
All of those questions, I never asked,
and how could I know what the answers meant,
not having lived as long as he?
And my son, does he understand my music?
Just as much, as I understand his,
and how he thinks, and if he wonders
what it is like, being who I am,
and how I got here, after all those years
and how I still haven’t reached
my father’s age,
Not his final age, just some of them
in-between, and not the same kinds
and not the same music, and Rap is
still around, and I am too,
All the ages, my father was
until this point in time, not being
finished as well, and would you like
to know my mind, when my time
reaches his?

When all my ages reach his….

A Small Scratch

scratched my car,
a Communist, no less
or, an Anarchist,
up to no good, envious
for the likes of the rest
of us,
or, someone who was jealous
of my wife, a scorned lover
someone who desired me,
but was rejected, a scratch
a slight inconvenience to others
a wound on my pride,
Someone, who didn’t like how
my bread was buttered, or how
my dog lifted his leg on their lawn
Someone, who couldn’t accept
how someone like me,
would be upset, by such a trifle
Someone who lacked any morals
and couldn’t adjust to the life
the rest of us led,
Someone who would go
to any lengths to show the world
that people like me,
weren’t allowed to own
such beauty, possess love
and the grace of God,
Discounting the possibility
of driving too close to the side
the side of the road with the branches
so evilly dragging their claws
into someone’s car, like mine,
Communists and Anarchists
whose lack of regard for planting
their spiny bushes too close for comfort
where people like me, not paying
any attention to their heinous ways,
drove his car too close to their evil,

Just an unfortunate, hunted, persecuted someone, like me…

Weathering Her

She was a tempest

a storm unbridled

shaking my windows and doors,

turning my thoughts

inside out,


Her stormy intentions

darkening horizons

wind lashed hearts

unprotected emotions,


She took me,

and tossed me about,

a ship, lost on endless

ocean currents, frothy whitecaps

drowning embraces,


Her salty kisses

taking me by storm, her jealousy

not being able to stop the advances

of waves and waves

undulating emotion, rolling over

my unsheltered soul,


I, with my sowester,

and stern determination

advancing towards

my fate,

my love


Lightning arcing

the sky illuminated

incensed as if afire

her passions rose and fell

like ships upon the ocean’s



My shipwrecked heart

lying broken and alone

upon the shores of her mercy


Her fury,

leaving no emotion unturned


Her love….