Rude piercings

Dark tats

And hard curses

An illusion

Well played


Except for the tears


No one knew

Of the flower

Too delicate

For storms

Hidden safely

Inside her


Except for her


When she

Uncovers it

Her hardware

Will be gone


Except for the tats

Dance of the Madmen



In darkness

Just before the dawn

The madmen dance

Out on the lawn

Spin, scuttle, clop

For in the light

A toothless grin

A sunken eye

Or drooling chin

Betrays the madness

Deep within

Spin, scuttle, clop


They promenade

And curtsy low

They all join hands

And dosey doe

Spin, scuttle, clop

And as the threat

Of daylight spreads

They waltz their way

Back to their beds

To dance all day

Inside their heads

Spin, scuttle, clop




The eloquent Calliope

Muse of epic poetry

Who whispered words

While Homer wrote

The Iliad and Odyssey

Inspires men of every age

To put the pen upon the page

And with her wondrous

Rule of words

She turns the fool into a sage


(Originally posted August ’16)

So Close



While driving down

The road to town

One moonless

Summer night

Oncoming cars

Like shooting stars

Seemed merely

Streaks of light

And as we passed

So close, so fast

Our lives

Depended on

That we remain

Within our lane

Or chance

To meet head-on

And that is why

When cars go by

I check my mirror

With care

And hopefully

I’ll never see

An accident

Back there

To Destiny



The great white limousine rolled down

The road to Destiny,

And in it sat four revered men

Of great authority.

Religion and Tradition graced

The seat that faced the rear,

While in the back Philosophy

And Science sat so near.

Now when the road became so rough

That forward progress slowed,

Philosophy said, “Gentlemen,

Let’s try another road.”

“I think he’s right,” said Science,

Shuffling papers on his lap,

“I’ve been collecting data

And I’ve made a little map.”

Religion would not hear of it,

“‘Tis blasphemy!” said he,

“For God himself has set us on

“This road to Destiny.”

“Religion’s right,” Tradition chimed,

“It’s been agreed upon.”

And as they argued endlessly,

The limousine rolled on.

And in the end, their driver,

Who was named Necessity,

Would find that he would have to choose

The road to Destiny.


The Battle of Spring



As Winter shed her overcast

The sun began to show

And suddenly a knoll of grass

Appeared amid the snow

The withered blades lay all askew

Like soldiers in defeat

But as the yellow army grew

The snow began retreat

Soon Winter ceded and began

To run down to the shore

And even snowmen turned and ran

For Spring had won the war.