New Path

There’s dirt in my shoes

Today I walked a new path

I’m on foreign soil



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