Wednesday, February 04, 2015


The journey was about to begin
a final step
and then the forever unknown
where life is not
in vast space
filled with total silence
but for life
with noise
made sacred
by twisting and curling
and tight-stretched
that dwelled on a speck
of dust
from a star
by quiet
and he packed his bags
with all the noise he could gather
for the journey
into silence
would take

Thursday, November 06, 2014

Why do we care?

Why do we care?
But we do
we care for ourselves
and others
we give
we receive
while all around us
trees and rocks
care not
we weave
through their maze
of mountains
our playgrounds
that fill us with awe
so much so
that we share
with others
that care
sights and sounds
for we alone

Friday, October 31, 2014

Hidden Inside

Each day was a flurry of activity
so much so that at night
with head upon pillow
it was hard to focus
on blur that darkened
and sleep halted
the world
until the sun broke
the silence
and he began
snapping photographs
throughout the days
so that at night
he had proof
that trees and birds
and cats and dogs
and even children
were all that time
hidden inside
his life
of blur.

Thursday, October 09, 2014

Another Chance

Called a bitter old man
he couldn’t figure it out
why it was
when it could have been
with the forever
what if
when he passed
on the invitation
to act like them
as they all were
at that time
but he turned away
until one day
seemed exactly
like the next day
and sandy beaches
on cold winter mornings
mingled with
blazing hot days
on unnamed mountain trails
in so many lands
that for many nights
he tried to remember
the places and the times
but sleep and dreams
erased those moments
until the pleasant nurse
was overhead
calling him
a bitter old man
and those words he remembered
as he walked the sandy shores
this time with purpose
in his steps
and a desire
to act
like them.

Friday, September 12, 2014


The end
was not an instant
but a time
of countless instances
that tried
but could not
become whole.

The Blackboard

He began writing the novel
on a blackboard
each page was printed
with a stick of chalk
a page completed
then erased
to make room
for the next
as the story unfolded
one page at a time
as the past
without edits
leaving but

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Flowers and Weeds

As a kid
he picked flowers
and sometimes weeds
with no mother
or father
he started a library
collecting used books
and carrying them with him
as he moved from this house
to that
until an uncle
found space
for him and his books
while he finished high school
and later he worked odd jobs
here and there
until his knack for drawing
flowers and plants
landed him a job
illustrating for a company
that printed botany books
and much later
after marriage
and two children
they moved to
the countryside
where he collected
flowers and weeds
and drew them
like nobody else
and once a month
he took the train
to downtown Tokyo
and sold just enough
drawing and watercolors
to feed and clothe his family
for one more month
until his children were
old men that lived
and worked in Tokyo
and his wife fell ill
and so quickly
she was gone
and all by himself
he drew and painted
his flowers and weeds
and much later
when the two sons
were cleaning out the old
country house
and while packing
all the books
in cardboard boxes
they discovered
more flowers and weeds
between all the pages
of so many
unread books.

Thursday, August 07, 2014

Slowly at First

At first they were small letting goes
the empty space in the garage grew
slowly at first
then closets inside the house
emptied of old fashions
now great finds
in a thrift store
by someone still young
and still collecting
to fill
empty spaces.

Invisible Strings

The invisible strings
from the beginning of time
to each right now
of the living
and all the countless
last breaths
strings vanished
yet the death
of mother and father
did not break
the string
of sons and daughters
that are still connected
to the beginning
of time.

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Purity of Purpose

He was a builder 
of all sorts of things 
but purity of purpose 
was always on his mind 
as he hammered verbs 
and nouns 
while sawing conjunctions 
in half 
building thoughts on paper 
with hands and fingers 
he screwed adjectives 
in place 
so that they would never dream 
of wandering 

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Porch Memories

Sometimes life
changes direction
and you find yourself
trudging against the wind
with but memories
of those sunny days
when the warm breeze
from behind
urged you forward
as if you needed
a notion
of all the things
to come.

Wednesday, July 09, 2014

The Salt of the Earth

We are left
when our wellspring
of words
run dry
yet our imagination
and our eyes
spill over
with tears
that remember
the salt
of the earth.

Wednesday, July 02, 2014

Fixing It

The messiness of life
and our urge to not
leave it be
but to ponder
to attempt to fix
the broken
to make whole

Monday, May 26, 2014

Memorial Day

He sat and watched
with others as some
tried to make do
with what they had
in the large room
the sun shining through
the open windows
on Memorial Day
at the nursing home
a few were brave enough
to speak up and tell their stories
but he remained silent
and wondered if any would know
that a B-25 was a Mitchell
and that he had once flown over
and not much later
over so many tiny islands
that he couldn't remember names
that he'd never known
but the island hopping
as they called the campaign
was always with him
as he remembers
for another day
that it was those down below
fighting on those jungle islands
the ones that survived
those were the ones
that earned the right
to remain silent.

Friday, May 09, 2014

Gathering on the Porch

With nothing to do
some sat in their chairs
others paced the length
of the porch
while the light breeze
cooled the noontime sun
words were few
but thoughts were many
some down to earth
others among the stars
a few were so abstract
that a stick of chalk
was used to describe
the invisible structure
of the universe
on the weathered planks
of the porch
as others came to see
how the sun warps
so that the Earth
moves around it
in circles.

Wednesday, April 09, 2014

The Spring of Autumn

They were young
in love
it was spring
the park bench was warm
as they sat together
in silence
because words were just enough
to bring the moment
to an end
but the moment did end
as they sat together
on the same bench
on another spring day
this day
far beyond the days imagined
so long ago
yet silence was no more
as both listened
to the birds
as they fluttered about
constructing nests
in preparation for another day
when spring
would be
no more.

Friday, March 28, 2014

Either Or

Why must it be
either or
when I feel
both are more
than neither nor
with its sum
of none
which for me
is no fun
yet I know
when the time comes
when gravity takes hold
and no longer can I be bold
that I still wish to stroll
and look
without the thought
of being
looked at

Friday, March 21, 2014

Going Home

He blinked twice
with a memory
of warm white sand
and naked toes
that inspected sea shells
as his brogues
stepped gingerly over snow
he made his way
to the front porch
and he paused
and blinked

Friday, March 14, 2014

The Songbirds

Did he have a choice
to think of things to come
when birds sang
as he pounded nails
into two by fours
that the blueprint
promised to be
a house
that strangers
would someday
call their home
yet would they ever
think of him
who built dreams
from sweat and toil
and the love
of songbirds
as he paused
to listen.

Friday, March 07, 2014

Letters in the Sand

He began etching
flowing thoughts
on damp sand
far enough
with stick in hand
from foamy surf
the words withstand
the strand
when finally
stylus thrust
into the froth
gulls cry aloud
as the sea
begins to shroud
no longer