MISSION STATED

This was a little ditty I wrote rather quickly that I sent out to some TBI websites. Definitely not a poetic masterpiece, it just reinforces a direction I want to move in. Sometimes you got to say things out loud before you listen to yourself. In this case write.

Back strikes the empire
At the risk of raising ire.

Our message is strong, our message is right.
Armed with information we begin to fight.

Down but certainly not out,
Better listen now as we begin to shout.

Our life's not over just a new chapter begun.
Only after all are educated will we be done.

THE BALLAD OF MONROE STREET

This poem was from my blog, POET-AT-LARGE and was about the unnecessary removal of a few trees in downtown Lynn, all for the filming of a HOLLYWOOD movie!

Wednesday, June 4, 2014

THE BALLAD OF MONROE STREET

The silence broken by a chain saw's buzz

Falling down a tree that was.

All in the name of fleeting fame

For hopes of being in the game.

No song for a plant to cry

Just a little more beauty left to die.

It's only the price we pay

When fools pretend to play.

RIME OF THE ANCIENT MAYOR

This poem comes from my BLOG LYNN SCHOOL WATCH. I had a lot of fun soort of immitaating COLERIDGE. Remember what is the sincerest form of flattery?

RIME OF THE ANCIENT MAYOR

Water, water everywhere
and who's to blame you might not think.
Water, water everywhere
and JFK's ship of state may sink.

ISD is now firmly in charge
thanks to CLANCY
in her office from the beginning
they did barge.

But what has she done
to send them away?
Too busy with lawsuits
so here they stay.

So now comes the time
when the price we must pay
for the cost
of come what may,

BATTLE SCARS

This one came from my book LOVE BITES written almost 17 years ago. My reflection now bares the imperfections I have earned.

BATTLE SCARS

My heart is

broken by the

arrows of innocence.

Consequently it

is subject to 

easy penetration.

Any arrow may

pierce my organs.

The wounds may not

be fatal but the flesh

never heals.

EMOTIONAL WEATHER

This one comes from my first book BEHIND THE VEIL. Looking back at what was, only makes you wonder about what might have been. Getting stuck in the past limits the future.

EMOTIONAL WEATHER

Sunny memories past
fill my recollections
of happier times.

The warm rain
that falls from my
eyes now moisten
the hard edges
of my life.

Sometimes
all there is
is rain.

Occasionally a ray of light
will burst through the clouds.

This only makes
the memories more
distant and painful.
The seasons may
change, but the
rain remains.

LOVES CRAP SHOOT

Looking back on this poem, I ask myself  "What was I thinking?". Well I did write my book LOVE BITES, a collection of about 50 poems, in one crazy weekend back in 1994 and it was two wives ago. I  have actually had people tell me this STUPID little poem was their favorite in the book. I guess people identify with thing about the one that never was.

LOVES CRAP SHOOT

Given the
opportunity you
chose to ignore.
Now we will

never know what
you failed to explore.
Given the chance
again, would you

make the same
mistake or would
that be a risk you'd
be willing to take.

BACKTRACKING

This poem comes from my book LOVE BITES written Memorial Day weekend 1994 and after my SECOND divorce. I don't remember exactly but I think I was cautioning about rushing to judgement because history can never be the same twice.



BACKTRACKING

If what you have for
me is love, why do you
cry for someone else
first?

No doubt you have pain
but so do I. Now
I must carry my memories
in a U-Haul that always
travels away from home.

To say you want to
return sounds easy. I
might welcome you with
open arms but my
hands are tied.

My wrists are covered
with rope burns left from
your departure.

ETERNAL DEBT

Everybody has some good to give. LOVE and a life that truly lives is only additive. This is from my first book, BEHIND THE VEIL.


ETERNAL DEBT

I have examined my life
and must question its worth.
Should my lips meet
the bitter taste of hemlock?

The true value of a life
should always be determined by others.
We are necessarily blind to
the importance of ourselves.

Suicide can only be
charged as a theft
for which society
pays the penalty.

HARRY'S WAR

This poem is from my blog, THE HIGHLANDS WATCH. I wrote  to honor the memory of my good friend and fellow HIGHLANDS COALITION board member. who passed  away too soon.

HARRY'S WAR

Mother country had
a son of liberty
who was a child of history
that grew into a man of science

Battles waged against
faceless warriors insured
probable defeat despite hopes
of small victories. Fighting

until the last man standing
could stand no more. Memories
become legacies after
the lessons are learned.

LIFE'S LENS

This was just put in my HEAVEN'S WATCH blog. Every task is important to someone. Life needs you to be a TEAM player.

 

LIFE'S LENS

Only from a distance
can we see
the smallest part,
minute but vital.

Big or little,
the picture does
not change.
Everything matter

VISION QUEST

This is from my bog, THE POET'S WATCH. I am including it hear too because of the story behind it. I first wrote it on a napkin while drinking McDonald's coffee at the mall, Am I going to owe Micky D's royalties?

VISION QUEST

Just a poor, disabled poet
but more than often
I see pretty clearly
the way things truly be.

To what do I owe
this gift? Does it
come from some
well earned advanced degree?

Forget all that, I'll
tell you now. The
price of poverty
has set me free.

INVERSE EGO

I wrote this poem way back for my book, "Love Bites". My wife put it on a coffee mug for this Father's Day. I asked her, "Wow, I actually wrote that!". Love builds.

INVERSE EGO

Love is additive,
not a replacement.
A relationship builds
from its presence

A commonality exists
throughout a plurality.
No matter what
degree there is
no me.

EMOTIONAL CLASSICS

This poem came from my book, LOVE BITES. The same feeling can come from different places.

Emotional Classics

In my youth
my heart bled
white but the
volume was the same.

What I lacked
in experience
I made up for with ignorance.

Older now my
heart bleeds red.
Purity was replaced
by traditions. Pain
is color-blind.

THE MAKING OF GENIUS

Everything seems defined by agreement.

THE MAKING OF GENIUS

It has no bar code
and often hard to
recognize but with
realization comes

liberation. Freedom of
expression transforms
isolation into respect.
Respect easily morphs

into fear through
intimidation. Moving out
of this cycle of self-perpetuation
is the only way to
exerciseacceptance.

BREATHING IN A VACUUM

Written over twenty years ago for my book, "Behind The Veil", I guess I was expressing my frustration at how people never want to look below the surface. Twenty plus years later, things haven't changed,

BREATHING IN A VACUUM

I scream in silence
frustrated by an audience
that only hears
with their eyes.

My heart suffers
from cold, senseless
rejection. Slowly my spirit
sublimes to vapor.

I wonder if
my time has already
been and might
never be again.

Somehow I must
continue my fight
for a promise of
an ultimate reward.

GRAMMAR SCHOOL LESSONS

This poem is from is from my book, Love Bites, in 1994. I guess you learn early that love has to be expressed to be realized.

GRAMMAR SCHOOL LESSONS

Waiting for a love
that never comes.
I remain alone.
mistakes in tense.

One must be active
because the passive
is too weak.

The subject becomes
the object. Emotions
unclear, love must remain
unconjugated,

Lesson's Learned

We have a lot to learn from history, life's history.

Lesson's Learned

Being a parent
is a full time
job and your
best training comes

from your own.
Books can provide
ideas but examples
establish realities.

Silent Sonata

This poem was written 16 years ago for my book "Love Bites". It was all about the emotions of losing a step-daughter in a divorce.

Silent Sonata

Once a father, I loved
to hear my daughter
hate me. At four there
is no difference.

To know she's gone
brings a tear. Stains on
my carpet are all that
is left of her history.

Her disappearance is
no mystery. She is
away with her mother
all safe and sound.

To my sorrow I
am not around. Maybe
today I'll go to the
park and cry. Maybe I'll
just tell the swingsets good-bye.

PRIVATE ARCHITECTURE

Sticking to your core values can leave one in lonely place.

PRIVATE ARCHITECTURE


Sitting alone in
a room without walls,
the ceiling supported by
pillars of difference.

The room allows
in the rain but
forbids the sunlight.

I can see
the world outside but
there are no doors
to allow entrance.

Kindred Reality

 To me poetry serves to bring together people, ideas, and souls in a deep, spiritual way that defies definition. Limitations are practical. difficulties probable, but realities are substantial.


Kindred Reality


Seldom together but
never apart. Souls
united by a poetry
of uninterrupted prayer.

Recognition of a personal
and private communication
with a creator who always
creates a divine communion.

So precious the recognition
of this celestial gift that
the transcendence of
the spiritual remains unadulterated.