How am I supposed to lead my son to wisdom
When I am flawed to my very core
How am I supposed to teach and live in peace
When the world wages war
Who is able to rise above
When this world is broken
Who is the one, who will reach out in love
With love so flowing
Because it isn’t me
I am emptied of everything
It isn’t me and won’t be me
Despite my love for him
We have a green and blue planet
Polluted to be grey
We have a wonderful place to live
That we’ve filled with hate
I want him to be different
Than me or anyone
But how can I teach him
When all I believe comes undone
There is no blame in me
I am not pointing fingers in rage
I am simply asking
Who knows the way
I don’t know the way
No one knows the way
He was born into a generation
Innocent of our crimes
But they were swimming
In the dangerous tides
In another generation’s moral debt
From the wages of our culture wars
And terroristic threats
Building and killing
Taking without giving
How can we lead anyone
When you or he
Can see how we are living
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Doorway of Years
Anorexic of love
Purging of regret
Engender the suffering
And wait for the results
You could die of hunger
In this feast of the dead
Waiting to be rescued
Being lost instead
Tolerate the fools
And doom they will seek
And we will be covered
In crimson red so fresh
The dead will not speak
But their pathways of will
We will see their rush
Into the factories
Of flesh
Where humanity rots
Spirals downward
Crushing the souls
Beneath
Of their last breath
Filled with regret
Faces covered in tears
Their bodies beneath the tide
Of fetid beings
Without spark
Arm and arm enmeshed
We dance into oblivion
And when the end comes
We will enter obsidian
With no voice
But for our own fears
And that we step into the darkness
The doorway of the years
Purging of regret
Engender the suffering
And wait for the results
You could die of hunger
In this feast of the dead
Waiting to be rescued
Being lost instead
Tolerate the fools
And doom they will seek
And we will be covered
In crimson red so fresh
The dead will not speak
But their pathways of will
We will see their rush
Into the factories
Of flesh
Where humanity rots
Spirals downward
Crushing the souls
Beneath
Of their last breath
Filled with regret
Faces covered in tears
Their bodies beneath the tide
Of fetid beings
Without spark
Arm and arm enmeshed
We dance into oblivion
And when the end comes
We will enter obsidian
With no voice
But for our own fears
And that we step into the darkness
The doorway of the years
Saturday, September 12, 2009
FISTS
Pounding my fists into the ground
I am aware of the dreams calling
But I am no longer here
The darkness is a hole into which I crawled
I am imprisoned in fears so clear
Let the rain and lightning fall
Let the thunder rumble and rage
Let the world be deluged
Wash us release us renew us
From the years to be shed
Release us from this earthy cage
What is left but crimson tears
Arms wide spread let our words raise
Up to the angry heavens
We are broken and need hope
For there is none in our arms
Please send for us to embrace
Hope, please send
Pour down the rains
Clean me so that I am pure
To the taste of holy lips
Make me a beautiful scent
An aroma that pleases
Make me an incense candle
Held by your holy hand
I’ve been ripped apart
Take me and place me upon your altar
Lift up my name,
Place it upon your heart deeply
For I worship you
Look down upon me
With mercy?
Thursday, September 10, 2009
LA FIN DE L'AFFAIRE
This is not about my life, this is a metaphor for an event, and the passing consequences that followed. I am not the speaker, I am taking the voice of the speaker, it is fiction.
I met with loneliness
After the affair
When I realized
There was no one out there
And never would be
However it might be unfair
The love in my soul was harvested
Made to be my flaw
Turned against me
Relentlessly
By someone who said they cared
What is my life for
But to share in love
What is my heart to do
If not be true
But there are pigs at the trough
Who take more than their share
Over and over my heart was robbed
Because it was open
And unaware
That people like her existed
That people like her could say
They’d love me forever and leave
Because I could never compare
To those who she could meet
Every place everywhere
But now I see
Despite a thorn in my eye
I cannot see
Through your disguise
I will never be
The one you want
So thrown away
With my life you haunt
My every move betrayed
I met with loneliness
After the affair
When I realized
There was no one out there
And never would be
However it might be unfair
The love in my soul was harvested
Made to be my flaw
Turned against me
Relentlessly
By someone who said they cared
What is my life for
But to share in love
What is my heart to do
If not be true
But there are pigs at the trough
Who take more than their share
Over and over my heart was robbed
Because it was open
And unaware
That people like her existed
That people like her could say
They’d love me forever and leave
Because I could never compare
To those who she could meet
Every place everywhere
But now I see
Despite a thorn in my eye
I cannot see
Through your disguise
I will never be
The one you want
So thrown away
With my life you haunt
My every move betrayed
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Getting published
Numerous times per week I am asked how I got published and how the person writing to me might also get published. So here are four thoughts to help you.
1) Spell check and Grammar check your work. Whatever you do make sure it is perfectly presented, because people who otherwise might like what you do might be unable to overcome the minor issues. By removing minor flaws there is nothing but poem to announce your worth, or, lack there of, as a poet.
2) Go to and join all and every social networking site to share your work. If you are writing in your home or office, and expect people to come and find you, you are going to be highly mistaken. It is the case that however valid your work is, without an audience you will never be able to gauge what you do, or sell your work.
3) Build a critical circle around yourself who will read what you write and give constructive criticism. Don't send your work to me, I have people doing that anyway. But without a group of people who you love and trust who can tell you how good or bad your work is, you can never really filter through the online and hanger on bullcrap that you will hear. If your work is bad, or needs improvement, you need to hear it.
4) Make contacts with other poets and publishers, for the sake of being friends and associates. If you treat others as a stepping stone to publishing you will learn how precarious that becomes and quickly. I recommend looking at every person you meet, and every publisher you contact or are contacted by as a potential friend. Imagine if everybody you meet solely looked at you as a stepping stone. It is a problem I see in people, that in their desire to achieve, they lose sight of the people that allowed them to do so.
I hope this helps.
And for the record, I'd like to thank Mike Grell, Jamie Delano, Timothy Truman, Amy H. Sturgis, Bob Giadrosich, Tarringo T. Vaughan, and Steve Niles. At various times in my development they gave me advice and assistance that allowed me to get where I am.
1) Spell check and Grammar check your work. Whatever you do make sure it is perfectly presented, because people who otherwise might like what you do might be unable to overcome the minor issues. By removing minor flaws there is nothing but poem to announce your worth, or, lack there of, as a poet.
2) Go to and join all and every social networking site to share your work. If you are writing in your home or office, and expect people to come and find you, you are going to be highly mistaken. It is the case that however valid your work is, without an audience you will never be able to gauge what you do, or sell your work.
3) Build a critical circle around yourself who will read what you write and give constructive criticism. Don't send your work to me, I have people doing that anyway. But without a group of people who you love and trust who can tell you how good or bad your work is, you can never really filter through the online and hanger on bullcrap that you will hear. If your work is bad, or needs improvement, you need to hear it.
4) Make contacts with other poets and publishers, for the sake of being friends and associates. If you treat others as a stepping stone to publishing you will learn how precarious that becomes and quickly. I recommend looking at every person you meet, and every publisher you contact or are contacted by as a potential friend. Imagine if everybody you meet solely looked at you as a stepping stone. It is a problem I see in people, that in their desire to achieve, they lose sight of the people that allowed them to do so.
I hope this helps.
And for the record, I'd like to thank Mike Grell, Jamie Delano, Timothy Truman, Amy H. Sturgis, Bob Giadrosich, Tarringo T. Vaughan, and Steve Niles. At various times in my development they gave me advice and assistance that allowed me to get where I am.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
God Only Knows
God only knows what you believe, God only knows
God only knows what you do, God only knows
But you think that you do too
Not matter how you deceive
Your lies again are nothing special
Nothing new to you
Nothing different, so don’t you grieve
It doesn’t matter if its true
You said you believed in her
When it so otherwise the case
You said that you loved her
And you said it to her face
God only knows, God only knows
How can you justify what you do
How can you be without a clue
You have to be the one who lives your life
I’d never tell you to be someone else
But do you realize just what you are
You destroy everything but yourself
You consume everyone else’s mental health
I walk through life wounded and bloody
You get off without a scratch
But I don’t envy you
Or the things you do
God only knows what you do, God only knows
But you think that you do too
Not matter how you deceive
Your lies again are nothing special
Nothing new to you
Nothing different, so don’t you grieve
It doesn’t matter if its true
You said you believed in her
When it so otherwise the case
You said that you loved her
And you said it to her face
God only knows, God only knows
How can you justify what you do
How can you be without a clue
You have to be the one who lives your life
I’d never tell you to be someone else
But do you realize just what you are
You destroy everything but yourself
You consume everyone else’s mental health
I walk through life wounded and bloody
You get off without a scratch
But I don’t envy you
Or the things you do
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