Are you as busy as a bee

Buzzin around the flowers

Ever seeking the honey

In sunshine and showers?

The faces turned toward the sun

Beautiful and joyous to behold

The sweet innocence never undone

As their world in your hand you hold

I do not weep on your shoulder

‘Tis not nice as you grow older.


The pasts are but shadows

That we seek but cannot hold

As clouds of mist and vapor

Thru our fingers they unfold

Scattering in the wilds of memories

Their fleeciness white and pure

Growing ever dimensional

Their proportion becomes obscure

Look not for ghosts

That have long passed this way

What ever had to be

Was not for us to say

Rather the rays of light

That peer over the hill

The source of hopes, of treasures

Our reaching hands to fill. 


Cum de re vo lusin

Un de Pipul is all hot

De sik deeso lu shun

For wat de ave not

De tak it frum de rich

Cause de are de pur

Un de tak evry stich

Un wats mor

Den de are de rich

Den cums de re vo lushun.


To solve a problem one must have his facts in order

His suppositions make propositions creating disorder

Joining each link to the one before makes a lengthy chain

The pieces then in proper order make complete the train.


A tree did grow with two branches tall

The tree was proud its head held high

Thru storms and winds it would not fall

Just swayed back and forth with leafy sigh

The branches grew with strength untold

The blossoms graced their sturdy limbs

The beautiful fruits finally did unfold

The light of life never dims.


The ash is the end of a flame

That once brightly did burn.

The tear is the end of a shower

That made all emotions churn.

The smile is the upturned end of a lip

That may vary with time and tide

But love is endless wherever found

Its essence eternal however tried.



Time is perhaps a day

Maybe a year or an eon

Time stretches every way

Time can be looked upon

As cheap or very dear

Whoever considers the need

Can the cloak of time wear

Regally or as if gone to seed.


Logic and facts rule the world

Flowers and folly add zest

The sleeping giant lied curled

Till his power is put to the test.

Facts make the giant a number

Logic like chains him encumber

Flowers lull him, his senses numb

Folly bewilders, strikes him dumb

Then slowly but surely the spirit recoils

The giant unfettered, the world aboils.



White is pure as begins all things

Black is Stygian as ends all beings

Betwixt the two an unnumbered throng

Hues between are where they belong.

None are pure in this span of time

The level varies without reason or rhyme

As masses move in dark or light

A perfect rainbow comes into sight.


The road to camp was full of bumps

The sun was hot as hades

The car sure did get its lumps

The language spoke befit no ladies.

Away in the woods, nay the primeval forest

Lay the wigwams of Minawhawa

By the shores of Silver Lake Crest

Lived the campers from Ainwha

Away from the hubbub of the city

Away from the modern world

So the poor tired parents could sing a ditty

In the comfort of their sofas curled.


The inlaw is here to stay

Tho he speaks out of the way

Neither insult nor slight

Can stop his right

To voice an everwise say.

He rasps the nerves of those

Who would wish him peaceful repose

For his lack of control 

In your loving household

Is his to do as he chose.

So forbear and indulge a whim

Means nothing to you but him

For his desire to aid

Is always portrayed

In song or perchance a hymn.


Two little bugs met on a tree.

Said one to the other, “You look lovely to me.”

Said the other, “Let’s marry and have a family.”

And so they built a nest for three

But alas and alack twas not to be

The nest itself was a bit too wee.

Bickering and baiting when they didn’t agree

Or ominous silence of great degree.

Then one bug did hurt its knee

Everything was forgiven in one grand spree

Wuz a lotta huggin and kissin

Believe you me.


A blade of grass tall and green

Points like a sword toward the Sun.

As Excalibur from the lake serene

Dares the world and everyone.


A little pearl was tossed high

It fell into a pig’s sty

The pig’s ear was getting worse

Some one tried to make a purse. 

So the pig or not, sober or sot

The pearl its sheen did keep.

A little tot with sharp eyes begot

Did spy it on the heaps.

Picked up the little gem so pure

Did clasp it to her Breast

Admired its opalescent lure

As in her hand it rest.

Then showed it to the wide world

To love and to behold

Its luminous beauty unfurled

Its worth? A fortune untold.


Space is but a void that can be filled 

    with many things

The willingness to do must come from 

    upsewelling springs.

A shallow well is soon drained dry 

And space has not its quota,

Of man’s mind one can but sigh

Does he lead or follow rota.


‘Tis the time to seek the cool

As sweat rolls off the brow

‘Tis the time for a dip in the pool

And wallow like a big old sow.

Lemonade with lots of ice

Ice cream in great big gobs

Slurping all day would be nice

So what if we become fat slobs.

Do you know of nicer ways

To pass these darn hot days? 


I have a little piece of ground

‘Tisn’t much when you look around

But it’s mine to have and hold

It’s mine till my wings fold.

‘Tis mine this little piece of land

With pride tho humble I be

I now belong for all to se.

Other possessions come and go

This land remains just so

‘Till seed is sown in it deep

Then miracles from it will seep.


To seek the  rewards from this plane seems well and good

The many who grasp as if there is no tomorrow

They be ignorant, their eyes in a hood,

They will reap the many straws of sorrow

To hurt, to destroy does not behoove a mortal

His love of fellow man should be the rule of day

Thus one acquires a soul entering the portal

To an Eden, there forever to stay.


I bounced a ball upon the walk

I hopscotched boxes on the same

I marked the hearts with white chalk

I romped and played every game.

I left and later returned

I found no trace of that long ago

I had all my Bridges burned.....

I faintly remembered a lost ego.


The stone age man had a simple life

To fill the larder for his wife.

A mammoth he did slew

Selecting morsels he could chew.

A simple cloak he made for sooth

When he could catch a saber tooth.

A cave he found in a mountain side

Was rent free to there abide.

How did we grow away from that

And end up with a Univac?


The brain is a storehouse

Large as the spaceless heaven

Hoarding all that has passed

Releasing treasures to be 

Projecting ever its funds

Toward an eventual Eden

Despite turmoil and waste

A burning torch, unquenched by any sea.


Tell your story walking

So a nuisance you’ll not be.

People have their own problems

No one is wholly free.

If you have a moment

To reflect on that 

You’ll be more considerate

As the mouse said to the cat.



The circle is a never ending line

Starts nowhere and ends the same.

We all trod that path without a sign

From whence to where is just a game.

No one strays, each must move

To keep ahead of the one behind.

For he who stops gets a shove

Others may not  be so kind.

Some hurry, some do not,

Each a goal seeks to achieve.

Then gone from the line is the lot

Of everyone who does not believe.


The spirit is low

The senses are dull

The Sun doesn’t show

Morbid thoughts we cull.

Could we but find a ray of light

We wouldn’t at all mind 

The dismal sight

That surrounds our sphere.

The wall must give

While we are here

If not, why do we live?


A cake is made to celebrate

To pleasure a day

With loving hands and measured cup

A cake is baked that way.

Then in pieces served to

    those who deserve

It does the palate titillate.


To belong is part of us

To know we’re wanted is the ultimate

So then, why all the fuss?

Just join, it’s never too late.



Feet are feet no matter where

Fat or thin , eyes do stare

Bowed or kneed, ‘tis no concern

Eyes do follow lines to learn

From hem to shoe, lines entice

To each his own what doth suffice.


The Bible is a many place

That each calls his own

As snowflakes drift no two alike

So to each prone

In essence the source is one

And many blooms do follow

The pagaentry is never done

The weed is always hollow.


Long time no see

What sap is to the tree

What nectar is to a bumble bee

What adds flavor to tea

What sings, “Oh, say can you see”

What taste is in a berry

What Tweedle Dum does to Tweedle Dee

All these and many more

These ancient eyes of mine are sore

For want of the sight of your homely face

So I say home is the place 

Where you should go

So get in your boat and row


Habits formed in youth

Are a plan of future life

A guide to follow for sooth

But perchance a two edged knife 

To follow thru up to a point

Till the need is no more

Then time is out of joint

So starts another score.


I had two coins I jingled them

In a pocket that was threadbare

No hat to cover my head

And shoes beyond repair

But the richest thoughts 

Passed through my mind

And clothed me in raiments

The best that one can find.

The future is for those who care

Their riches with others to share.


The philosophers of old pondered on themes

For which we have no answers

The air always full of dreams

A ballet with many dancers

The whirling toes in lilting tune

The poise and graceful swerves

As drifting cloud over the moon

Revealing nothing, but the soul conserves.


The one who offers advice for free

Gives what it’s worth ‘tis plain to see

For who on this earth should judge his brother

The crown cannot be worn by one or any other

Perchance by him the first born.


Greater than the speed of light

Unspoken thoughts can be heard afar

Darkness need not be without sight

For each one there is a star

The bonds that tie are subtle threads

That strengthen with time

No earthly power can beak the bonds

That form the chain that is mine.


Sense and nonsense are closely akin

Sane or insane is a matter of degree

Moral or immoral is a degree of sin

The Lord, the Devil, who sets the value?


A smile can chase a gloom

A whistle can make a tune

A word can sway a mob

A kiss can make a heart throb

A charity can save a life

An Eden negate a strife.


A sour puss is like a lamp

That gloomily lights the dark

‘Tis poor oil or lack of damp

That retards the glowing spark.

Let the laugh ring loud and clear

Let the mood sing with song

Then the air is full of cheer

And among folks there is no wrong.


A picture worth a thousand words

Is a rarity indeed

For who can make that picture

Must be one to lead

The picture may be to one what

It may not be for another

The forest may hide the tree

If one has time to bother

So the leader makes the picture to his form and fashion

The dull herd mills and stirs led into unthinking passion.



To whom it may concern

I am what I did learn

Molded by skillful hands

With care and tenderness to soften

The bruises that are often

Each day to mark a gain

And growing is a strain

As the store of knowledge grows

The flame within glows

Lighting the paths to take

The shadows ever to forsake.


Sound is King of creation

It permeates every atom that surrounds us

Sound has many a machination

It creates and destroys all that abounds us

The whispers that rustle the trees

Casting their seed to foreign countries

The fury of cyclonic storms

Uprooting life in many forms

The unheard sounds that fill the air

For humans to ponder if they dare.


Busy as a bee is only relative

Many make a show when mixing tea

Superfluous as the case of ablative

Motions wasted a clear head can see

Relax and ponder from far off

The essence of time levels the hills

The trodden path will seem less tough

Then you’ll enjoy the King and his Trills.


The evil sprite did dance a tune

To charm the true and pure

It wove a chain of golden ruin

Its victims to lure.


Thoughts that wing thru the air

Minds that meet no matter where

Like souls do keep in touch

Regardless of all obstacles and such

No need the pen or winding road

No need the worry, a burdening load

A wish can reach thru space and time

And two are met, union, truly sublime.


Some people’s thoughts are narrow

As a furrow made with a harrow

Some people’s thoughts are wide 

As the ocean with wave and tide.

The furrow is long and shallow

The ocean is large and fathoms deep

Untold wonders it does keep

Yet each can become the other

As willed by the Earth, the Mother.


Thru my window

The river flows gently along

The weeping willows add to the song

The morning sun picks up the tune

The chirps of fledglings follow soon

And as the day broadens its scope

The buds to flower awake with hope

Too soon does man show his face

The Eden fades: enter the human race.


Each little wave a line of life

Wavering, flowing as fate decrees

The lines intermingling strife

Each vieing in many melees

None ever stand alone or above

The blending,the turmoil seems chaos

The waves eventually enter a cove

In orderly fashion on the beach to repose.


There is music in the air

Ther is happiness everywhere

The Sun gives warmth to the day

The Moon romance all stories say

The Hu Man has problems complex

But must he his little brain vex?

For in ignorance must he comply

To only what brute force can supply

Then music fades, happiness flees

The Sun the Moon no one sees

So he who strives to write a song

And he who ponders far and long

And he who plans and builds a thing

All these make each a king.


A man who treats his servant like a dog

Does gain no respect by his deed

His inner spirit has sunk into a bog

His staff of power is but a reed.

His robes are weighted with lead

He dare not travel without fear

When another comes to take his stead

He is alone in a lonely bier.


The trees now in their glory parade

The road to winter’s door

And folks from you know where

Enjoy the scenic more.

50.* TO A BOY

A stick, a stone, a path thru the wood

A bird, a squirrel, a smell of earth

a stream, a cliff, a cave and some food

A boy, a dog, a real world on earth.


The melodies of spring are in the air

You need but look up and they are there

A cheery sun, a warming wind, a green shoot in a tree

The signs are many as nature goes on a spree

The youth looks forward to pleasures untold

The flowers promise fruit as their petals unfold

So covet the earth with its gifts so nice

For come what may, here is your Paradise.


Catch me a feather blown by the wind

Fetch me a twig that sheltered a bird

Bring me a stone thrown by the sinned

Draw me a circle, say not a word

I’ll give you the answer you wish to find

I’ll show you the path that’s never been climbed.


We went strolling on the beach

The lapping wavelets to us did reach

The varied sea shells on the sands

Proclaimed the histories of foreign lands

The fluttering breezes from the far off shore

Carried scents of forgotten lore

The clouds move in everchanging forms

Portraying the world’s many norms

To see the trees despite the woods

Place little faith in worldly goods.



Two eyes that saw furtively

Two ears that twitched unhearingly

Two hands twisting unceasingly

Two feet that stamped increasingly

Two beings in one mind agonizingly.



The turkey with the turned up toes

Will whet your taste as he knows

On the day that he’s not thanksgiving

In a glorious state of repose

He’ll sate your tongue and your nose

On the day that he’s surely leaving.



What need for flowers

They take up space

When honest vegetables

Could take their place.

What good the rainbow

Across the sky

With no pot of gold

If there we hie.

What good the birds

That sing in the woods

They provide us not 

With worldly goods.

What good the thought of Him on high

Does some one think

He can never die.



An aspect is a view

From a slant to eschew.

A propect it is true

Has hopes, value too. 

A suspect is for you

Of facts old and new.

Any speculation to pursue

Is rife with brains askew.


The night is long and weary

The day is just a nil.

Now that you did it

Do you think it’s still a thrill?


To laugh at each little fault

That plagues us every day

One must mind the muses

And think it’s all in play.

The game of life moves in order of a fashion

And no one can really know, share or ration.


Each is an individual when he matures

For self or others his nature endures.

The fool is fooled, the wise man wiser

To hoard all feelings is the way of a miser

To give unselfishly shows depth untold

To grasp all is futile... for how long to hold?

61.* NYC

The city ‘tis a pity how can one stand the noise

The city not so pretty as the mobs upset your poise

The city...sing a ditty and pennies will fall at your feet

the city...cry a bitty, no one will hear your bleat

The city... like a kitty purrs the whole day thru

the city...this city envelopes you no matter where you go.


The last leaf fluttered off the tree

It bleakly stood for all to see

Scarred and aged with limbs askew

An old battered warrior who was through.



Each of us could a story tell

If we could articulate

Many a gem never can  sell

The onus is not for state

Lost to the world are these tales

That could be wondrous treasure

But who when his pride fails

Can really give full measure?


Two of each  most have

To help us in our travel

And those with less do not crave

To know how things unravel.


The world moves and men do try

To create another motion

It still takes two to vie

Of such is made the potion.


The mind is an empty bank

A piece of paper very blank

Events and years may fill it full

As symbols inscribed after cull

Unlimited space to accept all

The reams mount up very tall

The giving from such deposit

Deletes not the scriptures on it

So giving with a heart and soul

The world is better as a whole.


I walked another path one day

I know not where or why. 

I strolled along just any way

Thru shady bowers, thru fields of hay. 

The wind was cool, the sun did warm

The birds did carol a joyous song,

And every stranger had a charm

‘Twas ever thus as our dream grows strong.


Every morn is bright and gay

Tho clouds may be dark and gray

The beams of light cut through the mist

And chase them far away.

As each little deed is gaily done

Cares disappear one by one

All the’s left is a long, long list

For tomorrow to start off the fun, fun, ƒun.



Going Places

    What to see

        Other faces

            Strange, maybe

Greener perhaps

        Other customs

            Different traps.

Other wisdoms

        Did we learn?    

            The circle closes.

All is astern

        As man proposes.


The flower opens its petals

To spread fragrance in the air.

The spring thru unknown metals

Bubbles up from we know not where.

The clouds gather into fleecy dells

To cast its tears from the sky.

The little babe just looks up and yells

Who’s got my formulae?


Let the spirit be willing

And the flesh be strong

Let the lips be trilling

Then nothing will be wrong.


Zigzag is a way of life

Zag instead of zig is rife.

With unknown angles that lead

To infinity or lack of deed.

The lines cross in many a maze

Entangled a genius could daze.

And yet seemingly no point at all

Ends up in a picturesque scrawl.


Remember the Frog who the whole world would see

Climbed a hill as high as could be

“Why!” cried he,”it looks no different to me.

‘Tis the same as where I always be.”

When Froggy points his nose to the sea

He can only perceive what’s in the lee

His eyes are the fable so don’t blame me.


No need to be alone

If one does wish to choose

The mind is not of stone

It can set the stars loose.

Just a thought, an atom moves

And all around you flows

Things and beings in numerous droves

That fill your space and lighten your woes.


People wander to foreign shores

To unknown futures their fortunes seek.

The past not one deplores

The outlook of times looks bleak.

They who work the mother Earth

Prosper and grow with time

A new nation is then in birth

If not in rhythm, then in rhyme


By now you’ve got the case

Must be very pretty

I can just see your face

Full of smiles, some a little silly.

But you must travel  far and wide

Oer many a hill and dale

Just to see what’s on the other side

Or what they’ve got for sale.

You’ll find that your little corner

No matter where you go

Is just like Jack in the corner

And all else is just so so.



A smile can chase the gloom

A whistle can make a tune

A word can sway a mob

A kiss can make a heart throb.

A tear can break a dam

A bell can toll a knell

But only love can love tell.


A thought a dream a cloud in the sky

Gathering substance as it goes by

Moving to unknown foreign places

Changing ever with many faces

Never born, yet always in view

Sweet and pure as the early dew

Suddenly seized and formulated

A fact, a deed, a triumph created.



From generation to generation

Like climbing the stairs

On parade a long procession

Proclaimimg many wares

The same materials are used

To the younger naturally newer.

The older these have abused

The bond is all the truer

When put thru many tests

That generation can meet generation

When the older sits and rests.


The little tot does learn to crawl

Into all nooks and crannies

Then he learns to walk and fall

A problem? Not his granny’s.

Chubby finger reach and tear

The moveables around him

The stange and dark is not to fear

The good fairies surround him.

He dances with the rays of Sun

To him the world is all for fun.


A little blue devil leered up at me. 

His eyes twinkled with joyous glee.

He chuckled and hummed a familiar tune

He danced odd steps like a crazy loon

He circled around and disappeared fast.

He almost got away, but I wasn’t last.


The rippling brook,the shady glenpeaceful havens when

One needs to soothe a troubled spirit.

The dewy grass,the blue skies comfort the soul.

The music of the gentle breezes

The chatter of the birds 

Succor the distraught.


A tree from its very first day

Bends with the winds in every way

And grows in the direction

Of the wind’s most deflection

The twisting of the bough

The knurling of the trunk

Distract us from the query of how

Deep the roots are sunk.


A gun, a knife, a blade of grass

Can thru hardened substances pass.

Tho strong or weak one may be

All things equalize as you’ll see.

Pretty or ugly as nature decries

Opposites attract with no surprise

The witty, the dumb are all of use

The world has meanings not obtuse.

85.THE CUP  

The cup is rounded to fit the lip

Coffee, tea or nectar to sip

The cup may be thick or thin

The cup depicts the man within

Shaped and fitted to its abode

A cup to suit each one’s mode

Earthy or priceless tho it be

‘Tis used to sip nectar, coffee ar tea.


The grass grows greener in the other field

The fruit trees there more fruit yield

Myopic is the eye that sees

But because the forest hides the trees

In a strange perspective another world

A vista with royal carpet unfurled

Strives unhappily to cross the span

‘Tis given to neither beast nor man

To retrace the days of yore

But beautiful dreams can give the future more.


To give is the first rule of life

For one to take there must be a donor

Knowing or otherwise in peace or strife

So giving, one attains the highest honor.


Animals in human form

Roam the world at large

Seeking their prey no matter what

For filth to them is courage.

Jackals and hyenas are saints beside these kind

The lower forms of necessity have instincts for a mind

The thinking horrors of human race

Have this plus the devil’s embrace

To conceive and destroy with unseeming mirth

And so create a hell upon this earth.


Little on must You look so sad

Little one just gurgle and coo

Your tummy’s full your diapers too

But that’s the popular fad.


The things we might write

Would surely sound quite trite

Offbeat sounds I make

When you come, I bake a cake.

A smile does curl your lip

As you do read this quip.

That my dear is the point. 

As humor is never out of joint

A work to the wise...that’s silly

If we were wise...that’s a dilly

A good laugh is the better lead

Tha’s how friendships grow indeed.


The seasons change and so do we

As morning, noon and night. 

The first breath of air is for free

In morning, noon and night.

The time rolls on as waves at sea

Come morning , noon and night

And from the start and end will be 

At morning, noon and night.


The past travels very fast

The future looks so slow

Infinite time does not last

To reap what you may grow

To look back where you were

Could put bumps on your head

So turn you nose toward where

You should be going instead.


The D.D.S. he wan smart fella

He got all kinda tools

He wanna see if you yella

He just take de family jewels.


The elders are held in esteem

Not for age but wisdom too

To belittle is venting spleen

Which some, one day, may rue.

Respect must be earned

From loved ones that’s sure

With immaturity we’re concerned

Bad manners becomes a boor

A soft spoken word, a withheld retort

A tender pat, a becoming smile

These and more make good rapport

And goodness is always in style.


The Golden Age is a figment of youthful imagination

Old is one who keeps looking back; that is stagnation.

Each is eternally young who seeks the rainbows treasured

For that path to glory leads and fulfillment of all earthly pleasure.


The D.D.S. is a busy mon

He care for peepul all the day

De toot he ache like son uv a gun

The D.D.S. he know what to say.

So soft de chair so nice de drill

He fill de hole very quick

He even give you de thrill

He no make you very sick

So be nice peepul and see him now

He be kind mon wit your smile

He fix your face so you eat your chow

Your face he will be wide a mile.


Last night I missed the bus

There’s quite a while to wait

So I dropped in to have a beer with Gus

You never need a date.

The bar was lined with men and dames

The air was fogged with smoke

The talk was of fighting fames

You see the T.V. was broke.

Then up stood a caricature

Who seemed old and gray

Seedy clothes, shoes with manure

He had something to say,

“You ride the wheel of fortune

You ride over friend and foe,

When you get your opportunity

It’s really time to go”.


Thru our eyes we see the world

The outer facade a barrier strong

A wall beneath which we lie curled

A haven, maybe, but for how long?

The darts that are flung may glance

Or pierce our armor strong

The gaps they make may perchance

Destroy a soul that did belong.


I remember a little hole in the wall

That seemed so dreary and drab

How the little sun ray thru it did fall

And I for its beams did grab.

No matter the place or the contents thereof

The spirit rules it all

It can glorify each as the one above

Who watches both big and small.


To be alone is a state of mind

That is void or full as you desire

‘Tis anything you wish to find

Of worldly pleasures or a bog of mire

Each alone is the judge supreme

To choose his world to live in

Tho his choice may be extreme

In state of mind he can always win.


Now let the world beware

A new driver has joined the race

Now let the world have care

The driver will be every place

Will the roads be safe?

Will the people tremble in fear?

Like fesh coffee in a carafe

Good ‘till you’re hit in the rear!



To do the things you want to do

No matter what your age

‘Tis you alone can think it thru

No one can be a sage.

For life is but a moment now

Who dare say otherwise

For only you can know how

Tho delayed, a worthy prize.


To play a game for what it’s worth

Is the way of a serious mind.

Ideas jell and give birth

To a futurama of many a kind

Just play, has its place

In the routine of daily life

But a dream without a face

Is like a kitchen without a wife

Each game has its point

In wit or skill or art

But if you’re out of joint

With your shirt you shall part.


Man in a hurry going nowhere

Like a squirrel treading on air

As all paths lead to infinity

Men in a hurry eyes widely askew

Raving and ranting at anything new

As all paths lead to obscurity

Men in a hurry the limbs have ceased to move

Still glaring at the stars above

As all paths lead to a trinity.


I taut I saw a puddy cat

Sleepin on the sofa

I sed G’wan scat you lazy lofa

The puddy cat opened one eye

And looked at me with scorn

Go away you human spy

Or you’d wish you never were born.

I seized a club to beat off its head

I was so filled with rage

Now I said you’ll soon be ded...

When will I come of age.



If you try to look for a reason

In words that are out of season

You’ll find many with fallacies

That stem from thought in fantasies

To dig beneath the cloudy scenes

‘Tis labor lost as are the genes

In the transmutations that go on

‘Tis happier to ignore the pro and con.


A word spoken is a dart

That moves with speed of light.

The target is a chart

Of emotions out of sight.

A guided word may hit the mark

Where it was intended

An idle word in the dark

May make one offended. 

Words may make or words may break

A soul kind and gentle.

So, some words please forsake

And keep tham safely mental.


Patience is a virtue

That grows as age unfolds

The young it is true

Minds neither advice nor scolds

A bruised tie or bloody nose

Soon causes a second thought

To ponder whether the Rose

Smells sweetly or pricks ought.


After Louis Died

When the going gets tough

And things seem awry

Have I had enough

Should I break and cry

No...I throw back my head

And yell loud and long

Enough to wake the dead

And tell everyone I belong

The human race, a strange tribe indeed

Would do well were they all treed.


A forked tongue speaketh twice

Once for good, once for vice

To heed one without the other

May bespeak the devil without the brother

To wonder the why of many a way

Gaze carefully before you say.


After Jack’s Father Died

The movies are an awful bore

We sit too long and our backs get sore

To visit friends is a waste of time

There are no elevators just stairs to climb

So we walk and mope

Look in store windows as any other dope

Our feet are tired, our shoulders droop.

A glass of milk, a piece of bread

Then flop in bed like we were dead.


The merry-go-round with its happy tune

Carries the young to far off lands

The ferris wheel is a trip to the moon

The chutes, for dear life, freeze hands

The rolling barrow vetoes gravity

The tunnel of love has its harrows

The house of fun with its levities

Ends a day that has more tomorrows.


I think of Aesop’s tale of the fozen snake

A fable ‘tis true And truth does make

A word spoken with little thought

Is a barbed arrow that hurts to the quick

And much pain is wrought

Because of a mind that is sick

The books of lore can fill the mind

The seers can only tell

Compassion can be had for the blind

For igoramuses only Hell.


The knowhow of things is given to a few

They need not learn as many must

They know the answers they give are true

The others struggle in the dust.


A story is told of things that were done

Time is sand already run.


So I leave this dreary sphere

And wander into the Blue.away from the noises here

To the rainbow of many a hue

To peace and content you’ll hie

To a garden of full bloom

There someone you’ll espy

And forever dispell your gloom.


On this page myself I’ll bemuse

Thinking of the wiles on boys you’ll use

The smile, the nod, the tilt of nose

Curl in hair, twinkle in toes

Under the stars only Heaven knows.


Fifteen Stars in the heavens doth shine

Thank the God that you are mine

As time goes on you’ll be much dearer

Then I’ll be able to see the stars much clearer.



The bitter the sweet into one blend

‘Tis such we meet on our winding path

No matter where we wend

‘Tis bitter ‘tis sweet that each one hath.


The arguments that one has live after them

The good is oft interred beneath the blows

The heat and flame leave ash and adfinitum

The cool winds doth wipe the sweat from brows

So let the furies go their unwended ways

And so doth it end in all such plays.


The eyes do blink with a starry light

The smile curls from a cupid bow

Delicate fingers on a fist clenched tight

Tiny feet that kick a row.

Such a one is Bruce Lawrence

Pity his folks with his 2 A.M. cadence.


The pen is full of ink

The paper white and bare

Thoughts are hard to think

Troubles hard to share

To give of joys is a goal

Of many a humble man

To be present  at the birth of a foal

To see the things of nature’s plan

To share with all is paradise

A state that may never be

Yet to try would be nice

As the land did come from the sea.


You cannot pick your relations

But friends you can try to find

The history of relatives are revelations

But friends may fool you blind

Kinsmen may have strong ties

Despite their ornery ways

Friends are truths or lies

Like water in odd shaped trays.


So travel the wide wide world

See nature in the test

In the beauty parlor your hair is curled

To make you look your best

Pygmies and Cannibals would look at you with glee

For in thir eyes they see you 

As nothing but a pot of tea.

The Arab and the Turk their noses up would turn

At what you try to look like

To them you make their stomaches churn

And away from them you’d hike

The Eskimo would snicker and laugh out loud

The Chinee would bicker and look at a cloud

The Indian would dance with tommyhawk high

Take your curly locks while you go by bye

As silly as I write

The sense is just the same

So you wanna fight

I told you it’s only a game.



I have a little dream that I hold very dear

For once things do seem happy and full of cheer

Alone with no care or woe I swing the sickle wide

And deeply dig the hoe into a rocky mountain side

With muscles sore, spirits gay, the dream grows more and more

Then realization is but play to achieve a visage you bravely bore.



A dog and his master and mistress too

Follow a pattern that is generally true

Each bark or yap in a similar key

Each facially resemble as kin might be

And mentally suited both unite

On the ends of a leash loose or tight.



A ruler is a wonder toolbe a judge or be a fool

Can right things wrong

Or wrong things right

Can make you belong

Or put you from sight

That depends on who uses the measure

Or whom you may have caused displeasure

So the one who makes the scepter sway

Can make you dance the tune his way

So ‘ware the one who wishes to rule

For the one who obeys may be the mule.



Foolish Money

Spend a little

For foolish things

Each day

Strict economies 

Are not for the 

Young and gay.

So carry thru for 

A little while

Till you fall in

Line as is the style.


Pretty soon the wheels will turn

And the sleeping giant will wake

His empty stomch will soon churn

While his breakfast he will make

For bookbinders will be his toast

And reams of paper his meat

And the liquid oratory of his host

He will drink down very neat.

And as the diet becomes routine

His muscles will bulge and flex

The wheat from the chaff will he glean

And up will go his index.

Tho the world be the oyster

And a pearl there may be

Can the giant be happier 

If he loses his dignity?


Time stands still

As all of us do

Our pictures move only in review

The future we cannot foretell

We can only look back to the single cell

As Wodin in the heavens above

We cast our bolts

At those we love.


They’re not babes ‘tis quite true

But still there are thirty two

Angels and brats mixed together

And some that should have a tether

The voice dims and is pretty hoarse

At the end of a lengthy discourse

So it seems the day never ends

Till the Sun with evening blends

Then homeward with feet so sore

Still undone the many chore

The nerves jangled at a mere whisper

He who suffers will be the mister

So with soft and soothing charm

He’ll see you have no cause to alarm

So now that you are on your way

You’ll feel much better on pay day.


The dream is father to the thought

That one has in his span of life

To do the things that he ought

Despite this turmoil and dull strife

So said, the act is done by him

To whom a fate does give a foil

The value high the cost will dim

The end is what is worth the toil.


You asked me for a poem my dear

What’ll be is not quite clear

Litle talk and lotsa ponder

Hazy thoughts then I wonder

Can I muddle you with dazzle

Or rasp your nerves to a frazzle

With all this fum diddle

Yet you do like a riddle

So tell me you brainy one

What makes you English slow on pun?


Down the drain goes many things

Both good and bad we know

But why the both must go that way

It should not be so

To separate the chaff and wheat

Takes labor of great degree

‘Tis worth the effort to save a soul

As the shell becomes empty.


Chipper is a parakeet

A blue feathered little clown

His chirp is not too sweet

He’s really full of sound

He’s free to roam 

When I’m at home

He flies thru every room

He cares not where he lands

So mother needs the broom

And any place where he stands 

He’s king of all he sees

I made an error, please forgive

I forgot the birds and bees

For he’s a she and that’s no jive

(I almost didn’t come out of that alive.)



A kindly word whenever spoke

Is balm to a soul hurt sore

‘Tis kindness, when a word is broke

And may faith again restore.


The busy Ant he runs around

His house in order to keep

His never ending tasks are sound

He never seems to sleep.

Nothing daunts him in his work

He has no fear of foe, 

Tho they be many and ever lurk

To cause him many woe.

This litle creature is the first

Of nature’s noblemen

His life tho short is not the worst

His feats are told by pen.

Tho we be of greater mind

And strive toward greater goals

When we watch them we find

They exceed us even in holes.


To begin the long journey 

One must prepare

His worldly goods 

Without despair

In orderly fashion

To arrange

So kith nor kin will estrange

‘Tis then the eyes will gently close

Soul at peace in quiet repose.


Things travel into the unknown

Slow or fast with ebb and flow

On the way seeds are sown

Toward what purpose I do not know.

They sprout and grow toward the sun

In every size and shape

Yet each is like every one

Tho covered with a different cape.

The tide comes in and then recedes

The shore is filled with shells

Of those who were famed of many deeds

And those who tolled the bells

So give a thought while ye may

To what we do with now

To flutter and just play

Or make a purse from a sow.


The way of a child is not to think

Of what the next moment be

A push a shove a laugh a cry

No more order than a wave at sea

To seize or grasp each floating staw

A treasure perhaps for free

No rhyme or reason for joy itself

Just fruit to ripen on a tree.


“R” is growing fast these days

And prettier all the time

Learning the devious ways

To bamboozle boys is a crime

But that’s the natural way

To make the world go round

As long as rouge and lipstick stay

Progress will be found

So pity the poor simple male

He has no choice to make

As long as he is hearty and hale

The girls will heem take.


The hen is the fruit of the egg

Or the egg the fruit of the hen

Some one must be pulling my leg

And all with the stroke of a pen.


I sit and rock and travel far

To strange lands without a jar

I move with infinite speed

And yet do not stir off my steed.


Sold is time and need

For a mere pittance indeed

Each hour of untold worth does race

Into eternity which all must face.

To know the value one must stop 

His wandering, footsteps on the lea

Then, deciding, let all else drop

That is the price of thee to me.


Wheels ever turning moving along

Carrying a burden, humming a song. 

Wheels aturning standing still

Dreaming fantasy, moving nil

Wheels and wheels compromise a span

Standing or moving as one can.


We all do try to realise

A whim or wish of long desire

The spirit does within us rise

To fulfil the deed to which we aspire

The obstacles fall thick and fast

Encouragement the least of all

The spirit strong can all outlast

To have your faith despite each fall.


The years roll by like wings of thought

Have I accomplished what I ought

Looking back is second sight

What was wrong what was right

It’s done it’s gone with no recourse

Many a joy, some with remorse

The flower grows, the seeds do scatter

The earth replenishes with like matter.


To wake each morning

Is a new found wonder

No fear the dark

Tho streaked with thunder

As light shows the pleaures untold

Accept the rewards as they unfold



Today, the day the little man grows

To the stature of a giant

A little lever he turns down

Makes his world pliant

As each little man does the same

Destiny is made

For lowly forces can

Create a world in a new facade.  Nov.3


Give a devil a finger

The arm must follow thru

Give a pagan a good word

Then knowledge must eschew.

Give a dog a nod

The master is obeyed

Give a cat a scat

All fabric becomes frayed

Give a boy a smile

The Sun lights up at once 

Give a girl a curl

Woe betide the dunce.


No one wants to be alone 

Tho some do contradict

Perhaps they want to atone

A thought, a deed or a deficit

So to deny truths and lies

They build a solid wall

Of Babylonia to the skies

Knowing it must fall.


The merry-go-round is a ride of joy

It’s  music a haunting tune

That you’ll always remember as a boy

Tho the ride is over so very soon

As you circle around in fantasy

Riding your steed to distant lands

To capture the golden ring with glee

For a moment to live with no earthly bands.


Clouds pass by in many a form

To play a game with those who see

The many fantasies out of norm

The new worlds that can never be.

There to play in serene delight

And taste full measure of glorious scenes

That artists strive with main and might

That only He can give to human beings.


The cup is dry

So fill it up

No need to sigh

We soon will sup

And then again

The cup will fill

With nectar sweet

Aflowing still

A glorious treat

The gods would fain.


My mind is blank as I try to think

Of ways to make this world anew

The words of seers I try to drink

To fill the void in this mind askew.

It is like a bottomless pit

That eternities cannot fill

I never stop seeking a way to wit

For that is life then all is still.


Of sticks and stones is made the nest

Of bits of down and endless toil

The mother bird has done her best

And carried forth as seed from soil

A fledgling new that soon would go

To places far and wide

And there again to seek and grow

As nature always will decide.


Light a match

And it will glow

Thru shadows that

Hide a passing show

Light two matches 

And they will shine 

The forms are clearer

Yours and mine.


Each part of day is a medley

To which we dance in harmony

As puppets do on many a string

Our ears are tuned to the many a note

But the feet may move as if in rote

As puppets do, their limbs do fling

And when the tune does end

Silence upon each does descend

As puppets do with each curtain ring.


Things to do are paramount

In regular state of order

To complete a task is tantamount

An end to all disorder

The seed will grow with tender care

The tower will rise to the height

The steps grow into a stair

That reaches thru Pandora’s sight.



I look at these writings

Yet my mind is a blank

Every thought I’ve ever had

Was like a deposit in a bank.

When my emotions are aroused

I make a withdrawal slip

And write and write be it

A philosophy or a banal quip.

This bank of mine is one of a kind

No matter how much is put away

Withdrawals never seem to lessen

The deposits which are there to stay.


To live our lives for all it’s worth

To be everlastingly immortal

We must think of others on this earth

Who also pass thru the portal

To give of ourselves with no restraint

To please all those we love

‘Tis then we wear the halo of saint

For then are we worthy to Him above.

162.Voodoo Story

A little word, a little pin

Are alike in kind

Both are sharp when stuck in

The tender part of hind.

The keen edged word

The sharpened pin

Can turn the world askew

He that would commit this sin

His friends are very few.


The eye of a fly can see everywhere

The feet of a fly can climb anywhere

The wings of a fly can float on air

The life of a fly ends in flypaper despair.



An atom of dust stirred one day

And moved slowly, unsteadily away

Into infinite space without  end

The shapeless speck did forward wend

The forces of light and air

The shifting masses always there

Did shape and mold a formless thing 

Into a graceful, beautiful human being.


Given a thought, a philosophy can mold

Given a word, a story can be told

Given a reed, a structure can unfold

Given a tear, a sea can be trolled

Given a laugh, a universe can be sold.


A little work

A little play

Makes life perk

As sun is to hay

Mellow your thoughts

Seek your friends

There’ll be no naughts

In scoring tends

In the joy of living

The pinacle is attained

By simply giving 

As you were ordained.


When the tide runs out the mud is thick 

    and the clams play hide and seek

Put on your boots and get a pail 

    specially one that doesn’t leak.

Turn over a rock they’ll spit at you 

    as they try to run away

But you know by now that with the foot of a clam 

    you cannot amscray

So dig deep for that juicy morsel 

    that will soon be a bowl of chowder.

Then in our dreams that little clam 

    will chase and make you holler louder.


No matter how the path does wend

No matter how the wind does blow

No matter how the thorns do rend

No matter how the tears do show

It matters when you reach your goal

Are you grown or still a foal?



To many a man comes a thought

To do the things  he ought

The loss or fear of hard endeavor

May stop or delay or maybe never

The rainbow fades to its last gleam

And so is lost a golden dream.


Given a thought a man can rise

To heights unknown, who can surmise

Given a tool a man can realize

Many objects unknown, himself surprise

Given a power a man can subsidize

A universe no matter the size.


Grow a little every day

Dig the roots down deep

Stretch the limbs every way

Let the leaves upon them creep

The buds flower full bloom

Into a crown of glory

Then to seed and soon

There begins a new story.


To Be

Are we what we think we are

As we live each day

Or do we  act a part

That others have us say

Do we build the things

We wish the most

Or bow and scrape

And serve our host

Have we really lived

As humans ought

Or are we netted 

By what others thought.



A hero in his own eyes

Believes the truth in

His own lies

Sees not the path

His footsteps wend

Sees not the souls

His feet  do rend

His head held high

His thoughts away

Today his world

Tomorrow clay.

174.THE PEARL **

The Pearl is a beautiful gem

‘Tis the teardrop of the sea

‘Tis the gracious who should wear them

They enhance their beauty.

The Pearl is born like a living soul

Nurtured and tenderly carried

Then from darkness to light to play its role

Its magnificent glow unharried

Befitting young or old alike

The poor, the rich, its charm ever seek

And when the sun its velvet sheen does strike

Royalty touches the wearers cheek.


The cat and the mouse do play a game

Their purpose to wit is not the same

The one pursues with appetite

The other to escape with all his might

Thus throughout this span of life 

Pursued or pursuing is ever rife

And the sport does end as all games must

The pursued, the pursuing returning to dust.

176.*Another Chance

Could I but have another chance

To have a day returned

To take a different path perchance

To use the knowledge I’ve learned

I know, ( in truth) that cannot be            

Only fools could hope for such

The lesson is as you can see

For other days it means much.(Use this day, it means so much)AL


Just sitting and waiting

Is what many seem to do

What purpose without creating

As each day starts anew

Staring into space

What thoughts are contemplated

No movement or expression of face

As tree is deeply rooted

Yet the busy bee or drone

Fulfil their destiny

Who is to sit on the throne

And pass judgment on thee and me?


A silly bird stood on the sill

To fly away it had no will

The puddy cat spied it there

And slowly crept to where

It sprang in one fell swoop

A few feathers were left for the scoop.


Must people be mean and mnasty

That problem is always around

The headshrinker tries to be

A judge of who’s unsound.

Too many have hidden fears

And vent their spleen on all

They always close their ears

To miseries they make abound

They dare not face themselves

Much less see what the mirror tells

They are as miserable elves

That hide beneath their shells

Should they face the light of truth

They might shrivel and die

But just like a hurting tooth

One yank and the pain is bye.


Human nature, a many sided thing

Caters to whims and fancies

From rhinestone to diamond ring

The paths thru the lines of life cross ever again

The traveler ponders the maze and then

May follow or destroy the pattern

May perfect one’s self or remain a slattern.


The one who offers advice for free

Gives what it’s worth

‘Tis plain to see

For who on this earth should

Judge his brother

The crown cannot be worn 

By one or any other.


Noah’s Ark was bult for two

Of every living one on earth

When the rains began anew

They occupied their berth

What they ate we’ll never know

Forty days and forty nights did they abide

How they passed the time and tide

No rumor did ever pass

Who was first over the side

Possibly some fair lad and lass. 


A Book

To read a book

One has to look

At thoughts

one by one

To write a book

One has to look

For ideas one by one

To find a book

One has to look

At people one by one.


Words are words

Swords are swords

The edges are sharp

They can cut deep

When used in anger

In blood they steep

So sheath the blade

And soften the word

Friends you’ll make

And your praises will be heard

For he who is loved

Has much wealth

The rewards of others 

Are gained by stealth.


Can you run can you jump

Can you see the sun

You’re lucky as can be

Those who cannot run or jump

They are objects of pity.

To grouch or growl at life’s lot

May be the style of the day

So be sure to consider what you’ve got

Before you too get that way.


The make believe world where only children can live

The happiest place, a true paradise

All this a parent should give

Noting less will suffice.

The cares the woe in a benighted world

Are more than mortal man whould bear

So treasure the days for you unfurled

In make believe land it will always be there.


Fate wears many faces

Some sad, some gay

Fate hides in many places

Where, no one can say

Let not the fates mislead you

Their paths wander in a maze

The glitter of charms may entice you

And put you in a daze

A simple thought, a pleasant one

Like a breeze from the ocean wafted

Fills the soul with a wealth of fun

With rewards real not grafted.


To build a house that will weather the storm

To build a character that will stand the test

The guiding hand must handle the form

With gentle earnestness, patience and zest

The artist works with the materials at hand

He shapes and molds with all his skill

The resultant figure then does stand

Before the world its niche to fill.


I Do?

I do what I want

I really do

No rules for me 

Customs are taboo

I’m free in spirit

I’m free in mind

I love all who see 

I love the blind

As a drop of water turned to ice

I’ll split human hatreds

Wouldn’t that be nice?


In the evening when the sky is clear

The multitude of stars seem very near

Gazing into the far off spaces

How small we are in our places

The other worlds with their mystery

Intrigue the mind for what they might be. 

In wonderment and in awe

Our minds cannot emcompass what we saw

But humans will always try

To know the unknown where ever it lie.


There is a little one that has yet to be

A short space in time and then no mystery

It should fill a void with moments of pleasure

It shall have hopes, anticipations to treasure

Of substance and form that make us mortal

Welcome little stranger, welcome to our portal.


Coney Island 

I like to ride on the merry-go-round

With gaily decked horses

Hopping up and down

The brass ring offering a reward

Of a free ride around the sward

The roller coaster with its dips and curves

Swishes around with many swerves

The house of fun gives a final touch

If you ain’t been there

You ain’t seen much.


The ball bounces from side to side

The players in graceful motion

With speed and cunning so they strive

To gain an advantageous position

The best player may not always win

For Lady Luck has a lot to say

Especially where the ice is thin

Or things get in the way.

Who plays with conscience clear

The game for all it’s worth

Will achieve the heights so dear

Even from way down on earth.


Have you ever taken a stroll thru the wood

And watched the green things grow?

How the Jack in the Pulpit regally stood

Preaching what you should know

The lichen on the north side of the tree

Nature’s compass to those misled

Sending them once again free

Back to their home and bed.

The stately firs in armour green

Guardians of the primeval forest

The many things that can be seen

If you have the soul of an artist.


Show us where the spiders crawl

Where mosquitoes hide at night

How  ants upon your bunk and wall

Don’t give you any respite

How the gnats do bite

And the bats are a fright

I could name you many more

To you t’would be a bore.


A change when new is glamorous

Shiny and bright like a new copper cent

As each new change becomes less amorous

The penny dulls and is soon spent

To buy a bit of sweet to soothe the maw

Or a piece of gum to ache the jaw

Never let the eye grow dull

As it surveys the land

For there is a grain in each little hull

That will richly reward you if you understand.


A word can pierce like a pointed sword

A deed can destroy or build a world

A faith can be a guiding light toward

An understanding of souls unfurled

Each one is a book with pages still uncut

A story told from day to day

The mirror reflects our image but

The reflection is what others say.


Dedication to a cause shows a determined mind

To lose sight of life one must be blind

Not to see the forest if the tree hide the view

That mind needs a rest to loosen a nut or two.


Some are born to lead

Some are born to serve

Yet each must have a need

Their entity to preserve

Those that show the way

To those who must follow

Are the beacons of the day

Their tenets should not be hollow

To be a leader big or small

One must accept a fact

That to walk first one must crawl

And nerve never to lack.


We enter with no worldly goods

As pure as drifted snow

The future clean as a wind thru the woods

Seeking a haven to go

A hovel with a crust of bread

A palace of marble halls

To each some are led

As the dice of fate falls.



I could be terrific

I am so prolific

I should be more specific

When I write poetry

I would be catastrophic

If I chose a topic

Were I not myopic

Om my choice of words to thee

Since the world is atomic

It sure is ironic

That there is no tonic

To make thee write to me.


I like to wander among the stars

Touching each brilliant as I go by

Each facet glowing in bars

Rainbow streamers over the sky

Symphonies of color around me

The masters could do no more

Lending the wearer regality

And scepters by the score.


M went away on a three day spree

To a place full of jump and jive

The kids danced all night shouting with glee

There were no chaperones, the place was alive

No sleep for the adults, they sure were pooped

The kids raised the roof and put it on skids

In the morning the grownups were weary and drooped

The kids were still jumping like katydids. 


Another few days and the shadows will be gone

The memories some good some bad will linger a while

The unpleasant people you met will

Stay miserable and alone

Their hypocrisies and smallness should only make you smile

These sorts you will meet in all walks of life

You’ll recognize them wherever they’ll be

Your shield will ward of the edge of their knife

And good things of this world will be for thee.



Man proposes, God disposes

The plans of men go astray

Man proposes, Woman disposes

When she doth make her play

Man proposes, Worm disposes

All that’s left, water and clay.


A ruler measures a space

From here to thar

It may be a length of lace

Or from Earth to a Star

It may be a human emotion

That grows and shrinks away

It may plumb the ocean

Depths no one can say

It may find character wanting

Or rich in many an aspect

It may cover ghosts hauntng

Or dispell shadows they annex

But the rule of space or time or woe

Is justly governed from above

So to wield the sceptre we must show

For each a bit of love.



Cry not little one

The day has just begun.

For some the day has ended

Their path to eternity wended.

The here, the now to enjoy

Dreaming, building, one’s employ

Sorrow a passing moment

Then live, for life is content.


Faces are but masks that hide

The ones behind them

The naked soul in its cave abides

Fearful of the open forum.

When in competition or 

Under stress and strain

The Face in ugly disortion

Reveals agony and pain

The Masks that never altered

The Souls that never emerge

To them the world is faulted

To them is sung a dirge.


So again we leave the nest

To try our wings afar

We never know what’s best

Till we land on yonder bar.

Is the sand soft and clean

Does the coral cut and maul

Are the trees calm and serene

Do the clouds hide a squall?

The wings grow large and strong

The mind does sharpen well

So does the world move along

As rolling waves in gentle swell.



Take a little give a little

That’s a fair exchange

Take a lot give a little

Could look very strange

Take a little give a lot

That proves generous heart

Take nothing give nothing

You can’t finish if you didn’t start


People’s eyes are watching

If your conscience tells you so 

The back of your mind is crawling

With things you’d like to know

When things are done that should be

And placed in orderly array

Your conscience thanks you kindly

And wishes you the best of the day

The watching eyes will relax

And gently go to slumber

‘Tis well to know all the facts

‘Tis chance of lot less blunder.


I looked at you and the world stood still

One look at you and I knew the thrill

Of reaching the end of the rainbow

I looked at you and my heart stood still

One look at you my soul did fill

With emothions of endless hue

I looked at you and you stood still

One look at you and an icy chill

Ended my dream for you were blue.


The Face, a mask behind which we hide

Some we like, others we cannot abide

A Poker face, death mask, no more

The Gargoyle, horrendous thoughts in store

The Fool apparently so, may not be true

The Jester, laughing tho tears show thru

The Adonis, handsome, tho shallow it may be

The Beauty, gorgeous, catering to flattery

The Crag, beetlebrow, pondering moodily

The Brain, thoughtful, gazing knowingly.


One thing may mean many things

To many different people, i.e.

A loud noise, a thunderclap

The end of the earth has come

A loud noise, a burst of applause

The best reward for some

A loud noise, an accolade

Bringing glory to a few

A loud noise, an earthquake

Causing misery to accrue

A loud noise, an eruption

Molten lava flows anew

A loud noise, a hurricane

May the sailor beware the day

A loud noise, just silence

As we all end that way.


The waves roll on in steady parade

As soldiers marching to war

Their roll and thunder is a constant charade

Of human in search of lore

So we seek as we go on

Thru turmoil and strife

Some succeed where others have gone

But all must share a bit of life.



I started to make a little toy

I stopped when it was half done

I’ll never know now the joy

Of satisfaction

That is won

When things are completed.

I planted a seed in mother earth

I watched it as it grew

To a beautiful bloom it gave birth

That is when I knew

I’d never again be cheated.


I put my nose into a flower

To smell of its perfume

I was suddenly shocked with a mighty power.

 My nose became full bloom

My hands flew out like kites

My feet caved in under me

My eyes saw stars and lights

I was stung by a bumble bee.


The apples of Eden that make men go astray

The apples of Wodin that kept the gods at play

The apple of Snow White that put her to sleep

The apple of your eye forever to keep

The apple of Adam thru which life can stay

The apple of Medicine that makes evil go away

The apple for the teacher to polish up a grade

The appleknocker, surely, a real hayseed is made

The apple Pie  refreshing, with coffee is the best

But old Apple cider, fermented, that’s the real test.


People talk, people rant

On subjects far and wide

People reason, but people can’t 

Know how much we hide. 

For who’s to say he’s judge

Of what might or might not be

His mind is just fudge

All mixed up you see

‘Tis good to ponder everything

To know what makes it tick

But he who his own praises sings

He just makes me sick.


I roamed the country far and wide

In many places did I abide

Many a folk did treat me well

Some few did me tell

To hie me off as if I were swill

Those cut me to the quick until

I met a seer who knew all folk

He did compare them to the yolk 

Of an egg that was too old

Their poor old souls had turned to mold.


Power is a wonderful gift

When used to better the earth

To give everyone a lift

To fill the air with mirth

When folks are well they be rich

No matter their way of living

There do be some with an itch

To grasp or get without giving

Their souls be warped or none

Their vision blurred and dark

But like clouds soon are gone

And again the song of the lark

To him who has the power

To brighten up this sphere

He will live in a tower

A temple to all far and near.


Roads wind every which way

Some take turns whch lead you astray

Some are staight as the crow flies

Others are as crooked as cross eyes

To wander aimlessly may lead into a maze

To plot the course one must not be in a daze

So clear the cobwebs out frum de head

And check each dangerous curve instead.



The world belongs to the new

The old are old with brains askew

The new grasp all with greedy hands

The new look out to foreign lands

The grass looks greener over the hill

‘Till one fine day not so far away

They grow old with Nothing to say

They cannot run fast their mind is slowed

Then they as old by  new new will be towed.


To write poetry is pretty tough

After a while you run out of stuff

You want me to shoot the breeze 

Then I write as I please

About sticks and stones

That can break my bones

About what I eat every day

Specially leftovers in th friggy tray

The late late show that quits at three

But I’m up at six, you know me

The fishing trip that’s long overdue

Gefilte fish looks better in stew

Meshuga is the topic of the day

Now is a goot time to amscray.


To seek the rewards of this plane

Seem well and good

The many who grasp as if there’s no tomorrow

They be ignorant, their eyes in a hood

They will reap the many straws of sorrow

To hurt, to destroy does not behoove a mortal

His love of fellow man should be the rule of day

Thus one acquires a soul entering the portal

To an Eden, there forever to stay.


I like to lie in the grass

Watching the clouds as they pass

In their many conformations

Then my dreams come true

As I watch the long review

Make real my imaginations

I own royal castles in the air

My royal steeds are always there

Awaiting my visitations

This world is yours to have and hold

If you but be so bold

To accept the Lord’s creations.


Every morn is bright and gay

Tho clouds may be dark and gray

The beams of light cut thru the mist

And chase them far away

As each little deed is gaily done

Cares disappear one by one

All that’s left is a long long list

For tomorrow to start off the fun fun fun...


It would be nice if the little mice 

Would run across an ink pad

Then if they’d dance a little or prance a little

Across a big paper wad

Then if they’d put a stamp

While they’re in camp

Upon that piece of paper 

The folks at home would

Not feel no alone

And they’d dance a joyous caper.


A camp sould be clean and nice

Not unpleasant or full of mice

A camp should have sisters and mothers

Not chain wearing wardens and others

A camp should have rules that apply to all

Not favorites on whom no onus fall

A camp should have leaders with compassion

Not disciplinarians who whip without reason

A camp should not be a dictatorship

Everyone shuld have a voice in running the ship

Above all a camp is no jail

With such a reputation, it is bound to fail.


A supervisor who cannot admit he’s wrong

Is a person of small stature

He has a mind that does belong

In a low form of crawling nature

So with brawn and litle brain

This behemoth seeks to win

It has only one refrain

“Might is right that’s no sin”

The ten commandments are just stone

Charity just a word to belittle

The Ogre is all alone

When the Lord him doth whittle.


Camp is a nice place in which to be

You have nice people but some stinkers there you’ll see

Nice ones are so born

The others are just a thorn

In the sides of their kin

By nature their minds are thin

So forgive their meanness and their spite

For they cannot hurt what is right.


Next week as the summer winds blow

We’ll get in the old buggy and away we’ll go

First to flat in Connecticut

For a day or two we’ll be in a rut

Then to the hills in good old Pitts

There we’ll park at the good Ritz

Then away to camp Miniwhawha

Where the bugs bite and fish cha cha

We’ll meet you there on Silver Lake

Since you know we’re comin, go bake a cake

And if you have New Yorkitis

We’ll bring a crying towel for your sinusitis.


Empty space is not a waste

Nor idle thoughts a total loss

A desert can bloom in Edenish taste

A dreamer can change a world of dross

But steady endeavor toward a goal

Has rewards worth while

Could be fur lined mink stole

Or a million dollar smile.


Du bist ein kleine madel

Und ich hoff das dein kleidel

Is nicht zu gross auf dir

Eine hutte trugst du nicht

Dein kopfe is versicht

Weil du trinkst ein glassele bier.


Now I’m stuck for time

Not even one little rhyme

Can I tell my steamboat

Did she really get skinny

Did she become finny

Has she got a voice like a goat

When she left for parts unknown

At home was only an empty throne

What has become of my dreamboat

We’ll soon be near her 

Boy will we cheer her 

With ice cream in a cantaloupe.


The heat wave is here at last

Sweat rolls down my back

That beautiful snow sure melted fast

But the frigature has a special rack

Beautiful ice cubes one by one

I put them in lemonade

Then when they are gone

My good neighbors I do raid.


Some people in camp are nice

Some are stupid and vicious

In their blood some have ice

Such should be fed to the fishes

They have no faith but hypocricy

They double deal their friends

Of human relations they make mockery

And dare the social trends

The normal life is taboo

They seek to change it all

To them it’s 23 skidoo

For goodness is very tall.


I can see you a running across the field

Fearful for what you might hear

Your mind against horrors steeled

To wonder and shiver the phone to your ear

To hear a voice that calmed you down

To feel that you were almost home

Soon the clock will run around

Again you’ll be under the Hillside dome


Now that you have sailed the seas

Climbed the mountains to their tops

You will sip the nectar of the bees

Happy as a baby with lollypops.

You’ll see the stars within your reach

The clouds like pillows at your head

Then as you try to bite a peach

You’ll fall out of bed instead.


Sleepy time has come to camp

The tots are all tucked in

A searchlight blinks, stupid lamp

To try and find some sin.

Gently snores and some snarls

Vie with the buzz of bugs

End of the day, no more quarrels

Liken to dust swept under the rugs.


I like to come on my white horse

With my sword and shield prepared

And wreak havoc with no remorse

On those who caused you tears unspared

With words I could slay them

With might I’d bury them deep

If you wish them well, amen

Then with your conscience you can sleep

But I have cause to pay them back

For evils that did accrue

They are ashes and clothes of lsack

Something the Devil did spew.


When you’re on a diet

The calories are low

To keep the tummy quiet

Tighten your belt below

No more in between snacks

No more sugar or lard

On the backside a few whacks

Will make you firm and hard

To bed early each day

You’ll find your tummy shrinking...

Beware the ides of May.



The eagle’s eye

Surveyed the scene

Of ruin and desolation

A barren waste of arid soil

That once was a nation.

Nothing stirred

Beneath his flight

No dust or motion

The ages claimed 

Another world

By natural erosion.


Color war color schmor

Everybody got cholera

Some are blue and some are red

They run around crazy

When they should be in bed.

Some are yellow and some are pink

The yellers holler, ”chicken how you do s...k”

Some are poiple and some are black

The guy who started this should get it in de nack.


Sticks and stones may break your bones

But words can crucify you

Friends you’ll make and friends you’ll lose

Those that stay will be true

Tho you’ll look far and wide

You can be sure they’ll be few

The more you’ll meet the more you’ll see

And your knowledge of folk will accrue

So with patience and sincerity

You’ll know what’s best to do.


The milling crowds in Times Square

In a never ending swirl

The flickering lights that are there

Dim and glow and twirl

Characters from all over

Attend this gala place

Like lambs in a field of clover

They frolic without any grace.


The last few days just drag along

Each hour marked and crossed

Soon you’ll be where you belong

No longer by officious Zombies bossed

Toss those days into memory’s ash heap

Next time you’ll ask, “are they human?’

Before they ask you to leap

A pretty camp but no acumen.


Be true to yourself, a wise adage

Self respect counts most

To lessen dignity for a mess of porridge (pottage?)

Is the price only a fool would boast

To build their ego and replenish

A vacant life, a faded flower

No pity when the pen writes finish.


Letters we write to express our thoughts

Sometimes we are lucid, more oft not

Writing gay and cheery bon mots

Is O.K. but you know wot?

Written notes that may boomerang too soon

That’s the kind to avoid

For the blackmailer it is a boon

To the writer it may be Freud.


A skito and a water bug

Met one sunny day

Said the skito to the bug,

“How’s business down your way?”

“Tickling toes you skinny lug

What have you to say?”

The skito raised his piked head

And shrilly voiced a bray,

“I’ll have you know, water bug

That ten noses did I slay.”

The water bug the skito did mug

And thus did end the play.


Chipper is a nosey bird

She delves in all nooks and crannies

When she chirps she can be heard

She sounds like two orphan annies

She’ll fly upon your shoulder and nibble you ear

A few crumbs will (please) her and make her full of cheer

She’ll climb on your glasses and nibble your nose

If you don’t watch out she’ll mess up your clothes

A good and happy pal when you need one

She asks so little, just some attention.



To go fishing is a lot of fun

The sun bakes your face and 

The wind makes your nose run

The fish may nibble or the fish may not

Sometimes a hook in your finger may be your lot

You row the boat from place to place

By golly the ocean is a great big space

Your muscles get sore and your back gets bent

What you catch may not be worth a cent

So pity the worm you cut in two

If he had his way, it might be you.


A hamburg plus a bottle of pop

Is a glorious feast for two

Just by the wayside did stop

To marvel at a mountain view

With eyes that were open could not see

With words spoken could not hear

Oblivious to all but their company

Tread not the ground, heaven was near.


Buddies in tents tho you be

Everyone’s stuff looks good on thee

To give in spirit one should get

To take and forget is not etiquette

So swap ye around for many a day

The rags ye have left better give away

How you must look in a birthday suit

The last day at camp when you get the boot.


Lucky you away from here

A place of dust and heat

Lucky you to be there

We have no retreat

Lightning and thunder storms

Beat us black and blue

Naure in its many forms

Can be a devil too

And you who nature loves

Will bloom and blossom fair

We who are the turtle doves

Will relax in a rocking chair.


We’re in the Conn. hills

Soon we’ll move again

Always toward new thrills

But never on a train

The Jalop rumbles on

Away to the Berkshires

If you don’t clothes don

Boy how you’ll perspire

Silly words and simple rhyme

Come from a simple mind

The flies are biting all time

Me they hadda find.


As you can see I’m slowing down a lot

The words do fade, thoughts I’ve not

But breezes blow just the same

Then you can hear beautiful sound

As life does you surround

In a large and picturesque frame

To him or her who sits and waits

The rewards may pass them by

Those that plan and set the bait

They may get their apple pie.


The little dog no hay he et

T’was warm to sleep twas his bet

The horse was hongry, tired and sore

He et hay and did deplore

That the little dog should stay

The dog he barked which meant neigh, neigh

The equine up his heels did kick

‘Till the little dog was quite sick

Now the horse he munch de hay

‘Cause de little dog he amscray.


You must be very happy

To leave your present abode

The iniquities and people so sappy

Are no loss to your living mode

Let them go their forlorn way

They are square pegs in a round hole

Yours not to judge or say

That they live in darkness like a mole

So be happy in the bright sun

Ignore the sour souls around

You will have much fun

Despite the picklepusses that follow the hound.


Sunny days are always cheery

Starlit nights embrace romance

The sport of days may make you weary

But by night all must dance

To youth is given the flesh and spirit

To enjoy and pleasure the earth

For those  such treasures can merit

If they can prove their worth.


When the wild and wooly waves of heat

Across the brows of your face beat

And your eyeballs keep dropping to your chin

Then it’s time for ice cubes drowned in gin

And a big old fan turned on full din

The more you’ll drink the more to sweat

Too limp to move even to bet

I think I’ll just roll down a hill

‘Cause at the bottom there’s rill.


Each rose sweet amd fragrant

Admired and symbolized

Bears a thorn that’s flagrant

Punishing those unwise

Pick not the rose in haste

For twill wither and die

Its attar gone to waste

Its bloom over with a sigh

The thorn will defend it

Tho it be bloodied yet unbowed

So he who dared to pick it 

May end up in a shrould.


The sticks and stones that lie around

Are only waiting to be found

Then gathered as one reaps a harvest

To be stored and readied upon request

Then used as the mind devises

Into uniform or odd shaped sizes.

The artistry that comes into sight 

Is man’s creation from dark to light.



Walls are blank as the day is born

‘Till shadows creep them to adorn

Then changing as the winds on high

The walls grow tall or shrink and die

The walls can make a pleasant abode

Or close you in as the end of a road

So how you build is your fate

But build you must soon or late.


No sighs no regrets

The ship sails to foreign shores

No ties, no frets

The tears may fall but one abhors

The slow, so speed along

To your far off land

The future holds its outstretched hand.


We may not know in reality

What all seek is immortality

The simplest folk find the key

That opens the door to eternity

Leaving behind a part of them

From which again a flower does stem

For such is the way of life and birth

As seeds do fall into fragrant earth.


Today is now for we are here

To know, to see, to feel what e’er.

Ago is past, no turning back

We saw, we heard, alas, alack.

Tomorrow we hail as pure, serene,

We sleep, we wake, we hope, no dream.


Traveling on the river boats

Where kids jump around like nanny goats

Eating dogs and potato chips

Sipping cokes and candy nips

Tossing rubbish everywhere

Yelling, screaming with no care

To them belongs this glorious day

Pity the one who gets in the way. 

This generation will rule qute soon

And start another with a spoon

Then they will have their reward

That spoon will turn into a sword

And pay them back manyfold

So if you see brats do not scold.


To stay out late for a date

May be the style today

To get O.D. without a fee

That’s the penalty you must pay.

To set an example for your charges

Would be the proper largesses

You should have  good remorse

So put your children early to bed

Lull them to sleep with prose

You do not go out...instead

Hit the hay or I’ll hit your nose!


The roads to camp were full of bumps

The sun was hot as hades

The car sure did get its lumps

The language befit no ladies

Away in the woods, nay the primeval forest

Lay the wigwams of Minewhawha

By the shore of Silver Lake Crest

Lived the campers from Aniwha

Away from the hubbub of the city

Away from the modern world

So the poor tired parents could sing a ditty

In the comfort of their sofas curled.


Idle gossip is social life

In small town and community

Facts distorted causes strife

For which there is no immunity

An idle whisper, a snide remark

Are badges of evil people

They who operate in the dark

Should be suspended from a church’s steeple.



Words are lines that wander around

And settle in places where more abound

Then joining together form a shape

That clothe the figure in  fanciful drape

Fitting the wearer in warp and woof

Royal robes or a regal spoof?


Live and learn is a routine in life

Pleasure and peace vie with strife

Constant motion lead to many paths

Avoiding or colliding incurring wraths

And finally settling on a quiet sward

A plaque or tombstone point to the Lord.



People hurrying, people scurrying

People everywhere

People hurting people alerting

People in despair

People winning

People losing

People nowhere.


Each little raindrop 

Has a speck of dust

When many are gathered

Fall to earth they must

The winds soar this earth

With many varied seed

The twain doth meet

Somewhere to provide a need.


To curl up in a corner

To face a blank wall

To deny the world with

No emotion at all

Such is illness of mind

The body can be treated

The mind more complicated

We know for sure

Such we do little, pity poor mankind.



Each sound is a note

From a song in the air

In harmony or discord

The music is there

Attuned is the ear

That hearkens to all

And treaures the jewels

Where ever they fall.



In every window there is a light

Some dim, some very bright

The shades are drawn in different lengths

Revealing or hiding unknown strengths

As as you look and closely perceive

The vista is clear no need to deceive.



Sitting and waiting is an awful thing

Not knowing and worrying consumes one’s being

The unanswered question becomes a terror

As time keeps moving the mind, in a furor

Keeps repeating and repeating till

It can bear no more.

What happened, why, and where, until the door

Opens up and fearful to look at

What might not be 

Eyes shut tightly, will they ever see?


A trap is baited with many a lure

The victim will spring to doom for sure

Such is the hope of the hunter at large

The hunted know where ever they forage

The game is played, all skills are keen

What ever will be must have been.



The golden age is a figment of youthful imagination

Old is one who keeps looking back

For that is stagnation

For each is eternally young

Who seeks the rainbow’s treasure

For that path to glory leads

And fulfillment of earthly pleasure.


A hungry look in an eye 

May be the gyrations of a fly

As thoughts wing then alight

Form contemplations bad or right

Then, emerging , become a deed.

So thought, so done, ends a need.



Important are things in time and day

Importance lasts come what may

Important things do change with age

Importance then becomes the sage

Important values come and go

Importance then is only show.



Who is better than thou

What difference does it make 

Who is to decide how

What ones to forsake

Who can go on forever

What paths lead that way

Who his ties sever

What fools on paths astray.


Thoughts float thru the air

Reach and grasp anywhere

Then ponder what you’ve caught

Perchance the answer you’ve sought

To one of many questions lost

As the needle in a haystack tossed.



Sold is time for a bit of doss

The most precious of all for a loss

Irreplaceable no price can be set

Time is immortal as history is met

The portion we have is ours to use

And colors that space in many hues.


Each day we learn something new

Shows we’re not dead or our brains askew

As the tree grows and the leaves multiply

We observe and add to our supply

Of knowledge that is the key

To the universe of you and me

And the whys and ways of fellow man

To forgive their sins as we should and can.


Greater than the speed of light

Unspoken thoughts can be heard afar

Darkness need not be without

For each one there is a star

The bonds that tie are subtle threads

That strengthen with the span of time

No earthly power can break the bonds

That form the chain that is time.



Smiling faces along the way

Do not always joy portray

Frowning faces turning away

May have thoughts but do not say

Tear eyed faces in disarray

Tragedy in full display.


I try to go a simple way

To love my neighbor is my creed

I seek the good beneath the dirt

And every day do a deed

And lessen a task or mend a hurt

My path can wind, my feet can stray

The eye to wash the tears away

My thoughts, my hopes, are straight and true

The bow unbent has sped its bolt on blue.



The ties that bind

May be gossamer threads

That reach to infinity

Twisted or woven

Their warp and woof

Form and shape creativity

Never to be broken

No matter the cause

The ends are held by deity.



There is no horror

But what we cope

There is no sorrow

But in our scope

There is no tomorrow

But what we hope.



A song is made of many things

Of sighs of tears of pearls on strings

Of gentle zephyrs or babbling brook

Of fleecy clouds of love forsook

Of laughter of hate of mind askew

Of anything of nothing unreal or true.


This mortal coil contains all things

Living or dead of all beings

Living or dead they move around

The coil unwinds its knell to sound

The grand finale seems ashes and dust

Living or dead remains part of the crust.


A beehive, a city what to do

So many so much busy too

The hum inceasing a city grows

For progress for what who knows

But busy as a bee it seems

For nothing for something just dreams

A cog a nut a bit of oil

A machine a human but to toil

Looking forward to reward

Tis only memories that we hoard.


Formative years are supposedly the teens

Books are written in acts and scenes 

Then following thru to later stages

The adult aspiring crosses the sages

The sire beholds his offspring from manger

Has become new almost a stranger

Despite books and tales from yore

From stripling to adult there is no score.


Freedom is bound by the confines of thought

Freedom is restricted if never sought

Freedom is enslaved by madmen in power

Freedom is lost but only hour to hour

Freedom does rise from the ashes of ruin

Freedom never dies, immortality must win.



Start, just start anywhere

To do the things you care

To start is to begin

A venture, fantasy or dare

Start, the wheels turn, move

Once started appears a groove

That deepens and so

Your dreams do prove.


A rift in the cloud lets the sun shine thru

A rift in the mind lets reason renew

A rift in a country lets people askew

A rift in the world let’s start anew.



Who what when or why

Sometimes are words 

Oft times are sighs

Who what when or why

May be innocence

Then again lies

Who what when or why

In this span of life

Oft unanswered dies.



Morals like a picket fence

Contain a patch of earth

Each within his lot

Kindles his own hearth

The pickets fall with time or trial

Repairs may change the original style

The flames that glowed in warming flashes

By the winds of chance

Cease and are ashes.


Knock on any door

A story can be told

Of life in many phases 

As a flower its petals unfold

From seedling to seed

Thru fragrance unbarred

Each door is an entrance

To hearts that are scarred

Some doors may never be opened

The bars are too strong

Yet within each lair the ashes

May sift their dust along.


Magic carpets need not be

Things we dream in fantasy

Today is a modern age

Scientific carpets are the rage

In coach or plane we whisk around

Everywhere as fast as sound

What we need is the wherewithall

To realize dreams as tall.    



Hindsight is a monstrous thing

It gives us an eye all seeing

What should have been done

Seems to every one

The obvious facts of being.



A trip I’ll take if a trip I’ll make

To far away places

The trip is such, if a trip is much

To see many new faces

The trip I’ve had, if a trip is mad

And wonder why I made it

This trip was one, if a trip was done

The end was marked adit.


Is the rich man richer than the poor man?

Is accumulation of wealth a goal?

Is the time on this earth cheap for humans?

Is it sold for dross by the mole?



Live and learn is more or less

Learn and live without a mess.



The good book had been read

By seers long since dead

Their versions do unfold

In countless stories told

In each one’s eye a gleam

That casts a ray of light

And things are what they seem

From their many sided height.


Let me be the one who looks at all

Hurrying past me as if on call

Do I stand still as I watch

Am I alone a single match

No one stops all do move 

Fast or slow in a worn groove

He that swiftly passes by

Reaches an end low or high

An end that completes a tale

Calm, serene or with gusts of a gale.



Wheels are made to roll around

Straight or up and down

On terrain fair or otherwise

Across a sea or cloudy skies

Where ever one dares to roam

Wheels must churn and freshen loam.



Do people know what I’m talking about

When I mouth sounds and verbal kraut

When I spout facts and statistics too

When all I say is bound with goo

Yet people listen and do accept

Whatever the drivel whatever the concept

An audience can always be found

To lsten to thunder if it be profound.


The lilting words of poetry

May lift some to ecstacy

And others cast to the depths

‘Twas always thus with inepts

With words of rhyme, tales are told

Of subjects new, strange or old

So poetry in emotional throes

Equals and surpasses the best of prose.



Belligerent youth has no fear

He rushes out the world to sear

Whoever in the way may be 

Is trodden over impatiently

To grasp a glitter that far off lies

No feeling, remorse or otherwise

Beware the youth as he past you peers

For that was once you, now a seer.


The hand with the lethal knife

Emptied a niche that was filled 

So easy to destroy a life

That took so long to build

This world is in need of good

To nurture those who believed

That God on His pedestal stood

And sorrowed for those bereaved.



The ultimate of everything

To have more than you can spend

Such being the case

There’s always something to lend

To give where it’s needed most

Is very gratifying

For you lose nothing in the giving

And for you most satisfying.



The shoes of a man judge a man

They guide him in this sphere

The shoes of a man tell a man

His destination far or near

The shoes of Man dress a man

In raiment poor or dear

The shoes of man find a man 

Be he animal or peer.


Revolution is revelation

Of forces hidden deep

Evolution is evaluation

From the bottom of the heap

Capitalism is capitulation

Of the masses fast asleep.


The season’s greetings come again

The earth is white with purity

The prayers end with solemn amen

As the spirit moves in serenity.

The world turns to a page unmarked

To begin a story old

As each living creature is embarked

On paths that feet did mold.


A line can denote anything

From minute dot to miles of string

The varied lengths this line does make

Reveals the paths our lives do take

The zig of a line may lead to sin

The zag may show what might have been

As the line leads thru many a maze

Do we know or remain in a daze?


Regardless of reason love or rhyme

Kits come first all the time

The world is fuzzy as kits cavort

Mother instinct does blind and distort

Kits do grow but sense is nil

Heart strings tear, hisory stands still

Kits get smart, some stay dumb

Then comes the day to add the sum.


A crippled sparrow dragged its wing

It vainly sought a niche to hide

Its day was gone to fly and sing

Its only hope to crawl inside

The bitter cold, the barren ground

Gave no succor, it mattered not

A little flutter, than no sound

The rest we know, to each his lot.


Take some words

Put them together

Liken milk to curds

Or grass on the heather

With words soft or

The edge of a knife

To tell or be told

Is the way fo life.



At this stage of the game

A common refrain

Covers a multitude of sin

Empty voices that complain

Are out, never in

Empty shells and hollow noises

Like people are the same.


The pendulum swung back and forth

In regulated beat

The steady rhythm continued on

In cadence, throbbing sweet

The muted voices now soared

Forth in loud requiem

And with it all the forces

Broke emerging into diem.



Came the day as any other

Came the night and then another

Gone the days and nights in time

Till the day and night sublime

This the day and what may be

This the night and we did see.


Faces are places 

Where smiles are born

Faces are places 

Where tears are torn

Faces are places

Where we sojourn

Faces are places 

Where I’m forlorn.


The colors of the rainbow

Stretched across the sky

Form a regal archway

To the land of where and why

While the mind does ponder

The glory of it all

There is no escaping

We enter when we fall.


Knowledge comes to age

Like wine inside a casket

Fermenting page by page

Till poured into a flasket

Slowly sipped for fullest pleasure

Its bouquet, its warmth a veritable treasure.


Opinions and facts are much the same

To decide a truth is quite a game

The fact of the matter may seem secure

An opinion by expert also sure

Yet the one to decide the end result

Finds facts unreal and opinion a cult.


Square pegs in round holes

Fit people in varied roles

Is time wasted as such

Relatively speaking how much

No matter what the task

Each deed however ask

Can move a mountain site

Can change a world overnight.


The golden glow of sunset

Fills the soul with mead

As the golden apples of Wodin

Gave the gods their need

The cares of past have long

Faded from this sphere

The long evening soothing

Gently envelopes all fear

Alone or hand in hand

Walking along the sward

Into far infinity

The path moves always to the Lord. 



This wish for one to have

The nicest  thing I know

To take a walk any time

Anwhere you want to go

No strings, no ties, no barshold you in from out

To smooth away the past

And forget to turn about.



Who misses whom when we depart

Who sheds a tear, feels from the heart

Is life just life and ends at the brink

Is the abyss bottomless as we sink?

As a flower that blooms to perfume the air

Some fragrance lingers and sweetens despair.


Plant your feet on solid ground 

If you wish to make a mound

Build of bricks or wood or straw

But build you can, well done or raw

The mound you build is yours alone

Tall or small you make your own.



There must be motion to be alive

To attain the things for which you strive

For not to move means things pass you by

A parade of glory lost to the eye

With motion you come and finally go

The in between is what you sow.



We know not what will happen next

We prepare from what is text

For a future to follow thru

And plans oft do go askew

The unknown is ever around

To interfere, to create a mound

So planning is the general rule

The end result: a seer, a fool?



Count the wrinkles on your face

They are as intricate as fine old lace

Each line a mark for something done

Each line a battle lost or won

As the soft blandness of youth does change

To the myriad of lines, it does seem strange

Why beauty should flower to delight the world

Then fade to lines in ashes curled.



The moods of people make a day

Good or bad, sad or gay

A smile, a growl, a word or not

To each his own to each his lot

Those who within them mind

Reap less than the other kind.



To sit around and pose

Is a way of life they chose

To sit around and wait

Is the same related trait

For those who view this earth

For what it has to offer

To them is given no dearth

Of treasures in its coffers.


In different ways we communicate

And progress hence is fed

Let the slender threads be torn or late

A wall springs up instead

Despite these walls or strife of day

The world continues on its way.



I know something you don’t know

I’m not telling but it’s so

What I won’t say will aggravate

Your curiosity to exaggerate

The adult will excuse this kind

For no one can compete with a child’s mind



A word is used to express a thought 

The sound of which is much or naught 

The different sounds of a single word

Make different thoughts as each is heard

Tho speech may be the bond between

Depends on how the word is seen.


I sleep and then I cannot 

I dreamt and then I forgot

The world does turn

And one may discern

An inkling of his lot.



From primeval mud to infinity

Are many stages of obscenity

From brutal force to moral code

Each stage a varied mode

That advances or retracts

As light is shed upon the facts

So by degrees each stage is set

A growing chain as each is met.



Instinct is a knowhow, 

A power given to few

To know the answers without thought

And then to follow thru

The lowly bug has this gift

With its first move of life

The human being must the chaff sift

With many a year of strife.



In each car is the face of a man

Who holds a wheel in  place

The long line wavers now and then

Entangling wheels and faceless men

The line seems never ending

Despite each waver and its blending.



Social significance a phrase

Ever a way of life

Posing a question of conflict ever rife

The society that we build

Must pyramid to heights

The base is always filled

With refuse of the rights.



The meek inherit the earth

Don’t give me a laugh

Those who have no mirth

They who lead the calf

Give each a fair share of dirt

In time too soon t’will be

The one who can  you hurt

Has taken over the free.


Serious faces guard the earth

Atlases without joy or mirth

Ever building, seeking out

Flaws or errors all about

Comes the day they must desist

No one can the end resist

Reward for these is all work

All I can see, each a jerk.



What you wish 

Is what you get

Believe it or not

Just make a wish

Then get set

To receive your lot

Then done the wish

Do not fret

Maybe someone forgot.



The top of the ladder 

Is not the last rung

Nor the loudest voice

The last note sung

Climbing or singing may

Get you far 

But what is the price

To reach for a star.



No matter where you go

Some one will run the show

But why this must be so

I’m sure I’ll never know

No one is really free

Of self or responsibility

So what makes you or me

My brother’s keeper be.


Today &Tomorrow

Man is immortal as he

Projects body and soul

Into the future where

All parts equal the whole

No matter how assembled

No part is ever lost

For today is tomorrow

At no extra cost.


The road is long and winding

The traveler plods his weary way

The sun is hot and blinding

The wayfarer has nothing to say

The years of toil have taken its toll

The mind has withered too

But onward still playing a role

He marches out of view

Who he was, where he goes

No one gives a thought

But there is One who knows

He is the One who’s sought

The road winds to eternity

The course never clears

But onward with serenity

The marcher needs no cheers.


Must one cater to the seer

Is he the fount of lore

Must one give up dreams dear

Is that knowing the score

The skies to infinity go

All paths turn and twist

Who is to say it’s so

Who can clear the veil of mist

Theories are strong beliefs

Facts seem to be so strong

But big ships are wrecked on reefs

Some one must be wrong

So give the dreamer his due

The future is full of glory

To him who questions the few

That stick to the same old story.


Wouldst thou like a parakeet 

To abide in thy home

Twould brighten up the shadows

You’d never feel alone

His(Her) merry chirps would clear the air

Twould be merrie music of parade with fanfare

The little feathered clown would never ask for pay

Your presence would suffice

He’d love you every day.



Each one is busy

Each has a job to do

A wonder we don’t get dizzy 

Before the day is thru

Year in  year out

The path becomes a rut

Just look up and about

Then realize you’re a nut

The time has passed

With the rest of history

We’re not made to last

Nor fathom the mystery.



Legitimate is what the law

Says you can do

To do the forbidden is

To break a rule or two

What was bad yesteryear

May be well and good today

As people progress

Law goes from nay to aye.


The thirst to know upon one does grow

So away to school we go

We learn by rote what others quote

And question if it’s so.

A page a day we while away

The precious time we have

From your home you don’t have to roam

And at the fountain of knowledge lave

The books you store are by far more

The source of your power

A little time with thoughts sublime

Over all will you tower.



The den is bare

The cubs have fled

At each other we stare

Did someone drop dead

No, now peace and quiet

Ah! delicious solitude now

No more noisy riot

The cuisine is now normal chow

The wail, the whine of all brats

The sniveling, the weeping to get their ways

Was worse than all the alley cats

But gloriously musical as one 

Donkey to another brays.


We took a trip to get away 

From the humdrum way of life

We whizzed by trees and billboard array

The road with cars was rife.

The sun, the sky, the beautiful vista

Beckoned us on into the night

Till blinding headlights was a risk

A driver shuld never fight

So to the first motel that did appear

We called it a day

And on the morrow never fear

It’ll be the same old way.


Great minds in similar channels run

As they ponder the ways of the world

But I think it much more fun

To watch the waves as they uncurl

The boom of the surf and the wind from the sea

Carry me along with ecstasy

So fie on men with voices of lore

I find my pleasure on nature’s shore.


Nothing ventured, nothing gained

The Lord be willing the goal attained

The rainbow bends toward the pot of gold

Many hands extend the treasure to enfold

The glamour and the brilliance confuses the mind

Away from rewards that are not for the blind.


Big words little words express thought

The meanings of which are sought

By big people or little people

In their ways of life

So the simpler the word the

Clearer the sense

No misunderstanding and therefore less chance

To pick up a cudgle or promote a strife.


The pen moves along a line

Stumbles and stops as the path decrees

Wanders and fumbles like Neptune’s trine

Trying to catch the victims of the seas

When the waves subside to gentle swells

The pen moves gracefully oer the scene

Picturing thoughts where beauty dwells

Bringing peace and quiet serene

Soothing the sick, healing the hurt

With words of wondrous power

‘Tis best not to be curt

The milk of kindness doth never sour.



The spinning platter makes a song

The spinning world just goes along

The spinning bee makes people wrong

The spinning dervish fools the throng

The spinning spider whets his prong

The spinning mills do life prolong

The spining gods hold our thong.


There must be time to play

To offset a hard workday

There must be smiles to cheer

When you find no egg in your beer

There must be a touch of the hand

Or pat on the head so you’ll understand

That you’re not alone to face the world

‘Tis the little amenities like flower buds curled

That hold you with scent and promise

Then flowering forth show what the world is.



The suburban life is very fine

As you can planly see

The birds, the bees  make melody

That sounds like Auld Lang Syne

The rooster crows to the morning sun

And starts you on your way

Your daily work is lots of fun

Just like mowing hay

The evening breezes cool your brow

The supper sates your taste

‘Till those mosquitoes seek their chow

I wouldna want to be in your place.


To while away the dreary hours

I doodle and daddle till it sours

Then I came back to reality

And face the problems in my locality

The routine buzzes and rolls along

I stick my nose in where it don’t belong

The snapping and the snarling is in high gear

Then back to doodaddling never fear


It’s hottern hades in the ole town

The shades are up the blinds won’t come down

In bathing suits or birthday suits

They’re hanging out the windows

With voices mute and figures cute

You can never tell how the wind blows.


The busy bee seeks honey

Where ever the flower blooms

The rabbit tho he be funny

Ducks when danger looms

The skunk goes his selfish way

Cares not for friend or foe

He really has nothing to say

To those who annoy him only woe

So give a little take a little

That is the law of nature

Those that give not, may be spittle

They have yet to mature

The butterflies speak tho miles apart

The tom toms carry messages afar

Some humans have no art

So good ƒriendships are lost on the bar.



Know the answers when you’re young

May save a lot of grief

Suffice to say the young are young

Ignorant beyond belief

So why the surge of worldly ken

A puzzlement for sure

It is a shame to admit the fact

That ignorance is pure.


‘Tis simple to sit back and wonder

‘Tis easy just to look and ponder

As such you may be rooted as a tree

The mind of man made to do

The world a better place for you

As such you made me, a something for thee.



Instinct makes one fight

Anything strange or out of sight

Fear of difference, fear of dark

Builds high walls, stills the lark

Animal instinct rules a herd

Humans have minds plus the word.


Is oneself just you alone

Or are you part of the whole

Do you your sins atone

Or pass them on in another role

Since the beginning of all life

Stems from a common room

The chain lengthens and no knife

Can sever you from the woven loom.


Everything is cut and dried

To those who look behind

Things ahead are untried

They choose not to find

Going on with eyes turned back

Is blindly wandering

Vistas offered do not lack

Rewards to beckoning.


Count your blessings every day

The yesteryear is gone away

The now is Eden to enjoy

The past, once gone cannot annoy

The morrow promises a new slate

Today, to do, tomorrow too late.


I missed the bus again last night

And I was tired as can be

I cursed the driver with all my might

I was mad as you can see

I’ll pray for him to go to h..l

And burn where it’s the hottest

His soul he  has not to sell

So I’ll know what his lot is

I’ll dream of sticking him

And many other pleasures 

But some day I may be on a limb

Then they’ll be taking my measures.


A friend of mine went walking

Thru old Central Park

He wasn’t much for talking 

He was just on a lark

The trees, the rocks and the little old stream

Was his own Paradise

To walk, to moon was his only dream

That and a sandwich would suffice

Who wants more than the simple things in life

Has blindfolds on his eyes

His fortune is like living with a shrewish wife

Praise be he who has no such ties.



Death came gracefully

Knocked on the door

The flower of life was now no more

Beautiful and sturdy

A joy to behold

Its fragrance, its love

A story well told

Remorse and sorrow

And untold grief

To mourn the passing gives no relief

The feeling is stronger 

Than life itself

To give a simple prayer

Is God’s own wealth.


It’s darkest before dawn

As the saying goes

It’s laughter before tears

As the whole world knows

It’s life before death

As the grim reaper mows

It’s friendship before love

As true love grows

“Tis I before all 

As I hide my woes.



He without faith is a sorry soul indeed

His life, his hopes are wholly without seed

He wanders, he seeks in all ways of life

No hope, no light in his turmoil and strife

His eyes are vacant, his soul is bare

He is a lost one in the universe of air.


Who would like to be a tree

And stand so tall, stately and free

What we like and what we do

That’s a question for me and you.

And in the forest we have our friends

The deer, the squirrels, the flying wrens

They play their games beneath our boughs

They roll and wriggle between our toes

They frolic and feed and are happy indeed

For the shade and protection a tree is a need.


The animals of lower form

Are endowed with nature’s gift

Their species do conform

As humans thru them sift

The rules that govern their span

Has been taken, copied by man

So all his ken is for sure

From one we know, Mother Nature.



I’ve got so much to do 

And so little time

My pulse beats faster

I’ve one more hill to climb

The sun keeps sinking

In dark shadows I am lost

Eyes, breath and heart I move 

No matter what the cost.



There is no beginning

There is no end

We give we take

Borrow or lend

The picture is clear

For just a flash

No beginning, no end

To the cautious or rash.



If you do not grasp a thought

And put it down for sure

So lost a thought, twas worth naught

Another I can procure

So say each who missed the boat

‘Twas not my fault for sure

If ever again, in like refrain

I can, if I mature.



The orb of day is wrapped away

In mist and foggy dew

The day seems bleak as I do seek

A brightness always new

I look askance thru clouds perchance

I’ll find a ray or two

Then perhaps like other saps

I’ll complain till I am blue.


Hustle, hustle times awasting

Bustle, bustle things to do

Where are all the playthings

When life was still new.

Gone into memory that long ago

Now a treadmill of endless length

No start no stop ever so

Except you if you have strength.


Do you walk the firm step

Of youth with pride and joy

Or tremble and totter inept

As age its shadows round you deploy.



All the people that I see

No two alike seems to me

I watch each one passing by

Do they laugh, do they cry

Their faces mask what they are

True or false, pure or bar

Yet in each must be a glory

If each would tell his story.


Basically each is an animal

With instinct to survive

And propogate.

The culture acquired over

Many a year is quickly shed

In moments of hate

The few who vie for a better

World are made in martyr’s mold

That self should be sacrificed

Despite icons offered in gold.


‘Tis laughable to watch people going by

Some are judges, others judged

Who’s to reason why

As ants and ants move and contend

In a labyrinth of bowers

A complicated system this society 

Of ours.

Conformity then is the way of life

That controls and creates order

Yet from the mass an entity

Enates escaping the border.



Stygian night envelopes the earth

Quiet disturbed with shouts of mirth

Two bright eyes that pierce the dark

Noisy toots add to the lark

We’re on our way. 

Dawn breaks quickly in the east

Rising red sun in a glorious feast

Sends forth scintillating arms

Beckons us on with untold charms

We’re on our way

Thru lowlands we speed on

Thru green woods, then gone

Straight as the sparrow flies

Southward ho our path lies

We’re on our way

Over long miles of road

Our chariot bears its load

Of cheerful friends, seeking thrills

Seeking the blue grass hills

We’re on our way.



The sun is shining outside all day

And here am I apining away

In a little hole in the wall.

It’s bright and cheery outside all day

It’s dark and dreary where I’m stuck away

In a little hole in the wall.

Every now and then, a beam of sunray

Comes stealing in from the outer day

Into that little hole in the wall.

And it cheers me up and makes me gay

So that I work merrily the rest of the day

In that little hole in the wall

And when I think of that lively ray

Which brightens up my work-a-day

I know that surely some little Fay

Is trying to lighten and brighen the day

In some other little hole in the wall.


We live with one another

As kin, a sister or brother

Abiding by the golden rule.

A dream we cherish dear

May be disrupted by fear

When one holds another a fool.

Yet no matter what the way

of one who has gone astray

We guard our concepts as a jewel.


Every one has a niche

Do we fill it?

A problem over which

Controls may not fit.

A start makes a groove

That grows into a rut

As senses may behoove

‘Stead a palace, a lowly hut.

One may make a hole

To fit a form intended

The other akin the mole

Becomes a one expended.


Every man has a soul

It’s what he thinks of himself as a whole

No beginning, surely no end

The soul and life simply blend.

Unto himself each man a god

Till time for each a cover of sod.

At the door of eternity slightly ajar

The eyes of man look up to one afar.



Music played

        Bodies swayed

Faces smiled

        Peace of child

Tempo increasing

        Limbs flinging

Faces distorted

        Senses aborted

Crescendo of noises

        Gone all poises.


Wrinkled before time

With vacant stare

Speaking to someone who isn’t there

Words disconnected

Bodies in throes

Knowing no hurt

Or cares or woes

A strange scene

Apart in this sphere

Casting shadows

In lengthening fear. 



Two drunks sat down with a bottle to share

Loose lipped and bleary with vacant stare

The bottle passed to and fro with loving care

Tatooed arms, faces lined by toil and wear

Oblivious of all but companionship fare

Hands outstretched for alms anywhere

Such depths are reached beyond despair.



Emotion and logic makes 

A theory sound and true

Negating experience

Youth makes the world anew

Shouting and placards

Are banners waved on high

To curb the waves of seas

That roll on despite hue and cry.



The day one gets humility

Is the day one does mature

Till then all is obscenity

Respect is obscure

When passing time reveals the end

The Iron man is shocked

He has no will to yield or bend

His life has been mocked.



A puppet leads a stringy life

A puppet follows the piper’s fife

All dance the tune of others

Some of strangers, some of brothers

I’ll always wonder why

We cannot cut the strings and fly.


Drowsy eyes, fighting sleep

No need to counting sheep

The day was too short

Imagination makes one abort

The realities of humdrum life

And sever such with surgeons’s knife.



The room is quiet

All things in place

No one is there

No one to face

Time stands still

Silence resounds

An implacable wall

That mounts, surrounds.


So open the doors

The windows too

Let light in

And life renew

The sun will warm

The air will breathe

The future continues

A future to conceive.



Immobility in a sense

Is stagnation hence

To stop I guess

The end of progress.



To define a term and make

Argument for argument’s sake

Is akin to antics of a child

Whose fragmentations make Satan wild.



To be or not to be

Is no question

For IT is

Fact is a fact

And not imagination

So IT is

Being is a being

And welcome creation 

As IT is.



When I am forced to write my thanks

    I dread the words to write

The Lord has records in his banks

    For this I am contrite.



The walls are blank and stark white

The door to the room slightly ajar

He worked on something out of sight

A young nurse blocked the door

“Please sir, don’t enter now

You should not, cannot see any more.”

Later the sight may not abhor

Emotions drained the mind is numb

Infinity has been reached

The mortal seeks,tho struck dumb

A drop of water, a crust, even a crumb.


Throbbing music, pulsating tunes

Notes of sheer delight

Fill all the hollows that abound us

Discordance, mismatching bells

Shrieks that disturb the night

Fill all the hollows that drown us.



Yours the choice of joy or tear

Yours to seek the clime

Yours to accept and bear

Yours to know in time.



Bars on the window

    Padded walls

        Sounds are heard

            But no one calls

Flesh immortal who

    The spirit has fled

        A living vegetation

            A human dead.



I was Ned

And I am dead

Because you sent me instead.

I was just a clerk

Who did his work

Same as Bro. Joe.

Yet I was called

I know not why

I was picked 

And so did die.

I was Ned

And I am dead

Because you sent me instead.

But now I know

How Bro. Joe

Never got to go.

Tho a clerk

But not a jerk

He filled his slip just so:

His duties he did number

To fill a page or two.

Important names did encumber

The letter he sent to you.

I was Ned

And I am dead

Because you sent me instead. 


There rages in the heart of man

A ferocious beast in chains to ban

The thoughts that would the world destroy

And leave no future for sorrow or joy

To build the bars the beast to hold

A man must think and thoughts enfold.



Sometime or other our paths must cross

And we’ll look at each other at a loss

What could have been never to know

Whatever we did was only for show

The past is buried in thoughts forlorn

The future is bright in the eyes of newborn.


When one wants to tell 

The story of his life

‘Tis only confession of

All his fears and strife

To cleanse the soul and

Mayhaps avoid perdition

To write or not that is the lot

When facing the geat physician.


Where laughter and cares fill each room

Where settles each bride with faithful groom

A house is a home.

Where walls are scarred or chalk bespoke

Where shades are raised as dawn is broke

A house is a home.

Where silence reigns in bleak despair

Where life and breath departs in air

A house is not a home.



Nothing ever really dies

Truth or fiction, fact or lies.

Flesh is immortal in our universe.

The soul is a bottomless purse.

Records extend to infinity

Form your creation for all to see.



A boy played in memory

A waterfall, a cave, a tree

He is his own for none to see.

The boy, now man, the place will be

A world apart, his spirit free.



We make a mold

    To set a form

We hope to hold

    A shape to norm

We know that flaws

    Will soon appear

We stop and pause

    What do we fear?



I built a castle in the sand

A fortress tall and grand.

A moat to secure and guard.

From sea and other hazard.

But grain by grain the sea did gain

And undermined my castle fair.

As I watched I could not complain

I had built my castle om air.



Take a word, any word

In its literal sense.

To misjudge its portent

May hurt beyond recompense.

The word of mouth or book

Travels the world over.

One must carefully look

The truth sans its cover.



I reached back and touched the past

The thrill was there but it didn’t last

The moment, just a moment, was given to me

That moment, no matter what, was eternity

The years rolled off, I was there to start

A beginning I had, no more, just that part.


Youth and Age walk side by side

Age tottering, youth with a glide

Youth fills a beautiful mold

Age reflects as lines unfold

The two in peace, hands entwined

Make a pattern for future, kind.



Each word a riddle

To puzzle a mind alert,

As play the strings of a fiddle

In arias or concert.

As discord or harmony

Render tunes unknown

So words are dictionary

Or futuristic sown.



When does one cease to be:

When the wild waves calm

And flow gently

When the raging fire

To coals return

When the tempests

To gentle breezes turn

When lightning and thunder

Flash then mute

When the forces of nature

Reveal the truth

The answer would be

For each

Self to know

Self to teach.



Big sat on a beam

Directing a team

A cigar in his mouth.

He bawled them out

With words so stout

He might be uncouth

Standing next to him

Very small and trim

Silently observing all

A man with just a look

Words unspoke, a book

A presence very tall.



“You’ve got it made.”

Is the cry of the poor

Born to live and 

Die on the moor.

They who want

And reach above

Theirs is a struggle

Of hate and love

What they have attained

When others have played

The poor begrudge with

“You’ve got it made.”


Hate is deep 

A way of life

Cutting ever

A keened knife.

No cure is known

For deep rooted hate

Purgatory may cleanse

In a future date.



A full stomach with little mind

Is satisfaction of a kind

No need culture or worlds to find

No need art or beauty when blind

Spirit and pride is left behind

When maw is full with little mind.



Everyone does intertwine

With strangers far and near

The strings of fate set a date

And from it do not veer.

The many that pass you by

Are somehow to you tied.

Somewhere somehow a part of you

May have stopped and died.


A store of wealth

Need not riches be

If the eye beyond

Horizon cannot see.



Problems, problems

Walk the street.

Thoughts in mind

Reflect in feet.

Fast or slow

Or hesitant

Revealing problems



Cloudy skies

Hide the sun

Make the day 

A long one

Moving clouds

A glimpse of sun

Make a day

Full of fun.



Hair unkempt

Clothes askew

Each partaking

From a brew.

Faces lined

Needing shave

Bumming cigs

Butts to save.



Nothingness men

Ending in throes.


Not now, later

Busy now,

But later never comes.

Things held 

In abeyance

Are buried

In deep tombs.



All the little ants

Are busy, busy, busy.

They run around all day 

In a tizzy, tizzy, tizzy.

If you should upset them

They’re dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.

From this lesson you learn

An ant is dizzy, busy tizzy.



One is two and one is eight

How to reconcile the breach

Yet keep the one as such for each.

One is none and two are you

None for one is none for two

If one and two are separate.


Yellow and blue make green

The color of grass

Red and white make pink

The cheeks of a bashful lass

Yellow and red make orange

Like the the fruit of an orange tree

Yellow and black make brown

The color that autumn be

Red, yellow, blue and black

Color the stars if smart you be

Then you’ll know a Zebra is

White on black or black on white

Whatever you say is right.....

            for Bruce


The tall hives that harbor the bees

Or wasps and perhaps drones

Or other sleazy dwellings

Of nodescript alones

These all comprise society

In many different tones. 

Buzzing, shrilling or silently,

A constant struggle from the start,

To end yet gowing ever

On a pyramid of bones.



Three brown shadows

Each a faceless ghost

Led by a pallid dragon,

Apparent host.

Doled each a token

Fare on the river Styx

Never a word spoken

As mist and shadows mix.



Angers flare

Words are spoke

Reason is rare

Misdeeds evoke

Use of mind

Creation of thought

Makes reason find

The peace we sought.



The hum of life is all about

The thumping drums may

Drown it out

The hum of life is purposeful

In work, joy and things useful,

The drums pound and echoes sound

Closing ears to hums around

The beaters of the drums are few

Their purpose is never new.

Each seeks to be on only god

Ruling,destroying the land of Nod.



Animals fight to eat and survive

Humans seek to destroy those alive

Animals follow nature’s law

Humans corrupt despite full maw

The saving factor in the human race

Is survival, an animal grace.



Knowledge hidden

Is knowledge lost.

The many souls

That could sup

And never empty

The cup

Are bogged down

In a morass

Of ignorance

That comes to pass.

What a waste,

What a cost.



Coffe and a bun is 25ç

I got three quarters change from a $10 bill.

I raised my voice 

In loud protest

And sent the man 

Back to the till.

He said my 10 was

On top of the ones

An error he said;

I know, robbery with

Out guns.

This seems to be

The common thing.

The guy didn’t blush

When caught on the wing.

Many people have

Walked away and paid

Many dollars for 

A cup of tay.

The storekeeper, butcher

And many more have

Shortchanged people 

By the score.

Honesty seems a thing of naught

Stealing is nothing if you don’t get caught.

The only way to avoid this vice

Call your bill loud and precise.

You can tell an honest man right away.



Big cogs plus little cogs

Make a system go

Big cogs lose little cogs

Or vice versa so

Big cogs need little cogs

How else to know

Big cogs and little cogs

Must fit to flow.


When fear the mind does stain

A little ache, a little pain

Becomes a mighty torrent.

Fear what, perhaps the unknown

A speck to a mountain blown

From where was it sent?

Knowledge, reason, facts of life

Give courage in the face of strife

And so is one’s future bent.

Doubt dissembles to powdery dust

When emotional fear is held in distrust

And the world regains its flowery scent.


Monuments built tall and grand

Beautifying an arid land

A goodness to flourish

A magnificent plan

A harbor, a haven

To a little man.

Those who thought only of good

Created a masterpiece

Of more than wood.

The silent structure

Stands bleak and tall

Its facets blurred

Its figure a scrawl.

What makes man undo his work

And step backward to caves

Where lurk

The evils and fears of yesteryears

A mass of dark, a vale of tears

Disheartening some moments may be

Not all plans will gang agley.

As the spider in the days of old

Spun and spun till victory was tolled.



A cry in the dark

A piteous meow

Needing compassion

No waiting but now.

In fleeting moments

The trip is made

The smile replaces

As fears are laid.

A peace of mind

In man and child

Rewards one who

Succors the wild. 



Pigs root in a sty

No reason why

Where ever they go

They root and so

Where a pig does lie

There’s always a sty.


The buried seeds are raising their heads

And budding forth to the sun

No more the ground trammeled hard

As the spade digs for everyone

The conqueror keeps enslaved

A world for many a year

His hand of iron is not enough

His power is only fear.

But iron rusts and falls apart

And fear becomes a cloud of mist

Then the buds become a forest of trees

Tall and stately that none can resist.



Hustle, bustle no time to stop

Hurry, scurry to get to the top

Grasping, clasping a golden weed

Holding, unfolding what indeed?


I see the grass roots

As I travel to many a place

Little hands holding grownups

And each an upturned face.

The sun shining down upon them

To warm and nurture each flower

With hope and prayer for each gem

As they seek a place in the tower.


Use your mind

And you’ll find

A melody in air

Make a time 

For each rhyme

Music’s everywhere.


Justice moves slowly

From bottom to top

Over a human mass

Its shadow does drop.

As an amoeba moving 

Its pods surround

To digest and reform

To hallow a ground.

No place sacred

If absent it be

A future is none

If it’s tyranny.


Don’t know where the time flies

When you’re busy it’s fleas

When you look into the mirror

More gray hairs one sees.

Don’t push the clock faster

My darling, darling daughter

Things made of porous plaster

Don’t last as they oughter.



One who has not

And never will

Destoys the land

He cannot till.

If he gets not 

What others have 

His conscience

He does salve.

To a minfesto 

He does turn

Blindly shouting

Burn, baby burn!



Chains and anchors

One must carry

Life is but

An endless harry

Some with grief

Some with joy

Some care not

Some talents employ

Some smile

Enjoy the chains

Others comply

With many pains

Chains and anchors

Hold the boat

From waves, storms

To stay afloat.


Roaring monsters 

On the road

Hurrying away

To some abode

Mysteries deepen

As to where

What forest

Hides their lair

Yet each kin

Perhaps a brother

Stemming from one

Earth the mother.



The mood is heavy

The clouds hang low

My spirits are down

Who is my foe?

I sit and weep

For all mankind

Why must we

To others be unkind?


Please let the sun come out again

So I can sit outdoors and plan

What will my children’s children be

I hope the branch falls not far from

The tree.


What is there to do out here?

Go to the movies for our cup of cheer?

I hate this place

It makes me crawl

To get away I’d give my all!


Why must I suffer 

In this life on earth?

Of happiness there is a dearth

There is one note of hope

On the other world I’ll

Be no dope!


Our entertainment of the day

To play some cards..hip hip hooray!

There must be more to life than this

If there isn’t at life I’ll hiss!


My hopes, my loves, my constant thrills

Are my grandchildren Bruce, Jeff, Sue and Doovidill

Still I think I should have other joys

The kind the government employs.


Arline soon will have her child

That makes three, they’ll all go wild

Hope there will be little pain

A healthy child- a veritable brain.


Ucle Izzy came today

On his way to schul to pray

That was my thrill for the day

And after that solitaire did I play.


My house in Pittsfield

Oy vayse mir

For that stupid house I pay dear.

Isgood come help me out

So I can live and shall not pout.



Head bowed low

Hands encuffed

Man in misery.

On the side

Three furies bide

Laughing with glee.

A man’s world?

Who made it so?

Who can tell

The furies dance

A twisted step

Of flames in hell.

And always man

Of woman born

Plays a part.

As the furies 

Plan and know

From the start.



Ignorance burning bright

In violence  a flaming blight

Ashes below, red skies above

Purging hate, destroying love

This cannot, should not be

If reason defies stupidity



Routine, a steady gait

Day in, day out, never late

Same pace, same way

Year in, year out, no hooray.

The green grass now gray

And life has slipped away.



Two happy people

With no care

Free as birds

Winging thru air.

A nest of twigs

With an egg therein

Then bursting shells

And mouths of din

Happy as birds?

Guess again folks

It’s only words.



At this stage of the game 

A common refrain

Covers a multitude of sin

Empty voices that complain

Are out never in.

Shells and hollow noises

Like people are the same.



I know these people

As they pass me by

A smile, a nod or

A gleam in their eye

All my friends whether

They know it or not

For humanity is love

And by love begot.



Interesting is animal man

The great I am, I do, I can

Building things, some pretty

Perversely destroying, a pity

Wonder and contemplation

Is man a bestial station.


Anywhere any place

That people can be found

Each has a different face

If you look around.

Unlike ants or busy bees

That physically conform

The humans are a species

That defy  the norm.


Cobbles, bricks and

Towers of steel

Monuments that do not feel

Made to last eons long

Maybe a soul that once did belong.


Children see no parents

In the harsh light of day

Parents are in mist or fog

And children are at play.



When a woman says she can

Take an ordinary man

And twist him round her finger

Then you’d better believe it bub.

That’s the crux of the hub

It’s trouble if you linger.



It’s lotsa fun 

To see the sun

And things

All around.

It’s lotsa fun 

To be on top

Not under ground.

No matter 

How poor I be

Or bereft

Of worldly goods,

The smell of air

At people to stare

Living is what counts

Not moods.


Home sweet home is

Not just a sign

Or words put together

To make a rhyme.

The wanderer travels

The wide world over

Not really knowing

Why he is a rover.

Foreign lands and people

Intrigue for the moment

Moving feet never still

Mind in a foment.

Finally a familiar place

Built with time

As lines on a face

Familiar sounds as

A verse in a poem

A constant refrain

Echoeing Home Sweet Home.



I awoke one day and saw

What makes life full of awe

A need to have, a need to do

A purpose, a use, fulfillment true

The day is over, a welcome rest

The need for tomorrow ends all quest.


How fast was fleeting youth

That left me old and gray

I grasped at dim shadows

But could not make them stay.

But time was kind to me

That when my work was done

It stopped so I could see

A shady rest out of the sun.


The smartest guy

In the street


People scurrying

People worrying

Not the BUM

Many look beat

Some defeat

But not the BUM

Why all the hustling

And bustling

Means nothing to the BUM.



Adam and Eve walking

Hand in hand

The apple eaten

Feeling was grand

The demon a devil

Laughing long and 


Because he did

The world becloud

With Adam and Eve’s

Walking hand in hand

So reason or not

The feeling is grand.



Around the table 

Nodding heads

Agreement or denial

Whatever the dreads

Words that tumbled

A confused mass

As drops of rain

Into a morass

Muddied the silt

In dark disorder

To sift and settle

Leaving clear water.


Will I be brave

In this land of discord

When it’s my time 

To meet the Lord

Will I be calm

As I am now

As the dusk

Settles on my every vow

For I did think

When the time would come

I’d put my best 

Face forth and then some

But now I know

Not and wonder again

In facing the Lord

Can I still be sane?


Boy when you get up

With nothing to do

And look around you

At the bees, ants or trees

or mosquitoes heckling these

You know then the general plan

Is a fire or the frying pan.



What do we do 

On a holiday

Go away and sit

The toils and

Troubles of


Need an offset

I say just sit.

One does not,

Need not play.

There is only 

One way

We sit.

If you think 

Of another way

Tell me tomorrow

Not today

I’ll sit.


The disapproving look

Of an old gazook

Eyeing a miniskirt

Gives vent to a frown.

Upon looking down

At what might hurt,

I think of a facade

A wood or steel rod

Behind which is dirt.



Hop, skip, jump

Whirl dolly

By the heel.

Swing around

With no care

Only joy a

Child can feel.

Adult limps and

Bears the load

Cares and woes

Him ever goad.

Child and joy

Should always be

If adult

Remembers memory.



Busy is as busy does

And the head is bended low.

If the eyes do not rise

To see why it is so.

Then those of us with no fuss

Should ponder on this thought

That everyone should have fun

Or life is but an aught.



Jungle is anywhere

When people do not care

People ruin and destroy

In morbid or sadistic joy

A few rise above the herd

Save the world with “A WORD’.



Should I grow old

And off my mind

Should I wander 

Or go blind

Don’t shed tears

Or be kind

The path I

Alone must take

I’ll find.


Call me simple

What have I done

Not a world beater

And yet I’m a one

I am a world

I am a god

I’m immortal

I’m not a clod

I have continued

From long ago

I’ll pass on

Whatever I know

I’ll never be gone

And part of me

Will reach in future

And again I’ll be.



As I sit with hands enfold

I watch others do as told

I have no purpose or pursuit

The others march with heavy boot

Each day as the one before

’Till dust ends a lonely score.


What now the rain that pours

And keeps us all indoors

And skies that cloud all day

The sun? no one can say

So one must wait and hope

Not sit but do, not mope.



Another one has gone

With all his memories

Has left behind a thought

Was his,a life, an aught?

No man or weed is alone

Maybe his seed can atone

‘Tis but a chapter, no more

And again, another door.


Strings that bind

Are strings of a kind

That never let loose in life

Made of subtle threads

A soul it weds

To others than a wife.

Many the strings do hold

Are never strong or bold

To sever strings with knife.

Soon does come the day

And all who toil and play

Find peace at end of strife.



Memories are happy days

Pleasant mixed up times

A youth of many ways

A thread that ever binds

Pictures on the wall of life

To enjoy and reminisce

Children follow the piper’s fife

In innocence and happy bliss.



With age the scales do fall

And eyes do see in memory.

How clear now, what once had been

A cloudy mist of fantasy.

To know, to do, there was no thought

Just emotional chaos, a stormy sea

The winds of time do clear the skies

And show what had to be.

But to recall the words and scenes

Does not change life’s mystery.


What we have is nothing

If we share it not

Song, music, happiness

And whatever we’ve got

Has no point or purpose

If we hoard it all.

That state of being

Belongs to a forlorn soul.

Man is made to live and

Share his worldly goods

Or he becomes a lonely beast

Hungrily roaming the woods.



Moments of silence

Door slightly ajar

Will it fully open

Or how far?

But not yet

Time stands still

A blank, no more

Was there someone

Behind tha door?

No, not yet.

No sound then

Creation exploded

Slammed the door

I was excluded

Finis, not yet.


Worldly cares one

Cannot take

‘Tis heavy burden,

One can break.


Many try with

Sword or pen

To bleed or thwart

Again and again.

Conflict is the 

Essence of being

All else is

An eye unseeing.



‘Tis sure

Forever can be

If not all

A part of me

That I send winging

Into space

Thus man forever

The human race.



Is time my own

When my work is done

Can I then relax

And bask in the sun

No more worry

Cares or woe

I dream my dreams

But it isn’t so.


Poetry, prose or song

Thoughts as we go along

Paths the fates decree

Question, what does one see?



Words are penned to thoughts secure

Nests are made then thoughts mature

All plans glow in thoughts brochure

Sun or clouds cover thoughts allure.



The winter in one’s life

Plays a role of joy and strife

The cover of pure white snow

Beautifies a rutted row

Underneath lines are there

Tripping those unaware.



When one stops and looks around

Be it soon or later

With great surprise he will have found

That he is a spectator

Of a world in never ending parades

Of machines and men and ghosts,

Of movements and changes, of many charades

Be they guests or passing hosts.

But no one really stops for long

A pause  perhaps, so it seems.

The march is short in such a throng

And ends up in a world of dreams.


A woman with her head held high

Walking proudly, stepping spry

The man, dressed in tattered clothes

Beaten, bull ring in his nose.

The woman, leader, so it seems

The man, swills liquor in his dreams.

The woman regretfully  doling  coin

To the man, merely a loin.

Man and woman, for better or worse

The Garden of Eden, to whom the curse?



Happy go lucky

So why to cry

Mead and food

Always nearby

Comforts yes

No need to guess

Tomorrow fear

Today is here.



Tiny snowflakes

From sky overcast

Grow and grow

Till by and by

Great snowflakes

Cover the earth

Muting sounds

Of grief and mirth

A white blanket

Esncompassing all

In last, final

Curtain call.



Two touched

    Then veered away

        As the winds of fate

            With them did play

                Seeds were sown  

                    In foreign soil

                        Flourishing with

                            Love and toil.

Maybe two would

    Touch again

        And winds would cease

            If fate would deign.



The door is closed

I tried to knock

There is no answer

But the clock tick tock.

The door was glass

I could see through

But eyes I had

Only for you.

The lights did dim

As all lights do,

But the door and clock

Seemed ever new.

And yet I know

The door will ope

‘T   is ever so

For one with hope.