What can you say
out there in the fog
in want of your old flame
you burnt your last log.

The memories are hot
the pain you remember
beneath all the ashes
that last glowing ember.

Don't bother to fan it
there's no fuel to burn
let it go out
save the ash for the urn.

Turn your attention
to the wood
that needs chopping
do something worthwhile
like sweeping and mopping

Sweep out the soot
and mop up your tears
clean out the attic
let go of your fears

Put on the blues
then something upbeat
get on your warm clothes
walk out to the street

Follow it down
to the steaming creek bed
the mineral water
is something it's said

Melts away saddness
and heats up your head
without all the smoke
without all the dread

Don't need a fire
the water is good
cleans away everything
and better than wood

The Word is water
still living and true
all that you need
all that you do

Lie back in the warmth
pulled free from the mire
be free and be healed
and forever on fire

About that starting lineup,
well I think I missed the gun
but just as well
took off for other places~
I longed for mountains majesty
and all those things I hoped to see,
while others stayed
and loved familiar faces.

Some married and they bore their young,
or college-bound for work and fun
or tragedy,
well sometimes God just loses me~
The question of my failure
to connect with just one sailor,
what the heck, but strangely so,
it still amuses me.

I ponder of a hope,
that it's still possible,
within your scope,
and grateful for eleventh hour breakthroughs~
Still don't get what you wrote to me,
I bungled at the spelling bee,
you say the thing I'll get, is what I choose?

My mind it travels to and fro,
the world it feeds the input though,
and we must press the whey out from the curds~
And so I speak in vagaries,
of things to come which I can't see
but speak into reality,
if only by my words.

The power of the word,
to mezmerize and heal the hurt,
your eyes are beautiful
they've looked into my soul~
The wonder of your gaze,
it touches places, Dear,
I'd rather not be writing of,
our love, like epic poetry,
too much to share in whole.

Okay, skimming is like cheating
and why bother to pretend?
so you can say you've read the book,
a mad rush to the end!

Best to start a few
and this, exactly what I do
if you can hack it, don't attack it
read the back and jacket too.

I start in on the chapter list
and read it 'til I've got the gist,
a nice prologue and introduction
if omitted, sorely missed.

I take the words and read 'em over
what was meant I try to gleen
and if no message is encoded
then what did the author mean?

I'll do the same on every page
until I understand, or age
and when I'm satisfied
unless I've died, I'll go and turn the page.

I will continue on that course
unless the author beats his horse
and gives me every reason just to
end it there without remorse.

but if I'm thoroughly engaged
and my boredom not enraged
I must admit I've skimmed a chapter
in the crapper for the aged.

and if I make it to the chase
which has rarely been the case
I will mark it, and then park it
to allow it proper place.

The End

Your memory serves you
but mine is so lame
it bothers you still
so please tell me again

Who stole your lunchbox
who smashed your new toy
who failed to hug you
when you were a boy
who broke your heart and
who chipped your front tooth
who sapped your energy
who took your youth
who who who who

and who didn't choose you for kickball that day
who left you stranded to walk all that way
who took your Christmas and
who stole your pride
who locked the door and
who left you outside in the rain

What is was the
the reason you
you must take the shame
tell it to get off your back
just the same
let out the anger
and cut loose the pain
grab onto LOVE, baby
Run from this city of blame!

who wasn't there when you needed him so
who made you clean up and shovel the snow
Who was a meany and
who was a grinch
who took a mile when you gave him an inch
who who who who

and who said "I Do"
with their ******* crossed
who dumped you for someone
way better but sauced
who bought you a burger
but wanted much more
who took your hopes
and your dreams to the floor

What is was the
the reason you
you must take the shame
tell it to get off your back
just the same
let out the anger
and cut loose the pain
grab onto LOVE, baby
Run from this city of blame!

who robbed your innocence
who stole your crown
promised the moon
and took off at sundown
the memories haunt us
though we may forgive
forgetting is hard
'cuz it is what it is
we'll do this together
when they're all around
chalk it all up
to the past
and then get outta town!

What is was the
the reason we
you must take the shame
tell it to get off our backs
just the same
let out the anger
and cut loose the pain
grab onto LOVE
and then run from this city of
blame
hold onto each other and
RUN from the city of blame
leave all our baggage
and run from this city of blame.

through Your eyes
I am magnified
through Your eyes
all the best and all the worst
and in between
and in the quiet places waiting
You could hear me when I cried
in the darkest times relating
understanding what's inside

through Your eyes
every dark and desperate move
and all the lies
and all the places I've been in
though a sin
but you're a real and present savior
and blesser of my sneeze
and so here I am Lord, once again
asking on my knees

Through your eyes
just see me through this storm
and be my guide,
I can't really see through
to the other side
only you,
You know currents
and the depth of every tide
and you promised to be with me
and i know you've never ever lied

and in the smallest seed of faith
you see the tree it will become
you're making something out of nothing
chose the lowly and the ***
and if my trusting you
is foolish
than I'd rather be that too
than pretend I'm strong and wise enough
to make it without you.

and then when my little faith is tested
when I'm down here in the deep
when it's getting late
and I can't wait
you help me get to sleep.
and when I fall down you are with me
like you fell down with that cross
and you lift the burden
from my back
and help me with the sauce
and with the words all wrong
you show me
just how to wrap it up
and you meet all my needs
bring me right through the weeds
Dear God that I'll see
through your eyes.

I'm keepin' all these things inside
yet saying so, guess I can't hide
but you don't really need to know
so what's to talk about?

It's early to bed and early to rise
and what I keep back, well that's no big surprise
just one less thing I'm offering
the world to have to think about

and better for you that I've saved you the time
and kept 'em as drafts 'cause they're privately mine
I'm not always open though often I find
in my heart that I'm secretly smitten

but who really cares what I've got on my plate
and whose-it said what about whats-her-name's mate
and before I can write it, yesterday's news
and the views, none are wise that I've written

so I'll pick out a few since I can't take no mo
and read all you've got, like you're some kind of show
a daily soap opera I'd rather not miss
save the kiss and the bliss or be dissin

And though YouTube is boobery still I can choose
what I'd rather be hearing without any dues
if I need a good cry, I can tune into blues
and bawl my eyes out or just listen

Hang onto your hat, you can meet me for lunch
I'm easy, but don't getyour briefs in a bunch
it's true and I know that I rarely say much
but somehow I make myself clear

Just give me a call, you can drop me line
I'm better in person when feeling quite fine
my knickers are twisted, at times in a pinch,
I'm a ***** but I'll always be near

I'll wrap up this poem with a quaint little line
it's good to say nothin' with so little time
then maybe the words that I use though they rhyme
will be ones that your wanting to hear

or not.

Captured there in orange
beneath the old street light
a cloud of breath exhaled
hangs heavy in the night.

Waiting on the 409
has never been this bleak
the fierce wind nips your ear lobe
and ice cold stings your cheek.

I watch you turn your collar up
your back against the bite
one hand on that coffee cup
the other out of sight.

Each morning
getting colder
the forecast is for snow
in fleece and wool you face the frost
and how I'll never know

I see you’re green
my blue faced friend
the green before the fall
you've never been about the perks
it's conscience above all.

The last thing on your mind just now
would be to get a Lynx
traffic is lame
road rage insane
And air pollution stinks.

Don't EVEN get you started
on the SUV
spews out nitrous oxide
and guzzles Texas tea.

Public parking,
another rare find
for what you get,
they rob you blind.

and what they miss
the vandal takes
leave you with migranes
the car alarm makes.

better for all
we all take the train
or one car per family
'stead of one car per brain.

Watching you stand there
with ice crystals forming
I despise all your stubborness
you NEED global warming!

I know you're no girly
my Ever-Ready mate
but my Duracel is waiting
and the 409 is late

I get out of my car
and approach you from the rear
my work cut out, without a doubt
the ice lymric is near

poetic license pending
I call for a herione's ending
like a frozen filet, without word or delay
I can lift you without even bending.

Once inside and thawing
you start in about the gas
I turn down the heat,
but turn up the seat
that's warming up your ****.

I'm all for the planet, I tell ya
and doing whatever is best
but for mornings like these
with your jewels in deep freeze
come with and we'll heat up the Quest!

Her house was on the way
and from the porch she'd wave hello
she'd be sweeping every day
but now the dirt began to show

Then I saw it on the front page
that her family had no clue
and were offering a ransom
for the whereabouts of Sue

I wondered what had become of her?

they boarded up each window
and they nailed shut the door
of the house where Sue had lived though
just a coupl'a weeks before

And who could hardly blame me
for then wanting friendship's closure
better yet, if I could maybe
somehow aid in Sue's exposure

But whatever had become of her?

I made it my intention then
to help them in their need
for to find a missing loved one
surely is a worthy deed

One day at dusk I wandered
up her front walk, heart in tow
closed my eyes and deeply pondered
were I Sue, where would I go?

Whatever had become of her?

The brightly colored awnings there
had faded over time
and the swing which kept it's secrets
now was caked in soot and grime

though the front steps creaked apologies
the porch was less than kind
and it swallowed this unwelcome guest
and left a hole behind

Would I discover what had become of her?

although there was no body
dead beneath the porch that night
It was down inside that darkened mess
I thought I'd seen the light

and lying there upon my back
recovering my breath
I figured maybe Sue had had
a sweeping brush with death

What on Earth had become of her?

and grabbing for my cellphone
well I dialed 911
I just knew that Sue was resting now
where dialing is not done

and that she was in a 'better place'
than anyone could see
otherwise the swing above my face
would surely be dirt free

What in Heaven had become of her?

Well I broke it to the family
told them not to be depressed
said "she's made it to a better place"
but they were not impressed

I tried another angle,
told them Sue was very blessed
but they billed me for the porch repair
and sued me for the rest

So then, what else could have become of her?

I could not make my argument
but pled the guilty plea
I understood their pain and let
the burden fall on me

Still I'd wondered what became of her
and where she laid her last
and was I right in my conviction  
that the ghost of Susan passed?

and was I wrong to tell the family what I figured had become of her?

And then one day, It happened
Sue had surfaced in Toledo
she had gone to meet a relative
who's name was Cousin Vito.

And she'd fallen for the butcher there
who owned a nice estate
and it was there they made their fortune
putting meat on every plate

Sue!

The folks back home eare stunned
that ol' front porch sweeping Sue
whom the gentlemen had shunned  
would find love again, who knew?

So I was right then all along
that a 'better place' would do
a home with love and laughter
and a path to sweep with Rue

where her front porch welcomes everyone
with a swing which carries two
Toledo's bestest butcher
Who was swept away by Sue!

And that is what became of her!

In the Summer of Love
I was just a young dove
but for all my eight years
it was all I thought of
and he slipped me a note
just a sentence or two
with my name and the words
"I Love You".

and I thought it was sweet
see I knew him from Pete
a mutual friend,
we all played in the street
and I never would think
that he'd give me a wink
less a note with the
words "I Love You."

Well I tucked it away
in my pocket that day
and I smiled at the boy  
and said "Hey, let's go play"
But the recess bell rang
and I thought then, "Oh Dang",
since his classroom was one door away.

I never did kiss
that olive-skinned guy
with the ***** blond hair
that hung over his eye
I'd fallen for John
and I guess he moved on
and we parted
without a goodbye.

Many years later
I'd think about Glen,
that first little crush
the paper and pen
the thought and the hand
that bothers to write
with intent
and the courage
to send.

And one day by chance
I sat in a chair
entrusting a stranger
with all of my hair
she pulled through the cap
the strands to be bleached
and though it was painful
they had to be reached.

I asked for her name
and discovered, the same
as the boy I had liked,
my childhood flame
I made the mistake
of informing the goat
the wife of the boy,
about one little note.

And never you mind
she pulled my hair blind
I don't think I've ever
run into her kind.
And the moral I say
and my very hairs pray
"please leave your old love notes behind!"

In the Summer of Love
I was just a young dove
but for all my eight years
it was all I thought of

The beast from the East took my breath but then ceased
when I ran towards the best from the Wast;
it was there that I met and I'll never regret
the Mouth from the South and his guest.

The North would be fourth, I'd be lying of course
if I said He was less than a blast;
We weather the storms from all headings, all forms
but that Old Man's the first and the last.