The Two Hundred Seventy Third, September 30, 2011

the best laid plans
never work anyway
too many variables
life gets in the way

unexpected changes
keep things interesting
but please remember
that is not always good

chaotic havoc ensues
topsy turvy bustle
hurry here and there
trying to be in place

finally understanding
I am where I am
its where I should be
plans can be wrong

enjoy the moment you are in

The Two Hundred Seventy Second, September 29, 2011

hello once more
my dear old friend
so nice of you to vist
though you really leave

you fill my mind
never straying far
always staying with me
every moment of my day

I have surrendered
no longer to oppose
it seems forever stuck
with a monkey on my back

confusion dear confusion
how you make a mess of me
so long have you directed
so confused I have found clarity

The Two Hundred Seventy First, September 28, 2011

A Hymn for Detroit

complex vast diversity
city flaunting glitz and glamor
gleaming in bright sunshine
glittering in harsher neon

no time to slow down
just watch the pretty people play
no time for any sleep
party like you have no cares

this is the place to be
the streets flowing with life blood
illusions of good times
all this make believe prosperity

don't turn your head
look only at the pretty lights
don't turn your head
pretend you can't see or hear
don't turn your head
the reality is cold and harsh

a bastion of higher learning
educating those young minds
seeking to fix things
make the world a better place

don't look over there
homeless sleeping on a bench
in the middle of it all
a different kind of education

walk down the street
with student apartments scattered
vacant lots beside them
campgrounds for the poor


don't turn your head
look only at the pretty lights
don't turn your head
pretend you can't see or hear
don't turn your head
the reality is cold and harsh


the other side of the city
seen in the cold harsh light of day
empty skeletons revealed
evidence of destroyed dreams

first you sold your dignity
then you gave away all honor
corrupting even your pride
making hope a false dream

many will call you dead
give you up as a lost cause
pointing to your decay
calling out your failed leadership

you are not dead at all
there is still much life in you
you are very gravely ill
the prescriptions aren't working

gangrene running rampant
where neighborhoods once thrived
poisoning the future generations
offering nothing but despair

infections haunt your halls
diseases like corruption and greed
stealing away your visions
your life sold for personal gain

lift up your head again
call out with a loud voice once more
lift up your head again
let the world know you still live
lift up your head again
stand proud and straight and tall

rise up once more dear city
shake off the negativity you wear
listen to your heart again
it is time to regain your life

do not fear to exercise
burn away the fat that slows you
restore your corridors of commerce
re tone the atrophied limbs 

celebrate your heritage
no place else will ever be like you
the story of your life is grand
it is not time for obituaries


lift up your head again
call out with a loud voice once more
lift up your head again
let the world know you still live
lift up your head again
stand proud and straight and tall

The Two Hundred Seventieth, September 27, 2011

small thin cylinder
just a white tube
sharp glowing ember
acrid bite of smoke

once you were my lover
my world revolved around you
I craved your harsh kiss in my morning
needed it at night so I could sleep

I see you now
with new lovers
corrupting them
as you once did me

I can finally see you now
can see at last what you truly are
my personal addiction to destruction
silently destroying all that I am

this will not be
I cast you away
living life free
my life is my own

The Two Hundred Sixty Ninth, September 26, 2011

it's football season
yes, it's finally here
throw out the diet
and grab more beer

order the pizza
open some chips
no time for salsa
don't need the dips

the summer is past
no more waiting
time to get loud
and start tailgating

I wish research was this much fun

The Two Hundred Sixty Eighth, September 25, 2011

oh how I hate allergies
clogging the passages
stopping up the nose
defeating sense of smell

now the medication comes
smell the pretty flowers
waiting for the clearing
only those silly flowers

walking past bakeries
knowing what is gone
no fresh bread for me
only those silly flowers

fresh coffee in the cup
watching the steam rise
not a trace do I get
only those silly flowers

eventually it works
the world opens up
aromas now assail me
standing beside a dumpster

just the way my luck goes some days

The Two hundred Sixty Seventh, September 24, 2011

gently march the shadows tall
across the sun drenched sward
easing the brilliant verdant green
softening the day as night draws near
where does the tension of the day fade to
as the sun sinks low in the sky
the peace of twilight's subdued colors
leaching energy from the world
guiding it toward sleep
I care not where such anxieties go
only that they trouble me no more
that my mind may rest and find peace yearned for
to make new once more that tomorrow
waiting patiently in the wings
waiting it's turn to take the stage
its act in life's play to complete
until the curtain goes down once more
in the gentle march of the shadows tall
across the sun drenched sward

The Two Hundred Sixty Sixth, September 23, 2011

and so I sit once more
contemplating the words
still echoing in the past
waiting for her return

she comes to me quietly
a shadow that fades away
when ever I turn to see
a glimpse nothing more

the muse is a mystery
never one to be tamed
living by her own rules
always a welcome guest

never answering a call
there when she wishes
filling a certain need
only she can understand

I love and hate her
all in the same breath
for the inspiration given
and the long wait for it

perhaps it is just me
and I do not need muse
perhaps it is my crutch
but I won't push my luck

thank you for coming
to rescue me once more
a center for my focus
letting the words flow free

The Two Hundred Sixty Fifth, September 22, 2011

A Tribute to  Alyce Joyce (Sally)

To every life there comes a time
To let go of things we love
Opening the hands that hold
Giving the freedom longed for

Heavy hearts remain behind
Filled with sorrow at the loss
Filled with love that survives
Filled with hope of reuniting

Sometimes a life grows long
The valiant spirit begins to tire
The dreams of youth passed by
Now only wishing to go home

We living mourn the passing
Losing a part of our hearts
Feeling an empty place form
This we must let go as well

Hollows have a purpose also
They are a place to be filled
They are there to hold close
Keeping precious memories

Fill your heart with happiness
Let it wash the sorrow from you
Until only the joy of life remains
Knowing they will never leave

Tired and weary is the spirit
Seeking to finally have peace
Rest well with your Maker
Find your place at last, Dear Soul

Thank you for your living
Making the world sweeter
Because you shared your heart
To those who needed you

May you find your Rest and Peace in Paradise.

The Two Hundred Sixty Fourth, September 21, 2011

what is success
what is greatness
how will we know
when we get there

is success money
or power and fame
is it having everyone
remember your name

none of the above
define them to me
those selfish endeavors
make one small

greatness lies within
and leads to success
by being something more
than all about ME

the greatest people
smile in the morning
at the face in the mirror
looking back at them

success is being there
when someone needs
and caring for the ones
that no else one wants

success is stepping up
defending everyone's right
to think and feel as they wish
even those you oppose

success is raising a child
who sees beauty and love
and wants to pass it along
rather than whine for more

greatness is in the giving
reaching deep inside
sharing the what that you are
giving a part of you

they come from others
when they think of you
and smile at the memories
knowing you mattered

wealth is not success
when measured by mass
materialistic scales by man
of gold or silver or land

wealth is measured
in all those around us
the warmth of their smiles
and how we touched them

live life to the fullest
relishing what matters
all those that share with us
the path we call life

The Two Hundred Sixty Third, September 20, 2011

how do you pay forward
all the things done for you
those kindnesses shown
mercies that came your way

do you stand out front
shouting loudly for all
COME AND SEE ME
seeking personal praises

do you play it bashful
hiding behind another
not wishing to be seen
wanting only to be helpful

are you loud against it
calling such things foolish
sneaking around to help
making sure no one sees

there are some who say
it needs done just right
or it is for selfish ends
as though there are rules

does the receiver care
what motivates kindness
does it make the debt less
less to pay ahead themselves

I do not think this is true
the debt remains the same
for every kindness garnered
at least one must be given

the gift is never lessened
by the actions of the one
the karma is hie reward
as less will come his way

if you do not wish to give
then do not accept from others
and soon you can be alone
living in your own world

I choose to pay forward... how about you

The Two Hundred Sixty Second, September 19, 2011

I have a little question
that's been troubling me today
is it alright to be crazy
and is it insane to be OK?

and does it really matter
what someone calls you in the end
can it be as important
as who considers you their friend?

if standing on my head
turns the world all topsy turvy
doesn't that just prove
that it does revolve around me?

I really tried hard today
to find some sanity deep within
but once more I was lost
with out a clue where to begin

I think I sort of like that
being considered off the wall
making life less boring
in fact I'm having quite a ball

The Two Hundred Sixty First, September 18, 2011

moving along
going strong
push it forward
making the move

feeling good
set the pace
keep it going
feel it pop

pain explodes
stabbing through
knee gives out
ending the day

it felt good
right up until
now crutches
I hate growing old

The Two Hundred Sixtieth, September 17, 2011

kindness is a gift
given and received
the freer the better
yet never owned

try to hold it
and it fades away
lock it in a safe
and it will be gone

simply give it away
you will never lack
the more you proffer
the more you find

this is true value
more so than gold
your worth grows
by keeping none

giving love away
to stray puppies
has filled my heart
with their love

wake up Wall Street
here is the truth
the only investment
that really matters

and the best type of bail out EVER!

The Two Hundred Fifty Ninth, September 16, 2011

there is a place
a perfect place
a private place
it is MY place

inside my mind
I have a home
where it all fits
it makes sense

it's a happy place
warm and sunny
with balmy breezes
soft gentle waves

too bad it's lost
it seems misplaced
it was pushed aside
by cold reality

stress is the foe
pressing in on me
forcing wakefulness
stealing my dreams

I know that its there
that wonderful place
still hidden inside
tucked safely away

it needs to be found
taken from mothballs
restored to the light
rescuing my sanity

I doubt even CSI could rescue that.....

The Two Hundred Fifty Eighth, September 15, 2011

I was just recently asked
was I losing my memory
I can't remember by whom
I have no idea why they asked

I think I remembered my
what was it I needed
but I have whatever it was
I put it right over there

did I mention to you yet
that some one was asking
only just the other day
was I losing my memory

now where did I put that
what is it called again
oh well never mind
it will turn up again soon

I miss my mind, where ever I left it....

The Two hundred Fifty Seventh, September 14, 2011

one of life's great pleasures
is found in the simple nap
granting the body a rest
letting the mind unravel

the warm gentle peace
of such a blissful escape
letting the pressures fade
finding relaxation at last

cannot be for too long
the world will not wait
we need to get back to it
but oh for a moment...

I need a nap right about now.... again

The Two Hundred Fifty Sixth, September 13, 2011

I have a very dear friend
hard to believe I know
her story asks a question
no one wants to address

she is trying to recover
following heart surgery
it is not going very well
she struggles each day

bills take all her money
weakness drains her too
unable to do very much
self-esteem taken away

wondering every morning
if today is her last day
will she have more life
ever able to live it again

television adds insult
floating across the screen
the face of Dicky appears
her tax dollars at work

She struggles for treatments
he has all the best care
she can't make appointments
he has doctors come to him

she has not shot a friend
she did not begin any wars
only supported a nation
that is turning their back

we conveniently forget
those that need our help
wounded veterans, the poor
lost children, and homeless

where are the priorities now
that hypocrisy becomes law
care only for the wealthy
providing for their greed

compassion is left behind
the charge of those who care
typically poor themselves
yet they can still find ways

shame upon the narrow
the greed filled and blind
who only seek their pleasures
missing the real point of life

I will pray for my friend
giving the hope that I can
knowing how she struggles
as I cry at the injustice of greed

The Two Hundred Fifty Fifth, September 12, 2011

The question I'm asked all the time
is why is it my poems don't rhyme
the answer is easy you see
that style doesn't appeal to me

I speak the thoughts in my mind
which are often quite hard just to find
if you look just to find the measure
you will certainly miss the treasure

chaotic eruption of thought
feelings explode into words
images composed in the mind
flashes of insight beyond intent

deeper meanings reveal themselves
hidden away beneath the surface
most unintended when written
subconscious message to conscious

this is a secret I freely will share
the meanings I didn't put there
reveal things even to me
that I didn't imagine to be

messages mixed between the minds
the private speaks to the public
amazing the hand that wrote them
too productive to be an accident

a new revelation on the journey....

The Two Hundred Fifty Fourth, September 11, 2011

first comes the weight
feet and legs of lead
then the rest follows
the body starts to fight

icy hot chills and sweat
unable to get warm
unable to cool down
shaking from the chills

sneezes and coughs
with nose too plugged
your only breathing
is wheezing gasps

temperature climbs
eyes won't stay open
but still you can't sleep
colds are sheer torture