so I’m still Standing
under the sun.
still Standing,
sometimes it feels
like I’m the last one.

Sometimes I feel
there’s a place in this world
where all of you
have gone.
Sometimes I feel
that I’ll see you again,
and then that feeling
moves on.

In the sun.
just Standing,
now it feels
I’m the last one.

Sometimes my thoughts
return to the time
that we have shared
in the past.
Sometimes my thoughts
linger a bit
sweetly as long
as they last.

Don’t need to tell you,
to explain myself.
I know that
it’s understood.
Don’t need to plead,
to justify.
My heart is righteous
and good.

yea, I’m still standing,
in the warmth of the sun.
still standing,
but it feels
like I’m the last one.

Sometimes memories
drift through my days
or visit me
in my dreams.
Sometimes they
bring us together again,
at least that’s the way
that it seems.

Told me one time
a thing about me
that I needed
to hear.
Told me a little
about myself,
that I had
nothing to fear.

I am still standing,
under the sun.
It feels
I’m the last one.


Culling Drone


The prideful King Mahn
summoned his Jester,
wearing his crown jewels,
and wrapped in a sable.
With goblet of muscadin
to temper the woofits,
and the mirth of a Jester
for prank or a fable.
Culling Drone

King Mahn bellowed with laughter
at the bourde of his Jester:
“Village of idiots buying,
Leasing-monger sells.
They hobble their horses
and poison their orchards.
Toll their bells with their foreheads,
and piss in their wells!”
Culling Drone

Said the red-faced King Mahn,
eyes tearing with laughter:
“Pray tell thee another!”
with a chortling moan.
But the Jesters’ voice lowered
as he spoke of the kingdom:
“Tis the Jargogle Zwodder
of the Culling Drone.”
The Culling Drone
Culling Drone

“Good Mother Earth
has become irritated,
and rung a vibration
to summon the rats,
who crawl from their holes,
whispering in sleeping ears
of men who, awake,
don’t recognize facts.”

The silent King Mahn’s
Jester chastened:
“Good Mother Earth
has put forth her tone.
The path of the kingdom
better had straighten,
or the kingdom will fall
to the Culling Drone.”
Culling Drone

Bad Father Viper
Has come to plunder
And he doesn’t care
If it’s from his kin
Hoeing a row
The length of the kingdom
Seeded with lies
To enrich him
Bad Father Viper
Bad Father Viper

Culling Drone…


Airplane Dreams

Two jets merged proximities
Distant, but visible to each other
Ones’ mechanical failure
And its focused, futile response


Yea, we’re at twenty-six thousand feet
We are in a vertical dive

Two jets merged proximities
Distant, but visible to each other
Ones’ mechanical failure
And its focused, futile response


361, we’re at twenty-four thousand feet
Trying to stabilize

Two jets merged proximities


Yea, he hit the water
He’s now down

Distant, but visible to each other

I’d say, he, uh…

Home again

Definitely in a nose down, um…



Natural Light

My darling ones
we’re not afraid
of distant thunder
across the plain.
The day gone black
above us forms
a gathering of
the perfect storm.

A crackling  bolt
of lightning hits.
The planets’ tinder
now is lit.
Downslope wind
brings no rain,
scatters embers,
and fans the flames.

Screens glowing with
devoured whole
Masses nod
and duly rise
and plot a course
to their demise.

Their headlights pass,
an endless line
towards glowing orange
In a black sky.
But darlings we’ll
endure this night
And reach the morning’s
Natural Light


Oh precious ones
alone it seems,
we shed no tears
for dead machines.
No binary in
the fibers’ light,
no digital pox,
or social blight.

We huddle masked
our little tribe,
with gratitude
to be alive.
With curtains drawn
sealed from the night,
whispered prayers
by candlelight.

The hatred shown
by those we knew,
spreading lies,
rumors too.
Lost in winter.
Long in night.
But our days grow
with Natural Light


Tho we see things
we’ve a common
Carrion prey
on our discord,
reap the windfall
of the war.
We know the way
we’re meant to be:
and decency.
The love we show
the way we should.
The way we see
the common good.


Eyes open now
squint in the light.
A new day
born of night.
A passing mirror
glimpse is shown
a price drawn
more than known.

We view ourselves
unlike the way
others see thru
our display.
In direct light
we see clear.
Dimly lit,
truth disappears.

Choice to seek light,
a will to know,
like moths drawn to
a lanterns’ glow.
The sacred shine
from stained glass souls
Into night flows.

My kiddos fair,
in springtime sun,
now begun.
In a meadow rich
with varied life
we step into
Natural Light



They took to the road with a map and a stash
and stoned at a truck stop, paused for a break.
Wore scalloped mirror bug-eyed reflective sunglasses,
Bought donuts and coffee to keep them awake.

They’d stumbled out with idiot laughter
But back on the road the smiles turned to pouts
As two silenced brothers reached for cold coffee
and French swirl donuts congealed in their mouths.


Signs for free 5 pound steaks if eaten in an hour
started appearing in southern Illinois,
thru Missouri, Oklahoma, into Amarillo, Texas,
home of the lone star and hungry cowboys.

Onward they drove as the dry plain expanded
With mesas and storm cloud mountains revealed.
Thru the desert to Tucson, their destination,
with the bond of a brotherhood forever sealed.


The years rolled on by and the hairlines receded.
One grew a gut and one a bum knee.
A continent spread out between the two brothers
still resonating on the same frequency.

Two parents smile down with loving approval
Send laughter and warmth from the great beyond.
Whisper their names in the breeze when it’s blowing,
and beam like the sun at the two brothers’ bond.


Two Brothers

First brother set the house on fire,
licking flames dancing higher.
Second brother rose to run
when he seen what he had done.

But he stood there transfixed
at what he had just witnessed.
Sparks swirled and scattered round them,
thinking ‘bout the blood that bound them.

Second brother then heard
First brother say these words:
“Now the reason you’ll learn,
did it just to see it burn.”


Second brother brushed the ashes
Shook his coat and wiped his glasses
Took a bottle, poured a drink.
Said “I need some time to think.”

First brother sat next to the other.
They had a drink and then another.
By night’s end with the rising sun,
they both knew what had to be done.

Out they stepped into the morning
And without a word of warning
Second brother took his turn,
He lit a house, they watched it burn.



My generation, born of the greatest,
coming of age to a dark bells toll.
Idealism, a flower in a gun barrel,
entrusted with the national soul.

My generation deployed to rock and roll
and fought in a jungle at seventeen.
And when it was over, returned to a country
had no idea of what we had seen.

My generation watched as a president
betrayed the trust and was held to account.
We saw the same thing, the truth was apparent.
There’s no other way, the leader was out.


My generation settled into easy living.
Got older and so far from our youth.
Once had a hunger, now got whatever.
We search for the remote, not for the truth.

My generation split like a tree trunk,
bought into charlatans hate filled lies.
Soon it was brother turned against brother.
Common ground lost, goodwill died.

My generation now sickened and sun-blind,
once entrusted with the national soul,
will pass on the flame, turn over the keys,
and fade away, disgraced and old.

Fade away, disgraced and old.



Born into a family, fifth of five.
We lived beneath the same roof for some time.
Then one by one we began dispersing,
and the last departure then was mine.
We set off for school, jobs and families,
with spouses and children of our own.
Now the passing of seasons dim memories
of a family, together, long ago.

They wed on a Baltic summer afternoon.
One year later the three of them were gone.
Westward heading, they began their journey,
sailing off into the unknown.
The path they shared then began to widen,
and one day it split into two lanes.
And tho they all traveled on together,
it never would return to one again.

Soon from the other side, will you hear me
when I play a passage meant to move?
Now my notes linger with sadness
as I de-tune and lose the groove.

Both of you were born on a Monday,
and from the first day you did things your way.
I watched you grow and become you,
and with your mother, helped you on your way.
Took such pride as you came of age.
My soul’s put at peace to see you two.
And now, tho you live in another place,
I never do feel apart from you.

Soon from the other side, will you hear me
when I play in a certain style?
And when there is a moment in your daydreams,
may the specter of my face look upon you with a loving smile.


A Prodigal Son

I walked thru their door,
I stepped into the night.
With the home-light burning I didn’t look back.
I drove thru the night
into the morning sun,
down a ribbon of highway, never did look back.
I tried to reason with him.
I tried to calm and still her.
To show the sense of doing it my way.
I had no answer for them,
had no explanation
for why I couldn’t consider what they say.
Words lovingly delivered to me
never were accepted.
Disregarding common sense
is what you’ve might expected from
A Prodigal Son.

But I saw the world turn,
I saw good and the bad.
I saw what I never could dream.
And I lived in that world,
And I loved there too.
Lingering, embraced and serene.
I gazed from highest mountains,
to purest clouds below.
My spirit rose and brushed the bluest sky.
I crawled down in the valley
Beside the river of sorrow,
and bathed in the tears of humankind.
The blessings of a dreamer child
I wouldn’t wish upon you.
While he dreams they experience
the pleasures of insomnia from
A Prodigal Son.

Wandered on back,
from the wilderness,
with my own kin in tow.
Now I got a wife,
and two beautiful girls,
and they dwell in the core of my soul.
I meant to get home sooner,
but I am a late bloomer.
They are getting older, as we all are.
And then we turned the corner,
and we approached the front door.
The home-light’s covered, dark and cold.
The flame they tended is extinguished,
and my loved ones departed.
We’ll raise the home-light again
and with a flame will start it from
A Prodigal Son.

I’m feeling their arms reaching out to me.
I’m seeing their light surrounding me.
I’m hearing their voices are calling me.
I’m wishing to merge once again with them.
To shed my earthly scar tissue then.
To understand again,
we have always been one,
we have always been one,
we have always been one,
and always will be.



A kiss is a kiss,
is just a kiss.
A kiss is a kiss,
nothing more nothing less.

A kiss is a kiss,
a promise of bliss,
a promise of bliss.


A kiss is a kiss,
is just a kiss.
A kiss is to know
worthy and blessed.

A kiss is a crime
in the dark alley of an
embrace that’s not mine.
A homicide, a kiss is a crime.


A kiss is a kiss,
is just a kiss.
A promise of bliss,
nothing more nothing less.



A kiss…