Sunday, July 12, 2009


not a big number
like 4 million and 3
but a number nevertheless.

very important
I mean
that's almost 20

your last teenage year

the last real big I'm almost an adult year.

Enjoy it.
live it with a smile.
live it laughing.

live it with passion
and fire
and feelings.

and once in awhile
think about
the people
who think about you
all the time.

when we see

we see

and we remember.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

"Blood of the Lamb"

you try to sleep while i type
you say you can hear me making sounds
in the night
the click of the keys the computer brain
working working overtime.
all the non-stop time
you are my lady, my sleeping beauty
my soul kiss

my heart hears mind music in the night,
when it is quiet and everyone
is wherever they go when they sleep.
outside the daily pains.
away to that place of peace
never worry, my love.
i will always come back to you.
where i never left

the piano of the keys beneath
me writing sounds in my head
so many running there.

swirling sad silly sentences
in the china dark.
sometimes i wake you with my noises
(i forget how loud i play the music)

go back to sleep.
i'll be there soon, and we'll go together
to our dream place.
our special private

that dimension on the other side.
of this side
or inside
get a little on the side
side of mayo
side of fries
california mudside

we have been youth,
and we have made it
so much farther
than the police said i would.
i owe you, for not just shaking you head
and walking away

i shake you head
but you don't walk away.
you just pull the covers up
and patiently

i'll be there soon
because i love you,

you sweet,
hard lovin belly rubbin',
foxed out madwoman,


Tuesday, June 23, 2009

I go to bed to sleep, perchance to dream
Ah, but therin lies the rub.
To dream of you so far away.. makes my melancholy heart
Begin to beat faster at the thought
Of you inside my arms.
Your eyes sweet light to rest on mine..
Your soul shining through that pastel blue.
God worked such kindness in your face.
Sweetness there for all to see.
But there is only one who sees the all of you.
That one, sweet love, is me.
Not long, not long, my precious one,
The space between us will be gone .
We'll hold each other in the night
And smile until the dawn.
We'll love so hard and laugh so loud
That God Himself will smile
To see the beauty of his gift.
the Vegas Moon that shines on both of us this night
makes souls like ours embrace each other.
May you sleep the gentle sleep of lovers..
and know your heart is safe.
I love you.
Truly,.. madly..deeply.. and always...

Monday, June 22, 2009

Never miss a chance to keep your mouth shut.

-Robert Newton Peck

If the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.

-Meister Eckhart

Sunday, June 21, 2009

New Hope, Pennsylvania

Once upon a time there was a little town in a nice green valley where a river ran clean and cool and some farmers raised their families and crops. Everyone was very happy and content with things and went about their daily lives with serenity and grace.
Then there was an awful war and some of the farmers and their sons were killed but when the war was over the ones who hadn't died came back to the valley and life returned to normal. You see, farmers live with lie and death every day and know that sometimes the crop is good and sometimes it is not. They accept the things they cannot change and do not think about them much.
But in other places in the land there were creators of things or "artists" as they are sometimes called and they were unhappy with the way things were, what with people fighting wars and all. They wanted to know why things happened like they did, and they thought all the time about questions that have no answers and where a straight line goes to and noticed things like dewdrops and wrinkled faces or the shape of shadows.
Some of the unhappy artists went looking for a place where they could be creative as they called it and where it would be quiet so they could think and where there were not so many people to remind them of how many questions they hadn't answered yet.
Now the artists found the little town in the green valley by the river and they liked it very much because they could be themselves and even if they did things very differently the only people watching were he farmers and they would only shrug their shoulders and go about their business.
Well, the artists told all their artist friends about this new and wondrous place and pretty soon there were quite a few of them, painting and writing and sculpting and singing and photographing and they would get together on winter nights to laugh about how poor they were, and share the warmth of friendship.
Then one day some people were out for a drive in the country and they saw an artist sitting outside painting and they stopped and looked at the picture and liked it very much so they asked the man if they could buy the painting. Now, the artist did not know what to say, because he had just been painting a picture of a question that had no answer, and did not know what kind of price to put on that, as he had made it out of love. But, the people seemed quite nice and he was a little hungry so he named a sum of money.
Well, the people thought the price was very fair for they they could see the man had made the picture out of love, so they quickly paid the artist and drove back to the city, telling all their friends how lucky they had been to acquire the piece of art and the artist told all his friends how lucky he had been to sell the piece of art to people who hadn't even asked him to answer any questions.
Pretty soon a lot of people were driving to the little town in the hope of seeing an artist working and all the artists were very busy selling their work and they weren't so hungry anymore. Things went fine for awhile until so many people wanted things that the artists did not have time to think anymore so they started creating anything and they found the people bought it anyway because it was very crowded and they, too, didn't have time to think.
You can easily see how confusing things got, for pretty soon lots and lots of people were coming to the little town without knowing why, and lots and lots of artists were creating things without knowing why.
The farmers by this time were beginning to move away because there were so many people around that it frightened them. You see, they didn't understand why all these people come to town and paid money for things that had only made the farmers shrug their shoulders. and anyway, their cows would not give milk with all the noise on weekends.
Now that was sad enough, but then one day a businessman from the city noticed that the little town had no place for people to eat so he opened a restaurant and pretty soon he did so well he left the city and stayed in the little town. In not much time at all there were lots of business people who opened more places for people to eat, and places that sold souvenirs so that the people who could not afford to buy the artists work could still prove to their friends that they had been to the little town and walked around.
Now the town was crowded all the time with people buying souvenirs and grabbing bites to eat, and going back home without knowing why they came, and the artists were all very busy selling things that didn't ask a question any more.
Finally, the little town had an "Arts Festival" and, although thousands of people came, there weren't any artists left who cared about where a straight line goes to, or noticed things like dewdrops and wrinkled or the shape of shadows or making things with love.
So the businessmen started selling hot dogs and soft pretzels from rolling carts and paved the farmers fields and shuttled the people back and forth in little buses pointing out the places where the artists used to sit and work.
You see, the artists had become unhappy with the way things were and started yearning for a place where it would be quiet so they could think and where there were not so many people to remind them of how many questions they hadn't answered yet. And they found a little town in a nice green valley where a river runs clear and cool, and some farmers raise their families and crops. And they get together on winter nights and laugh about how poor they are and share the warmth of friendship.
But, I'm not allowed to tell you where it is.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

The Walrus

"The time has come,
"the walrus said,"
to speak of many things.
Of sealing wax and sailing ships,
of cabbages and kings."

"The time has come," she said to me,
"to speak of going home.
Of packing up and letting go,
and leaving me alone."

"The time has gone,"
she sadly said,
"when songs were always sung.
And words were true, and eyes
were kind,
and you and i were young."

"O.K.," i said, "It's no big deal.
We've already said goodbye.
Our lips don't kiss, your eyes are cold,
and you never even cry."

She said,
"You know, i guess you're right,"
and just hung up the phone.
The walrus never had the answers,
i'm in Wonderland alone.