I sit in my lair
and drink
and think
what’s to become of me
Will I ever see
the realization of my dreams –
Or my nightmares?

I’m nuts about the world
Do you get my drift –
There’s a rift in the flow
I can never smooth.
I grow –
Do I only grow old?

The wisdom of it all
escapes me
The patterns develop
then dissipate
Leaving me confused and cold

I’m no closer to the end
I see in my heart.
I’m just at the start –
each morning
each night
The days are backward
The nights are long
I walk in confusion
I lust for my solitude
I long to reach out
I dream of all the days to come
in my peace with you
It’s serenity I seek
of which I ever speak


[from my 2nd collection of work, written in the ’90’s –

Oh, that pesky ‘contemptible other’…

If not feeling you in the present,
could I squander my last dollar on frivolities
meeting your eyes out window-shopping for success

I been baffled before meeting much-such animosity,
unabashedly uncaring, undisguised
cautionary temperament

Remembering friends who’ve fallen behind
… let this be their wake-up call …
for Eternity has all the time in the world
to wait

Addressing pressing obligations…

There seems no rhyme or reason
in the passing of the seasons
alone in my room
hearing chatter on the television
sorting out the clutter in my head

Passing bucks to the cashier
for necessities & whatnots
come to find fulfillment
in a coat of fresh paint
masking the ravages of time

. . . . .

… slipping comfortably into my consciousness …
… beside myself with pride …