We see billions of stars shining

as the crescent moon follows the sun

an hour after it sets

sinking due-west

they’re twinkling like the rest

lost somewhere in the sky

hidden from the untrained eye

and billions born,

and billions die

and hallelujah,

bye and bye

and cry for those

burned out too soon

we’ll try to dance

without the moon

and June is fading

to July

midsummer nights

bring fireflies

and firefights leave mothers dead

and children without love or bread

and dread tomorrow

curse today

and chase the dragon

cannot slay

we like to say

whose right

whose wrong

more stars burn out

the same old song

its twinkle twinkle

little lamb

with Mother Mary,

and Uncle Sam

green eggs and ham

and apple pie

and billions born

and billions die

and hallelujah,

bye and bye

and hallelujah,

bye and bye

and too few mourn

as countless die

long hidden

from the untrained eye

and take my hand,

away we’ll fly

and hallelujah,

bye and bye.











Count the reasons

until you can no longer count

because you no longer want to count

because you no longer want

or need


but peace

no silver lining,

no new lease

count the reasons

and the seasons will cease

to change

and when the fire burns

no Phoenix will rise

and that lost look will be gone

from both your eyes

they’ll say it’s funny

how time flies

until tomorrow dies

as you count the reasons

keep your eyes

on the prize

theres a bushel of fear

and a basket of lies

and some faded tie dyes

and an emperors cloak

nearly twenty years in

and the empires broke

its all mirrors and smoke

and some coins in the well

farewell my darling,

we’ll catch up in hell











The wind’s whispers are drown out

by screams and shouts

broken dreams, no doubt seem

the end is near

awash with tears

and years and years will pass you by

what dreams did come abruptly die

and cry and sing farewell to pain

and dance and stumble in acid rain

all that remain now rot and rust

ashes to ashes

and dust to dust

and winds blow truth from dying tongues

but void of proof

with smoke filled lungs

and coffee black

and crack the code

and heart attack and gravel road

we found Tom Joad all out of breath

the preacher man led him to meth

but Jesus freaks don’t speak for him

they leave him hanging from a limb

with nails and pails to catch the wine

heres silver coins, pay Caesar’s fine

we burn the flesh and worship dust

who is this God in whom we trust?

We lust for treasures, fortune, fame

we’ve broken rules of every game

and its a shame we cannot see

that we all hang from the same tree.


Roman legionnaires are we,

shouting ‘freedom isn’t free’.









Mountains & Oceans

The weight starts adding up

the moment the lights go out

and dreamland arrives,

the weight piles up

minute by minute

hour by hour

pound by pound,

until around the time

the sun rises

until around the time

the roosters start to crow

it feels like a mountain

it feels like an ocean

it feels like the universe

holding you down

crushing your body

crushing your spirit

crushing your will to…

will you just get up already!!!

and its already 7…

and its already 8…

and you’re already late

but can’t lift the weight

wish this mountain would crumble

so at least you could try

to stumble out from the darkness

but there’s no lifeline

you’re all alone in this coal mine

eating dead canaries

trying not to starve

using broken bones to carve

love letters to dead sinners

but the saints will eat

our hearts for dinner

lets load coal in carts

and hope it starts

to burn

Ash Wednesday comes

our stomachs start to churn

start to crave blood-red wine

and midnight walks with Patsy Cline

and a gallon of moonshine

and a fine pine box

now it’s too late for TED Talks

and the doves are dying

to be hawks

and one fish,

two fish,

red, white, and blue fish

and cable or dish

and tossing coins

pollutes the well

I wish I weren’t here

you’ll see me in swells

get swept away

hell or high water

drown any day

will grandma still pray

and will the cows still lay down

when it rains

will the fresh white paint

hide the stains

will the sweet red wine

clog the drains

plant sugarcane

to sweeten the deal

sell liquor and coke

theres mass appeal

all mirrors and smoke

and polished steel

and bullets and pullets

and brooding hens

and methlabs and rehab

and a blurry lens

looking back on history

wash it clean like Listerine

and what’s it mean

red hands seem clean

when oils like water,

how can we ween?

and have you seen the mountains

of bones and dreams denied

and oceans filled

with all the tears

a billion eyes have cried

the universe has endless love

but all they preach is hate

while blind men start to argue

the elephant storms the gate

she ran away from the circus

too many lions and stale bread

the tightrope snapped

the jester clapped

the prophets left for dead

and now red, white, and blue

form puddles on the floor

since mountains grow

and oceans flow,

leave flowers at the door.











we’re not ready to let go

and enjoy the show

and watch the player piano

with dancing ghosts

raising toasts to machines

and green screens

and Mean Joe Green

pass me a bottle

or a box of wine

hurry up and dine

feeling strangely fine

until they print the obit

we were too legit to quit

could have wrote another hit

should have won with all that wit

might have stood, preferred to sit

now we wait on marble rye

broken dreams too young to die

pretend that we’re too tough to cry

but the tears fall

and the years crawl

and the beers call

and fears all that’s left

and here we are, bereft

and it wasn’t a dream

but a Ponzi scheme

we’re cheering for

the losing team

its coffee black,

we’re out of cream

things are seldom

what they seem.



















Daily Memories

Memorial Day…


so, it’s Memorial Day



and I remember

when Cub Scout packs

would take up the back

of the parade

and families would struggle

to find shade

along Main Street

in late May

with temperatures rising

we shuffled our feet

to the beat

of drums

back when

Vietnam Vets

were still

considered bums

by the Veterans

of the second great war

and, oh say

I can see more

Cub Scouts

getting ready to be

all that they can


and I can clearly


children being recruited

young minds being polluted

memorize these lines

pledge your allegiance

and fall in line

and left



and it’s time

to fight

now set your sights

on brown skin

and although it’s killing

its not a sin

and I command you

ten more push-ups

and hurry the hell up

and wait

and this is your fate

a decade down

the line


View original post 473 more words

Still and all, why bother? Here's my answer. Many people need desperately to receive this message: I feel and think much as you do, care about many of the things you care about, although most people do not care about them. You are not alone. -Kurt Vonnegut