Category Archives: depression

Starry Night Over Ho’olehua

Just when the world

gets too heavy


after pound

after pound

piling up

until its too much

I step out

into the meadow

and look up

and every star twinkles,


upon billions

upon billions

beyond what we can see.

The Milky Way flows

directly over the farm

and continues

out to sea.

Looking up from the meadow

the scales tip

and the weight of the world

slowly drips away


after pound

after pound.

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.











Trapped here in London

or is it the city

by the bay

day after day

after day

after day

pea soup





handfulls of

hope you wake up

still here

still live in fear

still drinking cheap beer

and box wine

and moon shining

over the bay now

but fog still hanging

over the day

hanging around

but can’t stay

away from grey skies

flies in the ointment

and dissapointment

less boom,

more bust

and appointment

after appointment

and happiness rusts

and trust in pills

and refills

more refills

it helps kill

but window sills

still curtains drawn

all bridges burned

all hope is gone

more dope

less dawn

rising at mid-day

binging on Netflix

stay away

don’t want to see

you or anyone

Johnny’s gone

I took his gun

now counting bullets

one, two, three

come fly away,


the Devils down

on bended knee

but final pleas

won’t set you free

the fog won’t lift

you’ll never see


you meant to me

and everyone.

Put down the drugs

and throw out the gun,

come to the island

live life in the sun.











old noteboks fill boxes

in a cold New England basement

with chicken-scratch poetry

from a time of insanity

and its aftermath

you know, stories about

taking the wrong path

about drowning

and letting go

of the precious life raft.

Nightmares have eased

but some ghosts linger

the man in the mirror

still pointing a finger

8 years a blur


and stirred

exams taken

and papers written

but lessons learned

too late

must fate be?

blind men saw

better than me



angry and afraid



my bed was made



alone and forsaken

by only myself

notebooks moved

from bookshelves

to boxes

alone only

in my mind

must I be a martyr?

time after

and after

the dust settled

it was too late

thought I’d figure

my shit out

and out run fate



too fast

too late



cheap dates

on Dot Ave

with only god knows



writing A papers

on Dunkin

and NoDoz


and life goes on


and so it goes…


and so fall fell


and it was too late

and fuck fate

and I



because I


to myself


and grandma

moved those notebooks


from the dusty bookshelf

and they sit

in a box

and I try to forget

but some things

you can’t lock


and some things

you don’t want to


and sometimes

you read a page

or two

once every year

or two

and get chills

and sometimes

you read something else

and get chills


and sometimes

you wonder…


scared to death

in Babylon

and something


got you through



kept you from the ledge

of the old Ba’ath party building

on the bad days,

eight stories up


brought you home


and something


and someone…

made you happy

and someone cared

and someone loved you

and you loved someone

but didn’t dare

stay happy

didn’t deserve

couldn’t deserve

wanted to deserve

-did deserve-

but couldn’t deserve…


and pages turned


and chapters fell away


and new chapters started


and ended


and the cheap paper fades

and the memories fade

and black hair slowly


to gray

and I can’t stay


I have somewhere to be…

and I’m always running

but never can find



and the poetry helps



and time helps


there are too many

lessons learned

from too many

mistakes made


and it kills me

that I wasn’t

the only one 

footing the bill

when the price

was paid


and I’m not running now

but Christ,

my feet itch


and what if

I stayed?


and what if

I stay now?


I sort of know how

and it seems easy

but the demons

always come back


they never fucking leave


and the booze and cigs

are a year gone

and every day

theres a new dawn


but the demons come back

and the angels are gone

and the angle is wrong

and the wagons lonely

but I won’t fall off

and these chicken-scratch poems

will be lost in a notebook

and put in a box

and burned when I die

and I hope no one reads it

I don’t want them to cry

but I’ll try

and I’ll try


to keep hanging on

to the farm

and this life

to my dogs

and my wife


to this pen

and this memory

that I’ll never forget

it’s a catch-22

but of course I regret…











Olive Tree

daylight fading

into evening shade

tree branches swaying

old record played

on repeat

no street lights here

nothing to fear

but aching feet

and tired eyes

havent cried in too long

the records skipping


just as I started

singing along

it’s all right

but I’m all wrong

and soon I’ll be

long gone

hit the road

before dawn

no looking back

wish I died in Iraq

ten years on

I cant write you

a love song

I hate myself

and the world

tippy-toe along

the wagons edge

ready to dive back in

diamonds and pearls

measure our worth

in burried treasure

it’s been a pleasure

but birds of a feather

hunker down

in stormy weather

and I’m held together

with bubble gum

and scotch tape

and I’ll try to fly

but I lost my cape

and it’s a long way

to the bottom

so I might die

before autumn

is through

I could run away

but they stole my shoes

so uncle sam asks,

have you heard the news? 

here’s a new pill, son

it’ll end your blues

and just then

the record skips


and the rooster killed

our favorite hen

the prescription’s filled

its in the pigpen

and bacon and grits

will give you the shits

heres some ramen and spam

have you seen her tits?

you must go

milk her now

said the farmer

about the cow

now these fields

will go unplowed

and ashes to ashes

and dust to dust

and even the brand new shovel


but it’s good enough

to dig my grave

we were neither free,

nor brave

I gave it a shot

but now I will rot

this is goodbye

on my terms

please just let me

feed the worms

plant an olive tree

right here


theres nothing to fear

but day to day

and year to year

made me sick

of grinding gears

now aloha means


my darling,

do not cry…





Ala Moana

Looking down

at the street below

from this 14th floor

hotel window

I see the sidewalk

where my family sleeps

if God is real

I hope it weeps

for what society

has become

we don’t see our sister

just another bum.


Her heart was broken

soul almost dead

she needs more

than just some bread…

She needs a friend

she needs a brother

she needs family

when she asked me

for some change

I saw humanity.


So I changed my destination

from the local jazz club

to the ABC store

to buy her some grub

and as she ate a turkey sandwich

a tear came to her eye

she stared at me a minute

and then asked me why?


“I see my wife, sister, and mother

when I look at you

and all these people passing by

would stop

if they only knew

how much you’re hurting

how much you need a friend

take one step at a time

you’re heart will start to mend

bend but do not break

and take a look around

you were forsaken and alone

but sister, you’ve been found”


And I’m drowning in the silence

in between her words

spread your wings and fly, sister

just like the birds.

You’re a goddess

you’re Ohana

I just wish you knew

imagine heaven and you’ll have it

soon, your pain will be through.

You are not a bad person

but life dealt you a bad hand

in solidarity with you, sister

right here I’ll stand.

stand-up guy

no one thinks I’m funny

and I’m running out of money

telling jokes in this dive

and I can’t take 9-to-5

only 5 people in here

drinking fifty cent draught beer

and no one laughs or cheers

just shoot shit way too loud

it’s a small but rowdy crowd

and I’m about to give up

when this drunk guy walks right up

and says that I should finish up

so I knock him on his ass

and the other 4 drunks

pool their cash

and stuff it in my jar

so I pump 2 gallons in my car

though it won’t take me very far

but far enough to leave this town

I cashed out when my chips were down

which I’ve been told never to do

but my time on earth is now through

and when they find me

they’ll see I slit my wrists

with a broken

George Carlin compact disc

maybe then they’ll have a laugh.