Only Love Can


Love’s just a word we love to use

It’s the poets’ favorite muse

Sprinkles of confetti on pages everywhere

Words parting lips to blow in the air


Yet only love can mend a heart

When suddenly it’s torn apart

And only love can mend a mind

When it’s not treated kind


In our world all are human

Sharing forever whether man or woman

And thus to bond as a clan

As only love can, only love can




Outside the Safe

Sticks-a-dozen by chance collide

Metaphorically making a box to hide

Abstracted distractions of imaginary space

Where the views transparently clear

Through these walls we shape around us

To shelter us from our fear


Though this box a cell when not a vault

And the combinations given by default

When sticks and bars are the same

The outside’s kept out and inside kept in

And nothing’s ever lost or found

When there’s nothing ever within



Gray Hare

A requested tribute / sequel to “White Rabbit”

(Original lyrics by Jefferson Airplane)


One pill picks you up

One knocks you to the floor

And the ones the doctor gave you

Don’t do the same anymore

Go see Alex

When he’s feeling sure


And if you go chasing some dream

And you know you’ll run all day

Tell’em the caterpillar’s now a butterfly

And the color flew away

Go ask Alex

When he dyed his gray


When the chessmen in the boardroom

Give up but they won’t let you quit

And the mushrooms now with steak and beer

And your brain runs out of wit

Go tell Alex

I think he’ll fit


When climate and aggression

Have made us all to fear

And the White Knight’s now a talking head

And the Red Queen’s a man with flair

Remember what Bugs Bunny said

Feed the heir, feed the heir



Timeless Reflections

Why do mirrors cause such a fright?

They’re little more than bouncing light

Reflections of a time just past

Instant flashes that fade too fast


They smile when we’re happy, shun when we’re not

They care not when we’re gone, time’s soon forgot

Just a wall hung shard of glass with backs unseen

With gilded surrounds to heighten their sheen


While the image of ourselves is bigger from within

This picture in the glass is less than paper-thin

Just an instant in time soon to disappear

Though every glance a moment that we’ll never share



Middling Thoughts

I’m too old to paint in tempera, takes too long to dry.

I’m too young to sculpt a headstone, since I won’t soon die.

I’m too old to swim the channel, don’t like being cold and wet.

I’m too young to drown in sorrow with so little to regret.

I’m too old to chase maidens through spring fields anew.

Though now the times just right to share all I have with you.



Little Dudes in my Head

Inward adventures in a cavernous space

Peeking through slits at upside-down space

Bouncing about in a big pile of goo

Any’s too many but none’s too few


I can never decide what I should say

I think the little dudes want it that way

They scurry about, finding things I forgot

At times they hide things, they should have not


Sometime they edit, sometimes they write

They’re always angry when I turn off the light

Sometimes they’re gone for weeks or more

When they return they’ve much to explore


Seldom if ever a good or kind word

I keep my mouth shut so they’re not heard

I scream in a whisper, they lull with a shout

They cause great sorrow but alone I’m without


Who’s good or bad is never quite clear

Repercussions of choice is what I fear

A constant tug-of-war, each has a side

I’m in the middle with nowhere to hide


Their kicking and screaming can be real bad

But more loyal friends I’ve never had

We all share the pain, though I the blame

We share a laugh that’s never the same


It could be worse, or so I’ve been told

I guess I’ll decide when we’re all old



Twas the Ale

Twas a fable yet scribed I chanced on a trail

Whilst adjusting lapels on my shiny chain-mail

Running behind by fast falling hail

When caught by surprise by a soon too late snail

Rushing past for the tour of a mighty blue whale

A little boy followed, arms all a flail

Yelling and screaming and waving a pail

Fearing for life, I ratted out the snail

Thus rightly rewarded a tasty round quail

I plucked a plume, it barked a wail

I flew to the pub and grabbed me an ale

I asked of bread, it answered stale

I ordered steak and was given kale

Complained to a waiter who proceeded to rail

Then I was bounced out, back onto the trail

Went in head first and came out on my tail

Now bumps and bruises read like braille

Poking and prodding will always fail

The highs and lows of a musical scale

Whilst the notes remaining  …  twas this tale



To All a Happy End

Books without covers, until they’re read

Blank pages at the start, full when it’s dead

Chapters each grow complex as time fills the sheets

Cluttered with description, scattered with fabulous feats


Leafs numbered carefully, some seemingly fell out-of-order

With twists and turns, good and bad, the best parts always shorter

All are novel, none a fiction, most never to be perused

All first editions on a shelf, most forgotten once they’re used


Paper backed or leather clad, short and long, some illustrated

Writ by a single hand, edited by masses, bound and frustrated

All’s a familiar historic tale, all they ever wrote

Copyrights handed down, penned in a marginal note


‘Twas a story of a life whose time may now transcend

Whether joyful, sad or demonic – all will be a happy end



One Way Ticket


The world and I on a different plane

Though destinations are the same

Ticket bought for the morning light

Wasting time till the evening flight


Runaways, both it and I

Grading shades of clear blue sky

Rocks may roll, some may fly

Most just buried when they die


Scoops will make forever night

Landing time’s now in sight

Running late, none’s to blame

The world and I on a different plane




There’s no safe harbors left for me

Though bonds broken, never free

I know not where my path will lead

I know not what I’ve left to bleed


I’ve wandered long to quench the greed

Never to find what I truly need

Till beckoned by the endless sea

Aimlessly adrift time calls to me



Forecasting Forever

I can’t predict the weather

But I know when it’s hot

I don’t need a blizzard

To know when it’s not


I could feel the wind

Rustling through the trees

When you blew out the door

And left my heart to freeze


Whether or not

There’s a change of mind

The seasons will change

Some are kind


It always seems sunnier

On the other side

The grass is always greener

With vistas forever wide


While storms will brew

And come and go

My love preserves

This you can forever know



Shadow Slaying Sun


When the dark of night grows darker by day

And the screams in your head won’t go away

When the sun comes out it burns your skin

Parched of voice sound’s trapped within


When the mind is blank, yet full of thought

Dreams of horrors my sleep is fraught

Depths I’ll fall until I’m caught

By the arms of demons, forever sought


Where shadows frolic on the wall

Till an open window hides them all

Breezes blow sucking breath

When eyes open stealing death



Nourishing Tasty Stew

Mix, match traits and trade

This is how a human’s made

Manipulations of our DNA

Plus all of nature has a say


There are physical traits; one and two

One’s the outer, how others see you

Two are senses it’s how we perceive

Then memory, that’s how we retrieve


Intelligence gives us reason to reason

Personality is how we share the seasons

Adding old to make new, the trait of creativity

And last, yet most important of course, is our empathy



Magenta Rose

Magenta Rose and tulips fine

Blossoms bright in the suns morning shine

Now homeward bound over sand and sea

To the dewy petals forever haunting me


Magenta Rose and two lips fine

If your bed awaits please give me a sign

Darkness blankets all other blank faces

Till numbing gales scatter their traces


Magenta Rose with two lips fine

I’ve longed to make those two lips mine

Magenta Rose may I help your garden thrive

Where two lips pressed will make our blooms alive



Just Wood

Leaning lonely against the stand
silently awaits the touch of a hand
Heart strings needing a pluck or strum
or beating a bass note with a thumb


The neck longing for subtle caress
Highs and lows, notes relieve stress
Shapely bodies reverberate
Soulful vibrations stimulate


Anyone’s friend, they don’t segregate
whether booming volumes or sounds to sedate
A planet of harmony’s formed with six strings
Sharing their love as the whole world sings