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