Poetic Fiction


If you’re in no hurry to go

then I’m in no hurry to stay

I’ll pack up my belongings

and be out by the end of the day


You can’t ever keep a job

Or even wash the clothes

Our meals served at the drive-thru

That’s where the money goes


The few dollars that remain

Is always spent on ink

The few hours that we share

Always your time to think


You lock yourself in a room

There you laugh, scream and cry

While I long for the silence

When one of us will die


If not for crumpled notes

Our stove would be always cold

Your hot and chilled emotions

Once steamy have gotten old


We haven’t kissed in a week

There’s been no love for a year

I’ve now begun to wonder

If love was ever there


Now you say you wrote a poem

That all the world should see

It’s a poem of love and devotion

But this one’s just for me


If these words of passion

Are as true as you say

Rumpled sheets await

There’s no need to leave today


But if they’re not

as all other times before

My future will unfold

beyond your paper door




Own Up


Children see a world through eyes that are our own

Blinded to other views until their eyes have grown

Knowledge then divides when education is on loan

Cooperation’s needed to set a civil tone

Problems fester when we all moan and groan

Productive solutions are forever unknown

Fearing that someone will cast the first stone

Waiting for others to throw the first bone

Passing on peace or a big steaming cone

Time’s now for grown-ups to show they’ve grown

Let’s save this place we all see as our own





Some hearts warm, some cold,

yet all share a bloody thirst.

Circulating both love and hate,

who’s to shout or shoot first?


This darkness of man held in a hand,

yet the voice has never killed.

Though orders cried for more to die,

by others brave and skilled.


Organs strewn and heads hewn,

the victors’ lust begins.

Checks cashed then all gets smashed,

the big brass always wins


Mothers cry and babies die,

someone wins a pin.

The degree to which this hell’s risen,

is all an unforgiveable sin.


Some hearts warm and some are cold,

why can’t we try to neutralize?

Let’s build on our commonality,

returning joy to our children’s eyes.



Write On


Just an observation

Neither here nor there

Just a little thought

That I’d like to share


Having writ now a bit

Logging ups and downs

There seems to be a pattern

That’s shared all around


Sometimes juices flow

Pumped with inspiration

Sometime the well is dry

Full of emptiness and frustration


Yet on we tread for nothing more

Then another chance to explore

Following our pens, hearts and minds

Where always a tomorrow we will find



Four Leaf For All

Mornings fog this St. Paddy’s day

A chill in the air but spring’s on the way

Life’s returning from winter’s ghost

Time’s now, don your greens – share a toast

Rejoice with old friends and make some new

Tis the day Irish luck’s with all of you

We’ll bloom together, all’s chosen

All living green and having fun

Soon our days filled with sun

Saints all, when all are one



Urban Lumberjack


Out sawing logs most proficiently

Till buzzing sounds cut through me

Awakened to a new sunrise

And looming towers in the skies

Guzzled whole bean, huge and black

Sugar stash stole from old knapsack

I grab my Axe then splash my face

Yesterday’s chips bear no trace

Beard’s quaffed perfectly shabby

Pressed flannel plaid looking flabby

Jeans donned with six inch cuff

Pipe’s lit for morning’s puff

In vintage boots scuffed, untied

A new day’s afoot heading outside

A bright spot picked, time to strike

Never as close as I would like

Pickup’s placed alarmed and ready

Loving years rolling steady

Traversing back the jiggles and jogs

Returning home to saw more logs

There distant dogs I hear barking

While alternate side of the street parking