Garbage man.

Where there is greatness 

There are garbage men who

Ride around on their great green steeds

Going from house to house 

Like a confused Santa in summer time

Coming to take back the waste of christmas day.

I love how there is the one garbage man,

Who rides on the back, standing,

No seatbelt, feeling the cold morning air,

And knowing he has a special privilege to

Stand outside a moving vehicle while

He does his job and does his part is society.

In a world where he doesn’t exist, 

the world looks much different,

Dare I say: Heaping mounds of human

Waste fill the streets as the world is chaos

Nobody responsible for what we don’t want

And nobody seems to care

For we ride on a tight line

Thin enough to snap at any second

And suspended above apocalypse.

Grand it is that we live in a world

Where things work as they should

Now we must make sure to celebrate

And be grateful that when we wake

To sunrise in society, that our cartons

And cardboard are gone by morning tide. 

Suppose

Everyone lives in a perfect

World in which nobody

Dies and nobody lies.

Children eat their daily

supper and watch fireworks

explode in celebration of a world

Without the calamities of the past.

Suppose everyone becomes equal

And hate is abolished 

Written into policy

By politicians who don’t

Have their hands in the pockets 

Of others who have no wish

but for their own pockets to be filled.

Suppose we save the planet

And we let nature guide us forward

and live symbiotically with the only essence

That truly keep us alive

Suppose we actually make a difference

Wouldn’t that be nice?

To look out the window and

Know that you can be proud of

Everything you are a part of. 

life exposed

Taking a breath of blue air

while floating on white fluffy clouds

with colors that swirl like a starry night

and sensations that only render as immense.

You took the leap and are off on a

journey neither here nor there

but itself will change how you see the 

Writing on the wall between yourself

and what lies ahead and behind.

Realizing that everything and everywhere matters,

even down the grains of sand that

trickle between forlorn fingers,

grasping at the fickle lives of loved ones 

before the great beyond 

take the turquoise rippling water from there

roots as the spring flowers

reach for the sun to feel the

 the only sensation that brings 

exhilaration.

Let go and breathe and were back to 

the space here

and the time that is now

and we wonder why

things we hold onto 

that we try to control 

always die in vain.

Let the self die or let the ego 

be exposed. We are not ourselves 

but a part of the bigger question of

why are we all here? 

 The complex narrative

we ascribe to ourselves

to make sense of seamless chaos

that governs the body and those around us.

Grasp another fistful of sand containing

history as it bleeds through life and death,

each grain containing multitudes

of a past in which everything

came from something bigger than itself.

When waves become light

that illuminates the bark as the colors 

snake up the tree of life

and you are overcome by 

textures that surround you.

Life breathes with you and

lives through you as the 

universe is only able to experience itself

through the eyes of every child 

that will grow old and cynical

or life young, loving, and free.

Each one of us is a flower 

that will bloom when the time is right.

We do not ask what is beauty

because it’s an experience unique

rising and falling like the tides of emotion 

that tears at us and give us great

gratifying releases of euphoria

as we realize that love is all that matters

in a world corrupt by those who cannot see.

Dream Poem

The trees shrink

And a am free

My legs are meaningless

As the break free of

The chain of gravity

And my arms stretch out as

Wings I will never have

Letting go

 I can soar

Newfound power

And a sense that questions 

Will lead to an early landing

Like anything

Practice makes perfect

And all I want to do is see it all

But takeoff never lasts forever

And soon I find myself

Having crash-landed

Into my bed

Pantoem

Wake up 

The sun is shining through the hazy glass

A cool morning breeze is seeping through the aged wood

Open up the shutters and a day new wafts in

The sun is shining through the hazy glass

A leather boot for each foot, aged like fine wine

Pour coffee prepared by the night before

Creak open the screen door and gently let it closed behind you

A leather boot for each foot, aged like fine wine

Standing on the porch, stretch your legs

Early summer pours in your nose and mouth

Water lapping the rocks on the rocky shore

Standing on the porch, stretch your legs

Take a sip and look around

Water lapping the rocks on the rocky shore

The birds call out because peace is here

Red’s, Orange’s, and Yellows

Dance in the wind, falling softly to the ground

To meet with their predecessors 

Met already by the seasonal change that greets us all

Every day I’ve watched the tree grow

Not taller or wider

But older and wiser

It watches me and I watch it back.

We keep time together.

Soon, it will be barren and appear to be aged

An old man on the brink of death

Smiling because he lived a full life

And deflated because each moment

Feel as if his bright leaves will drift away

From the slightest gust

On a brisk autumn day.

The maple is bright orange on this particular day,

Perhaps it’s reached it’s peak and for this maple

Fall has truly come around once again

In some ways I envy it,

As it watches and wanes

It’s a spirit living on through constant change

I grasp the shutter and lift

And fall seeps in

Its aroma pleasant and cool

Enough to put on a pair of wool socks

And through a blanket over my legs

In a way, the tree and I are the same

We must wither the seasons

Be bright and full of life

And embrace the change,

Dance in the wind with our colors bright

Our Red’s, Orange’s and Yellow’s

Emily

A childlike existence is what I have found when our fingers lace.

The fountain of eternal youth resides behind your deep brown eyes.

We must be adults in an adult world but it’s been ingrained into my future

that creating fun will be as constant as our cups of coffee in the morning, 

both with cream, one with sugar.

Our differences make living an endless pursuit of compromising,

Mixed in with bouts of endless laughter over the silliness that that simmers

While we wait like eager kids watching the cookies in the oven.

Our love is rich and dazzling, it is the colors of autumn streaking by on a long

cool day on a New England road, mesmerizing to the soul of the beholder. It’s a light snowfall 

through big glass windows, illuminated by warm seasonal lights at dusk, while a hot holiday meal wafts its essence into the air. 

We understand each other as summer days and cool water are inseparable 

In the human experience. Present as a daisy drifting in the wind until it lands in the hands of child who in turn gives it to the pretty girl dressed like spring wildflowers. 

Letter

Dear granddaughter, I hope you see a smile today

and that the world is not as emotionless as the 

masks that protect our health but lessen the 

the connection we feel towards our fellow peers. 

The news preaches to us a divide in reality.

Who knows what is really going on?

Science, religion, and reason

are locked in a battle that has no winner 

because the loss of life taken by our invisible enemy  

can’t give one the room to breathe.

Our world is living on borrowed oxygen,

no machine can endlessly sustain.  

Our future is being aborted by those who claim to care.

We spent many months inside, and many more

fearing the invisible even

when we walk among the living again.

I took a deep breath the other day,

Smiled at the sky because nature has always been

my solace, and gasped

for the hope that the future will be around

Long enough for you to read this letter.

Guitar Poem

Stories

There is simply too much of this world 

To only see such a small fraction of what 

We have been given the opportunity to see

Floating on a rock in space

This is all we will ever know

And it would be a tragedy to not spend your precious time

Finding a way to leave your bubble

Somewhere out there

Across the seas

Over the mountains

Through packed train car

Under bridges of time

Are stories just waiting to be shared

I want to find as many as I can

The human experience is like no other

In the way that it makes us feel 

That we are not alone

In the tiny amount of time

We live stressing about taxes.

While I sit here at my kitchen table

Mind-wandering in every place but here

I think to myself

When will I experience the feeling of wonder again

I felt in the company of strangers

Who opened my mind to the strange 

Beautiful mess that is listening to when life beacons. 

The unfamiliar is unforgettable

Like riding a train into a sea of sand

Or floating about a sea of clouds

Watching cities glow like submarines

In the moonlight. 

Graciously accepting the help of a couple

Who notice the lonely cold man

Watching the horizon 

And deciding to feed him warmth

And a temporary smile. 

Like the man with little to give

But the most to offer.

It’s all out there

Waiting to be heard.

Singularity

Falling into the void

at the true end of endless expanse.

breathing steady

unable to comprehend the

lack of every sense.

Drifting without direction,

bending time and space

And what it means to be.

Darkness all-consuming 

the light

fading

fading

and interstellar experience

that melts the mind

and contorts the wall of reality.

stretching,

stretching,

the limits of what is.

one can only imagine

what it’s like to

drift into oblivion

and break out of the box

that holds everything together.

Natures Oldest Resting Place

Flowers in the meadow

Lush vines snaking beneath my bareback,

green stems protruding rainbows of pedals,

and ground

Soft with trampled soil

that blend together to subvert the toil 

conceived in our fancy feather cots.

Bathing in what the forest has to offer.

Giants swing above

Saying hello in their old ways

The trees have faces you know?

In the corners of your eye,

don’t look and you’ll see them!

Waving in the light summer breath

Their branches sway

Hello

They breathe.

Stay and be.

They creak.

Showering me in their gentle shade.

Welcome their ancient

Grove of wisdom left unturned

Rays of insignificant radiation 

Light the waning opening in the leaves

A place to rest on the forest floor

At peace with the pollen 

And aroma of nectar seeping

It’s way into lungs

Inflating sweetly

As our oldest bed

Beckons us to rest. 

I am present to a fault

It may seem 

I am dead

off-grid

taken the vow of silence

You won’t hear from me

unless you can see the dimples 

on my face

I am present 

to a fault

you have my ears

I am yours when I see you and 

can touch you

I love you dearly

But

I won’t talk

chat

send memes

pick up the phone

and hear you without

a screaming reminder

you exist

elsewhere

To all those in far places

our bond remains everlasting

to me

We will catch up

but let me breathe the same air

or play phone tag until you catch me

Adult Poem

What happened?

running through the backyards of everlasting elementary bonds

careless

when the void of the little voice that says

worry, was still there in a bliss 

Of ignorance

Where did the days go?

When plates that gave your daily nutrients

were placed on the table 

Without a thought to how or why?

Waking up and everything is still resting

On shoulders that need to be reminded

That life is here

Life is happening and cannot be ignored

When every cent on every item, every object, every

Sustainable factor for life matters 

And takes up more space 

In the train of thought then the

Flowers in the meadows 

That float by the windows

The weary we are

No time to rest

Life won’t look back 

And reach out it’s unforgiving hands

Everyday

Each day is consumed by the differences that naturally manifest.

Plans, lists, and itineraries we let rule the domestic kingdom.

Structure helps to keep the chaos from overwhelming the mind

but

rigid edges and dotted schedules punish reasonable will.

They will not do 

as the perfect day will always be out of reach.

Forgiveness and walls that bend like plastic 

are the support that keeps the house 

From blowing over in the wind

we do our best to organize our house of cards in a hurricane.

All you can ever ask of yourself

There will come a time

when your future

lies across a valley

and you can’t see

how to cross.

Possibilities form

in the mist

of the future

and you catch

a glimpse of what it would feel like

to dance soaking wet.

But all you can EVER ask of yourself

is to step into the canyon

and dive into the valley

to see what awaits you..