Stars and Harbors

Forgiveness is the line that keeps us moored
When weathers roars in from the east.
Kindness is a cove that harbors us
When wind and waves are a beast.

Hope is belief that tomorrow
Brings calm seas and a storm free day.
Love is a gentle breeze blowing
Sending us once more on our way.


Treasury Department

Tender your tender tender to me.
Your love alone will set me free.
We’ve been hardened by time and age,
Losses mounting from the wars we wage.

Tender your sweet tender
Surrender to me.
Be my crumbling wall,
By an ancient sea.

I don’t know what we have left to spend.
I do know how I want it to end.

Soy Campeon

A brief smattering of words
To indicate that today was.
Was more than red exclamation points.
Tiresome emails. Running over the same ground.
Writing on the adult chalkboard a trillion times.

Today could be the middle of the week
In the middle of a middling life
Of a man stuck in the middle.

Or today could be appreciated for what it is:
A gift.
Thank you oxygen that fills my lungs.
Thank you sunrise.
Thank you sweet and tender love that I have known.
I’m alive and well, and the champion of my soul.

The Twilight of Democracy

Dear Congressman Bergman,

We have gone way beyond a tipping point with regard to suspected nefarious ties between the Trump administration and the Russian Government. It is of the utmost importance that this matter be reviewed by an independent council as soon as possible, for two primary reasons:

1.) We have no faith in the veracity of Donald Trump. He is frequently dishonest in his communications and presumably in his dealings with the American people. If he was investigated for financial ties to and possible collusion with foreign actors, we aren’t damaging his reputation at this point. If an independent review found nothing, it might actually restore some faith in government (which is currently being shed at precipitous pace).

2.) If the overwhelming amount of “coincidences” surrounding this president with regard to his conflicts and possible collusion do amount to something, by not handing this the proper way, we are truly letting evil triumph.

We need to know that American Democracy is not imperiled. There are millions of Americans that think as I do.


Awoke and fully aware,
But only when she’s standing there.
Otherwise, filled with regrets.
A poor player who struts and frets.

Always fully aware,
Her light touch, the smell of her hair.
Her presence fills the room,
And he is fully consumed.

Wings to fly; tongue of lead.
Flooded with love, filled with dread.
Cannot speak, he just stares
At the angel, standing, unaware.

Field of Play 

Do we need a new dream to believe in?
America’s field has become so uneven.
One team owns a gold fountain head.
One team drinks water and lead.

One team was born on third.
One team has never heard
Anything but strikes being called
(it’s a wonder they showed up at all).

On this field, we can’t find the best player
Because he never even had a prayer.
Struck down, struck out with no at bat.
The fans and umps just allowed that.