Gentle Gradation

Truly full of sound and fury.
Little rest and always hurry.
I Pause. Some hesitation.
Take in a gentle gradation,
Nature’s nuance.

Soft vibrations on the air,
Have a different meaning here.
Take a break from combat mode,
Let something older take hold.
Nature’s nuance.

Chickadee flits through the air,
Thankfully, not selfaware.
Admiring the armored symmetry
Of an old oak tree.
Sweet nuance.

My worries are an early morning mist.
The sun gets higher, they don’t exist.
This is a moment without thought or time
In this moment I free my mind,
And notice the nuance.

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.

The Lies That You Make Up

Oh, when we were babies,
Well it was desperate times.
They would cleave
But we clung to the line.

And we’d battle for nearly any crumb.
They’d call us naive, call us dumb.
Still, we fought and wouldn’t succumb
When we were young.

Are they white-washed memories
Of a forgetful mind?
Or were those really
Better times?

Wheel Rut Love

My sweet, darling bride,
Seems we’re stuck on this ride.
And I hope that we can deal.

It’s like I’m never winning.
These tires just keep on spinning.
Solid ground would be ideal.

Though most would call the wrecker,
She smiles at this broken record,
As mud eats my spinning wheel.

I have my keystone and my compass
And words that don’t encompass
Exactly what I feel.


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.

8 Lines of Selfhelp

If you’ve been bruised and battered,
Left in a pile, self-esteem shattered,
Pick up the pieces and realize,
There’s only one fit to criticize.

Go to a mirror and give her a look.
Smile, wink, let her off the hook.
You only have one life to live.
You are the best person you can forgive.

Young Doggerel

When I was young,
Children were seen and not heard.
Parents had the only word.
Today’s norms were obscene and absurd.
When I was young.

When I was young,
It snowed all through November.
Winters were something to behold and remember.
I don’t think we thawed out til’ September.
When I was young.

When I was young,
The President didn’t grab at lady parts,
Or make whining and lying and crying an art,
He had America’s best interest at heart
When I was young.

When I was young,
I wanted to go to the moon,
But the Challenger crew was gone too soon.
My crying teacher burst into the room,
When I was young.

When I was young,
The horizon was forever bright.
I’d grow some wings and then take flight,
Never more to alight.
When I was young.