As we stand on the edge of catastrophe,A despairing poet, I can no longerFollow my Zen like some hippie troubadour,Riding my Harley across the dusty roadsWith my battered old Gibson Les Paul guitarSlung careless across my faded denim coat,Seeking for enli...
“What is this place?” he thought to himself. He carried only his beloved Gibson Les Paul guitar as he kept stumbling forward. His watch read 4:20 but he didn’t know if it was A.M. or P.M. A booming voice echoed through the cavern. “Step forward boy!” A fi...
Dear Dad, It’s Julie. This is the letter we always used to wonder about. It took much longer than expected. My timeline runs parallel to, but thirty years ahead of yours, and I’ve grown older here than you are there. You’re approaching the point where I...
“This is like a Rod Serling Twilight Zone episode!” he observed. “Four of us locked in a room, and none of us know how we got here!” “And none of us seem that concerned about it!” the photographer noted. “Mind if I get some photos of everyone with my Exak...
There is no Interstate called Four Twenty,No one can tell me how to go there, now.No entry ramps, no exits one might see,But, still, I dream I'll get there, anyhow. The neon sign still glows so bright, my friend,The penguins manning toll gates ask two bit...
The first time I meet you in a guitar store, strumming a Gibson Les Paul guitar I know you are the man I should be scared to get closer. My eyes behind my digital camera focus on your face while you are listening to the sound of the guitar. A penguin tatt...
It's unfortunate when you try something new and it all goes to pot. Big Dave is only too familiar with such misfortune, his rundown bar barely covers the rent and its faulty neon sign seems rather appropriate. Although, I kinda like the way his 'Rock Bar'...
When shall we wake? Shall we wait, wringing our hands,Until our last child smiles no more?Shall we wait until he’s gone to war? Shall we wait, with a self-righteous tear, as last he feels his mother's love,And ends his life in the streets of our City’s e...
Note: This compilation occurred to me more than a year ago. In fact, the reason I logged on to Facebook on March 14, 2017, was to reach out to Alan and propose that we combine our efforts, merging his Colorado Calling and my Jersey Rejoicing into one poem...
I’m not entirely sure I like you.Everything here is too bright and too dark. It’s a fucking paradox and it doesn’t make any sense.It doesn’t even make paradoxical sense.Like, why am I sitting here typing this? My hands are betraying me.The wind is harsh,...
You always did like surprise endings,A twist no one could see coming,And that last one of yours was a doozy.Days later, we're still reeling,Not from the shock, which dissipates,But from a grief that lingers.You probably never knewThe regard people held yo...
A con man rolled into town, With a funny looking wig. Made a lot of promises, Everything will be really big. He claims he doesn’t like immigrants, Says they cause a lot of strife, But you certainly would never know, By looking at his imported wife. And he...
To some the world revolves around them,And nothing else can matter.They’ll do anything to reach that end,Including endless idle chatter.They walk around like “Hey look at me.”And are only happy when you do.They’re like an exhibit for all to see,Like an an...
we are the ghostsyou never see us walking down the street among you beautiful ones the living ones we are the ones you pass without a second thought for the tiny brush of air you feel in our wake we are hardly worth the time it would take to pause and con...
Flowers bloom, the Winter thaw, Outside the songbirds sing. With the arrival of the bluebirds, I know that it is Spring. But listening to the bird’s songs, And watching the flowers bloom. I can’t but help myself, For feeling a certain gloom. For I find my...
