Thoughts From A Porch


This was me, in a memory

There are glimpses


It is unsure how this could be

Given life’s turns and chances


There to here, it is unclear

It confounds the senses


Not a single cell remains

Within what I became


So I am this and not that

Regardless of what they claim


Every moment, every day

A second chance to be


Upon a different path, now at last

I can be no one other than me



Dark Night



Dark beauty arise

In blackness

Dark nights reprise


Beyond sighted eyes

In silence

Beyond fallen cries


Faith no more

In sadness

Faith to abhor


Known yet unknown

In silence

Known yet alone


Dark beauty arise

In blackness

Dark beauty arise

This Dream


What I Am Thankful For

That I am close to the end of this dream

A dream that I thought was true, it is not

I have simply forgotten that I am dreaming


I have believed this is all real


For your and my enjoyment

But then I am you, and you are me

So the one I blame is myself

Though most blame others






If we are ever here to feel

In the sudden seeing of flight

Birds overhead, wings spreading

To the coming azure night


A cats purr

Lying close within the night


If we were ever truly present

As we talk to another one

Against city din and clash

If we cared how it begun


Ripples in this fabric

Within the whole as we begun


Ignoring that which is in front of us

Longing only for the next

The instant rise beyond

Forgetting all the rest


Is no one among us

Even ready for the test?


Final Breath


This bottle is fragile

What I can say, filtered, safe

Pushing, pulsing

Contained for now


This tongue bleeds

Bitten and held

Breathe; soft words, alone.


They cannot see

Yet, I am they, and I must

Hold it, wait…

I cannot hold them…


They have jumped

From the cliff

Pummeled and broken


And I grieve

Sacrificed to falsities

Led astray in the glow

Turn it off; see!


Truth was always here

Beside you and with, within.

Breathe and be.

The Laughter


Has anyone ever died?

Was anyone ever born?

We see others do both

For ourselves, we are not so sure


I was not here, neither were you

Now I am, are you?

Others may see my leaving

But I will never know I have been


This dream of forgetting

Of before and after

A game we play so well

Yet forgetting the laughter

Second-Hand​ Lives


The young child is running wild

As children often do

A mother yells distracted and annoyed

Expected; that is true


The cell phone never leaves her face

Something that cannot wait

Annoyed at the interruption

Her child’s behavior of late


Something so important

Something beyond her child

Something that really cannot wait

No; just a friend who has beguiled


Second-hand lives lived apart

Never to be lived again

Missing the important things

For selfish personal gain


Addiction is an insidious thing

Creeping while unaware

Life passes once and never again

In a breath, they are not there.