City Grave



“Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God.”  Luke 12:6

Somewhere in the big city slush

in snow covered alcoves

a sparrow lies crushed and trampled,

unseen, unknown by busy citizens of God’s green marble.

No obituary given.

No seven p.m. news report

on channel three with Cathy McGee

proclaiming “Local bird is murdered in Manhattan.”

Apathy, a state of no mind

in predominantly God look-alikes,

an incurable addiction crushing

man’s soul like a vise.

The city streets keep humming

melodies of coming and going.

The sparrow’s friends mourn their brother’s frozen corpse

Disfigured and attached to his concrete grave.


Nineteen and sixty-eight

jungle snakes slithering around the dead,

napalm and marijuana wafted its way

through the remaining broken grunts.

War had hit its prime.

Copters stop on a dime.

I tell you it’s a crime

To see your buddy’s head blown off.

What was it for?

Nobody answers,

nobody home

in castles made of sandstone.

You die alone in Saigon homes.

Your friends are just as dead as you

What for?  You ask.

Nobody’s home in the Hanoi sandstones.

Take a piece of metal

Craft it into death

while the world holds its breath,

give me another hit on that meth.

There’s Something About:



the crashing chemical death of Syrian children,

thunderous ocean waves at midnight Tuesday morning,

nighttime whispers in the hush of passionate kisses,

the final organ dirge at an old man’s funeral picnic,

there’s something about it that carries me to the big empty.

There’s something about a big man screaming war

with blue lips of savagery stuck to his pasty face in December.

The boys with hair greased and girls dressed in first grade leggings

watch as their friends frown at a friendship gone.

Yes there’s something about it that carries me to the big empty.

The rotting of a tree can be heard on a dead silent night.

The lady in the bay is sinking, depraved men laughing

as coins jingle in poorly pressed pockets.

Mother Earth forlornly cries at overflowing oceans

knowing we the people will soon fall into the big empty.

Liberty’s Last



I embraced the grassy knoll

listening for a heartbeat

even for a faint tapping of hope

a fragile sound of a memory

like the flutter of a butterfly

spoke to me of forgotten history

when men spoke kind words

about their friends and enemies.

Goodbye Lou

Goodbye Lou

Chocolate eyes dance across the stage

Young prince guitar ablaze

Mind wandering through the haze

A spider’s maze of drugs they say.

Ah yes it was a perfect day,

a movie, a chilled glass of Sangria.

The colored girls stared and smiled

as your satellite of love flew

across the universe.

Never one to be afraid to walk the streets,

the wild streets, New York, LA,

November never made its way

sadly October laid you away.

Maria Lena

Maria Lena

Just a matter of heartbeats

green line bleeping

sparrow wings whispering

in silence on a hot summer swell

keeps us cocoon safe

should one heart cease

the other will surely follow.

We danced moonlight naked

our love the greatest miracle

I am certain in the whole wide world

like an ocean and wet sand

we stood breathless

swaying to cicada orchestras

Maria Lena plays from somewhere

beneath a starlit night

smoke wafting its way

fire pit pungeant

lips kiss lightly

soon the world stopped

for just a moment tilting

on its axis throwing you

deeper into me

it is meant to be.


Graveyard for Poets

Graveyard for Poets

A poet who grows old

is carried on bare shoulders of skeptics.

No one thinks he wrote a lick.

His name unknown in a world that knows

the names of all big stars.

He’s not one of them

so he goes to sleep on a starry night

never to write another love story

about the woman crying by his bed

her umbrella weeps in harmony.