Music and Poems

A place here for songs I’ve written, poems I’ve penned, and maybe works of others I admire.

About Jennifer

you’ve looked at her so much
and looked into her eyes so
that you think you know her
but her liquid black eyes
say nothing.

but nothing and you keep
looking at her eyes to see
something, something

but still nothing there
and she will not look back
she will not
look at you and your eyes

you imagine her nights
because you think
they are full of sex and loveliness.
(and also because you are not there)
hot nights, vicious.
wicked and strong lovers
she has them all

and nothing in her eyes
gives her away.
not even death glance of exhaustion
allows you into her secrets.

Dead Squirrel

I am disgusted by the bleeding head on
a dead squirrel
and I don’t know why.
It took me a while to
figure out how to bury him too.
I dropped it in the dumpster of a parking lot.
I then walked on to study
about the persecution of Indians
and the hedonism of Jesuit missionaries
in Latin America during the 16th century.
There is no parallel.
This is just a recounting of a few miserable moments
in my otherwise splendid life.

Cries of my Father

I remember hearing his good shoes
scrape our porch on his way to the front door
his steps always told me of his day
scratching away destruction
like rough sandpaper, tearing old
faded paint from cedar underfoot

That scratching tearing away
pulverizing, of coats of paint
carefully applied over years of sorrow
The wrenching of the front door
heart racing
he ripping off his coat
mixing now vodka and water
sits down to cry after the funeral
of his own father painter

Shoes still scratch, from his seat
back and forth, paint to wear thin
ugly in vulnerability, seeking,
it seems
only bare wood on which to walk.


Love from a distance
farther than time
or miles I grasp
Opening new flowers
so much easier than
opening a distant smile

Such sun settled brilliance
I can hold, only with my eye
and never touch
with my little hands

or understand the love from a distance
where further distant mysteries
elude my gaze

Fear’s Embrace

I lay drunk
under my friend’s friendliness
and I thought about the
January run
and the laugh after
they asked me
What did you run the two mile in?
and I said
I ran on with them, content in my fear
But as they ran with me they had become enclosed
in fear’s new embrace


off the coast, watching them
inimitable waves
wish wild thoughts with me
under the vast waterfall

In my mind, them weeping
tiny drops
smash on rocks
and forget their freedom

but the waves
inimitable waves
flaunt their fleeting freedom
forever exploding to their end.




Obsequious Rose
ingratiating velvet magic
her warm subterfuge kiss
haunts me.


Remember, only yesterday, eternity’s vast circle
my broken life, a
slow blind voice
as wild as unrequited mornings

Poetry is devouringly obsolescent
in this universe

But a poison picture window above
tells me the less you know
the more you see.


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