Month: December 2014


I think a lot of things

as I wander through my day.

I consider the fact

that most of those I meet

don’t really think at all.


they have considerations

or ideas about the things

that interest them…


they don’t THINK.

They aren’t engaged

in the pursuit

of deep rumination

or navel gazing.

I guess I envy them.

I can’t stop thinking.


there is no off switch.

Even sleep

confounds my need

to not be….


Turn the page

Solstice comes
then goes…
but the calender doesn’t change.
We binge on one holiday
to purge on the other
one week later.
We make promises
we have no intention
of keeping
so we can feel empowered
about “the now”
and a failure
As you get older
this matters less.
It is only another night;
as you will have done
enough debauchery
to fuel a lifetime
The clock will align its hands
straight up,  again,
but it will happen
while sleep is king
and this new year
will still be new
in the morning.


The decorations
and all that glitters
mark this day
as well as
any calender can.
So we gather
in our preselected groups.
Some familial
some friends…
and blow-ins…
and random mixes
of the above.
The earth will circle
the sun once more
before this happens
But here it is
We all make it through,
Some thrive in it,
some despair,
and the rest of us
push through
with the comfort of knowing
it’s only once
each year.
Merry Christmas.

This is why I do it

The Christians and progressives
love me,
the radicals too.
The lost and dejected,
those who seem
to have no hope
and those who have
nothing but hope
for everyone else.
I read their posts,
I read what they have written,
and I smile.
I have a wide audience…
who would not get along
if I put them in a room
within the words I have stamped
on this world
they have found
some form
of agreement…
however tenuous,
however week.
I like this.
I like this a lot.
They are shaking hands,
though they do not know it,
through the veil
of my words.

HD chanel 2

so I’ve become
An unknown artist
on the station
that features
the unknown.
Her voice
is restrained
she is a successor
to the chanteuse
of my youth.
She is,
as each new generation must,
taking her first stabs
at the world,
and all my ruined mind
can muster up is,
“you’re doing it wrong”.
She isn’t,
of course.
There is beauty
in her soft lament,
but my stained soul
cannot accept it
I must compare
and contrast
because my era
has passed
and I can’t grant her
this one.
It is only fitting,
for her,
that it is not mine
to grant.

I listened to the whole song:
It was very good,
and I was better
for having heard it.