Hawaiian girl

The Hawaiian girl knocked on my door
I took her in, she looked around
she noticed that my place was sparse
she sat down in my only chair
and she made herself at home

Another one bites the dust

Kindness, loathed to be invited,
kneeling alone

Stand tall, clamoring for your 30 pieces of silver

And cast yourself,
drop by drop,
another shadow,
begging to be set free

Check out girl

Fingers lined with silver
your skoal in your hip pocket
your beehive looks alive

 Eyes that warmly hold you
 your voice so smooth and sexy
 your smile calmly wry

Craving some attention
you're ringing up your ego
you're doling out some lies

Nothing to see

What life would be
if I wasn't a fool
careless and reckless
happenstance rules
no checklist or plan
nothing like that for me
aimlessly drifting
yes, something to see.

What would life be
if I wasn't a fool
thoughtful and careful
obey all the rules
my life all laid out
a straight line for me
standing in line
no, nothing to see

Flowers

I hope that someday you have flowers again
soft petals and colors to greet you again
to see so much beauty, yourself once again
there at that moment you need them again
again and again and again and again

Turn around

The Defeatists are in town
lets rally, turn them down
turn our backs, on their act
show 'em all , not this time
or next, or after that

Over and over

Song in my head
loop and loop
tumble around
kick up some dust

I know it's there
another song
a bitter truth
for me to hum

Partners

The Straight man and buffoon
funny and sad, without a clue

They trade places, fighting and laughing
all the way, to an empty bank

Rhetoric

Your words run in circles
tumble all over me
I beat them all back
with a sharpened tongue
a neat little package
tied all together
just for you

Dreams

I'm hungry for dreams
the deep willowy sheets
of darkness that brings
all things possible

Waiting

Canvas with a thousand skies
waiting for it's due

Paints awash in monochrome
begging for their hues

Bristles sitting coarse and dry
thirsty for a dip          

Old masters waiting patiently
for masters that are new

They can't all be gems

The blankest slate

will have to wait

for another date

'cuz I'm late

or not at all

Procrastinate

Iron

In the back of my mind
you sit
A wrinkled memory
and that reminds me

I need an iron

Roller Coaster

Prozac roller coaster
straight and narrow
no highs or lows
any height
can take the ride

Don't forget

I forgot

warm ways
trusting means
full on
take my hand
It's OK

I forgot

Woof

Surreal rodeo
Cows bark alligators fly
See the penguin roar

Right

A clear danger
seeping through
heart and mind

hushed voices
hunkered over
all my secrets
in the rumor mill

Sharpie

This is where
I draw the line
nice thin sharpie
in my pocket
I pop the cap
at any time

In the cut

I come around the bend in the road
nothing to see over my shoulder
my battles fought and lost
are won when soon forgot

And the road now straight and narrow
no battles to win or lose
an ally now In my shoes
a brilliant white flag unfurled.

The last bridge

Angel of decay, a setting sun that stumbles into night, crashing waves of hopeless beauty.
You stride into town shiny and new, and completely vanish when you arrive.
You run away past the adoring crowd you love to despise.
The punishment you give, so petty and coarse, eye for an eye, heart for a heart.
The prophecy fulfilled for yourself once again, you put up your dukes and then take a dive.
And now once again the phoenix will rise, from all the ashes from the bridges burned.

Day

I think about the day that was

what was said and what was not 

rehearsal for a play that closed

all these things inside my head

that knock around are not forgot

they ebb and flow the candle burns

Falling

You fall down

and do it again

you pull yourself up

and do it again

I don’t fool myself

and think I never fall
again and again

Donna

Back in the early 80’s I was living with my girlfriend at the time in Attleboro Ma.  Bernadette (Bernie) would occasionally visit a friend in Brookline Mass who was a cousin of Donna Summer. Donna Summer is from Roxbury Ma and was in town for a concert so she invited us for an after party. So we drove to Brookline which is a very high income type area, but our friend was on welfare and lived in public housing. It was always strange to me that there were 500,000$ dollar homes (which was VERY expensive back then) perched next to what amounted to slum housing. I silently smirked and shook my head at the irony of it actually. It was lost on my girlfriend who was not known to be the sharpest knife in the draw. Also lost to her was the time we got into an argument over the Cambodian boat people that where immigrating into Attleboro at the time. “The gooks that were on welfare” she called them. Yeah I know, she was a butter knife in the draw of life.

Anyway we rolled past the obscene wealth that abruptly stopped with the three towers they crammed the poor folks in and parked the car. In front the building our friend lived in was a limo. Donna Summers limo. There were people all around it gawking into the dark windows and generally talking shit about whomever they thought limo belonged to. We walked pass the crowd and went inside and rode the elevator up. Oh yeah, by the way,  I can’t remember our friends name, Olivia? maybe or something like that. On her floor there was of course Donna Summer beats rumbling through the halls and all sorts of people roaming around like an inside block party. We made our way to Olivia’s? apartment and the crowd was even worse. In front of her apartment were two HUMONGOUS black dudes. They looked at our creamy white skin with “surprise” but were very polite and nice to us. “are you sure this the apartment you’re looking for” one of the guys asked. Yes we’re friends of Olivia?; Bernie and Jim. There were more people outside than inside the apartment so one of the guys disappeared and came right back and let us in. Inside there was a crowd but it wasn’t too crowded. We saw Olivia? and cruised over to say hello. Now, I knew absolutely no one there besides Olivia and her old man (Mr. Olivia?), and me Bernie and Olivia were the only white people within a solid three miles of the place. Now before you question my world view, I have to mention that I grew up with many black people and lived with my best friend Vernon in Roxbury Ma. I attended church with him and his family on Sundays over summer vacation. Church in a black congregation is entirely different than you would expect. But that is an entirely different story for another time. Back to my world view; I know I sound like one of those people who say they “have black friends” implying that they can’t be racist. Well sad to say, a few years before when I used to take the red line to my friends house in “the berry”, it never crossed my mind that I was the only white dude for a few blocks at least. Now it did and it kind of bothers me. Too much TV with the robber, rapist, and drug dealer being the black dude I suppose. Maybe true, It still bugged me though. To the present: I think I saw a black guy at Shaw's a few weeks ago and all of us in the restaurant business know what “Canadian” means. And so it goes.

Back to the past: So i was nervous as whore in church only because really, I didn’t know anybody and I was kind of a shy type back then, I kind of stood around and tried to look cool, suave and debonair. Olivia? Came by and said hello and I asked where Donna Summer was. I had a little crush on her at the time and thought she was wicked hot. Bernie knew I had a crush on Donna so her ears perked right up and she came over to tell me that “maybe Donna can give you a ride home”. Like i said before, butter knife, draw etc. And for that matter, her personality and temperament couldn’t cut a fart in a wind storm either. I really don’t know what I saw in her. Well, except for the whole sex thing I suppose. So Olivia? Made a joke or something and another stupid argument was avoided. She waved to me and Bernie to follow. In her bedroom, there she was. Donna Summer. On the radio oh oh, Donna Summer. And she looked like shit. I know makeup does wonders for people but my bubble was totally busted, popped, deflated and stomped on mercilessly. Donna looked like...everyone else. I need to mention this though before I end this. Donna Summer and Olivia? were cousins and apparently both are on the “lighter” side of black and from I learned later, there is a discrimination among certain black folks in regard to the color of their skin. I don’t get it but, whatever. Olivia’s? mom was white and her dad was black. From what Bernie told me Donna Summer gave Olivia? some money occasionally but treated her less than kindly because of her “whiteness” So when Donna Summer showed Olivia? attention she relished in it no matter how condescending or self serving it was.

Back to Donna Summer at hand. After the makeup scare I somewhat came to my senses. I remember exactly what I said even 25 years later, ”your music is wicked awesome”. That’s right. “Wicked awesome”. Cool and suave went right down the drain, twirling around and screaming LOSER as it went. Thank god “dope” and “fresh” didn’t come to mind. She kind of stared at me for a split second in what I swear was pity and offered me the mirror that was sitting on the bed. On the mirror of course were rails of coke. Bernie eyeballed me, her eyes narrowed and her face tightened into closed fist status. She absolutely hated drugs. She was after all, a nice Irish Catholic girl. Also, she had two teenaged sons (she was 15 years older than I was...yikes!) and felt she needed to set an example for them. Except for being a racist and soaking herself in sea-breezes she was doing a bang up job in my opinion. Once I told her if she loved me she would do a line with me. That’s really the only time I ever saw her honestly laugh. I was serious too. You know, I never claimed that I was honed to a brilliant edge all the time and could still use a pass through a stone once in a while. (Too obscure?) Any way, I said ‘fuck Bernie” I’m doing lines with Donna Summer. So I took the straw and snorted the biggest rail on the mirror. I was, at the time, about the biggest coke whore there was. I looked up and saw the look of complete horror in Donna Summers eyes and I immediately knew what that look was for. I would say I snorted at least a graham of coke. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was closer to an 8 ball. Luckily as i said, at the time I was a coke snorting maniac and didn’t immediately start doing sprints up and down the hallway. Also the coke wasn’t very good at all. They were like “disco hits”. Ahh. Irony was rampant that day. You would think Donna Summer would have good coke. I could get far better stuff on French Hill in Nashua. After a few seconds Donna Summer came out of shock and shot Olivia? the same look Bernie had given me a few minutes earlier. Donna Summer didn’t even look at me again. Olivia? Muttered something, I don’t remember what, and gave us the hustle out of the room. Bernie wouldn’t even look at me and Olivia? left me alone in the living room standing there with the remainder of my dignity waving goodbye. Then the coke paranoia set in and I started to grind my teeth. And that’s when I left. I said nothing; I just headed for the door, past the two huge bodyguards, past the crowd, down the elevator, past the limo and to the car. Of course I didn’t have the keys so I just paced around the car, all sorts of fucked up by then. Twenty minutes later Bernie showed up, said nothing and we got in the car. As we drove off, I ground my teeth and rubbed my hands together. I turned on the radio and yes, no word of a lie, it was Donna Summer. Oh oh...on the radio, oh oh...on the radio. Really.

Drama King

A blinding storm is at my feet clouds hustle and bustle for me to greet with cool and calm and steely eyes a vacant stare no fear here. Someone steps in i turn them back i don't need help to beat this back. What could you do for me?

i muster all my certainty and step in front to take the whipping wind and shouts from below. i stand tall and brave and sure. i beat the clouds back with sheer will without a blink my eye is still they look at me at my great skill. What did you do for me?

The storm subsides iv’e beat it back i’m now alone with myself no wind or clouds to beat back just myself again and not a cloud. I falter with the wind so calm nothing to be so sure of it makes me misunderstood a garbled shout. I wilt back into the crowd i don’t stand out no orders left for me to shout. What does it say of me?

My voice no longer is so loud i’ve never been on the deck so long with no clouds it twists and turns me all around no longer sure in the crowd. i try and speak and a squeak comes out. i listen though and all  i hear is what i speak when the skies are not clear. What could i do for me?


I see the others on the deck they all are sure that we wont wreck. They all take turns to guide the way and I join in I have some sway and when it's back to me around I speak even stronger, no clouds around until we all, we speak the same and all of us we have our say and I now know that without the storm that I can, I can be heard be understood, without the clouds. Without the storm, I understand, I know what they did for me.

Whats the deal?

heart on sleeve
basic feel
always there
for all to steal

just a kid
for the day
nigh time comes
toys away

beer with him
wine with her
ball with him
pen with her

dig it up
boy or man
either way
suite your plan

turn the worse
inside out
take the rest
for yourself

who I am
All that’s real
up to you
now fuckin’ deal

Necklace

All smiles at first
and then a pause
a second or so
gathering thoughts

Thoughts of a time
when life was so coarse
her smile smooths out
the edges of time

The smile will do
for now to veil
inconsolable loss
so much to conceal

Her eyes now takeover
It all spills out now
emerald eyes
spill beautiful pearls

Pearls now roll down
on shimmering cheeks
they fall to her heart
for her to keep

In time all her peace
from a beautiful source 
a necklace to wear
of beautiful pearls

Spring Cleaning

Cleaning out the basement
all the rooms in one
toys and games can stay there
memories of fun.

Cleaning out the attic
all the rooms in one
pictures held so dearly
put those in the sun

Cleaning out the guest room
all the rooms in one
thoughts that stayed too long
watch them as they run

Cleaning out the house
all the rooms in one
time to make more room
For all that want to come

How it is

I cleanse myself
on the alter of your pain
in hopes i find an answer
to the questions that i ask of you
are the answers i need for me

as i wander through your rooms
all your rooms so full of pain
which one is safe to stay
is there any room at all
for me with all those doubts
and are they yours or mine

the questions come hard
and the answers harder yet
in the air they lay bare
with no one to ask
but our fleeting selves

Kaleidoscope

Tragedy
behind the picket fence
away from all to see
through the slats
i see the sunlight
it hits my eyes off and on
as you travel down that road
the light and the dark
a kaleidoscope of hope and pain
please save me
please leave me alone
the fence will be solid
in the end
yet i always hope it wont