Just Wanna Go Home

Dead sons of Abraham
3 by 3 in the ground
Take me home
Unloved furbabies
Unclaimed in the pound
Take me home
White House shake up
Wiped the slate clean
Get me home
Peninsula missiles aiming
Making for an aloha obscene
Get me home
It’s the Age of Incompetence—
No one’s in charge
The media will surely report
With Veracity, by-and-large
Just wanna go home

Answer True

My lady asks
Have any fairy wings?
My lady asks
For the most strangest of things
How is your breathing?
Have you any pain?
My lady makes such inquiries
Again and again and again
My lady walks
Toward sunrises and sunsets
My lady talks
About lost causes and yesterday’s sure bets
Have you made your plans?
Have you made your peace with goodbye?
My lady bravely faces a future
When it will be her turn to let herself cry
My lady asks
Have you any fairy wings?
My lady asks
For the most wondrous of things
How are you?
How are things going?
My lady shares her heart
With a love that’s flowing and flowing and flowing

Across Audubon Park

Now I’ve become old
Time has passed and taken hold
Down to the plain nitty gritty
From now on things won’t be so pretty
At least that’s what I’m told

Now I’m taken ill
The future promises a different thrill
Taken to bed feeling low
No one speaks about how this’ll go
Where did I file that Living Will?

Now the days have grown dark
What once was passion is the barest spark
Take my things I need them no more
I’ve deeper mysteries ahead to explore
Sprinkle the remains across Audubon Park

Now I lay me down to slee….

Go On

The guilty aren’t all punished,
The guilty aren’t all caught,
And life goes on,
Like as not.

The innocent aren’t all saved,
The innocent aren’t all freed,
And life goes on,
Ponderous, without heed.

Chords round, all in a tumble.
Broken bass lines oft fumble;
And life goes on,
All Nature in a jumble.

The deserving aren’t all rewarded,
The deserving aren’t all relieved,
And life goes on,
If such is to be believed.

The worthless aren’t all discarded,
The worthless aren’t all reprieved,
Life goes ever on,
Howsoever we are aggrieved.

Music can find the immaterial,
Poems can manifest the ethereal,
Life’s symphony then finds the coda :||
And we all go on, whether true or venal.

Gratitude

Somewhere between the pain and the passion,
And the lies we tell ourself,
From “Hey, let’s go for it” on the way to
“Leave it on the shelf;”
When at last we lay me down to sleep
Did you take time to savor the flowers?
Did all your efforts lead to the Good?
Were less taken paths worth the long lost hours?
Meanwhile, Grandma floats in hospice,
She can’t hold onto your name,
But her late smile traces the eternal-
She’s always glad you came.

Ya Know

Meet me down at Maline Creek
We’ll wash off the blood
Cuz we’ll fight in Ferguson
A cow’s gotta chew its cud
4 miles from the Mississippi
But this ain’t no St Louie blues
Is it really cool to be racist?
Why do I have to hate the Jews?
But da cops, ya know, they all lie
And your can keep your plan
Is it really 2014?
What does it take be a peace-loving man?
Martin was murdered in 1968
And we ain’t learnt a G.D. thing
Hope the Grand Jury announces on Christmas Eve
And the Truth can lose some of its sting
But meet me down at Maline Creek
It’s gonna be a helluva week!