Casually caressing
the comedy of life
A child knows not
tragedy’s strife.
There is always another dream
toy        or friend
for their fetal-esteem.
They spell their grammar
with candy and curiosity
while maintaining a history
in smile and laughter.
The heroism of Joe
        the G.I.
and the beauty of a Barbie
are created impulsively and
fueled by imagination and apple juice.

A bike is not
a means of transportation
but rather
meant to be raced and jumped.
******-Doo
and the ****** Tunes should
rule Saturday mornings
from their throne in the tube.
Monkey bars and playgrounds,
are not merely a facility
to upkeep physical activity.
Instead
it is a kingdom of escape
engineered by make-believe
funded by risk-taking
and motivated by the
eradication of the cootie-plagued
and ****** pickers.

Where did time go,
when these bones grew old
this brain grew dull
and these hands lost their callus?

The world is cruel
for the elder mind.
Yet, for our youthful kin,
Society does not exist
in coloring books
and world peace is only found
in imagination and apple juice.

I’m the kind of guy who tries to fly on broken wings.

I’m that sort of guy who is so stubborn,

           that I’ll keep trying to breathe,

       even when the oxygen is gone.

It’s not about comfort,

         and it is definitely not about luxury.

It’s about trying your hardest,

                 and persevering through the pain,

                             even when the pain seems overwhelming.

I was once impressionable,

     but now I’m just a skeptic,

            who’s out to fight the critics

            and prove that I’m not dead yet.

Yet, maybe I’m just an idealist;

                   a naive warrior

          for causes I never really understood.

But that won’t stop me—

       I’ll strive for victory,

      though I know victory is uncertain.

I’ll fight for sanity,

      since it seems sanity is uncertain as well.

I’m not a tamed beast to be trapped inside a cage,

Nor am I a hopeless soul

         treading water to stay afloat.

I am strong.

     I am steady.

And occasionally,

           I am lovely.

I solidify all that is true.

I Am Prestige: The Warrior Deep Within You.

Shoo! Shoo!

Cried the old lady in the boot,

as she chased the children

              from her sole.

While this humorous situation ensues,

      Humpty-Dumpty watches from his perch

a-top the King’s great wall,

               entirely unaware of his seemingly pre-destined fall.

It’s a shame that we never look far enough forward,

     to understand why we are breaking our backs;

well, if you don’t factor in the children who might be stepping on the cracks.

-

In another land of far away,

                the clouds rolled in and threatened the village with rain.

The itsy, bitsy spider was out of luck,

                           for his swimming lessons weren’t until the following week.

I guess Mother Nature just couldn’t control her urge to purge

         the dying earth with her liquid scourge.

-

Well I know that I’m not a Grimm sibling,

          and Mother Goose isn’t on my menu,

but looking back on these childish yarns,

it’s tempting to say that fairy tales

                aren’t really all that tall.

Maybe what our society needs,

        is a reflection on the stories we used to believe.

The                 in           my head

         words      

Are like an un———wanted train

Wreck.              Chaoticly

Disturbing all of       my

                                       peace.

It’s

             beautifullyinsane.

I can’t breathe;

           it’s as if someone is sitting on my chest—

                       shortness of breath.

Excruciating pain;

           it’s spiraling from deep within my bones

           all the way to my brain.

Nervousness;

            I’m so anxious I can’t even think straight—

                                           anxiety.

Faith;

             though I’m in an overwhelming state,

             I believe I’ve got just enough faith

                            to move this mountain.

Mile Two-Six-Two

Is the place where I fell in love with you.

Holding your hand on “forty-five,”

            I reckon I ain’t ever felt this alive.

Now we’ve got it on cruise control

                   as we shoot down 635,

         and time just seems to fly

                          while I’m staring into your eyes,

     because you’re the only thing on my mind.

Honey, for as long as I can hold your hand

       I’ll never forget that it was there,

                at mile Two-Six-Two,

       that my heart fell—entirely—just for You.

                                                            …and I plan on holding your hand forever.

The trees seem to come to life

As the the wind blows through their branches

                                                    helping them to dance;

giving them the courage to sway

                                          in this sunset.

The world is just a little town

That gets ready for bed

As the sun goes down

And I’m stuck here in this pasture

Looking for my clouds

Through the veil of darkness.

            There’s a scent that catches my attention,

But it’s gone before I can mention

                                                                      what it reminds me of.

The sound of crickets comes from all around,

      and I hear some coyotes moving further south,

But I’m just sitting here in the bed of this pickup

                         letting my thoughts get mixed up

in the world that surrounds me.

                It’s calming to see nature

                in its natural environment,

and it’s interesting to see

the world through these eyes,

                                               because these eyes aren’t anything like yours.

Though I do often wonder

What it is that your eyes see

As they hold my gaze

And stare back into me.