(2013)
That blue-gray rainy day, the blue-gray funeral parlor. There you were laid out in blue and gray. So still.
Ideas and notions, they’re all for the dreamers, worth as much or less than one's considered opinion. You can’t even wrap fish in them.
Weep for the fallen warriors. Weep for those souls considered collateral damage. Weep for the profiteers. Weep for the deserters.
If I could steal you out of time, there would be no place to hide. I would finish what was started when you left me here to die. It’s not vengeance which I seek,
What is this code that we agree up… but dare not ever speak in words ? That mysterious unspoken-ness looming where we choose to gather. It’s sure we must be seen to know
It was in those early days when everything seemed technicolor there was that explosion only inward then nothing
Forgiveness? Not on your life. My life was stolen from me. For what?
Everything he has ever been taught alerts him to avert that dancing f… What is it then that demands he mu… proceed towards his certain fiery… Some deep and ancient voice within
I am awash with tears of mourning for what I thought was dead and go… as though a flood of holy water has broken through the stony dam I contrived to spare this brittle…
That cranky old mongrel hound cooped up down the alley; he ain’t got no teeth no more but he still knows how to snarl. he gets them young pups all worked…
1998.... while touring india.... exploring the town of rishikesh a popular hindu pilgrimage site along the banks of the holy mother…
He’s been around the block and even toured the world, with scars upon scars to show from many a hard-fought battle. Yet like many old dogs
I dreamed of being lost and trappe… in a land of angry fearful liars. There was nowhere to run or hide. I cowered cornered and exhausted, my back against the furthest wall;
I’ve been so afraid to speak these heartfelt words. This secret has been kept so well, from myself, by myself,