I've reached the conclusion that hairs have a seed
if not tackled early, then that's how they breed
like weeds, you can pull one right out by the root
but always it grows back, my chin is the proof

and I worry so much about it
it's probably why I'm thin
when I get old and senile
who's gonna pluck my chin?

I asked my son, John, to be sure that he did
if ever I went to a nursing home bed
he said that he would, 'though I do have a fancy
he only agreed to, to pacify me

field of dreams
first stroke of scythe
ideals shatter

....

frozen sunlight
piling to the sky
blinding vision

...

distance erased
mystery looms
fog lights look cool

...

clock watchers
and longevity
a living hell

...

lawn mower busted
dandelion jungle
straw and camel nightmares

...

twiddling and tweaking
experience forsaken
photographs are nice

...

sailing seven seas
midnight watch, flask of rum
dearth of scenery

father....
although he was seriously ill
the surgeon declined
to operate

but he adamantly insisted
I'm paying, he snarled...
who knows
when the dangling hour...
will come

post operation
he lay horizontal
while the world rotated him a time
around the sun

then
sooner than expected
standing
… walking...

the young surgeon died
patient survived…
for over two decades
thereafter...

one’s mind has power
foreign to what is rational

What life had me learn.
Living is never without lessons-regardless of vast resources no man can live in absolute isolation for long.
A sound education from the ivory tower is never solely academic wins excellence in academics promises but never guarantees-something more is required.

Within her eyes are starlight
and she held me with her glance,

the shadows formed her sillouette
don't think I ever had a chance.

The smokiness of her demeanor
feels like silk against my own,

yet the darkness of her mystery
soothed like the sweetest breeze that's blown.

So, I'll join her in her haziness
that surrounds my every care,

we'll share a time so intimate
it'll ward off all despair.

For, within her eyes are starlight
she held me tight, with but her gaze,

reveal purposeless bask
the sun is upon us

myriad hunters
for a spell
turn your face to the power
that gives us all

for the moment

go back after
to the dealer
the bitch
the informant line
that sucks the drives

subversion
riding waves of control
of power

dull savagery playing
knife tricks
oiling barrels

hook me up an IV of the good
baby and never stop the flow
I'll come alive the monster
and restore the flow

THE SIMPLE THINGS

The simple things employ my brain,
those things that others trip on,
those moments that just happen unawares,
they're there presented 
and performed, 
not for us, 
not perhaps for anyone,
and yet when they're perceived they fill the mind, 
the universe,

CORRIDORS

Down corridors angles sharp
flames flickering to dark
I tumble and fall
trying to reach an end
I crawl
scratching the ground
ripping at Time that has bound
me…

Lord, have mercy.

.
‘I need to find my room
you're new here aren't you?
I can't ask the nursing staff
if they think I'm getting lost
they'll want to transfer me to the locked section

I wish I was a Catholic
in order to confess my sins
and remove my shameful deeds

or perhaps a Buddhist monk
this world's illusions torn away
and nothingness achieved

maybe many transmigrations
could teach a lesson or two
and drop me off the wheel