How I long for the days gone by,
Such memories overtake me.
I look back on my life and sigh.
May the future not forsake me.

All the fond thoughts of yesteryear,
Coupled with the thoughts of regret;
Love of life is ever so near,
It captures my soul like a net.

So many things I could have done,
But I did not follow them through.
Maybe I walked, but should have run,
Such thoughts make me feel so blue.

The sun still shines, up in the sky,
The moon is still glowing at night.
Life goes on, regardless of why,
And the darkness turns into light.

All in all, life is still worthwhile,
Happiness remains in my sight.
Some things I recall, make me smile.
My love of this life shines bright.


This universe of ours will end
As we then return to the source.
No more wounds to tend or to mend,
As the source will chart a new course.

When all the sands of time run out
And existence must start anew,
Our souls will be out and about,
To skip through a new morning dew.

(Published by The Society of Classical Poets Literary Journal, October 29, 2018.)


If I ever could come back,
Surely, I’d come back intact,
A pelican on the sea.

Floating on the air, I’ll fly,
Way above the earth, so high,
Happy to feel free.

The ocean as my breakfast nook,
I’ll eat raw fish, no need to cook,
The sea, my grocery store.

Each day a vacation at the beach,
Heaven will be within my reach.
How could I ask for more?

The other birds will be my friends,
No need to argue or make amends,
Knowing how to share.

Late in the day, the sun will set,
One last dive into water, so wet,
Then dry off in the air.

As the darkness comes o’er me,
The night, as peaceful as can be,
I will sleep until dawn.

After my evening rest is taken,
In the morning light, I’ll awaken
When darkness is gone.

It is the freedom I desire,
Which compels me to admire
The pelicans as they fly.

Such a life is truly blessed.
To be a pelican is the best.
If given a chance, I’ll try.

(Published by The Society of Classical Poets Literary Journal May 30, 2018)


“How does it feel to be a guinea pig?”
An old hobo, he did once ask of me.
It was dawn, the morning sun was rising.
Up all night, in a city park, were we.

On a sidewalk inside New York City,
We were much like mice, inside of some maze.
Wandering all around, as we hung out,
We stumbled about, as if in a daze.

We had a hard time comprehending it,
Even though it was clear for us to see:
We did not plan a life upon this earth,
But that is exactly what came to be.

It has been said, “Judge not, lest you be judged.”
One and all, we are in this together.
As each one must carry a heavy load,
Our existence is light as a feather.


Say all your prayers and mourn all the dead,
But much more killing is still ahead.
As long as these guns are in our lives,
Only a random number survives.

Empty words, they are always spoken,
The heart of society, broken.
Many say all we can do is pray.
Legislation’s for another day.

Second Amendment, suicide pact,
Now is the time for leaders to act.
Do something more than just offer prayers
And show us which of you really cares.


A concept is but a concept,
Existing only in the mind.
All of these words are thoughts,
Belonging to the human kind.

Objects exist in empty space.
Without eyes, there can be no sight.
The real world which we call nature,
It does contain no wrong or right.

Reality comes in many forms,
Many more than we can perceive.
All we know is what we do know
As the words which we conceive.


Good people have at their core,
Standards to be held on high.
A religion can be nothing more
Than a set of rules to live by.

Only the insane are truly atheistic,
Or agnostic and without any rules.
We all must strive to be realistic.
Those without any rules are fools.

Remove an O from the word GOOD.
Add a D to EVIL, it spells DEVIL.
GOD can then be fully understood,
And religion becomes on the level.

God and Devil are Right and Wrong,
Philosophical symbols in the mind.
Only good people will ever belong
To the Universal Church of the Kind.


In another lifetime
I was William Blake
When I saw his work
That was my take

He wrote about love
And the human heart
I thought I was him
Right from the start

He wrote about London
Tiger burning bright
His influence looms
In whatever I write

He wrote about life
The human abstract
I hope I was him
I hope it is fact

I flatter myself
To think I was him
Deep down I know
The chances are slim

His mystical presence
Burns like a fire
To be like him
Is to what I aspire

(Published by The Society of Classical Poets Literary Journal February 11, 2018)


As I wake up each morning
I breathe in my fresh air
I remember you are with me
I love that you are there

Whenever I think about you
It takes my breath away
I breathe a little easier
To know you’re here to stay

So breathe on me my lady
And love me if you can
Your love leaves me breathless
I’m your ever lovin’ man

You are like a precious stone
So rare beyond compare
Loving you is as easy
As breathing my fresh air


Ever notice how time goes by?
The clock upon the wall goes “Bong!”
Just like a bird, the time does fly,
Like an army, marches along.

The leaves on trees tumble and fall,
While the wind blows across tall grass.
Life is short, it matters at all?
We are born to live ’til we pass.

Passage of time, incremental,
Step by step, we grow and we age.
Memories, so sentimental,
Every day we turn a new page.

Our lives develop like a book,
With chapters, ever twisting plots;
Stories changing each time we look,
Our emotions tied up in knots.

At last, our bodies will expire,
Physical death comes on us fast.
Buried, entombed, consumed by fire,
As the future becomes the past.

Our journeys will take many turns,
As the road goes around the bend.
A lifetime, it crashes and burns.
The Book of Life comes to an end.