Another mass shooting, ho-hum.
Life in America is so humdrum.
Be proud of the land of the free;
The land of deadly opportunity.

Born with a right to own a gun,
Get prepared to duck and run,
Never knowing when bullets may fly,
Going to school means willing to die.

Another normal day in America land.
How many more deaths can we stand?
There seems to be no end in sight,
As long as owning guns is a right.

Second Amendment must be removed,
So life in America can be improved.
Most politicians are nothing but scum.
One more massacre, oh well, ho-hum.


Tonight I can sleep,
Though unhappy I am,
But I will not weep,
I will not give a damn.

I will lay my head
On this musty pillow.
Let this flophouse bed
Be my weeping willow.

One night off the street,
Let the morning come.
Life is so bittersweet
For this Bowery bum.

At the Sunshine hotel,
In this room of ten men.
Let the world go to hell,
It is where I have been.

Up early in the morning,
Breakfast on East Third.
Street preacher is warning,
With his message unheard.

Today at the Muny,
I renew my meal card.
The portions are puny.
This life is so hard.

Panhandling for booze,
White port will do.
I have nothing to lose,
That much is true.

All I need is a drink
To go sit in the park.
I will drink as I think
From morning ’til dark.

Someday I will awaken
Beside a peaceful stream.
May I not be forsaken
By this beautiful dream.


It seems that my search
Goes beyond any church.
I am not quite religious,
But I can still dig Jesus.

I believe in the bliss
That comes from all this.
I don’t need a preacher,
My life is my teacher.

We may say any prayer,
No matter how or where,
For as long as we can find
Some kind of peace of mind.

The fresh air at dawn,
The beauty of a fawn,
The wonder of a tree,
All of these are free.

Every colored leaf
Confirms my belief
About heaven on earth
And what it is worth.

No religious fervor
Can take me further.
No words could ever
Describe the forever.

(Published by Lone Stars Poetry Magazine Summer 2017)


The wind and the balmy breeze,
Blowing softly through the trees,
All the darkness of the night
Disappears in the morning light.

The shadows on the ground,
They do not make a sound.
Awakened birds, singing sweet,
Make the forest seem complete.

This world we call the earth,
Comes into focus upon birth,
For a brief moment in time,
In this universe sublime.


It seems Jesus was a communist,
In the best sense of the word.
You might say he was a socialist,
According to what I have heard.

One for all and all for everyone,
Give to those who have the least.
When everything is said and done,
All will be welcome at the feast.

In the world which Jesus wanted,
There would be no one in need.
All evil would be confronted,
No more selfishness or greed.

In the world in which he believed,
There would be no need for cops.
All are forgiven, all are received,
All the killing and violence stops.

In his world, there is no poverty,
No more hunger under the sun.
All would live a life of liberty.
All would live and love as one.

In his world, rivers flow clean.
Food will be grown all around.
Starvation will never be seen,
The bread of life will abound.

In his world, we will be free,
To live in harmony and peace.
In this world, we would see,
The fruitless fighting cease.

In his world, guilt and sin
Will soon be gone away.
The losers will go on to win.
It will be a brand new day.

In his world, our love will grow.
All hatred will no longer be.
Soon love will be all we know.
Love will be all that we see.

In his world, heaven will be now!
Pain and suffering will be stilled.
If mankind can survive somehow,
A union of souls will be fulfilled.

When all the hell does fade away,
The people will finally learn.
Ideas of Jesus will rule someday,
In this way, he will return.


Sometimes we are in heaven.
Sometimes we are in hell.
Mostly we are in between,
We know this story well.

Beyond our comprehension,
No matter how hard we try,
Eternity means here and now,
We need not wait ’til we die.


If ever you should beat him up,
Watch out or he may kill you.
If you punch him in the nose,
With bullets he may fill you.

If you walk in his neighborhood,
You had better not be black.
He will watch and follow you,
Make sure you don’t look back.

Walking around while black
Can be such a dangerous thing.
Better not walk to the store
To buy some candy or anything.

We live in a nation of guns.
We need our guns to feel free?
More than the right to live,
A right to kill means liberty?

The killer said it was God’s plan
And he would not change a thing.
But change must come to society
For the bells of justice to ring.


Why in the world are we here?
Why is there so much to fear?
What causes the laughter,
The death and the hereafter?

What causes all the crying?
Why do we need to be flying?
If we are born to be dying,
What is the point in trying?

What could be the point of life?
There is always so much strife.
Some drop dead in their prime,
Just a drop in the ocean of time.

Why should we even exist at all,
When we all are bound to fall?
Though life may be a mystery,
It makes no difference to a tree.

Why should we even want to exist,
When gone, we are hardly missed?
We have no value, whatsoever
Unless we can exist forever.

Life is full of pain and tension.
It is beyond our comprehension.
We must live, and then must die.
All we can do is wonder why.


Sick and tired of the bullshit,
There seems to be no end to it.
We accept war, without a doubt;
It seems we cannot go without.

Chemical weapons cross the line,
Bombs and bullets, those are fine.
War must be fought within the rules.
We live in a world of folly and fools.

On and on we think and we talk,
Lucky if we can drink or walk.
We kill each other by the score,
As we make a business of war.

Born into this species so sad,
Unable to know all war is bad,
Helplessly hoping for the day,
All the violence will go away.


A rat in a maze, I learned my trail.
I go to work, and I check my mail.
When the time comes, I always vote.
I play the game, don’t rock the boat.

I read the headlines as they go by.
I accept the norm, though with a sigh.
I stop at the signs, almost every time.
I don’t write it down, unless it’s a rhyme.

I watch all the news about all the killing,
Even though such news is so unfulfilling.
Caught in a maze, I was born this way.
No more can I do, no more can I say.