Some shit is always happening.
We cannot seem to get along.
This whole thing is maddening.
There is always something wrong.
There always has to be a war,
With bombs or sticks and stones.
Seems by now we’d war no more,
For the sake of our own bones.
After millions of years,
Mankind should have learned.
After billions of tears,
The killing should be spurned.
The offerings are burning,
Our gods condone war.
We need to start learning,
What the hell is war for?
The mission bells are ringing,
Establishing their existence.
The midnight bird is singing,
A dog barks in the distance.
The bird, it chirps at midnight.
It is the sound of eternity.
Its soul is found in moonlight,
Its existence a certainty.
(Published by Lone Stars Poetry Magazine, July 2018)
The universal soul
We all belong to.
Every living thing,
Everything we do.
It is all that does exist,
Every single entity.
Everything that ever was
And that will ever be.
The universe is a playground.
All of these things are toys.
We need eyes to look around,
And ears to hear the noise.
Nothing exists, unless we live,
And nothing there is to do.
Nothing to take, nor to give,
Nothing without me or you.
When we die, it goes away.
It is time to go home again.
Then someday, again we play,
Though we know not when.
(Published by Lone Stars Poetry Magazine, July, 2023)
Bombs are falling from the sky,
As the roadside bomb explodes.
No one stops to wonder why,
That is just the way it goes.
Armies stand at the ready.
The river of death still flows.
War drums are pounding steady.
That is just the way it goes.
Some of us starve, some relax,
No matter how the wind blows.
Rich and poor, those are the facts.
That is just the way it goes.
Many people have no homes.
Some spend a fortune on clothes.
One will find, wherever he roams,
That is just the way it goes.
From poverty, we look away,
Not our problem, we suppose.
It’s so easy for us to say,
That is just the way it goes.
Life is unfair, just a touch,
And not all inequity shows.
Do not worry all that much,
That is just the way it goes.
Raindrops running down the drain,
Upon the pavement that grows;
To our children we explain,
That is just the way it goes.
When you see homeless people on the street,
When you see people, with no food to eat,
You can thank your lucky stars, it’s not you.
The luck of the draw surely pulled you through.
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As the ghost of Phil Ochs goes walking by.
Whenever you see the floodwaters come,
The tsunami beats down, just like a drum,
Upon a house made of sticks and not bricks,
At the mercy of the wild waters’ tricks.
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As the ghost of Phil Ochs goes floating by.
Whenever a drone attacks a brother,
Fast asleep in the arms of his mother,
While the sister hides, deep inside a hole,
Death wreaks havoc upon her very soul.
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As the ghost of Phil Ochs goes flying by.
Whenever you see a child getting beat,
He cries and he hangs his head in defeat.
Whenever you see an old man abused,
Or an innocent man, falsely accused,
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As the ghost of Phil Ochs goes limping by.
When you see the massive poverty,
Without much hope for owning property;
The tragedies of the hungry and poor,
The refugees of genocide and war,
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As the ghost of Phil Ochs goes drifting by.
When you watch, as the starving baby dies,
His stomach is swollen, his mother cries,
Too weak to swat all the flies from his eyes,
While the rich man turns away and he sighs,
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As ghost of Phil Ochs goes crawling by.
So when you see the homeless on the street,
When you see people, with no food to eat,
You can thank your lucky stars, it’s not you.
The luck of the draw surely pulled you through.
There but for fortune, go you or go I,
As the ghost of Phil Ochs goes walking by.
(Published by The Society of Classical Poets Literary Journal Aug. 19, 2018)
I don’t need no million dollars,
I don’t need no fancy car.
All I need is your love baby,
You are my shooting star.
I don’t need no marijuana,
I don’t need no drug or pill.
All I need is your love darlin’
You are my biggest thrill.
I don’t need no fancy houses,
I don’t need no shiny ring.
All I need is your sweet lovin’
You’re my one and everything.
I don’t need no pretty flowers,
I don’t need no mountain high.
All I need is your sweet beauty,
I don’t have to wonder why.
I don’t need to go to heaven,
I don’t need to ever cry.
If l have you while I’m livin’
I’ll be happy when I die.
I don’t need no million dollars,
I don’t need no fancy car.
All I need is your love baby,
You are my shooting star.
There is no end to madness,
No end to now and then.
There is no end to sadness,
No end to where we’ve been.
There is no end to the war.
There is no end to the fight.
Whatever we are fighting for,
There is no end in sight.
There is no end to the hate.
There is no end to strife.
There is no end, as we wait,
There is no end to life.
There is no end to space.
There is no end to light.
No end to this rat race,
Or to the human plight.
There is no end to poverty,
No end to hunger and thirst,
No end to the inhumanity,
We must have seen the worst.
There is no end to the pain.
There is no end to pleasure.
Too much for us to explain,
A universe without measure.
There is no end or beginning.
There is no end of the line.
No end to losing and winning.
No end to yours and mine.
There is no end to positive,
No end to heaven and hell.
There is no end to negative,
Insofar as we all can tell.
There is no end, not ever,
No end to what takes place.
There is no end to forever.
The proof is before your face.
There is no end to love,
There is no end to rhyme,
No end to the stars above,
There is no end of time.
You are wise for your age,
Learned to turn the page,
Always had a good heart,
Empathetic from the start.
What a man you can be,
With the ability to see
The important things
That each life brings.
You have it all in you,
Deep down within you,
Even tempered and bold,
Like heroes of old.
The man of the hour.
The man with the power
To bring us together,
Us birds of a feather.
Standing on the on ramp,
Waiting for a ride,
Feeling kind of lonesome,
And restless inside.
Off to see the world,
Taking a little trip,
Hoping I will find out
What it means to be hip.
Taking to the highway,
Living on the road,
Every day a little brighter,
With a little lighter load.
Searching for an answer,
The question is unknown.
Heading nowhere special,
I fly to say “I’ve flown.”
Blowing with the wind,
The destination unclear.
Knowing I will get there
Without a doubt or fear.
With faith I will survive,
Knowing nature will provide,
Without food or money,
Using my thumb with pride.
Standing on the on ramp,
Inside the freeway sign,
Wherever the driver’s going,
It suits me just fine.
As long as we are going,
Exactly where, I don’t care.
I will sleep in his car,
And rest until we are there.
Next stop is Kansas City,
If I have to walk or run.
After that, who knows where?
Everywhere, before I’m done.
Then there will come a time,
And soon will come a day,
When I will find my home,
Where forever I will stay.
I will rest my bones,
My travels will be done,
The happiest man alive,
Here beneath the sun.
I am the king of the highway,
And I’m going to be home soon,
Where I can do things my way,
And dance to my own tune.