The Watch

Drip, drip goes the I.V.

the machine beeps

with each heart beat

as respiration’s are counted

beep, beep, beep

nurses enter pressing buttons

while he lays there unaware

as slowly his breath subsides

as the beeps dwindle

and respiration begins to fade

a nurses hand on his wrist

a tear from her eye as she watches

he slips into another place

no more will he suffer

the slings and arrows of hate

then the long sound

of the machine as it wails

matching her own grief

in the silence of her heart.


Your Story

Your story has sunk into my skin

dived through epidural layers

soaking through the membranes

to become a part of the greater story

the one we have shared all these years

your story has rooted itself

with roots that entwine the deepest parts

of my very being

feeding off the well of love

your story does not exhaust or deplete

it gives as much as it takes

it feeds until it becomes one with mine

and we live together

our souls singing in sweet harmony

I Need to Stop

I think I need to stop,

just stop.

Not slowdown,

not take it easy

no, just stop

just don’t move

and feel the earth

under my feet

feel the air

on my face,


as the trees rustle

and the birds sing.

Just stop


it’s the only way

to feel,



and know

that I’m connected

to this earth,

to nature’s movements,

connected to the stars

in the heavens

as they reflect

Divine love

in the dust we share.

To My Grandchildren who start another School Year

To my Grandchildren who start another school year.

Each of you are embarking on a new path,

one you have never trod before.

You will learn, be challenged and grow.

There will be hard days,

there will be easy days,

but each day is an opportunity.

Be aware, look at your fellow classmates,

look at the ones who shrink away,

who are quiet and shy, they need you.

Listen to what they say,

not just listen but hear them.

Allow your own hearts to grow,

not just in compassion but also in love for those who struggle.

Your own road will be tough enough,

the storms you encounter will be real

you will need others to help pull you through.

I am an old man,

I have walked my own path and weathered my own storms,

I am not here to tell you what to do,

for that will not dissuade you,

but I am here to listen.

Each of you is a gift,

a unique,

one of a kind,

full of life and love,

filled with light and joy.

Let that light shine even in the darkest days,

let not those who have no joy pull you down,

but rather allow your light to guide them

lifting up their broken hearts.

The world needs you,

I need you,

you are my lights,

my dearest grandchildren,

whose gift of laughter and joy lifts up my heart.

Poem on Love (lust)

I want to write

the perfect poem

about love,

that kind of love

full of lust

the kind

we don’t talk about

as lovers lay naked

in the midday

tongues meeting

the soft flesh,

slight flicker

that arouses

breath quickens

with each thrust

hips arching

seeking to satisfy


pent up desires,

that kind of love

where two are one

and everything else

doesn’t matter

except to feel

one another


and then die

in each other’s arms

in the madness

called love.