Tissues for your Issues

Like a flattering bathing suit

compliments were hurled at you

With reassurances at hand

I reached out and felt the grandstand

Senryus formed on your behalf

Like nursing a new baby calf

My sweet honey you did suckle

Soon the noose formed a belt buckle

The pity parties given without invitation

Later chastised your bleak indignation

Then I opened the box to dry you off

But a buried boned appeared when you coughed

Did I tickle your fancy

like King Necromancy?

Or did you see me as devil

way below your level?

It didn’t take a sleuth

to find the truth

You did it all yourself

by bringing down the shelf

Tissues for your issues are made just right

Perfectly packed though not air-tight

Better in a one-piece

To not show a tear or a crease

The sharks want you to swim

You should be used to them


La Femme Accident

Cold girl

Shivers in fur

Calculating her move

with the sure powerful

Only she knows

the renewal date of her

Tramp-stamped passport

Trading secrets too tender for legal

Though always legal to make one tender

Like a chameleon she pretends

Able to turn on love gestures

at the drop of sodium pentothal effects

Included in one’s IV line

Even a Green-Colonel wearing a beret

cowards to her talents

Yet she is able to get invited to dinner

and wash her laundry below the family room

Passion for her

does have an expiration date

And the gauge she professes

leave no powered residue

The young and impressionable can see

her true essence

Well, out of the mouths of babes

She is vilified

But she will never see herself in them

The many faces of wickedness

could succumb to joy

Though emotion is a sign of weakness

until a drink is ordered and left unattended

Let her pretend to pretend to not care

of their demise

About two steps behind her

before she changes her fur



The Ferryman and the Eagle

What paleness precedes

The Ferryman and the Eagle

Arriving with legal tender’s watchful eye

Even crumbled

it watches and often burns like it yearns

As if cultivating a harvest

it stretches beyond boundaries

Where tablecloths once flourished

picnics are back in session at home

Gone are the tele-commuted conference calls

Say welcome to the bedroom attire that

accompanies you to the local grocer

Every pence spent

reaches with anticipation of the next deposit

Maybe the stomach can be fooled

Maybe the mind will give the Ferryman a gift

this Christmas

A time for giving

But Ferryman takes something away

after every delivery

Confidence dwindles when asked who your provider is

No matter how you answer

the Ferryman giggles a bit heartier

Soon, the Eagle will feel the need to stop by


chirping every day, every minute, every hour

placing demands, making demands

expecting interest

as like peer pressure

The rut of unscheduled visits

Confusion becomes delusion

Until the Ferryman

lets you invite him in

 makes himself at home

Uncloaks himself

and settles in and watches with you

a reality TV show


Oh, Church is just a Fashion Show

Grand words

Statements are made

As they enter the doors

To hear the Gospel spread

A nod

A glimpse

Even from the preacher

while his wife sits close by

Gawking with jealousy

Orchestrated Amens

Applaud the podium

For attention

He knows

 who he wants next

White bears no sign of purity

just eagerness

to be eager

The sermon is so clear

as to who is to fear

Prepped to lay low

Oh, the Church is just a fashion show

A dress rehearsal for

the horn to blow

So the designer will

have his due fill

for the ears hear his skill

and tilt the till

Come see the Garden of Eden

bend Saville Rowe

while his wife sits by

and dare to show

just how often the blood does flow

It compels them all

To take the fall

Next Sunday is


And boys

rest high in banana hammocks

 and toys

and pretty things like socks

Why can’t I say Goodbye?


Sometimes I think you’ll go away

Or just stop calling me

Maybe you’ll send a note

Or return the letter I wrote


I can’t see why

I get to be the one to cry

Can’t I just walk away

Without a word or two to say


Why can’t I say goodbye

Without getting an answer from the sky

Just want to do it on my own

Sometimes it’s worth being alone


Seeing others dance at a ball

Me standing with my back against the wall

But it’s okay ‘cause I can dance

And it’s my chance to take a final stance


I may not know how to write or do math

And I just might never choose the right path

And though someone might not want me to say goodbye

Where were they before I said Hello to the sky


Why can’t I say goodbye

Do I still have a lesson to learn before I kiss the sky

Just want to feel free like a cloud

Then as I look down I will make somebody proud




The Time We Think We Have


What time we have

to spend with time

Since it spares no one

why should we wait for it


We party and dance

Some just wait for romance

Time becomes our chance

Maybe even by happenstance


Gracefully grow

And dare to show

Let time defy who is to know

the once drab but now glow


Time can pass by

those prone to cry

Alone they do ask why

But they can’t look up at the sky


Time can be a best friend

from beginning to end

For some can glitter and trend

Others seek broken hearts to mend


As you change time

It gives more poison than a dime

Pucker up like a lime

Smear on life oil like some gold slime


Maybe a pill

Will make it still

However we will it can kill

A little word can stalk at will


Just say, “Hello’ to time

Even through all sublime

Put all reason to rhyme

Know time loves only time


Lip-synching Life


It will dare you

To do it your own way

Many don’t

Many can’t

Many won’t

But they will show

that they can glow


You want to be

To be you want

Echoes and feedback scares

The needle scratches

  The heart tears

Is there a backup plan

 waiting in the grandstand?



 sang by choirs

Inventors of Prada

 created for liars

Hoping nothing comes to a halt

Keep in reach of the vault

 made on the pillar of salt


Must you imitate life

like it’s some strange delightful wife?

Castrate yourself for temporary fun

May a fist pump make you second to none

Soprano sounds do astound

 Though checking the family jewels

could get hung up in lost and found


Pretty pictures

Tiny scriptures

Unable to ad-lib

Holding a spoon and fork

Testing positive for the stork

Enya chants with motion

 minus v-fib