Incognito Hearts



An ashen image returned my stare
The mirror had cracked in kindness
The treasures of my passionate boyhood
Descended into memories of mediocrity
I collected my well seasoned masks
Tossed them in a weather worn case
To be placed  on a vacant train
Set them free to travel down the rails
It was time to leave the phony smiles
Shake off the misery of loneliness
Put on a new veil of unstained lace
But before I was able to walk upright
I needed to make my heart incognito
A chameleon hidden in a desert of pain
Camouflaged emotion in a jungle of steel
I must change the weary path I’ve gone
Restore the shine of the fading moon
Illuminate my beacon that had dimmed
Maybe meet a stranger and find destiny
No one should travel alone I was told
So my heart beat beside another once more
Begging for justice of the shared soul
Back on a shore where dreams were born
Two tired victims laughing hand in hand
As the ocean whispered stories of joy
The glowing sunrise revealed us it’s secrets
Offering the comfort of a brand new season
And heart to heart we two became survivors
Allowed love to unfold our forgotten pasts
For once in a world so exceedingly unfair
Incognito hearts offered up a minor victory
Because even one tiny infinitesimal win
A moment of elation that fulfills existence
Is better than another loss

Awaiting The Raven



Who owns that face
Look deeper
In the mirror
Do you see them?
Sad tired eyes
Echoing back
Tormented orbs
Dimensions of sorrow
Volumes of pain
Clouds of regret
Obscuring the view
But I see
Fragmented visions
Broken glass
Pieces of pasts
Vows crumbling
Degradation and humiliation
People pointing
Laughing from afar
Whispering rumors
Stinging sarcasm
Now I see the reflection
An old man waiting
To meet the Raven
Be brave old friend

There in the mirror
Image comes clearer
Hair of silver
Vaguely familiar
Lines from laughter
Deep of disaster
Tracks from tears
Shed over years
Who owns that face
Who’s been misplaced
That can’t be me
I look so hollow
A bitter pill to swallow
The anguish and rage
My refection has aged

I wasted so many breaths
Trying to change
What had already occurred
Can’t change the past
So I guess my advice
Would be this
Waste no time
Attempting to alter
What has come and gone
Focus your efforts
On forging a future
Bury your past
Because before you know it
You become a strained reflection of yourself
Awaiting the Raven

Live and Love in Peace

Cruel Trick Of Nature



One day you’re playing and running in the wind and then you blink. Now you have a job, a family, and it’s your own kids playing in the playgrounds of innocence. Then you blink again and your children are having children. After so much time has passed in what seems like a heartbeat you realize you understand much too late what all should understand. The playground is unfamiliar and too painful to negotiate. What a cruel trick of nature to give us knowledge long after we can use it to our benefit.




What kind of a trick is this? Mother natures practical joke. She can be so ironic it hurts to laugh


I try so hard to remember

Things I wish I could forget

Such a rotten cruel trick of nature

Leaving me to always drowning

In a pool of self regret

Treading but not sinking

Swimming without thinking

Floating without the passions of youth

The closer to death the more the wisdom

The lessons now so clear

Seemed so hard to reach

Once so damn far way

The washed up on my beach

And now when reason calls me

Much too tired to give the answer

What a cruel cruel trick she has

Mother Nature the necromancer




She leaves me a reminder

There in my playground

The scene forming behind her

Ghosts of lovers lay undisturbed

Pacing curiously

To where the past seems so absurd

That cruel trick of nature

Making us get old

With eyesight challenged through wisdom

I have the right answers

I see clearly through my prism

Left with out an alibi

Just a useless euphemism

What a cruel trick


The Meadows of Misgiving


While looking behind at yesterday pages
Tripped over a memory lacking legitimate aplomb
Mud hazed visions forced me cognizant to a knee
But repentance waned pale in futile effort reformed
First shackled then bound before sent to prison
In the meadows of my misgivings

Passed the pipe with my spiteful ghosts
Haunted by the commendation of the self
Sang with the spirits of what could have been
Melodic lamentations nostalgic of rueful musing
Until the weight of yesterday still held me firm
In the meadows of my misgivings

Wafting cyclones of foreboding thoughts
Compelling shivers of a malevolent dungeon
Recollection of nefarious performance’s passed
Leave me cognizant of my deficient morality
Sentenced a life of self imposed flogging
In the meadows of my misgivings