A Backpack of Regrets



Gotta keep moving
But its hard to run
When your burdened
With your past
Across your back
But I run away
Its what I always do
Stuff my backpack
With another regret
Hop on the rail
Count the miles
As they pass by
Consuming time
Finding aches
Until the time arrives
To run again
Ride on the sunsets
Glide on sunrises
Maybe its time to choose
One final station
Get off the train
And sleep





I’ve known joy, elation, and glee
I’ve known grief, rage, and pain
I’ve cried in a thunderstorm
Sang and danced in the rain
They’re just reflections of my perceptions
Or maybe a collective of misconceptions

What is Pleasure but
Desires reaped
From joys sown
A song unbound
Waiting to be sung
With totality of heart
The harvest of jubilation
From seeds of serenity
Rising of new days
Dances of excitement
Unbreakable smiles
Basking freely in
The Absence of sorrow
The desertion of pain


What is Pain but
The unmasking of joy
Disrobing of contentment
Standing alone
Emotionally naked
Void of élan
A fallen tree cries
But no one hears
Save its homeless residents
A blind man wails
Unable to resolve
The mystery of sight
An abused child quits
Unable to resolve
The mystery of night
A foreboding tale
Of love not met
Drenched in regret

What is Regret but
Chastisement of self
Over performance pernicious
Castigation blurred in fog
The haze of poor choice
Perhaps of inebriation
Of mind or soul
Self flagellation
Unable to forgive
Your own heart
For betraying it’s secrets
To a well of guilt’s
Which quenches no thirst
A lesson learned
Not a burden to the wind
But a winged flight
To a better future
Time offers perspective
Accept it

Unfinished Yesyerday




One day early


One day late

Today is the day

Make something happen



Don’t worry about tomorrow

It knows the way

Don’t live in your history

It never stays

Yesterday is gone

Today will be great



Tomorrow is a future someday way back when

Stay inside the now


Before it becomes yesterday

And re-occurs

As it always does

Not gonna fill my closet with regrets

Or store broken dreams hidden in my attic

Don’t wanna end up with a pile of would have beens

And mountains of wish I hads

Too steep to climb

Woulda coulda shoulda

Believe me I have scads

Wandering aimlessly

Procrastinated into complacency

Graciously waiting patiently

For hope to fill the vacancy

Now all the piles are swept away

And all I have left today

Is too many unfinished yesterdays

History is important

But the most important history

Is the history you make today


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