A poem for my Dad

It Doesn't Matter Where You Are

May be I didn't get your chin or your skin
Maybe unlike you my bones are thin
But what I got I need, I use
My humor, my wit, they amuse
There's another thing you gave me
Its more important than traits or skills
It heals, it warms, it soothes, it fills
Its love and that will last until
Or way past the end of time
Past the time my humor's gone
Past the time my wit is wrong
When my physical traits are seemingly changed
My face, my features rearranged
Your love, I'll feel as long as I live
Your love I feel even when you're not right here to give
I just know its there like the air we breathe
Because you're my Dad
And from my heart you can never leave.

Mother is the word for God

Mother is the word for God


The first we see.
The first to console.
The first to give peace
in a new world out of control.
You are everything.

It must be amazing to be a mother.

You give nutrition.
You give discipline.
You give comfort
both on the outside and within.
You are the one.

It is the most awesome responsibility.

Even now that I’m older;
Even now that I’m a father;
Even now that I pray to our God;
I look to you, my mother.

Mother is the word for God to all children and I am no different.

The Gift

The Gift

One in the world
None even close
Outshines a diamond
Brightest, I suppose

Unique like a snowflake
Tasty like some fries
Music to my ears
Symphony for my eyes

I’m lucky just to be with you
To be with you this morn
The greatest gift I ever knew
I’m glad that you were born

Who Stands to Gain

Who Stands to Gain?

Who stands to gain
From the pain that
Comes with the rain

Who spins the wheel
That picks the meal
That begins to heal
The pain that the poor feel

I’ve seen the answer at
The bottom of a bowl
I didn’t know what it was
So I just ate and ingested
And later in life when I heard the buzz
It was too late because the answer was digested

I had it again
It was in my notes
I had written it down
I found out the reason it floats
It was clear to me for that one moment
It was clear to me what those rocks at stonehenge meant
But then again with the flick of a pen
The words that I wrote
Became just marks of a chicken
And I knew that my life which had never been clear
Would be cloudy again
Would be not without fear
The fear that exists in the back of my mind
In the pit of the places that only I find

The irrational scare that can start from a tear
A nick in the fabric
That makes a healthy man sick
Sick in the head
Sick in the soul sick in the heart
And loose his control

So out on the streets
Out on my ass
Out in the rain
To feel the pain
The pain that came with the rain
And flooded my being

And of course the answer was me all along
I caused the pain
I take responsibility
But do I stand to gain.

Working Nights(at the CMS)

Working nights(at the CMS)

Dry air

Drifting mind

Heavy Eyes

Lights unkind

Background music

Tired souls

Lack of Work

Boredom rules

Cold room

Clock runs slow

Fluorescent lights

We should go

Half blank paper

Cold hard table

We would leave

But we're not able

Truth

Truth

They say the truth shall set you free

and why not, the truth shall be what it be

but then again as long as you feel within

that you are with out sin

that truth that you feel

that truth that you know to be true

the one deep inside of you

that truth

not the one you claim is not false

not the one that memory recalls

and plays out your mouth

like a pre-recorded sound-byte

or turning on and off the light

the one that stops you

makes you hesitate

makes you question about your fate

makes you re-evaluate

and exfoliate

the lies from your life

like the dead skin off your face

to face the world, to face your life

to face... the TRUTH.

Four men and one death

Four men and one death

a flick of my wrist

a snap of my fingers

a crack of my whip

a tap on my shoulder

I’m gone

I’m down

I’m dead

I should have been a salesman

there’s a body on the road

from the looks he’s quite a load

I could pick this body up

I could put him on the truck

there is quite a lot of room

for a quick and temporary tomb

we will drive him to his grave

for he’s too far gone to save

they brought me this corpse

this man, this life that’s run it’s course

I will cover up his face

I will dig his resting place

I will put him in the ground

I will fill it to a mound

when I finish with my fun

God will have him His will be done

As I wake I have this fear

for no sounds do I hear

it is dark and it is cold

does death have me in its hold

I cannot move my hand and arm

there it is again, I’ve bought the farm

but wait a second I must protest

there’s a beat inside my claustrophobic chest

it is my heart it does not lie

I’m alive I did not die

I hear a cry

Its from nearby

And while it is awful faint

Just a dream I’m sure it aint

I’m walking near the cemetery

And now I am awfully weary

But still this cry I can’t ignore

So I begin this dreadful chore

To find what it is I’m looking for

I zero in on that shrill whine

But its source I cannot find

I take ten minutes then ten again

The noise stops and that is when

I find the grave, I dig and dig

I find the box, it’s a big gig

I pry it open and there I find

A body that a soul has left behind