Course Of Course

Each tempest rearranges
the landscape of life
almost beyond recognition
to leave us bewildered at best
wondering just where
to begin to uncover
something like normal

nothing will ever be the same
it may be worse or better
but something will not be there
something we once thought
we could not live without
but there it went
and here we are

so pick up some debris
effect some repairs
until a patchwork
duct taped life emerges
you may limp down the road
with only three lug nuts on one wheel
but you can call it progress

the original destination
may be forgotten
destinations in general
may have no importance
but something will appear
on the horizon to make going on
feel like the best course
of course


Conflicting Opinions

We prayed for God
to divert the storm
we only felt a glancing blow
but someone was in the bullseye
were their prayers not as good
as ours? I’d like to know.

There are conflicting opinions
as to who’s being punished for what
but to the extent that His hand
is in this at all I believe
He is still trying to teach us
how desperately we need each other

If you go it alone
that’s how you arrive
what’s the point of that
are you really alive


I thought about painting a wall
so I could watch it dry
but it would probably fall down
I’m that kind of guy
I have a hard time making plans
that do not go awry
quit bothering years ago
trying to figure why

Sometimes for a change of pace
I plan multiple events
then watch them fall like dominoes
from the hideout’s window


I don’t want no trouble
but trouble, it will come
the only question left
is where’s it comin’ from?
Is someone out to get me
or do I bring it on myself
trying to hide from it
up here on my shelf

If I was shooting myself in the foot
with a real gun
the number of toes that I have
left would probably be none
maybe someday I will learn
to be what they call proactive
hate to lose that amateur status
but a person has to live

I don’t want no trouble
but trouble, it will come
the only question is,
where’s it coming from?
The world just won’t stick
to my script it’s true
just wish it was edited
in a language that I knew

By Lamplight

Gray days and misty nights
reading Eliot by lamplight
are not conducive to a cheerful mind.
 Damn, I’m ready for some sunshine.
September is too soon
for these wintry thoughts
of what we shouldn’t
and what we ought,
delicate clashes of yins and yangs
possible and impossible
pairs of opposites
just funhouse mirror images.
 The hell with that noise,
give me birds at the feeder,
a breeze rustling sun-kissed
leaves of red and gold
before they turn brown
and fall to the ground.

Not the Fire

I am not the fire
I am not the storm
I am just an old guy
trying to stay warm
on chilly nights
or cool on hot days
not much of a chance now
that I’ll change my ways

Never had any armor
never had a sword
never had a crystal ball
never had a ouija board
didn’t know what would happen
until it already did
when things got too scary
I might have run and hid

Not much of a plan
but it’s gotten me this far
I am not the storm
I am not the fire


The sky suggests tranquility
the nightbird sings, “we shall see”

Sometimes it takes so long to lose
you almost think you’re winning
until the dust finally settles
and you want to go back to the beginning

The pot swears the kettle is the blackest
the kettle doesn’t care
the kettle thinks it knows the truth
but is unwilling to share

And I don’t know what I’m gonna do with me
let alone another person
feeling like a little frog
some witch has put a curse on

The sky suggests tranquility
the nightbird sings, “we shall see”.