Questionable

I didn’t come
to lodge a complaint
it is what it is
it ain’t what it ain’t
it’s a pretty good joke
as far as I can see
even if the joke
seems to be on me

It’s likely that questionable
lifestyle choices resulted
in the current situation
and the traffic on a given road
is no guarantee of
a desirable destination

We want what we want
so we rationalize the finer
points of right and wrong
and if our ass winds up
in a sling that’s probably
where our ass belongs

So I didn’t come
to lodge a complaint
it is what it is
it ain’t what it ain’t
it’s a pretty good joke
as far as I can see
even if the joke
seems to be on me

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River of Years

If I’m here in a year
will I remember this day
will it be a point of light
or blend into the gray
will I remember the work
will I remember the play
will there be anything
left to say

I know that we
can’t remember them all
just the inevitable
rise and fall
of the tides of life
and the muse’s call
just have to try
and not drop the ball

And hope that there
is something to cheer
that we don’t too soon
give in to our fears
knowing our angels
are somewhere near
to help us still
be here in a year

But if I’m not please
forget my sins
forget my losses
remember my wins
forgive my reluctance
to go all in
know that I’m grateful
for the love that has been

Just hoping that on down
the river of years
it may matter to someone
that we were here

For More

A little quiet
conversation about
nothing much
with a good friend
nourishes the soul
like a gentle rain
on parched soil
comforts the heart
like laying down
in clean fresh
smelling linens
you want to go back
for more, like the
sea to the shore.

Endangered Species Blues

I’m feeling like an endangered species
longing for the twentieth century.
My cultural references go unrecognized,
memories I share cause a rolling of eyes.
Conversations I hear have foregone conclusions
they seem pointless as hip-hop country fusion
I watch old movies and shows on the tv station
because the new ones are mostly poor imitations.

I’m feeling like an endangered species
longing for the twentieth century.
The reaper keeps swinging that deadly blade
we keep saying good-by to connections we’ve made
til it gets a little lonely on the open trail
remembering the shelter that never failed
but keeping on keeping on seems to be what we do
even when we’ve got the endangered species blues

Grist

A new moon rises
in the pre-dawn skies
there are no bright lights
shining in my eyes
except an occasional headlight
as I make my way
to that place where they pay me
to spend my day

Not a mover or shaker
or much of a risk taker
I stay under the radar
as much as I can
that’s how it is
for a working man
who doesn’t expect
to hear his name
unless they are looking
for someone to blame

Just so much grist
in the economic mill
it’s a long road
and it’s all uphill
reasons to smile can be
hard to find
unless you are able
to free your mind
let your soul gaze down
on the noise and smoke
and wonder if they’d fix it
if they knew it was broke

When you get to the other end
the sun is sinking low
nobody telling you what to do
or where to go
unsure whether to cry or laugh
I guess the best we can hope for
is half and half

Hands

Some hands rock cradles
some hands rock boats
some hands just throw rocks
or grab you by the throat

Some hands pull you down
some hands pick your pocket
some hands hold the door open
some hands try to lock it

when you’ve fallen
some hands lift you up
when you’re thirsty
some hands hold a cup

when everything
just seems too much
the best hands just offer
a loving touch

Showing Up

When your heart is in exile
remembering when to smile
might be one of
the problems that you face

Trying to act normal
when you don’t know
what normal is
you might prefer to vanish
without a trace

but we keep showing up
and going through the motions
in the usual strangely
familiar places

Hoping and fearing
for the mask to be stripped away
a return to the light of day
and the state of earthly grace