Failure to Communicate

You tell me how it should be
you tell me what I should see
you tell me how it all went wrong
you tell me who should not belong
you tell me what’s wrong and right
you tell me that the end is in sight
you tell me
you tell me

I tell you how it should be
I tell you what you should see
I tell you you should not judge
I tell you not to hold a grudge
I tell you we must stretch out our hands
I tell you we should try and understand
I tell you
I tell you

You tell me and I tell you
but there isn’t much that we can do
you tell me and I tell you
too much noise, not much getting through
If you listened to me and I listened to you
we might figure out what is true
you tell me
I tell you
you tell me
I tell you


Circumstances find me
in that building you hated
wandering the halls
a ghost in search of a ghost
rediscovering shortcuts
looking at familiar views
remembering little things
we used to do
to ease the time we had to spend
there, oddly wishing we
could do them again
with some kind of different end


Rules and routines
fall by the way
on the average of
about every day
the necessary not
always convenient
the preferred out of the question
the things you really want
just a wishful suggestion

But the world keeps turning
and everything changes
soon enough there’ll be
too much time on my hands
so take the lumps
that come in the gravy
pretend they’re part
of the master plan


I’d cut off my nose to spite my face
but what would my glasses sit on?
When I woke up I wouldn’t be able
to smell the coffee when it’s done.
Yes, cutting it off would be too extreme
and cause too many woes
I think a workable compromise
might be punching myself in the nose

Above and Beyond

You can’t make sense of senseless
no matter how you try
been at it for decades now
no closer to a reason why

What does make sense is families
and friends and yes, communities
loving each other
through heartaches and horrors
lifting each other
above and beyond
the how and why and where
being irrelevant compared
to what happens
from this moment on

Grain of Sand

Didn’t really expect to live this long
not that I’m complaining
I just try to get through the days
without too much explaining

Is the world my oyster
or am I its grain of sand?
Guess I’ll have to stay tuned
to see what God has planned


Low in the morning, high in the evening
the thermometer has the right idea
I could be high all the time
if I could only see ya
since that is impossible
I strive for an even keel
I try not to act crazy
even when that’s how I feel

Grandma said, “the devil hates a coward”
but I didn’t want him for a friend
he makes temptation so appealing
it’s hard not to give in
The fires he lights
are hard to extinguish
and the smoke makes it hard
to see your true wish

there’s a weariness that sets in
when you feel burned out
one of those conditions
you can’t do much about
try to get it home
before it crashes
lock yourself in
something may rise from the ashes