It was an ordinary life, filled with ennui and awesome moments,

A life of ups and downs of rejections, thrills, victories and atonements.

Went through my youth and did not get spattered by life,

There was a lot of confusion and but all in all not much strife.


Met the woman of my dreams and she consented to be my bride,

I manned up and decided it was time and then for a second I wanted to hide.

But I went through with the wedding and am I glad I did that,

It was fun and exciting and magical like pulling a rabbit out of a hat.


Kids came along in the usual way, and we counted to three,

Children are not easy to raise but my wife was the mainstay, the golfers tee.

They grew up fast and went in directions that made us proud,

They are unique, all parents say that, they stand out above the crowd.


And we now, retired to a decree in a home safe from the fire,

Our lives are completed and but our hopes have not expired.

Peace on earth was a favorite pass word of long ago,

But the pace to this race is tedious and we have a long way to go.


Maybe in the future the world will be fit and complete,

All in all our lives have been wonderful, compact and neat.

May all of you out there have the blessing we have had?

A moment of reflection from this old man, a proud man and Dad.


Valentine’s Day

Valentine’s Day is the day of love and peace,

No arguments from the lovers, no evil of the beast,

Candy and flowers and kisses a plenty,

Love is shinny and bright, love is a pretty penny.


It is a day with pictures of family and love,

A day of mutual understanding and the flutter of the dove,

One day out of the year that peace shall reign,

One day when people get along and no one is insane.


No jealousy, no hate, no fowl words bantered back and forth,

Peace forever where ever you are, east, west, south or north.

No guns a blazing, no slaughter, no wounds to nurse,

No one stating the negative, no one being adverse.


Just one day, twenty four hours of quiet and tranquility,

Valentine’s Day

The Clown and the Nerd

There is a fine line between the smile and the frown,

It is somewhere in the twilight zone, between a deep thinker and a clown.

In the classroom the clown shows the wit of a buffoon in heat,

But later in life he is the super salesperson who cannot be beat.

And the one who is glum, brilliant to a fault,

He is the pillar of the community, and yet he is like pepper without salt.

Complex in mind and confused when in doubt,

He solves tasks quickly but suffers anxiety with clout.

We are all in prison with our ego as the unseen wall,

We could accomplish much but we are all afraid of the fall.

Anguish surrounds us and there is no easy win,

We are like balloons floating until we hit a pin.

Let no man or woman stand and say they have no sin,

For ego abounds and the id can manipulate its evil within.

So we go and like a pinball bounce from one side to another,

We must remember we are all connected the clown and nerd both are my brother.

Why I blog.

I am confused and perplexed and in the throes of delusion.

I thought I could write but then my brain is on the fritz and in confusion.

Points I make are read and misinterpreted by some,

Some things I write are profound and some are dumb.


Readers are few and come and then go,

Maybe they are there or maybe buried in the snow.

Some think I am a hot commodity and read me a lot,

But I believe some are under the influence or just smoked pot.


But through it all some seem real and maybe I have reached a few,

The war vet, the girl who is young and some who photograph the view.

Some write and I follow their blogs with interest and glee,

And some then reciprocate and follow my blog, while sipping coffee or tea.


Some days I get a handful and some days it is a high,

Some days I blog nonsense and some days I soar and fly,

Numbers are meaning their meaning as they have advanced to the heights,

But some days they are slow and not coming and I am not in their sights.


But I blog on, the thrill is still there and I cannot believe I am read,

I will blog on for the rest of my life and consider doing it after I am dead.

I try not to be morbid and uplifting to say the least,

But blogging is its own animal and that animal is a beast.


Getting old and morphing to a new man.

Erosion of time is heavy on the heart,

I believe my body takes longer to start.

I awake in the morning and no longer pop out of bed,

At least I awaken for I would hate to be found dead.

The eyes adjust slower and my pace is slower than hell,

I do go to the bathroom to sprinkle into the well.

I look into the mirror and see an old man reflected,

It takes my brain to reconcile that that is me, I reckon.

I dress but no longer for success for I have retired from the rat race,

I no longer care about if my socks match, or if my shoes are laced.

I get coffee and drink it for now the day is in motion and I am set.

I have no more papers to grade, no more due dates to be met.

And so the main things in life are things that are normal and do not cause strife.

Lunch and dinner became a main stay, taking a nap became the order of the day.

So back to work I go for boredom is bad and I wish to avoid it,

I now work at LEGOLAND, Florida, where I see children smile and slow aging a bit.

Am I happy to go back to work and the routine?

To a point yes, activity and exercise in a spectacular scene.

A beauty park, children with a smile,

I hope to continue for quite a while.

The Mushroom and the Manure

He was surrounded by a load of manure.

It was everywhere and the stink was not demure.

It sapped into his skin and was absorbed by his body,

It was everywhere, it was so stank and ratty.


But low and behold he became the pride of the mushroom field,

His body was plucked and he was cleaned and pealed.

Put in the soup to be eaten with the chowder,

The magnificence of his torso now great and made into powder.


So manure has a purpose and do we absorb it when we consume?

Are we surrounded by it as we read, and take in the news?

Does it affect our values, our thoughts and our views?

Information for our consummation like the computer we use,

Our body digests knowledge which may not be true, do we have the clues?


What is true, what is contrived?

How do we know? How will truth survive?

The abstract Art of Life

Life is an abstract painting, where moments of one’s life stays in your brain.

Some of the elements of the painting make sense and others will make you insane.

Do you remember that day when you were you were caught in the storm and it poured rain?

Do you remember the day the sun beat down on you and the temperature was insane?


Remember the first love of your life, the time when love was pure and dreamlike?

Remember your first car ride where you drove, or when you put your child on his first bike?

Remember the pain and the time you had a tooth pulled,

Remember the day life went nuts and you thought something and was fooled?


Remember the passing of some, the birth of others and the sorrow and happy times?

Remember when the things you thought were written in stone eroded?

Remember the things you cherished with time they corroded?


We are in a world of fantasy with ying and yang playing their parts,

It is like the games we play, you weave and swerve to avoid the barb of the dart.

So in our life’s there are moments of reflection and wish I could do that again,

What will unfold? remember to be flexible and be ready to bend.

The insanity of the inane.

We are a world of contrasts between the insane and the inane,

We preach compassion and yet we kill, maim and inflict pain.

We state we want rights to be equal and yet we discriminate,

We put people on pedestals and then smash them as chum bait.


We wish to see the winner win and yet secretly applaud as they crash on the rocks,

We measure accomplishments by fifteen Warhol minutes and then turn back the clock.

We hope for salvation and would not recognize it when it comes,

We hate the room for too much peace and quiet and need the drone of the hum.


Why the separation and the segregation of so many in our society,

Why such animosity to other religions and the evils of piety,

Is there a solution to this and will we actually evolve,

I doubt it for these questions are complex and impossible to solve.





Coming to my Senses

Dear Lord, Thank You,

Thank you for colors that enhance my sense of sight,

Thank you for my taste buds which taste the savory flavors,

Thank you for my sense of touch which allow me to cradle my loved ones,

Thank you for my sense of hearing so I can hear the music of the angels,

And Thanks for my sense of smell, so I can smell the flowers blooming in the fields of gold.

I thank you for my life and the friends I have met on the journey. Thanks for the food in my belly and the love in my heart.

Signed a person who has come to their senses.


A salad on my plate,

My taste buds cannot wait.

Lettuce and tomato, red and green,

This is the best salad I have ever seen.

Cucumber slices and two slices of pickle,

My mouth senses the flavors and my tongue does tickle.

A few beets and a couple of slices of cheese, something to make my stomach say oh please.

Slices of green pepper and a few sprinkles of olive bits,

My anticipation is giving me waves of pleasure in fits,

A dab of dressing not smothering the delight,

Oh what a feast I am having tonight.