It was a long shot.

She looked too good.

I had to try hard,

I hoped she understood.

That I’m down now,

but I will regain.

My control over

my personal pain.

It’s not that I’m shy,

I just felt down.

I’m the kind of guy

who likes to fool around.

Since she was there,

I jumped in her game.

If she were someone else,

would I have played it the same?

So now we’re rapping.

It’s really not hard,

to talk to her now

that I’m in her yard.

Let me say

it’s not cool to be shy.

Just say; “Hello”.

And be a natural guy.


I know my site’s not pretty

I’m not real social at the moment. I’m working on real-time music and setting up my recording studio. Home style, of course.
Patience – man at work here.

Long Long Ago

This is a story of long ago.

The one where the man

stepped out of the wilderness

for the first time.


He looked around and thought,

hmm, this looks pretty good.


Then night fell.

He could not see the sky.

Could not find the stars.

This made him sad.


He went down to the river,

he could not drink the water.

He would not wash in the water.

He did not want to smell like that river.


He walked through the canyons

of glass and steel.

The air sickened his spirit.

He found no good foods growing.

This made him even sadder.


He came upon a young man.

He said; “Sit down with me son,

and I’ll tell you a story”.


I’ll tell you a story

of Long Long Ago.


When rivers ran clean

and the sky was all aglow.

When mountains and forests

were sacred places to go.


He turned to the young man

and said; “Now you tell me a story”.

The young man, still lost in wonder

had no words.

Just stared at the holes in his shoes.


I awoke into a dream.

It was the night the moon

fell from the sky.


The Moon


A strange pastel orange

rolled as a great wheel

across the garden royal.


Rolled, eclipsing the castle facade.

Having crushed the great paper

red roses bearing witness.

A red stained icon of her passing.

Leaned her great dark

against the too brown battlements

retiring her mystery

beneath the twinkling colors

of uniform stars.


The River


Tired of rushing unmoving,

stopped her pure blue manic

flowing to some mysterious

unknown place.

Living only in a child’s mind.


Romeo Screaming


Lent mirth to the disruption of all things.

Hysterical peals through a scattered land.

Chaos loosened feet, colors flying

through piccolo voices resounding from everywhere.


Ah, but Juliette.  Fair Juliette


With a single turn,

in the grace of angels,

stretched out her sequined arm.


Ah, Juliette.  Fair Juliette


With a single cry,

muting the flutes of Avalon.


Out sang the heavenly choir

accompanying the falling moon


By her single voice,

I slept out of my dream.


Daddy, Daddy, did you see me?


The house lights went on.


Haiku-grish: High mined title for an attempt at haiku in Reverse Engrish.  Does anyone know what the Japanese call our silly attempts at they’re tongue?

I often wonder how our English haiku translates into Japanese.

Since I love to write;

HAIKU # 1      *L*

Laughing monkey dances

while bird swallows rain.

HAIKU #2      ^L^


It really was a very pleasent strole.

I Came Alive

Who am I?

I was wondering.

So I Came Alive!


There is you.

Now I have

another drive.


Where am I?

I was wondering,

so I moved on.


Where are you?

Did you follow me,

did your heart lead you?


Who are we?

Are we one where once

there were two?


Look at me.

Am I

the mirror of you?


Oh, but it’s true.

I can not love

without you.


Do you need me?

I was wondering.

So I Came Alive.


Under sheets of red flames dancing.

Lay the glow of glorious lore.


Staring brightly on the gazer.

Shifting with each inner pore.


Dancing, twirling, madly spinning.

All around the cherry core.


Drumming, piping, chants and singing.

Open wide the shifting door.


From red to violet, white to cherry.

Into oil and back for more.


Pounding, folding, deeply glazing.

Draw Gaea’s steel for glorious war.



Long ago and far away…

I remember you

like it was yesterday.


I remember the kisses you gave…

Before we waved…goodbye.


So long ago…


Yesterday and days before.

I had to leave, for a distant shore.

Oh, it’s just the nature of war…

I might see you, Nevermore…


No no no more.

No no no more


Oh no…no…no.


The Forest

Take me down to The Forest.

I need a cool breeze.

Rest my soul in the shadow of those,

who know the ways of trees.


Take me down to The Forest.

The one with the bright green leaves.

Like pages of shinning glories,

written by those who still believe.


I need to heal my bleeding. 

I need to soothe my pain.

I need to see the fairies dancing 

in the flowering misty glade.


I need to turn a new leaf,

calm my wandering mind.

I need to turn a new page

and step beyond.


Take me down to the Forest.

Where the mouse loves to play.

Sink me into her deep deep roots

where I can bask in her many ways.


Take me down to The Forest.

A powerful passion play.

A new world order, yes,

but in a bright green way.


I need to air my spirit in the

green sparkles of the sun.

And welcome up a new day,

as The Forest sings as one!


If I come knocking,

open wide your door.

The branches above are reaching out

for each other forever more.


Take me down to The Forest.

I thank soft shadow and cool breeze.

I need to see the growing,

and the spreading of the seeds.


Take me down to The Forest.

Share the harvest please.

I need to taste of the bittersweet,

and bless the fruiting trees.



Somebody’s Shadow is hanging round my wall.

My window’s open in the rain.

The full moon’s chasing memories across my field.

I’m praying for one more crop of grain.


Seven years behind this lonely plow.

Seven years since I heard you call.

Seven years that shadow pulled me down the hall.

To where your picture hangs.


Ah Life!  What’s it going to be?

Will there be anything at all?

Ah life!  What’s it mean to me?

Did I misread the shadow on the wall?


I’ve seen your silhouette, in the morning fog.

Full moon hanging low.

One morning I will embrace that ghostly fog.

Where we’ll go, I don’t know.


Your shadow pulls me down that lonely hall.

Where seven generations hang.

To the end, where your eyes are still dancing,

in front of your picture frame.


Ah life!  What’s it going to be?

Will there be anything at all?

Ah life, what’s it mean to me?

Did I misread the shadow on the wall?


Seven years, that’s a long long time.

To be strapped behind this lonely plow.

I tried to leave, you know I did.

But you call, call, call me down that dusty hall.


Seven years your shadow pulled me down

to where your picture hangs.

I see your eyes. I see your smile.

I see room for one more frame.


Ah life!  What’s it going to be?

Will there be anything at all?

Ah life!  What’s it meant to me?

Will I become another shadow on the wall?


Ah life.