Sunshine Sucks

I don’t like the sun
Blinds my eyes,
dulls my senses

Sunshine is too bright
Hides the shadows,
washes colors away

Actual sunshine
stops me from seeing well

Bright sunshine eliminates
any perspective of depth

Bright sunshine clouds
my perception of death

Bright blinding sunshine
Give me a dark day anytime

Give me a dark cloudy day
At least to see I do exist

Am not wiped out by
bloody sunshine
Disappearing in a blaze of
ugly white light 

4/23/00 Sunday Dinner

Elevator Eyes

We notice them instantly

Eyes that do not see
Eyes connecting with no one
Eyes never recognizing,
nor acknowledging

Humans detached
through non-seeing eyes
In reality disconnected
by unseeing minds

What is an elevator?
A cave in disguise,
reminding us
we are alone

An elevator,
a poppy field of eyes
No one sees or
even speaks

Our cave has evolved

Why have we not?

09/16/98 On plane, Nashville
to Seattle

A Bus with Wings

Flying was once fun
soaring in the sky
always on time
never late
edible food
friendly people
satisfied employees
b o u n d l e s s   s p a c e   d r e a m s 

Where is the joy of it now?
excitement
downsized
frustration
amplified
boredom
bound

Flying,
no longer an adventure
no longer soaring with shining eyes 

Flying,
a bus with wings
plodding
through
the
sky

9/16/98. Plane Nashville to Seattle
05/14/20. Re-Written

Car Wash Siesta

Clean cars
Rested minds
Temporary friends

A brief break

From errands

From stop lights

From pesky friends

From ringing phones

From irate customers

A few moments of rest

To gaze slowly

To read casually

To think leisurely

Clean cars and clear minds 

So much for so little

June 98 Waiting for car,

Pink Elephant Car Wash, Seattle

House Ghost

Noises flirting in the night
Smells floating on damp air

Ghosts
Always present,
seldom seen

A presence sensed by,
those of us receptive to hearing
A presence acknowledged by,
those of us having forgotten fear

Ghosts normally 

live in very old houses

The ghost is eternally 

stranded at home. 

A ghost’s house may be our home. The question!
Who's home is it?

The ghost’s home
Freedom or framed prison?
Ghosts exists in a world severely confined Only the ghost knows,
the true meaning of survival

Not everything we see we believe
Not everything we believe we see
The ghost knows this, uses this knowledge to survive

Ghosts
Image of life
Figure of beauty
Likeness of death
Reflection of our being
Reminder of the spiritual
side of living

Ghosts
A sign for us to learn
A signal for us to listen
A warning for us to understand,
there is life hereafter

08/28/98 Long Beach, WA.
Whalebone B&B

The Puppy 

Soft eyes
Wet kisses
Gentle nudges 

Drools, dribbles
and slobbers 

Nuzzles
Snuggles
Cuddles

Complete package
Child’s love 

Youth remembered

1/24/98. One of my first poems
rewritten sometime in 2007

Words for the Day

Keep ahead of the
pack at your back

Think peaceful feelings to
overcome pains of the body

Slow down to catch thoughts
speeding by unnoticed
or unrealized

Keep smiling as you experience each day from a different perspective than
what you had planned

 11/14/02 Seattle

Life is a Game

Life is a game
A pigskin review
A pigskin preview
Sometimes a sure bet
But mostly all wet

 01/04/01 Plane LA to O'hare

God's Game

Green pastures, soft
morning light

Rays of hope well within
Landing on green carpet
Diving in deep blue waters
Resting on grains of sands
   Hiding in forest deep,
or thick tall grass

Golf is God’s game
A sport fit for a King
A sport reflecting His splendor,
   and His pleasure of creation

A game fitting His vision
for us on earth
Happy and free
Loved and cherished
All while hitting a
small white ball 

Yes, golf is God’s game
Feeling the warm embrace of
   His green pastures

06/30

Ferry Time

I hate waiting in line for the ferry
I loathe sitting in my car,
stuck in the ferry line 

A ferry line is a wasted time
A ferry line is useless time
A ferry line is empty time

In a ferry line,
I might as well be dead
No good ever comes from
being in a line

If I am in a line, I don’t care if
I am at Heaven’s Gate
All I want is,
to get out of the line

Ferry line or ferry time
Who cares?
I don’t

How was I to know?
Living my life in Nebraska
Someone straight from
the flatlands  

How could I understand?

When friends said, “ferry time”

Anyway, it didn’t really matter

I was too busy to
worry about “ferry time”
I had appointments to make
Tight schedules to meet
I had things to do,
places to go

I was too harried to wonder
Too engrossed to ponder
Too busy to comprehend
What my friends meant by
"ferry time"

Finally,
I realized "ferry time"
is "just time"

But, time is our
most valued gift
Which was precisely their point

Accept the hour
Cherish each minute
Embrace every second
Make the most of time given

Ferry time is a
reminder we are alive
Ferry time is a warning
not to forget

We bet our life on time

5/14/99 Waiting for ferry, 

Seattle to Port Townsend, WA

Rock the Rock

Can you still hear the rock?
Rock blasting notes through
comfortable suburban nights

Can you still feel the rock?
Do you remember when,
rock was King?
Rock ruled the airways,
controlling a teenage universe
Rock’s deep base
reached adolescent souls
Souls as best defined
at sweet seventeen

Rock promised hidden
messages for eager young minds
Rock’s aggressive notes blew away popular but boring harmonious melodies.

Rock's blaring musical messages easily overcame average
suburban fare such as;

Escapades of the Beav
Big Hoss blunders
Swinging Dick C

Rock could reach young
suburban teenagers
Rock could capture tender
ears and small minds
Rock could capture our imagination, developing the potential to rebel

Thank goodness for hard Rock
Rock loosened our minds,
but prepared our souls
Rock opened our ears to,
music with a heavenly beat

Music out of this world
Music based on rock

Rock the rock
The Rock of All Ages

Who would have guessed?

03/24/1999 All night flight
Paris to Chicago

First Class Seating 

First class seating
Luxury or necessity?

Depends on your

personal outlook

Possibly your 

perception

of living

Maybe your perspective of life

Actually your point of view

Are you looking
upward to exalt?
Or looking downward
to survive

First class seats
I previously declared
first class seats a luxury
A luxury that certainly implies;
Not necessary
Non essential
Not a necessity of life

On thoughtful reflection,
maybe my words
were too harsh
Possibly I was overly judgmental
My conclusions
predetermined,
by my personal
point of view

First class seating

Why not?
If someone loves God,
If someone accepts His love
If someone gives their heart
and soul to the Lord

Why not travel first class,
with God as our pilot

05/19/00 Flight Memphis 

to Seattle