Magazine Posts

Over the river, through the trees, they came.
We were being over ran, in this war game.
We fought in the trenches, side by side,
but at battle end, we all had died.
Please say a prayer for my dear friend,
He fought bravely for you until the end.

Of all things, in this World I've seen,
there has never been anything
like a well oiled machine.
The sound of that clickety clack,
raised the hairs on your back.
A clatter of valves, camshaft of course,
the exhaust of the rear engine,
air cooled 911 Porsche.

I know not what I write,
I know not at all.
The words that pour out
are not mine I write,
for there seem to be no
thought in my mind,
other than writing the words.
Hopefully they're not trite
but have meaning to you,
it's for you that I care,
no matter the issue,
no matter the time,
my wish for you
is Peace and be kind.

You talk to me often
when at the mall.
If I ask you a question
you say, "I don't recall."
I tell you, "I love you"
that's easy to say,
but you don't seem
to hear me and walk away.
The sadness then
comes over me
and I pray once again
for you not to see,
my sadness
for this time of our life
and its destiny.

A bone chilling wind
branches laden with ice
power outages

There is no weeping.
There is no sound.
There is no pain.
There is nothing around.
There is no sadness.
There is nothing here.
There is I confess,
There is a place.
There will be too.
There is your face
Looking back at you.

I looked at the wall,
purple it was,
covered with vines
and a pinkish fuzz.
I saw some movement,
off to the side,
when I looked again
my eyes opened wide,
for there, by the trunk
of a short, squatty tree,
a creature was looking
directly at me.
A small creature,
about three feet tall,
something you'd find
if you went to the mall.
It had four legs
and a tail so very long,
I knew at a glance
that it didn't belong
here in the room
looking at me,
so I woke from my stupor
and set it free.
Free from my mind
where it's life began;
free to enter my dream
once more, again.

Oh, oh I said
as I turned the next page.
What happened here
is a small outrage.
A page out of order,
is what I saw,
an obvious error
or a simple flaw,
of my writing too fast,
of the words, that I know
that spray from my past.
Wait a minute; Just woah,
it's not a mistake
as it really does matter,
when writing the words
it is not idle chatter.

As a young boy my only wish
was to grab some bait and go fish.
Fish down the long crooked stream
till a meadow with grasses tall,
to a spot, now called South Center Mall,
which at the time that was so merry,
was occupied by the Golden Arrow Dairy.

I'm in the room.
You're there too.
I won't talk
unless you do.
There's no reason,
that is true.
Conversations, no kiss
except "what day is this?"
The TV listings
are her guide.
Lord, I don't know
what's now inside,
That beautiful mind
you always had,
Much smarter than me.
The loss of memory,
You're going through,
I can't imagine
what I would do.

I had joined the Naval Reserve
while in High School.
Went to meetings at night,
learned much and to do drills
and about all the rules in
the UCJ or Uniform Code of Justice,
as I recall.
Too much partying in College,
I needed to go on Active Duty.
It wasn't long and I had travel
authorized chits.
Over to Seattle, I went on the train,
out to the Naval pier by bus.
We were instructed to remove our clothes,
but keep on your socks and shoes.
Gave us a clipboard, with papers attached.
I was in line, we were going to get shots,
in each arm. Walked down the line,
with the clipboard in hand,
the only thing covering the sign of a Man.
But there is more to come.
I'll tell you soon.
More to tell you about
the shot over the Moon.

I was looking at her.
She looked my way.
I know not her name
Or if she wanted to play.
I loved her brown eyes
On this clear sunny day.
I walked over to talk
And ask of her name.
Would you go for a walk?
Would that be too lame?
A romantic interlude?
Oh I think not,
For our rendezvous
Was a grassy lot.
I rubbed behind her ear;
She liked it, I thought.
I patted her back,
It was so soft and dear.
I looked at her face
And her sad, lonely eyes
Knowing at a glance,
There was no reprise.
I loved this small dog,
For this did endear,
A love of this girl
Who was meant for me.