Staring at a Blank Piece of Paper

  I haven’t written anything in a while. This makes me nervous. I get an uneasy feeling like I am neglecting something. It’s a feeling that I should be doing something important instead of goofing off all day. But there is no one standing over me with a whip. No one telling me I have to do it. I don’t punch a clock or answer to a boss anymore. It’s not like I will or won’t get paid if I don’t write something. So far my writing hasn't brought me fame or fortune. So why do I bother? And why won’t this nagging feeling go away? Somehow, I do feel like I’m letting someone down. I know some of you guys take the time to read what I post on my blogs. And even a few of you have actually taken the time to read my books. I’m grateful for that. And I guess part of it is that I feel like I’m letting you down when I don’t write something. But it’s more than that. A big part of it is that I feel like I’m letting myself down. I feel like writing is my gift or God given talent that I’m squandering by not doing more with it. I guess that’s the worse part, and the bit that nags at me.

  My brother is an artist. He is in fact a very talented artist. But he spends more of his time painting signs rather than putting something brilliant on a piece of canvas. Of course I realize that he has to pay the bills and that his art, like my writing, hasn't done that for him. But there were times when I thought to myself that he was squandering such a tremendous gift and talent and, in fact, I have been guilty of telling others that my brother was wasting his talent. Part of that I guess is that I am envious of his gift. If it was something he inherited, those genes certainly skipped over me to get to him. I can’t draw a stick man that even looks like a decent stick man. But I can’t point fingers at him without realizing that I've been given a gift as well and haven’t done a whole heck of a lot with it either. There are all kinds of excuses I could make for this. But they would just be hollow excuses. All those years I let my gift sit on the shelf, as it were, and gather dust. Now it’s almost too late to do anything with it. After all, the human brain runs on borrowed time. My brain is not as nimble and flexible as it once was. And it gets worse all the time. Invention, writing, painting, music, sculpting, intuitive leaps in science are mostly a young man’s game (and by man I mean it in the general sense including both men and women in the term).

   So if it is too late for me, why do I still have this nagging feeling in the back of my mind? Is there something important there wanting to get out? Is there something that at least one of you really needs to see in writing to reaffirm or justify you in some way? Perhaps. Am I being grandiose by even thinking such things? Does God work wonders through me? Am I just an instrument whose strings are waiting for the right moment and player to be plucked in just such a way as to render music such as has never been heard before? I don’t know the answer to that. Where does imagination come from? Where does inspiration come from? I don’t’ know the answers to those either.  But I do know that you can paint just as brilliant a picture with words as you can with brushes and pigments. If you look at the two book covers above, you will see paintings that were lifted from the pages of my book and splashed upon a canvas. I thought my brother did a marvelous job of capturing my words and giving them color.

  But alas, he and I are getting on in years. And if you asked either of us why we didn't do more with our gifts, I’m sure you would get the same answer from us both. Life happened. We were busy with the details and didn't take the time out to see the bigger picture. Is it too late to change that? I hope not. I finally have the time and not a lot of life going on that requires so much of me.

  Now we come to my point. Yeah, you knew there had to be one, right? What gifts have you been given? And what have you done with them? Is your gift laying fallow waiting for some far off spring before it can sprout and come to fruition? Have you put it on a shelf promising yourself that you will make time for it “someday”?  And don’t tell me you weren't given a gift. We all have something that we’re good at. Something that we do just a little better than everything else we put our hands to. There is always something that gives us joy when we do take the time to indulge in it. Can you sing? Can you play music? Can you dance? Can you show compassion for others? Can you heal them when they are sick? Can you create characters on a stage that mirror us all and teach us lessons? Can you fight…yes there is a time for everything in its season. Can you lead or encourage and teach others how to use their gifts? What is your gift? Think about it. And then think about what you've done with it lately? One thing I've learned, unfortunately much too late, is that when we spend time using and developing our gifts it is the time we feel more alive than any other time in our life. If you've done like me, dust off your gift and use it. Don’t wait until it is too late. Don’t let the details of a busy life keep you from it. Find a way to work it in. Trust me, your life will be happier and much more fulfilled if you do. And you won’t be plagued by a nagging feeling that you should have done so much more with what you've been given. 

It’s In the Game: Part II

  They say it takes all kinds of people to make the world go around. I guess that’s true. The world is filled with all sorts of people that we have to deal with every day. Everywhere I’ve ever been, I have always managed to meet really good people. I was in Massachusetts for a year when I was in the army and met a wonderful family that invited me and a couple of my friends over for Thanksgiving Dinner since they had heard that we couldn’t make it home for the holiday. Afterwards we spent many weekends with them. They provided us with a car and showed us the sights. When I hear people say that, “All those damn Yankees up north are unfriendly,” I have to disagree. When I was stationed in the country of Panama for two years, my next door neighbors, Martin and Olga, became like substitute parents for my wife and I. They took us under their wing and protected us. We were shown around the country and met many of their friends and went to parties with them. And it has been like that everywhere I’ve ever been. There are many wonderful people in the world of all nationalities, religions, races and backgrounds.

  Of course, we have all run into the other kind. Everywhere I’ve been and in every job I have ever had there is always at least one that I can’t get along with, don’t like because of how they behave or that just rub me the wrong way from the get go. All of us know how to get along with the good ones. But what about the other kind? Let me tell you a little story about a person I had to deal with when I lived in Nashville, TN. From day one on my job there at Nortel Networks, this woman - one of my co-workers -didn’t like me. I don’t know why. I never did anything to her or said anything to her that was out of line. But for seven years she continually bad-mouthed me to our co-workers and the boss and back stabbed me every chance she got. My buddy would be outside in the smoke pen with her and come back and tell me, “Man you should hear what she’s saying about you now. You would really be mad if I told you.” I always told him not to tell me because it didn’t matter. And I told him that all I could do anyway about her was to pray for her. And I did. He couldn’t understand how I could say that or why I didn’t get upset at least. Other people’s opinions of me have never mattered much to me. But anyway, in all the seven years we worked in the same building I never said an unkind word to her or about her. Every day when I saw her I smiled and greeted her just like everyone else. Because of this woman, I didn’t get a raise for years because she convinced the boss I wasn’t a “team player”. I even let that go. Finally I moved on to our corporate office and left her behind. After another five years passed, I decided to move back to Texas. Before I left, I went back to the warehouse and said my goodbyes to everyone. This woman who had hated me all this time was the first to come and hug my neck telling me how much they were going to miss me. And she asked if she could talk to me privately before I left. When we were alone, she handed me a letter that she had intended to mail to me. She broke down and cried and told me how sorry she was for the way she had treated me all those years. She admitted that I had never done anything to wrong her. She said she couldn’t explain why she had been that way, but that she was now getting help for her many problems dealing with people. Prayer answered?

  So in life we all face, sometimes on a daily basis, selfish people, pushy people, angry people, mean spirited people, people who just think they are better than everyone else, and lots of other negative type human beings. It’s an inescapable fact of life. In part one of this article I told you about my new pastime of playing Battle Pirates. Since we can “chat” with one another in the game, you also meet all kinds of people there too. The biggest majority are awesome, generous, helpful and friendly people. I’ve been told that you can’t really get to know people on the internet. I beg to differ. Personalities come out there just as they do in “real life”. For instance, I know that Heidi Mouse is a very wonderful caring mother who adores her young daughter. I know that rjsmauraders is a good friend to have and will be excellent in his newly chosen health care profession as soon as he graduates. I know that KaBcruiser is a funny, vivacious cut-up on the surface but her waters run deep, and she has secrets she keeps from all of us. I know that n2xdr runs a “Daddy Daycare” and loves his and all children very much, and that he is a tireless and fearsome warrior of God. SheDevil I know personally. In the game she is a shameless flirt and mischief maker, but in real life she has a heart of gold. And then there’s Couyons. Couy is the leader of our little alliance. He’s all over the charts sometimes but always funny. And what Cajun do you know that doesn’t like to party and eat good food?And then there are guys like DeathbyTug, Kiwi, and Griff who have reached across the water with concern for an old guy like me who they don’t even know and will probably never meet to make sure that I’m ok.

  Those are just some of the good guys. But in the game, just like in real life, you have to deal with the other kind as well. Their mean spirit and animosity towards the rest of us comes out in everything they do and say. So how do you deal with them? When you cross over and yell at them and curse them, all you manage to do is be like them. And it reinforces the negative things they already think about you in the first place. You cannot defeat a negative with a negative. You only make it stronger. So when you come up against a beast of a human being in “real life” or in the game, the best ways to handle it is pray for them and walk away. When negativity is ignored it will eventually shrivel and die. Give it an audience, and it will only grow.

  So when I say, It’s In the Game, I mean that there is life in this game at least. It’s not all mindless posing. You make friends and maybe even enemies just like in real life, and you have to learn how to deal with that. You learn who you can count on and who you can’t. I’ve seen it happening over the past few years, and I’m sure it will continue to happen faster and faster where the real world and the virtual world start to converge. Someday, in the not too distant future, it may get harder and harder to distinguish between the two. Can you imagine playing battle pirates on something like the holo-deck of the Enterprise? I can see that day already rapidly approaching us. Let’s just hope we are all emotionally ready to deal with the folks we meet there whether they be computer generated ones like the evil drac or real ones who have entered the game with us. Interacting with all kinds of people is obviously one of the reasons why we’re here. After all, we could have been all the same like some herd animals or bees in a hive. But then we wouldn’t be human would we? And our chance for getting to know ourselves and others would be lost.

It’s In The Game: Part One

  You know when I got my first computer, back in the stone age of such things, I became very addicted to online chatting. My brother and I created a chat room of our own on mirc called “The Oasis Bar”. For a year that was our favorite virtual hangout. He and I had complete control over who was welcome in the bar and who was not, which was a function of mirc that made their chat rooms so much more desirable than those on AOL. Those were the days of dial up modems and slow download speeds, but the chat room worked pretty well most of the time. Tinman (me) and Muddog (my brother) could talk to people all over the world. We thought it was awesome. We had regular “customers” at the Oasis Bar who showed up every night. Muddog and I kept them entertained with our zany antics and it was fun. He would say something just a little bit bad and I would say, “Tinman rolls up a newspaper and hits Muddog on the nose with it – bad Muddog!” And he would come back with “Muddog gets a shotgun and shoots Tinman and uses him for a cheese grater.” It was fun and way more entertaining than anything on TV. And I got to know my brother a whole lot better even though at the time we lived eight hundred miles apart. When I was at work, all I could think about was getting home and slipping back into that virtual world. I was that addicted. For all that year, my wife was working evenings while I was working days. So being at the Oasis Bar probably kept me home and out of real ones and kept me out of trouble.

  After a year, things changed in my life and the computer world began to change more quickly than I could keep up with financially. The Oasis Bar closed down never to reopen again. Several years later, armed with a brand new computer and high speed cable internet, I got back on mirc to see what it would be like. It had changed. People weren’t just “chatting” anymore by typing what they had to say and waiting for a response. Most of them had gone to voice communications. And there was all this omg, bbl, wth, ggp, rofl, lmao, stuff going on with the ones who did still stoop to non-verbal communication (and I use the term lightly here – for nothing was being communicated to me). It was like I stumbled into a foreign language room, and I was the only one who didn’t speak the language. So I uninstalled the mirc software I had just downloaded and never went back again. The magic was gone.

  Three or four years ago I heard about something called “My Space” at work. I was encouraged by a friend to check it out. I did. I created my own myspace page. It allowed some communication with people I knew but was nothing like the old mirc chat rooms. I had e-mail of course, but it seemed like the novelty had worn off there too, and people quit using it. I may still have a My Space page out there…I don’t know. Facebook came along and blew My Space out of the water. Two years ago, I started my modest little facebook page with my one or two friends posting pictures and daily inconsequential stuff. Then all my relatives started getting on facebook too and were sending me friend requests. How cool was that? Now I have over two hundred friends on my friend list. I never had that many friends in real life. Hell, who am I kidding? I never had more friends than I could count on one hand with some fingers left over. So Facebook was an awesome way to keep in touch with friends and relatives on a daily basis, and I even got to know some relatives that I had never met face to face before.

  Through one of those relatives, I was invited to play a little game on Facebook called Farmville. I did for a while but it was one of those never ending games that only serves to kill a little time when you’re so bored you would go sit outside and watch the grass grow for entertainment. Then I retired. That changed a great deal of how I spent my time. Facebook became my link to the real world as I was feeling no longer connected to it in a real way otherwise. During the next two years I wrote three books to fill up the long isolated days and nights. It was something that had been bottled up in me for so many years and, when I uncorked that bottle, it just came gushing out. But with more changes in my life, that most of you are aware of and we won’t go into here, time became a vast wasteland that needed something mindless to fill it to keep the boogey man away.

  On a bored out of my mind day, one of those little thingies on the side of the Facebook page caught my eye inviting me to play a game called “Battle Pirates”. Hey there was an Errol Flynn time in my younger days when I dreamed about being a pirate plundering the high seas and saving damsels in distress. If I couldn’t be a real Indian, then I wanted to be a pirate. So I tried Battle Pirates and I’ve been addicted once again like I was to mirc in the olden days. In Battle Pirates you have your own island base that you have to defend and can build fleets of ships to go out and do battle with the evil drac empire or with your neighbors. You can also form alliances with neighbors and friends to pillage and plunder together while protecting each other from the bad guys. And more importantly, there’s a little chat window down in the bottom left hand corner of the screen enabling you to “talk” to everyone who is in the same sector as you. My pirate name is Crabbe. I googled historical pirate names and found an interesting one named John Crabbe. Now everyone mostly calls me Crab or Crabbie on there, and tells me to pinch my opponents with my claws or keep my eyestalk peeled for intruders.

  Like Farmville, Battle Pirates is one of those never ending games but, because of the interaction and ability to chat with other players at the same time as battling for your pirate life, the game is very addictive. The alliance I’m in is called SWAC (Salt Water Crocs), and is made up of people from all over the US, Great Britain, and even one guy from New Zealand.  Most of them are just as addicted to the game as I am. We all spend hours every day battling our mutual enemies, discussing improvements to our island defenses, building bigger and better fleets of ships and just chatting about our part of the real world. For me, it gives me a sense of not being alone in the world. I spend seven days a week basically alone and isolated. But this silly little game keeps me sane and in touch with what’s going on “out there”. It would be nice to have friends I see on a regular basis. But I don’t. So for now, my virtual friends will have to do. And some of them, by now, probably know more about me than some of my real friends and family do.

  So now I have something that keeps me grounded and, at the same time, keeps me from sinking into a very lonely abyss of sadness and despair. I shudder to think how these days would have gone for me back before we had the internet. Sometimes, late at night, talking to my pirate friends KaBcruiser, or her mate ssssspaz, or aCe, or rjsmarauders, or Twisted_Pyro, or n2xdr helps me make it through a very tough time. So if you ever find yourself lonely and bored, jump on board matey – adventure awaits you. There are lots of scallywags out there that need to be taught a lesson. So all hands on deck, grab your swords, and join the battle alongside the good Captain Crabbe.  You never know whose life you might help save and what interesting people you might meet that you never would have otherwise. Arrrrrrrrrg!

Watching Leaves Fall

Part II of The Secret Life of Trees

  This morning, like every morning, I sat outside and drank my coffee on my front deck. It is very mild and humidity free for a mid-August, Southeast Texas day. I noticed that several leaves on the sweet gum trees and oaks have already begun to turn yellow. Signs of an early fall perhaps? There was not a breeze of any sort. No leaf rustled or moved. The birds were even unusually quiet. Calm. And just as I looked one of the yellow leaves turned loose and began a slow motion, fluttering dance to the ground. This dance was repeated several times as I finished my cup of coffee. I am surrounded by beautiful sweet gum, oak, very tall majestic pines, and even one large magnolia tree. Green. Green in every direction I look. With the falling of that first leaf, however, I am reminded that all of it will soon change. The leaves will fall, the grass will turn brown, and the flowers will fade. The color will be washed away like paint on a canvas left out in the rain. With that first leaf that fluttered to the ground, sadness overtook me. But somehow mixed with that sadness is a sense of joy as well. I like the cooler weather of fall and winter. And even as that first leaf hit the ground there is a promise of rebirth. I take it for granted that spring will follow winter. Renewal is guaranteed. I don’t question it. I know that spring will come. It is not a question of faith or belief. I know it.

  In our lives we too are like the trees. We have our spring, summer, fall, and winter. In such a cycle, I am very aware that I have reached the fall of my life. In a way that realization brings me the same twinge of sadness that I felt watching that first leaf fall. I know winter is coming. For me to think that there is no promise of some sort of spring to follow winter would plunge me into the deepest melancholy that I would never be able to find my way out of again. But just like I know there will be a spring in nature, I know that there is a spring awaiting me as well. For me, it is not a matter of faith or belief. I know it with a deep down understanding that I can never explain to or convince anyone of. How do I know it? How can I be sure that my knowledge is not just wishful thinking? That I don’t know. But somehow, when I examine it closely, I just know that the end of this life is not the end of me. That knowledge gives me comfort and the will to push on.

  To each of us individually, all the people we know, care about, and love are like so many leafs on the branches of our lives. One by one they fade and fall away from us. It is very hard to escape the sadness of their falling away. Does the tree mourn each leaf that falls? Probably. But in its quiet winter repose, deep down it knows that new leaves will grow and take their place. Someday the tree itself will fall away, making room for new trees to grow and prosper. Such is the way of life. Will its fellow trees miss it and mourn its passing? I for one think they do. But why must it be so? Many have asked me that question. Why does entropy exist in all things? Why did simple life become more and more complex? And why does complexity ultimately decay and fall back into simplicity again. Why do things seem to evolve or adapt? Why do things change? Simple life forms with only single cells existed for millions and millions of years and were doing just fine apparently. What was the impetus that pushed them towards complexity? Why couldn't single cell life forms have been the be all and end all of existence? Why couldn't each cell have been so perfect that it was immortal? Questions like these lead me to believe that there is much more going on than life just being life.

  When you get down to it, we and the trees according to the biologists are just a collection of chemicals and chemical reactions. To the physicists we are just a collection of atoms. To the quantum physicists we are not even that. Instead we are sub-atomic packets of potential energy that only exists in this reality when an observer is observing them. Are chemicals alive? Are atoms? A piece of metal is made up of some of the same atoms that we are supposedly made up of. Is it alive? Life then is apparently something other than and greater than the sum of our parts. The individual parts (atoms or chemicals or packets of energy) are not by definition alive. And no matter how many of them you stack on top of one another can they be said to be alive. But yet we and the trees live. I am confident that the essence that breathes life into lifeless things is what really matters and is perfect and eternal. Call that essence what you like. But it is the knowledge of that essence that gives me hope and keeps me putting one foot before the other. I cannot express these sentiments so well as Emerson, Longfellow, Tennyson, and Frost – my favorite poets. But they studied nature and very much tried to express these same understandings with all the eloquence of language they could muster. By studying nature they somehow came to the same conclusion – that there is so much more to life than just living and dying. So much more as Tennyson put it than nature simply being “red in tooth and claw”.

The Secret Life of Trees

  I've been saying it for years and, if you read my books, you already know what I think about the plant kingdom. The other day I watched an episode of “Through the Wormhole” with Morgan Freeman on the Science Channel that broached the subject of plant intelligence and communication. So science is finally catching up to what I've known for a very long time. I also read an article by a strict vegetarian today that was putting forth the argument that it was somehow immoral to take the life of another animal for food. So I decided I would examine the question here for those of you who might be swayed by such fuzzy logic. Is it immoral to take the life of another creature so that we may live? I personally don’t see how we could avoid it. At least as we exist today. I will get into more on that later.

  First of all plants or the vegetable kingdom predates the animal kingdom by many millions of years. The plant kingdom had to be here for a very long time to produce enough oxygen in what would have been a very poisonous atmosphere for us. Until the oxygen level was high enough, animal life as we know it wasn't possible. And just what is oxygen anyway? Technically, it is a waste product produced by plants during photosynthesis. So what plants exhale as a waste product, we inhale as a life giving substance. So basically we are parasites of plant waste. Not a pleasant thought I know. But let’s look at it a little deeper. Most all plants harvest sunlight directly for food and energy. Without sunlight, they die. It wasn't until enough plants existed on Earth to create an oxygen rich atmosphere that animals were able to emerge - first in the oceans, and then on dry land. Animals could not harvest sunlight directly for food as the plants did. Animals were totally dependent on plants, harvesting them instead, stealing the nutrients and minerals plants created from sunlight. In other words, animals were parasites which probably developed as a way for nature to keep the plant kingdom in check. So the first wave of animals was plant eaters. But they in turn grew numerous and threatened to overwhelm the plant kingdom. So a new sort of animal came about. One who was too lazy to harvest plants for themselves and fed upon plant eaters instead stealing the life giving nutrients and minerals from the thieves who had stolen them from the plants. This kept the plant eaters in check. Humans at first fell into this category. We were meat eaters. We survived by killing and eating plant eaters and even sometimes our fellow meat eaters. We may have been nature’s answer to the meat eaters to keep them from overwhelming the plant eaters.  Sure we were eventually able to sometimes supplement our diet with fruits and nuts we found along the way. But it was meat that kept us alive. It was a very long time before our human ancestors learned to become at least partial plant harvesters themselves.

  We are fond of the idea that in all of evolution, humans are the only creatures that have developed intelligence, feelings, and self-awareness. But is that really true? I and many others, including a growing number of scientists, think not. It has been demonstrated scientifically now that plants do communicate, are self-aware, and conscious of their surroundings. They communicate both through chemicals and pheromones and with sounds that are out of the human range of hearing. Furthermore there is growing evidence that they cooperate with their neighbors at times sending them life giving energy when they are in need. It has been shown that when a caterpillar starts eating a leaf on a plant, the plant is able to send out a pheromone that attracts wasps. A wasp comes in response and stings and eats the caterpillar. So who is using who here? When you really think deeply on the subject, you can see a wide web of symbiotic arrangements going on between the plant and the animal kingdoms. And perhaps even an age old struggle between the forest plants and grasses for space upon the surface of the world – each with its various armies of allies in the animal kingdom.  

  So with all this and much more evidence in mind that plants are living, problem solving, self-aware beings, the question arises – Is it moral to take their lives and eat them in preference to taking the life and eating our fellow members of the animal kingdom? My own observation is that something must give up its life or life potential for us to survive. We cannot harvest sunlight directly or live very long by eating dirt. That is just a fact of where we are in the food chain. Morality has nothing to do with it. So if you choose to only eat plants and their seeds (ignoring the fact that in the process you are probably eating countless billions of microbes who are technically members of the animal kingdom) you are still taking lives. As I said, something has to give up its life for you to be here. In nature’s grand scheme of things, it makes very little difference which kingdom you feed upon. All nature is concerned with is maintaining the balance.

  Now if you choose to eat plants over animals because you think it is healthier – then in today’s world I might agree with you there. With the growth hormones and antibiotics we inject into our meat supply that is then transmitted to you by eating it, you could make a very strong case against eating meat. But with the increasing use of pesticides and genetic modifications of our plants and vegetables that we consume, the risks to your health are beginning to even out.

  Now I don’t know how many of you ever watched the sci-fi series called “Farscape” on TV. But if you did, you know there was a character on there that was neither strictly animal or plant but a combination of both. She was able to feed directly on sunlight. And in fact she suffered when she was unable to do so. I would put forward that to escape the niche we’re in of feeding on other living organisms, it would be a very worthy goal for our genetic engineers in the future to modify the human genome in such a way as to enable us to also do as the plants do and harvest the life giving starlight directly through our skin. Would we still be human in such a case? Who knows? But I suspect in the future, if we survive the next few years, such choices will come up and need to be considered long and hard.

  So, in conclusion, making the choice to become a vegetarian for moral reasons is pretty ludicrous at best. And the health benefits are dwindling as we speak. So eat up my friends. Right now you don’t have much choice. Just be aware of the fact that life sacrifices for life. And give thanks that such sacrifices are made on a daily basis to enable you to be here at least for a little while longer. Give thanks and try not to dwell on it too much the next time you’re taking that big bite of yogurt, or pork chop, or spinach. 

Getting Through It

  Robert Frost once said that, “The best way out is always through.” But what if Lonely comes to visit, and then overstays his welcome? And worse, invites his friends Despair, Depression, and Sadness to pile on.  How do you get through that? I’m at a point in my life where I find that I’m facing it alone. And I’ve never been one to do alone very well. Oh, I was very much the loner when I was young. But that was mostly because I was so shy I had a hard time making friends. I outgrew the shyness in time. I still never had a lot of friends, but my significant other always became my best friend. When that becomes the habit of your life, it’s a hard one to break. It would have been nice to have had the same best friend for my entire life. I mean that’s the way it is supposed to be right? That’s the way it is in fairy tales and movies. And when we see a couple celebrating fifty years of marriage or more, we all are happy for them and want the same thing. At least most of us do. At least I always did. But it didn’t work out like that for me. I was married four times (albeit to only three different women) and had some pretty significant relationships in between. When one of those ended I grieved, but I didn’t panic. Because deep down I knew that another relationship was just around the corner. All I had to do was like Mr. Frost suggested - walk through the grief, and then turn that corner.

  But this time it’s different. My best friend is gone. I’m doing my best to work through the grief. But I see no corner to turn. So what do I do now? That’s not a rhetorical question my friends. I really do need answers. See that little comment thingy down at the bottom of this article. I really do expect it to light up with your brilliance, because I’m in the dark over here. And if there’s a way through this I must be missing it. And yes I know that I’m not truly alone. I know that the Lord is with me and that I’m never truly alone. And that is a comfort. But yet there is still this empty feeling inside that won’t go away. I know that I now have two of my very best friends on the other side watching over me and waiting for me. My soul can’t wait to fly to them. But in the meantime, I’m dealing with the here and now. I don’t foresee a new woman coming into my life and becoming my new best friend forever. I’m really very afraid of that, because I fear the risk of having to go through all this again. I never thought I would outlive anyone. Yet here I am.

  So I spend my days with trivial things and menial chores. But each day quickly becomes like the previous one. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not asking for pity or sympathy here. I’m asking for solutions to getting rid of my uninvited guests. I’m asking for ideas on how to get through something that doesn’t seem to have an “other side” to head towards. If any of you experienced the same thing I’m going through, please tell me how you got through it. I know it’s a process and sometimes it takes time. But I don’t seem to be moving through anything here. I’m at a standstill. And I know that just sitting down and waiting for the end to come is not what I want to do. So I don’t want to become any more acquainted with those uninvited guests I mentioned than I already am. And I don’t want to stay where I’m at in life. So what’s next? Where do I go from here? I will pray and have been praying about it. Maybe my answer will come through one of you guys. And that would be just as awesome as if God came and told me what to do in person.

  While I’m waiting to hear from you, I would remind you that if you have a significant other in your life never take that for granted. Cherish every moment you get to spend with your best friend forever. Because sometimes forever is not as long as you might think. 

The Meaning of Life

  Sometimes, as we grow older, we tend to become a little more philosophical. We start to look at the bigger picture and ask ourselves those really hard questions. Questions like: Is there a God? How did we get here? Are we alone in the Universe? And what exactly is the meaning of Life? Well I guess I’ve always been a little more inquisitive than most. I’ve asked myself these questions basically all my life. However, now that I am so much older, these questions do weigh more heavily on my mind. And I’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying to figure out some answers. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far. Is there a God? Yes. And if you ask how I know this to be true, the answer is I don’t.  I simply chose to believe this because I don’t like the alternative. How did we get here? Again we’re dealing with my beliefs here because science and its theory of evolution have not convinced me otherwise. I believe that God created the system we find ourselves in, and then breathed life into it. Did He/She/It (or IAM – if you prefer) create man out of dust like the Bible says? Maybe not. Did man and life in general evolve from inanimate matter into living organisms strictly as some kind of cosmic accident? I think definitely not. Are we alone in the universe? Don’t be ridiculous. And does the I AM care more about one part of his creation than another – again don’t be ridiculous.

  So with the above given mindset, let’s get on with the biggy. What is the meaning of life? And as a precursor: does life have to have a meaning?  You know this morning I sat outside on my deck watching a very contented cat playing in the yard chasing and pouncing on leaves. My cat doesn’t worry about anything but her next meal, playing, sleeping, and practicing her hunting skills. She was a very good caring mother for the one litter of kittens I allowed her to have. But does her life have meaning beyond that? Scientists would say that her kind fills an evolutionary niche and that her life has no validity beyond that. I’m not so sure about that. They say the same thing about us by the way. I would argue all day about that one. And if those arguments I would make are valid for me, I would think they would also be valid for my cat and any other life form as far as that goes.

  But let’s limit ourselves to human life at the moment – we tend to be a little egocentric that way anyhow. What exactly is our purpose for being? Most of us spend at least four fifths of our life working at some job or another. Were we born to be carpenters, welders, bankers, teachers, lawyers, doctors, politicians, etc.? And is the sole point of these pursuits to garner for ourselves the basic necessities of life like food, shelter, and procreation? We certainly spend an inordinate amount of our time worrying about those things. But most of us go way beyond securing the basic necessities.  In the good old USA, we are also driven by rampant materialism to procure the so called “American Dream”.  To Wall Street and corporate America, it would seem that our only purpose is to accumulate stuff. But why? Why do we need so much stuff? We can’t take it with us when we die. Most of the time, our kids have accumulated their own stuff and don’t really need ours piled on top after we’re gone.

  So I’m more and more convinced that we are the victims of a gigantic scheme to keep us continuously in bondage chained to the grind stone like beasts of burden – dumbed down and thoughtless about our real purpose for being here. Those who have engineered this grand scheme have always profited greatly from the fruits of our labor. But just like the rest of us, they can’t take those profits with them. But they don’t seem to worry so much about that. Their only concern seems to be the same as King Midas - how big the pile of gold in front of them is. They have determined that to achieve their goal of always amassing great piles of wealth for its own sake their best bet is to keep society materialistic, atheistic, and to this end ensure that they remain thoughtless automatons.  So is this the meaning of life? Is it your conscious desire to be a thoughtless automaton in the big machine of industrial society? If so, then welcome to your dreary life. Is this your only purpose for being here? And if so, what exactly is the point? Why do we bother? Why would/should we? If such a society would go down in flames tomorrow, what would it matter? The Universe would go on without blinking an eye. No one or nothing would care. The whole thing would have been one gigantic waste of time. Sooner or later that will come to pass for each of us and all of humanity. If I truly believed that this was the only purpose for me being here, I would end it now. Accumulating stuff has never been all that important to me and not what life is or should be all about. To my mind, the only thing really worth having, and the one thing you can take with you, is love. Can you love if your mind is filled with the want and pursuit of material things? Can you love if your mind is filled with hate and jealousy?

  So my answer to the question of what is our purpose or the meaning of life would be love. To love others, love life, love the one who gave us life. Most of us already love ourselves when we get here. That is no big accomplishment. But to learn to love other than ourselves seems to me to be the whole reason why we’re here. To love unconditionally is no easy thing. It’s something that many of us sadly never achieve. But it is the one thing that makes all the rest of it worthwhile. So before it’s too late, maybe you should take a little time to examine your own life. Is way too much of it spent on worrying about stuff? Is your heart filled with want, or is it overflowing with love? It’s a simple question and seemingly a simple answer. It’s what Jesus was said to have harped on. A heart filled with love is less likely to go astray. One filled with want is more likely to commit sins against his/her fellow man. Therefore, maybe the ultimate purpose for life really is as simple as you’re here to make a choice. So what’s it going to be? Will you choose love and a righteous path? Or will you choose never ending materialism scratching and clawing your way to more and more stuff?  No matter how old you are, you still have time to make the choice.   

Living Alone

  Living alone sounds exciting to some and distasteful to others. It just depends mostly on your personality and perspective. My own circumstances are well known to most of you, and I now find myself living alone. Here’s what I’ve noticed so far. It’s quite lonely. Well, that’s obvious you might say. But have you ever lived completely alone for any extended period of time? I haven’t really. I grew up in a family with six of us kids in a two bedroom house in Port Arthur, Tx.  My four brothers and I slept in one bedroom and my parents in the other. My sister slept on a hide-away-bed in the living room. It was not the best situation in the world for her, and I often felt sorry for the poor girl. But it was crowded to say the least. And don’t even get me started on the one bathroom routine in the mornings. It was extremely hard in those circumstances to have a moment’s peace. Privacy was something you could only dream about. And I did…a lot! I also escaped into books which was the only place I could ignore the hubbub of my surroundings. I read about Henry David Thoreau and started making plans to find my own Walden Pond.  I used to beg my mother to admit that I was adopted and send me back to the family I was supposed to be with…you know the one with maybe one other kid and a bedroom for each of us. But it was to no avail. Mom claimed me no matter what. And I guess that was a good thing in the long run as I ended up living with her a couple or three times when I suddenly found myself homeless due to failed marriages or relationships. Good ole’ mom always kept me from landing on the streets when my rollercoaster life dumped me unceremoniously on my keester.

  When I graduated from High School, I joined the Army. Not because that’s what I had in mind to do, but because my good old Uncle Sam didn’t want me to be lonely, and he insisted I be all I could be. Growing up in my kind of family was good training for the Army Life.  In basic training I got to share a room with three other guys, a latrine with two hundred, and a mess  hall with several hundred. In advanced training, and the first year in The Republic of Panama, I shared a barracks with fifty to two hundred other guys. Privacy was out the window. Being a shy, reserved, and very modest kind of guy back then made those times traumatic for me I assure you. But I adapted. And I survived. It was a blessing when I came home on leave and got married to the love of my life. When my darling wife joined me in Panama City, it was just the two of us. Those were blissful days. It was hot, steamy, and our apartment didn’t have air conditioning, but still just two people sharing all that space…I thought I was in heaven. It wasn’t long though before the kids came to join us and privacy was again something you gave up bit by bit.

  Now I live alone. The quiet times can be good for a while. It gives you time to really think about things. Time to think about things can also be a curse when you don’t want to. In the mornings I go out and sit on the deck to drink my coffee. It is peaceful around here in the morning. Birds singing and an occasional dog barking in the distance are the only things that might keep it from being totally silent. In today’s modern world, total silence is not something that most of us tolerate for very long. We turn on the radio in the car, the TV in the house, the stereo headsets while we’re walking or jogging. Quite time is a foreign concept to most people these days. But not to me. When I’m driving alone in my car, I don’t turn on the radio. I prefer to let my mind wander and see where my thoughts might take me. I’m not bored with my self as my only company as most folks are. Many of you, through this blog or my works of fiction, have seen that my mind can be very fertile territory with enough going on there to keep me entertained. But here’s a few things that I’ve noticed that are different now that I live alone.

  First of all, I talk to my pets a lot these days. I didn’t before. My wife often talked to them using baby talk. I always thought that was amusing…like talking in baby talk would help them understand what she was saying better. I don’t baby talk, but I do talk to them from time to time. They don’t seem to mind. In fact their tails really start to wag when I do.  When I’m outside in the evenings watering all the plants, fruit trees, and my garden, I often talk to the plants now. I know…crazy right? They seem to not mind either. Today, I went out to eat lunch, and it was the first time I left the house all week. I didn’t have to guess where I would eat or argue about it. I just stopped at the first place that sounded good. I went to Wal-Mart afterwards, but I was only in there for about 10 minutes. Got what I needed and got the hell out. That's way different. I stay up as late as I want to these days and get up in the morning when I feel like it, or when the cats really get to meowing outside wanting to be fed and will not be ignored any longer. I don’t have a daily routine, other than the previously mentioned coffee ceremony first thing in the morning. I don’t have a Honey-Do list. I do the chores around here when I feel like it and when I don’t … I don’t. Just to be clear, this is not the way I like it. I loved the way my wife and I did things together. I liked going shopping with her and watching her "grazing" over everything available. Her enthusiasm for life was infectious. It infected me. Her way of doing things was different from my way. I liked her way. I miss her way. My way is boring and always has been. That's what I found so irresistible about her. She was never boring.  

  I've had many guys tell me lately that my present situation sounds pretty darn close to Nirvana. Most guys say they would love being left the hell alone. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. They’re lying. I don’t do alone very well. I always liked being married. And I liked having the kids around. Single guys are used to at least having a few of their good buddies around a good bit of the time and spend many of their nights in crowded places with lots of other single people around. I don’t have good buddies anywhere close to me. I’m too old for the night life.  So it’s just me here. Living alone, talking to the dogs, cats, gold fish, plants, and anyone else (you guys) that will listen and trying to make the best of it. The prospect of living this way for many years to come frightens me half to death. The prospect of not living this way and including someone else frightens me even more. So I will continue to live alone. And I will pray that the rest of you out there don’t have to.

Follow the Leader

  Leaders. Ever wonder why we have them? Or what does it take to make a leader? Are they different from the rest of us? Sometimes we idolize our leaders. Sometimes we revile them. Sometimes we write books about them. Sometimes we kill them like dogs in the street. But we always have one around. When one steps down - or is killed - there is always another ready to take his place. Do we just like having someone to blame when things go wrong? Can’t we find our own path without them? Are we so lazy that we would turn over all our own personal sovereignty to someone else in order to not have to make our own decisions? I remember reading in the Bible about the early Hebrews. They were a nation without a secular king. They looked around and saw that all the other nations had kings. So they clamored to God for a king so they could be like everybody else. God advised against it. He told them they were better off without a king. And if they had a king, they would open themselves up to all kinds of new problems. Abuse of power is one that comes to mind. A vainglorious king might be easily insulted and bring the whole nation to war over some perceived slight. An ambitious king might embark on generations of expansionism causing his people to suffer and die in great numbers in the process. A paranoid king might spy on his own people without their permission or knowledge. The Hebrews didn’t listen to God. So, God gave in and anointed them a king. And the nations of the Hebrews have been in turmoil ever since.

  In this country we go through a long process to elect our leaders. Supposedly it’s a democratic process where anyone can run and has the chance to win. It doesn’t really work that way. And every four years someone is “elected” to be our new leader. They say he or she is elected by the majority. But the majority of eligible people in this country don’t vote. So that means our leaders are elected by a small minority to lead us all for at least four years. More people vote for the next “American Idol” than they do for president sometimes. With today’s technology, why couldn’t we set up a system where everyone could vote instantaneously on every issue?  Need a new road built through your state? Everyone in the state votes electronically and bam…the people in that state let you know if they are willing to pay for the project. Then they vote on who gets to build it if the project passes. And they must decide how to pay for the project. Voila! A leaderless society that is truly democratic. But then who would we have to blame when the road didn’t get built correctly? Or who would we blame if it cost way more than the original estimate? Whose head would roll? We like to blame our leaders when things don’t go the way we think they should. But we rarely do anything about it. Sure we bitch and moan. We might even write nasty things about them in the newspapers. Or ridicule them on the late night talk shows. But we don’t usually go further than that. After all, leaders sometimes have the power (that we gave them, by the way) to make you have a very bad day if you bitch and moan too loudly.

  So who in their right mind would want to be a leader anyway? What does it take to step up and say, “Yes, I will show you the way.”  What rational human being would want to be the alpha male, the big dog, the head cheese, the decider? And why would they want to? Is it for the money? Most of them are rich already. The power? Most have power – hey they’re rich and powerful enough when they step out there – or at least you would think so. The Fame and Glory? Even knowing that if you don’t do what the public thinks you should, it might be your head rolling in the street. Is it worth the risk? And we’ve all seen the toll being the leader takes on most folks. Most of our presidents have gone into the job looking young and vigorous. Then they come out looking old and tired – if they manage to come out alive that is.

  So, raise your hand if you want to be the leader of the free world. Or even of the not so free world. I suspect not many hands went up. So what kind of person would really want to be a leader? Just stepping up there and saying, “I’ll do it,” makes me question, if not their sanity, at least their motives. And the fact that we have had leaders through most of our history and followed them even when we could clearly see the cliff up ahead makes me question our own sanity. Why couldn’t the Hebrews, and the rest of us, just listened to God in the first place? I suspect that if we had, history classes in school would be much more boring than they are already. So maybe that’s why we do it. Entertainment. After all, we all like to watch a fool dancing and prancing around up on a stage. They might be good for a few laughs. But is the show really worth the price of admission? I, for one, think not. 

Fly In The Ointment

  How’s that old saying go? The best laid plans of mice or men often go awry. My plans always go awry. That’s why I tend to not make plans. And in my life experience, there always seems to be a fly in the ointment. To start with – I hate flies! If there is such a thing as karma, I will probably come back as a fly. Or at least, I will get bugged a whole lot in the next life. I really do get a lot of pleasure out of smacking pesky flies with a fly swatter. It’s even better when I can get two at once. I can sit out on my deck and there won’t be a fly anywhere in sight. But bring one food item out there with you and they come like Hell’s Angels on wings. Those suckers either have the greatest sense of smell ever or one hell of a spy network. If the latter then, hey, there may be an opening for some of them at the NSA.

  Anyway, like I already mentioned, I don’t make plans. But I do have dreams and wish for certain things to happen in my life. No, I don’t dream about winning the lotto. No, I don’t dream about tropical vacations with suntanned voluptuous women. My dreams have always been simple ones. I dreamed of writing a book and getting it published. Did that. Twice. So far. The fly in that ointment is that I should have dreamed about them actually selling in a big way. But that’s ok. I can live with the not getting rich part. After all, I’ve been poor all my life and it pretty much seems natural to me nowadays.

  I always dreamed about having a quiet peaceful place to live in that I enjoyed and could be proud of. It didn’t have to be Buckingham Palace, or Graceland, or even a big two story home with lots of bedrooms and all the trimmings. I’ve lived in a lot of different places. Some of them better than others. Some of them were cozy. Some of them even felt like home – at least for a while. But the most peaceful, quiet, and beautiful place I’ve ever lived is where I’m at now. And it’s not much – not even close to being a mansion. It’s a modest three bedroom mobile home with a big covered deck in front, wooded, with a couple of friendly neighbors, in a quiet resort community. Pleasures here are simple and uncomplicated. But there’s a fly in that ointment too. This was my wife’s place. And before that, it was her mother and father’s place. It will be our children’s place. This was the place where she and I were to enjoy our golden years together. What did George Straight suggest? “There’s a difference between living and living well. You can’t have it all, all by yourself.”  Well, I live here now. But I’m not living well. Buzz, buzz. I hate flies.

  The best laid plans of our Forefathers were put forward in our Constitution. What a marvelous thing they hammered out and had the foresight to put down in straight-forward words that no one would have any trouble following and understanding. The fly in that ointment is that they allowed lawyers to get a hold of it and “interpret” it. Such a simple plan whose guidelines would make a great country even greater started going awry almost from the get go. And we ended up with a government we can’t trust and that doesn’t trust us. We ended up with a government that takes every penny it can get away with from us and then spends it lavishly on frivolous things, or unnecessary wars, and who knows what else for its own benefit and not ours. In fact, I would say that Washington, DC is looking more and more like a big pile of manure covered with flies.

  I often hear people saying that someone needs to invent a better mouse trap. Mice can be tricky and clever, no doubt. But a good cat is God’s answer to that problem. Just maybe, a little more effort ought to go into inventing a bigger and better fly swatter instead. Lord knows, I could sure use one in my life. Let’s just pray that someone comes up with such an invention before the whole country’s plans and dreams go awry. Buzz, buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. 

Making Friends

  Making friends hasn’t always been an easy thing for me. Like I’ve mentioned before, I was a very shy kid growing up. I didn’t have many friends in school. I had one friend from the neighborhood where I grew up. And then I got to be friends with a friend of his in high school. But that was about it for me. Oh, occasionally other people would drift in and out of our little group. But none of them really knew me or even took the time to try to get to know me. That was ok. I didn’t need a lot of friends. I was pretty much a loner and always had been. Crowds made me uncomfortable. After high school, I joined the army. I had a couple of good friends in the service, but you make friends there knowing that you will, or they will, be moving on eventually. When I got married, my wife became my best friend and that was all I needed for a long time. My two friends from school didn’t live close by anymore, so I eventually made a new friend from the people I knew at work. We became very good friends and fishing buddies. But that didn’t end well. When my marriage ended, so did all the friendships I had. It’s not such a good feeling to be making your way in the world with no one you can call a friend. No one you can talk to when times are rough. Oh during this time I had what I call alcohol buddies. Our relationships only went as far as Ladies’ Night at the local clubs. We got drunk together and chased women. Not a part of my life that I’m very proud of. For a long time, I wasn’t willing to really let anyone in to get to know me well enough to call me friend. I had serious trust issues. I didn’t trust anyone anymore. It’s hard to make friends when you have that going on. Then one day, while I was still living in Tennessee, I opened up my mind and heart and let God in. I had a new friend. One I knew I could trust. I stopped fearing death, and I started opening up more to the people around me. After all the issues I had with trust seemed almost petty now. No one could ever really hurt me like I had been hurt before. I now considered the hurts of this life mere growing pains or learning experiences. I eventually made a few new friends, mostly at work. Then I met Becky, and she became my new best friend.  Unfortunately, as most of you know, that only lasted five years. Then in spite of all the odds, I got my best friend forever (bff) back again. Sadly that too was only for a short period of time.

  People come and go in your life. That’s just the way it is. Good friends tend to stay around a little longer. I like to sit out on my deck and watch the birds. I have several feeders, and I’ve noticed something about birds. Many of them come around daily when the feeders are full. And if I let them get empty, they still keep coming for a while. But eventually not so many will show up anymore. Friendship is like that. You have to feed your friendships regularly, or they will eventually not show up when you need them. Of course I don’t mean that literally. But keeping friends around does take a little effort on your part. In other words, to have a friend you have to be a friend. These days my friends are mostly family members. Family members can be friends too. Sometimes they are the best friends you will ever have.

  Now there is one other source of friendship that is becoming more and more common these days. Some of these friends you will never meet face to face. But more and more we are interacting with people online from all over the world. People that don’t get on the internet laugh and say, “Well, those people could never be true friends. You can’t really get to know them online.” I beg to differ. I have made some very good friends online. And yes some of them live too far away for it to be possible for us to ever meet in person. But with today’s technology, that doesn’t necessarily limit the friendship. I talk and interact with some of them on a daily basis; much more so than I do with friends closer to home. Some of my facebook and online friends have been a real comfort to me in my times of sorrow. I can foresee a time when most of my friends might be online friends. And I’m ok with that. Friends are friends no matter where you meet them or meet up with them. At this point in my life, I need all the friends I can get and will not let a little thing like distance get in the way of a good friendship. So if you have good friends in your life, consider yourself a wealthy person. And cherish them. Some of them are only here for a short time. Love them while you have the chance.

Losing Someone You Love

(The Story of Me and Linda)

 Losing someone you love is never easy. And it’s one of the things that don’t get easier with practice. Eight years ago, I lost someone I loved dearly. That loss was not unexpected. I entered the relationship already knowing that she had health problems that would take her from me someday. We resolved to live one day at a time and quit dreading that fateful day. We lived. We loved. We truly enjoyed the five years we were blessed with. And then she was gone. I miss her still. I grieved even though I knew she was now in a better place, and her suffering was finally over.

  Then a miraculous thing happened. I started dating my ex-wife whom I had been divorced from for 26 years. When I started dating her, I told everyone at work that the bad news was - she had two kids. The good news was – they were mine! Linda Babineaux was a changed woman from Linda Landry. But I loved them both. We quickly fell back into love, and I proposed to her on Christmas Eve just like the first time. We were married for the second time on May 1^st 2007. My biggest regret in life will always be that we didn’t get to spend more time together.

  Linda and I met the first time “making the drag” on a Sunday afternoon. My best friend and I were sitting at Burger King in his car and Linda and her best friend drove up in Linda’s Volkswagon Bug. They invited us to go for a ride down the drag. I remember thinking that both girls were hot. But we only made one loop around the drag, and then they dropped us off at Burger King. Linda always said that she told her friend as soon as she saw me that I was the one…the one she would marry and be the father of her children. Why she would pick me was always amazing to me. I was somewhat of a geeky, shy, pimply-faced kid. So why me? She was drop-dead gorgeous in my book. The next Sunday my friend and I were returning from a day at the beach surfing when he suggested we make one run down the drag. I argued against it because I was hoping we would spot a certain Volkswagon Bug again, and I wanted to look my best. Not be all covered in sand with wind-blown hair. We did spot them and went for a quick spin around the drag together. Then my friend and I went home and cleaned up and returned to Gulfway drive. My friend was looking for anyone but Linda and her friend. He didn’t particularly like them much…especially Linda’s friend. But I was only looking for Volkswagons. We found them again and invited them to ride with us. Both Linda and her friend got in the back seat with me. I had changed into some corduroy pants and my best shirt for the occasion. Linda’s friend said, “Look, he’s wearing grovies!” They both were rubbing my legs feeling the grovies. I was getting extremely uncomfortable, and I noticed Linda giving her friend the evil eye. They asked us if we went to the beach a lot, and we told them that we went just about every Sunday to surf. They said we should take them with us next time. Then we dropped them off at Linda’s car. I was excited. I told my friend that we should call them and take them on a date to the beach. He said no way he was taking Linda’s friend anywhere. He didn’t like her. I said it was not a problem. I would take her, and he could take Linda. He still didn’t like the idea, but I was able to convince him to make the call. I was too shy to make it myself. He called them on Monday night. The next day at school, he told me that he called but that Linda wanted to be my date. So he said the deal was off. He wasn’t about to take her friend. I didn’t really have a preference at this point. I was excited to go out with either of them. So I begged and called in favors until he finally agreed.

  Our first date at the beach found me and my friend out on our surfboards while Linda and her friend walked along the beach. Soon they were being followed by several guys who were obviously flirting with them. I said the heck with that and abandoned my board. I spent the rest of the morning with the girls while my friend stubbornly stayed out in the water. For lunch Linda had packed a big picnic basket. But it was so windy that we had to eat in the car. I had to go make my friend come in and eat with us. Linda and I sat in the back seat sharing our food. I ate quietly. I was shy after all. Linda made a couple of attempts at conversation, but wasn’t having much luck. Finally she started peeling a banana and, when I looked at her, she smashed it in my face. I calmly wiped it off and asked her why she did that. She said, “Is that it? That’s all you have to say?” At this point, I wasn’t sure what to think about this girl. She was beautiful, and she definitely seemed interested in me. But I didn’t know what to think about her. She was a little intense and intimidating to say the least. The rest of the afternoon, I spent in the company of both girls while my friend surfed. Linda and her friend collected those tiny little clams and put them in a Dixie cup. They put the cup full of clams behind the back seat and forgot about them. When we left the beach, I was driving with Linda in the front and our friends in the back. Everyone was quiet. Then Linda began screaming to stop the car and trying to open the door. I thought she had gotten car sick, so I slammed on the brakes. She was out of the car almost before I had come to a complete stop. Then she went tearing across a field like a mad woman picking wildflowers. When I slammed on the brakes the cup of clams went flying and landed on Linda’s friend. Most of them went down her bikini top. She screamed and told my friend to get them out. She pulled her top away with both hands and said, “Get them out!” My friend said, “But, uh…” Then she said, “I don’t care. Just get them out!” I didn’t see what happened next. I was busy watching a crazy flower girl run across a field. And I knew at that moment that I loved her and that she would be mine forever.

  Our two best friends got married before we did and are still married to this day. They were the Best Man and Maid of Honor at mine and Linda’s first wedding. I was happy being married. And our two wonderful children gave me so much pride and joy that I sometimes wondered what I had done to deserve so much happiness. After twelve years, it all came crashing down. Without the love of my life, I was totally lost. I drank and entered one doomed relationship after another. I became very self-destructive. I wandered through the next twenty years with this big empty hole deep in my soul. I kept it hid from everyone, but even during this time I still loved Linda. I was still extremely attracted to her every time I saw her. Sometimes I hated myself for that. But it was something I could never shake.

  Linda and I got married the second time in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. She was every bit as beautiful then as she was the first time. The hole in my soul was finally gone, and our beautiful family was again united as it was meant to be. Linda was taken from us only a few days after our sixth anniversary and the day after Mother’s Day. We will always miss her. My soul will never be whole again as long as I live. 

    How can I describe a woman that was such an important part of my life? How can anyone understand what she has meant to me?  She was beautiful. She was funny. She made life fun. She was totally unpredictable. Sometimes she was crazy as hell. But I’ve always liked that about her. She pushed me to my limits. She brought me out of my shell. She taught me to love with all my heart and soul. I will always be grateful for that. And I will miss her until the day I die.

  Losing not one, but two women that I loved so dearly is not something that will be easy to bear. There is not enough time in the world to heal these wounds. After such as this, how do you go on with your day to day life? Like a blind man in a room with no walls, I will stumble through what’s left of my life. But I will cherish them. I will miss them. I will be grateful for what they taught me. I will rejoice in my children and grandchildren. But my soul will always yearn for the one that made it whole. I will yearn for the time when Linda and I can be rejoined and be as one again. For that is how it was meant to be.

Dusting off old Memories

                                 

                                             Rob's Poetry Page

It's sometimes difficult to be creative considering my circumstances. Life can be just too hard and so unfair. One thing being in the Army taught me was that no matter what, you push on. When you think you can't lift your leg and put one foot in front of another somehow you do. And you keep going. It's a lesson that has gotten me this far in life. And I will push on. But where the flesh is capable, sometimes the mind doesn't want to follow. My mind lately is in a fog giving my old nemesis, Despair, every opportunity to raise his ugly head. So, what might pour out of my besieged imaginings and spill onto this page may not be fit for all to read. So, for now, I may just hearken back to the days when creativity in me took the form of poetry. And feeble as my verse might be, I will share some of that with you instead. After all, it mostly has never seen the light of day. So what better time and place to air some of it out? So this is just me filling up space and dusting off old memories. I hope you don't hold it against me.

This first one is an old one written when my mind was questioning everything about the universe. I did a lot of meditating back then and turned my mind loose to explore. This was just my attempt to explain my frustration with not finding the answers.

             Of This Time
Of this time here in this place.
Of this world amid this space.
Of this system in the universe
Maybe not the better; maybe the worse.
My mind stretching past the limits of me
My thoughts bouncing off the walls of eternity
Only to echo softly about the great within,
Back and forth, across, out, and up again.
Through the depths my lone shadow cast
Witnessing shimmerings of the past.
Dice being thrown are never revoked,
The future, always hidden, heavily cloaked.
The essence of my being is of the now
But, hopefully, enduring forever somehow.
I can't explain the things that are
Though my mind followed truth from star to star.
The answers eluded me out in the void;
Every trick I used it too employed.
Leaving me here so cold and alone,
Like a lonely planet with its life force gone.

This next one was written on a Monday...go figure. My job back then was boring and mindless. This is an example of crazy thoughts that go through your head sometimes but never get out there.

             Monday Drab
Rainy day. Monday.
Now, like all the rest,
I can't find the will to go out
And do what I know I must;
Plod along like some mindless
Soldier - right, left, right, left,
Keep in step, sing in tune,
Can't afford to drive my car
In the middle of June.
Gas supply is short these days.
But so is life, my patience, my temper.
Bear-like prowling in the back of my mind
An idea is restless and wants to get out
And spring full blown into the light
With outrage and passion pouncing
On the first hapless person passing by.
Shaking them and screaming in their face
Be brave, be true, be different!
But, alas, I plod like all the rest
My face like theirs turning plastic
And Monday drab.

This one is obvious but written a long time ago...

                         Resurrection
When the night comes creeping in my ears,
I feel your cries and see your tears.
Death I know stands at your side
The pain in me, I cannot hide.
You were the sunshine of my days
Now I stumble through the haze.
My mind a prisoner in my head
Does battle with ravenous dread.
I cannot escape the things I know
They tear me asunder but never show.
With your touch you made me live
Leaving me now - nothing left to give.
My hands stretch in a heavenly direction
Begging God for your resurrection.


This one was written one day in school when I was thinking back on my days in the Republic of Panama. I was working full time and going to college full time. My family was stressed, to say the least. I think I already knew back then that the bad days would come.

            Mornings in Panama

Peddlers sing from behind their pushcarts

Of fresh fish and cheap avocados

To women with baskets tied to ropes

Lowered down from lofty balconies,

Hung with the clean morning wash,

To the ancient cobblestones below.

Cooking smells waft on the breeze,

Mingled with the stench of dirty streets,

Rising with the heat from a tropical sun.

Humidity, like an anaconda, attacks

Trying to squeeze out every breath.

You just laid there naked and sweating,

Unsatisfied, wanting all that I had to give.

And I, lying beside you, sweating and thinking

That nothing in the world is ever complete.

Lying beside you watching your silent tears,

And not understanding at all what they meant.

I remember always hearing a woman, 

Shouting from a downstairs balcony,

Unsatisfied, Haggling with the fishmonger.

Her voice echoing between the buildings

Forever, like the sound of broken promises.

During one of my low points (there have been many), I was feeling particularly broken. Looking back, I was trying to put my finger on where it all went wrong. Yeah, what I saw wasn't pretty.

Broken Man

Just where did my life go
When my love slipped away?
How did a young man
Finally, end up this way?
Always looking back
To see what wasn’t there.
What was my biggest lack
That led to such despair?
Perhaps did I walk
When I should have ran,
Back when I was just
A naïve young man?
Surely I certainly must
Have done things wrong
Whenever I was just
Living according to plan.
Where did my love go
That made me who I am.
Maybe she would know
How to fix a broken man.

But...
Memory of her voice fades
My mind’s visage blurred.
Loss that hurts and degrades
Whispers no longer heard.
Even hope of fixing
Such a broken man
Is quickly mixing
With the hourglass’
Rapidly dwindling sand.
Each moment that passes
Threatens to be the last
In the long sad story
Of a very broken man.

This next one was written on New Year's Eve. I was feeling old and closer to the end of my life than the beginning. Looking back on all my cherished memories, it was like seeing a succession of black and white photos that only loosely defined my whole life.

The New Year
The future too quickly becomes the past,
Days march relentlessly towards the last.
Our lives bleeding out tiny drop by drop,
Dawning awareness can’t make it stop.
With the New Year, you can’t help but see
That, for us, forever was not meant to be.
Time doled out in the smallest measure
Like pirate’s gold a squandered treasure.
The best of it wasted on foolish things,
Youth prodded forward by its stings.
Oblivious of the glass and flowing sand,
Too late we all try to make our stand.
Hopelessly fighting with our last breath,
Vainly struggling against inevitable death.
No wonder autumn prays for hereafters,
Lifting trembling voices to the rafters.
Wiser on this first day of the New Year,
To face inevitable with no hint of fear.
And behold each moment that remains
Like cherished photos in golden frames.

This next one was written while listening to 50s and 60s music on the radio feeling nostalgic and longing for a dance partner who would not give up on me or die on me.

Dance With Me

Dancing on a banana peel at the edge of the world

While life keeps spinning past like a candy cane swirl.

Dance with me, dance with me, until the end of time.

Hold my hand like you mean it; say you’ll be mine.

With your head on my shoulder in a tender embrace,

Dance with me the next step to a whole different place

Where all love is eternal knowing nothing of ends.

And impassioned lovers are more than just friends.

Dance with me, dance with me, and hold on tight

Two steps then three spinning until we see the light

Of a new dawning day simple as it was meant to be

Oh, won’t you please have this little dance with me?

So that when the music stops two lovers now one,

Smile and bow together towards the new rising sun.

Dance with me, dance with me, help set my soul free,

That we might dance together throughout all eternity.

I know that some of my poetry is rather dark and depressing these days. I apologize for that. But with so very little light shining in your soul, it is hard to create anything else. Anything sweet and uplifting just rings hollow to my ear these days and get's thrown in the trash. Maybe someday that will change, and I will be able to share it with you here. That is my prayer. But for now...this is what comes out. This next one is a sonnet...when was the last time you saw one of those?

When Lonely and Afraid (A Pair of Sonnets)

When lonely, afraid, and miserably down

 So very hard to make the end of the day.

 Going about with only a hint of a frown,

 False cheer in my words; the usual way

To disguise the cruelty of such a fate.

 Motivation? Yes, it’s somewhere about.

 But it’s making itself scarce of late.

 And all I want to do is cry and shout

 Against such a preposterous enterprise

Of Life bereft of any purposeful goals.

Sadness stares from red-rimmed eyes

Caused by raw hurt of separated souls.

Wilted flowers in a vase focus the room

A stark photo with no need for a zoom.

                         

                          But

God in his wisdom teaches with signs.

Even the darkest and loneliest night

Won’t forever torment sleepless minds

For it always gives way to the light.

Morning glories open hopefully and full

Of sweet nectar and aromatic perfume

Dissipating dreams, leaving me to mull

Over thoughts that linger in a silent room

Like ghosts who came but didn’t stay,

Leaving me to wonder why I should

Go on feeling confused and lost this way.

When it’s better by far, if only I could,

Embrace the golden light and feel the love

That God and she pour daily from above.

This one mostly came in my head while a new girlfriend and I were sitting on my sofa watching a movie together. I was debating with myself as to whether or not I should give love one more chance. And decided the debate was a little too late because I had already fallen. Have no fear, it didn't last long and it was my last.

               Do We Dare?

The ceiling fan is turning slowly about

You can see the space between the blades.

My life’s undramatic moments play out

Behind the drawn and darkened shades.

The clock ticking louder than it should be

Suddenly almost seems to freeze

When memories are here with me.

Then like a sudden summer breeze

That unexpectedly rustles past

Wafting pleasantly through the air

Quickly gone as it came - way too fast

Without even a hint of remorse or care.

Leaves me faced with the same possibility.

And those questions just hanging there.

Unasked but paramount for you and me.

Could we? Should we? Do we dare?

Staring deeply into lonely blue eyes,

I forget too soon about tempting fate

Therein, I realize the problem lies.

I think it may already be too late.

As I hear the clock’s next sounds

This time even louder than before.

Love’s already on the grounds

And won’t be denied the door.

Ok...this next one is a song or a hymn actually. Poetic in a way I guess but meant to be sung. Hope you poetry fans don't mind me including it here.

Secrets Across Your Heart

In the still of a quiet night,              

When the sky is starry dark              

And the moon is shining bright,       

A soft song like a distant lark,         

Writes secrets across your heart.     

Can you see it, can you hear          

What is meant to be your part?          

Does your mind feel it near             

The spirit that’s everywhere?          

Do you dare turn away your face        

From the glory imparted there                        

Denying Him who left His trace       

Leaving you a clear cut choice.          

Or will you sing it like a psalm       

At the top of your sweet voice        

Breaking the stillness and calm       

Will you sing and sing it loudly      

The words that you were shown?      

Will you sing and sing it proudly     

So that His glory might be known   

As it was written upon your heart?    

Will you sing and sing it loudly

What was meant to be your part?     

Will you sing and sing it proudly    

Secret words that you were shown

So that His glory might be known?

Will you sing and sing it proudly

At the top of your sweet voice?

Is there really, ever really,

any other choice?    

This next one should be obvious for us Christians.

      Reborn
In my heart of hearts,
I feel you moving there
Changing all my parts
With gentle loving care
Making me out to be
The man you had in mind
Giving me ears to hear;
Opening eyes that were blind
Erasing every doubt and fear.
My future now has changed;
Exciting for me to behold
What works you have arranged.
A new life destined to unfold
According to your divine plan.
For the eternal and everlasting
Grace shed on a humble man,
Your praise I will forever sing
My Lord and new found King.
I love you Lord, and that is why
Patient, I remain for the day
When I see you above the sky
Come at last to pluck me away.

Ok, I admit it. Often my dreams aren't pretty. But in my defense I have sat and held the hands of two different women I loved with all my heart and soul, pass on into the next life. Undealt with emotions tend to be stuffed down deep inside and forgotten during the day only to come bubbling up in your dreams.

Night Terrors

Quiet time alone.

Alone time, noisy mind.

Past and future battle

For attention with present,

Kickstart emotions, deadened

On purpose, shoved down deep.

But they bubble to the surface

Unholy and alive, alive

And fighting to be heard

Or dealt with once and for all.

Not now, never, now, not again.

Walls, brick walls, thrown up fast.

How were they breached?

By a word, a stray thought,

An emotion set free by association,

A haunting song on the radio that

Caused the mortar of determination

To leach away slipping through

The breach, mind grenade exploding

A memory better left for dead.

You.  I can’t handle you

You there, not here, forever.

How? There is no how, just why.

The why unknown, unknowable.

Push and hammer to re-submerge

The bits and pieces down deep.

But memory fights back.

Love lost, love, forever love,

Strangles, holds captive

Merciless, but forgiving.

Promising peace, forever peace

And blessed sleep at last

An eternal cold dark sleep;

The only cure will come

As promised soon enough.

Meanwhile, whisperings

And tears on my pillow like

Stains from a bleeding heart

Are crimson reminders

In the brightly lit morning

Of mind terrors in the night.

Another battle waged, lost,

With nothing really gained.

No deep understanding.

Only lost forever love

And empty forever pain,

Hidden temporarily again

By the unwanted dawning

Of yet another lonesome day.

  
I know, I know...this theme is getting old. But what can I say? It's the only one that seems to inspire me lately. I've tried to write sweet and light but it always comes out sounding hollow to my ears and they get tossed.

          My Love’s Embrace
Time swirls and eddies in my mind
Jumbling fears in a frightening storm
The fabric of reality begins to unwind.
But a hallowed image begins to reform
Pulling me out of my cold sweat alarm
To a place where I feel safe and warm
Like broken glass in a bright mosaic
A sharp command; each piece obeys it.
The assembled picture a familiar face.
Tugs at me, enfolds me in an embrace.
All time stands still in a frozen moment
With me where I belong in your arms.
My personal angel, you are heaven-sent.
Fear vanquished by your many charms.
But all time and storms must move on,
The dark clouds fade leaving me alone.
Sad happy tears rolling down my face,
My soul filled by love's ghostly embrace.


This one I wrote 04/23/2017 while at work sitting in a van doing nothing but being bored. It's not one of my better ones, but I decided to stick it here anyway just to save it. And the debate goes on.

  To Love Again
How far would I go?
Would I run willy-nilly,
Or should I take it slow?
Would I act all silly,
Or be her steady friend?
Just how far should I go
If I want to feel it again?
Would I look into her eyes,
Searching to find her heart,
Comfort her when she cries
And swear never to part?
Or should I never again say
The words I long to hear?
"I love you in every way."
Could I say it without fear?
Or best to have loved and lost
Than to risk the awful pain
And not to count the cost
Of more love spent in vain?
A long history of pains
Defeats before I even start
Unable to let go the reins
And set free my lonely heart.
Desire to love once more
Is killing me slowly inside.
My love's ends from before
Say my heart, too, has died.
Yet I want to feel it all again;
Resuscitate to bring new life
To a loveless heart's domain.
Casting out fears and strife, 
I know is what's called for.
But just how far would I go,
And dare I hope once more?
And should I even wish to be?
Risking it all to make it so?
Is it even still possible for me?
Heart aside, my mind says no.

Yeah, well, this next one needs no explanation. Sometimes my nemesis, Despair, gets the better of me.

            Winter of Despair

Sadness like raindrops dripping

Off of plastic flowers in a cemetery

Seeps into the ground of despair

Drenching every inch of my soul.

Feeling sluggish and unaware

I slither through time like an

Unambitious snake starving for

Encouragement but denied it.

And I remain resigned to my fate

Curled in a corner hissing warnings

At anyone who might come near

Stay away, you must stand clear.

No matter your good intentions;

The cold reptilian heart that beats

Slowly within a constricted breast

While eyes grow gray and dim,

Welcoming the lonely darkness

Like a tattered and worn blanket

On a cold, endless, winter night.
Embracing a miserable lonely fate
Wishing I could just hibernate
With no hope of a warming sun.



This next one came to me while I was at work, sitting in a van watching it rain. It took me about 5 minutes to write this one. And just for the record, these things plus the love of God did work for me.

Letting Go
Letting go of the pain,

Coming in out of the rain;
The journey begins
With an inch, not a mile,
With hope and friends,
You relearn to smile.
Reclaim your life
And your stolen past.
That's how it begins,
You must make it last.
Find your way into light,
Cast out night and dark,
Even with all your might
Unchain your broken heart.
Learn to love again -
The only way to come
Back out of the rain,
For all, not just some.
It is the only way to be free.
Now if it will only work for me.

I wrote this next one at work today (06/18/2017) when I was submerged in a reverie of a love I lost a long time ago. You know...on of those "what could have been" moments that us old folks fall into from time to time. I jotted down just a few squiggles on the back of one of our sign out sheets that turned into this when I got home....It's rough and needs work...but at least it will be here when/if I ever get in the mood to tackle it and polish it up a bit. This particular fish had a name, and her name was Nelwyn.

The One That Got Away
Love like a slippery fish

That you’ve grasped with both hands

Lays there a moment gasping for air,

Sparkling in the bright sunlight,

Looking at you with knowing eyes

As you take in the sheer beauty of it.

And for one quick moment,

As your eyes meet, you fall

Into an eternity of fiery passion

Feeling both primal and complete

In a timeless space between one

Heartbeat and the thud of the next.

When suddenly it wriggles and escapes

Through your reluctant fingers

That hesitated for only a moment

To pull the trigger of commitment,

And it dives back into the depths,

Disappearing before you can even blink.

Your soul cries out betrayed and alone,

Knowing you only had one chance.

But now you’ve missed destiny

And missed out on perfect bliss

With only yourself to blame,

Leaving you forever longing

For the one that got away.

                    Getting There

Sometimes it seems a roller coaster ride

Is what my life has always been

But looking back from the far side

A roller coaster wasn’t quite the thing.

An old jalopy was more the mode

As I careened between the ditches

Bouncing around from the potholes

Steering only by knee-jerk twitches

I somehow achieved all my goals.

I loved deeply, and I still do.

My two children made me proud,

And I wrote the books that I knew

Would be quiet births; not so loud,

But would say all that I had to say.

And as the sunlight begins to dim,

I look back on a ride that was so rough,

Yet, amazed I don’t regret a single thing

It was what it was – It was enough.

Left now is just for the fat lady to sing.

I am comfortable in my destination;

Getting there was always half the fun.

Happy with my mode of transportation,
I hold on tight for the road I still must run.
Heads up, hold on, look out, here I come,
Despite the bumps, I'm on my way home.

This poem was written with my Mom in mind as she dwindled in her final year. It made me so very sad to see her that way. And so very afraid of a similar fate for me.

          Dementia

In the towering darkness

A fled that won’t be flown

A dread that won’t regress

And a gone that won’t come home

In the brilliant sunlight

A shine that can’t erase

A battle too weary to fight

And a walk too tired to chase

After a dream in the moonlight

A whisper from who you are

A prayer sent up at night

And a single step that went too far.

In the simple part of day,

A pleading not to go,

A sorry that went away

And a known that doesn’t know.

From January to December too

I will always remember you.

I will always remember you.

Oh well, this next one was a feeble attempt at writing something not quite so depressing. 

           Dance of Love
Dance with me a sweet love song
Sway to the music and sing along.
Move your feet with the beat
Whisper something soft and sweet
I wanna know who you really are
You know I’ve admired you from afar
Like a magnet, you drew me near
My trembling heart is filled with fear
You’ll say it’s funny the way he dances
Or make light of my circumstances
Can you feel my heart pounding?
Yes, I know how this is sounding
You must think such fear absurd
But I must beg for the last word
The presence of beauty so profound
Causes confidence to abscond.
But if you allow this man a chance
In the space of a single dance
To show you who I can be
Open your heart to the possibility
Of a future so filled with love
Expanding out to the stars above
Dance with me a sweet love song
Hold me close before the moment's gone.


Keepsake was written when I was just bored. Being retired is awesome, but also can get tedious at times. This is what happens when that happens.

                      Keepsake

I have too much time on my hands

Time is one of those fickle things

That no one really understands

Past is heavy with memories it brings

And we know tomorrow never comes

They always say all we have is now

Carpe diem we celebrate in songs

But we don’t get around to it somehow

My body goes through motion all day,

But my mind never quite catches up,

Lost in the bygone and far, far, away.

Like the dregs in the bottom of my cup

Images more real than the caffeine

Swirling its way through my veins

Reminding me of the beauty I’ve seen

Like when we splashed in summer rains

Two kids laughing without any care

The sound of it echoes in my mind

Catching me up when I’m unaware

Like an old spider’s web left behind

In the corner of a fallen down shed

Shocking me back to the here and now

Memories of you fluttering in my head

Butterfly moments important somehow

More than today's, and all my tomorrows

Locked up in a keepsake box of sorrows

This next one is a common theme for me. Like many people, I struggle during the holidays with depression. I don't know why. But it's kinda like when you're playing video games - the longer you play the more and better weapons you have to fight the battle with. I have two angels in heaven now on my side. And I have a pretty good relationship with the Big Guy up there. So, it's easier now to fight the dark forces with them at my side. Hope you like this one. This one is me missing Becky during the holidays.

Holiday Battle

This same time every year                                          

I struggle with the darkness                                        

Pulling me down by the foot                                       

Into that pitch-black abyss                                           

Darker than chimney soot                                           

Leaving me trembling in fear                                      

When only one look of your blue eyes                     

Could rapture me into clear blue skies                     

But you’re no longer here                                          

To rescue me from that place                                   

No more magic saving smile                                      

Shining from your angelic face                                  

For it’s been gone too long a while                           

And now my memory slowly dies                            

Forgetful of love in those blue eyes                         

Inescapable pull on a broken heart                         

Nearly rips me from a lonely world                         

Into the nether regions of the dark                          

When He causes memory to unfurl                         

A flag of love like a glowing spark                             

Causing despair, my enemy, to depart                  

What I see there waving on a breeze I inhale       

Like a breath of wine poured from the holy grail.  

Rescued at last so now I know                                     

I have survived another year at least                    

With love renewed and faith restored                 

My heart feels ready for the feast                        

And my mind begs not to be ignored                   

Ready now to bask in the  heavenly glow                              

Of His presence and to join Him at His Holy table

With my blue-eyed love wrapped in white sable.


And this one is in remembrance of mine and Linda's first date, marriage, breakup, and then remarriage 27 years later.

           My Love’s Kisses

Kisses. Soft kisses I remember

Under the mistletoe in December.

Sparks, chemistry, fireworks galore,

Breathless, you left me wanting more.

Our first kiss, I leaned against the bell

My head swirled, and I knew I fell

So hard in love with the love of my life;

I already knew you would be my wife.

We giggled - your mom flashed the lights.

Promises of future passionate nights,

Whispering your hot desires in my ear,

Left me trembling with schoolboy fear.

When I got in my car and looked back,

I saw day after day in a perfect stack -

Each one a snowflake, perfect and unique.

I was slain - mesmerized by your mystique.

A moth to a flame, sometimes it burned

But no matter what, I always yearned

For passionate kisses at the end of night.

Even during the Bad, your kisses felt right.

For a time I missed those lips against mine

But then they were back, and all was fine

At least until that last kiss upon your brow

Echoed down through eternity somehow

Like an old church bell across the glade   

Muffled music was the sound it made

Lonely and pure through all the ages

Like tear after tear falling on pages

Now I entreat God with my wishes

To be in your arms to feel those kisses.

Patience my son, for all your days

Are few enough, for you too she prays.

When I do finally summon you home

She will be there waiting but not alone

There are many others who went before

They too await you at heaven’s door.

Oh, Lord, see me safely to that day

For this and nothing else will I pray.

The Dove was written immediately after I got the news of my sister's death. With tears in my eyes, I looked out my bedroom window and saw this dove sitting in the tree. He was making cooing noises like he was trying to comfort me, and this poem sprang full-blown into my head.
                    The Dove
One dove sitting in my backyard tree.
My, I said, I wish I could see what you see.
But alas, said I, if only I knew how to fly.
Come said the dove, it’s not hard if you try.
The world is waiting, and the sky is free.
Leap into the air and fly away with me.
So, we two leaped into the air together
Into the bluest sky and nicest weather,
Soaring over the world without a care,
I looked and joyed at what I saw down there.
It’s all so beautiful, I shouted into the wind,
But the dove cried, look, please look again.
I opened my eyes and looked closer this time;
Everything was chaotic and all out of rhyme.
People were hurting and crying out loud,
With angry faces, they came in a crowd,
Fists in the air, shouting each other down.
I’d overlooked it when I was on the ground,
But from the sky above, it was oh so clear.
There was too much pain and too much fear
In the world for my heart to even bear –
Too much hate – too much, “I don’t care!”
It sent me in a tailspin back to the world,
And I asked the dove, why it unfurled
This way since the beginning of time?
And she said because they lost the rhyme
And the harmony God sent from above,
And they just no longer believe in love.
Then must we all die to make it right?
No, said she, leave the dark for the light.
He gave you love – love conquers hate.
Fill your heart - fly with me to heaven’s gate.
Love and joy overfilled me that day.
As I watched my lonesome dove fly away.
With so much beauty and so much grace.
Happy in her goal to reach God’s embrace.


              Derailed Man
Nothing worked out the way I planned
Like a lost train, I’m a derailed man
Not sure at all which way I should go
Moving so damn fast or way too slow
My feet got tangled up in chains
Drop by drop all my blood drains
Until I’m a dusty husk the sun will dry
While all the pretty girls walk on by
I have more stripes across my soul
Than a red and white barber pole
Heart cracked like a broken mirror
I didn’t feel it when she came nearer.
But I saw her go and shake her head
Leaving me behind as already dead.
Why it went this way I don’t know
I never spent time mapping it so
Somehow the pieces fell together
A blade honed by a piece of leather
Cutting out around the edges
My strange history up it dredges
So, I ignore it just staring at the sky
While all the pretty girls walk on by
A rollercoaster ride in a lonely park
Are life’s peaks and valleys in the dark
But no longer will I ask myself why
All the pretty girls just walk on by.
Because I’ve had enough you see
Of this unmitigated catastrophe.
I’m calling an end to this lost game.
Start a new one with a new name
The pretty girl said as she walked by
What I must agree can it hurt to try
When the sound of a heart that shatters
Is heard by no one that matters
Because when it does, they are gone
And you’re left standing there alone
The pretty girls just keep walking by
Laughing at the silly tears you cry
So, name me Adam a brand-new man
Embarking today on a brand-new plan.

             Love is a Tragedy

Love? It is a tragedy of emotions;     

Wonderful and true in the light         

Expressed in whispering devotions    

And trembling fingers of delight.       

But it is often selfishly applied.          

An end to a purposeful means,         

Twisted vines that do not abide.       

Its only fruit is broken dreams           

And mangled hearts in the dust,        

Leaving a lost and wretched soul      

Forever bereft of any kind of trust,   

Shattered pieces no longer whole     

Love? It left me crying on the floor   

Crumpled up like the discarded ball  

Of paper I found lying by the door.   

Forget me, forever, and never call.     

It’s hard to forget that painful day    

But you with the kindest blue eyes   

Shooed that joyless demon away.     

No longer am I tortured by her lies   

For you revitalized and made grow   

The vine of love repairing my heart  

From its broken pieces in the glow   

Of your love that is off the chart.      

And I hear me saying forevermore    

Words I meant to never say again.   

Meaning them like never before,      

Cherishing you like summer rain.      

Love? Love is hopeful in the end
Comforting like a long-lost friend.

This next one is not (well, mostly not) the story of my life. I'm just trying something different here. Playing with a different rhyme scheme while still using familiar subject matter. 


                        Cupid Beware

As for me

I’m as happy as a sad and lonely boy can be.

For you see

I’ve loved and lost so many times before

And once more

I’m in love with this pretty girl next door.

And the two of us

Are simply doing whatever we must,

But the trust,

That history makes the most difficult part,

A miss-thrown dart

Avoids the target and hits the heart.

Right in there

It lodges itself true and painfully square

 Cupid beware!

Soft tissue in this old heart abounds,

Lonely sounds

Haunt these perpetual hardened grounds.

But this time

There Is hope for the light and the rhyme,

A guilty crime,

May steal my ghosts and put them away

On a new day
Where love will forever come to stay.

Ok, as you surely know by now, I often battle depression and despair and I have most of my life. So, these next two poems hit on that topic - one tragic and one hopeful.

        Crazy Mad Despair

Trading in my lonely despair                       

Would be the best way to go.                    

Nothing new for me there;                         

Only lonely heartache to show                  

For all the time in misery.                            

But how to step into a new day,                

Finally, to set my heart free?                     

Planning out a brand-new way                  

To live through a shattered life                 

Without living a lying dream.                                     

Betrayed memory of my wife                     

Would eat away at me it seems,               

Killing what’s left of my soul.                      

But it appears society hates                        

For anyone without a goal                           

Sitting around outside the gates               

Without bothering to go in                                                                          

One foot firmly stuck in hell                        

The other will not move again                        

Until the final tolling of the bell              

Signaling the end of it all                              

And the beginning of eternity                    

Question is will I rise or fall?                       

What is to be my final destiny?                 

I no longer know or even care.                  

As long as my sweet love is there.

            My New Love

Despair is pounding on the gate,

But I’ve learned to control that guy.

Some people say it’s just my fate.

If so, I can’t begin to figure out why.

I’ve fought him off, it seems forever,

Until my heart got good and tired.

But now I know to keep it together

So that I’m no longer hard wired

To always allow my enemy to get in.

Although, he still creeps and tries,

But today I have a special friend

Who knows how to block his lies

And can talk me back from the edge

Before any kind of damage is done.

No longer will I walk out on the ledge

Nor spend my time on the run.

Now, I laugh without a single care

No more will he make me drown.

 My love is with me everywhere,

This new love of mine I’ve found.

He protects me even when I’m bored

Because that’s when despair got in.

But you see my new love is the Lord

Who promised to be my forever friend.

So, the enemy can’t get to me now.

My Lord is my hedge of protection;

Peace and love are all He will allow.

 Blessed be my life in a new direction.

For now, I will follow Him all my days,

And I will do my best to keep His ways.

                    Paperweight

I am a stationary rock, not a rolling stone,

Hardened by the past and smoothed

By many tears that fell like torrential rain,

Flattened as by a river of relentless time

To a lump of nothingness and sublime

Presence without any kind of motivation

To move from this single lonely spot.

Just a jot on the map of the wide world

Overlooked by all who happen to pass by;

A mere nothing on the arm of the spiral,

Just a speck in all the expanding universe

Cursed by love, fate, and instant karma

Left without any excuse or devices

To redeem a heart cold and shattered.

But unlike a stone thrown into water,

I cause no ripples expanding outward.

Only reverberations keep crashing in,

Recriminations for how things have been,

Pointing fingers at my diminished self
For it was me who put me on this shelf.


This next one just sort of showed up in my head unannounced. I don't know where it came from. At least it's not about me for a change.


         The Old Farmer
Paint drying, grass growing
Time, tick……tock…….slow.
Even without knowing,
He knows how this will go.
She is long gone for now,
And yet he lingers and wastes
Away like a frozen solid plow
Left out in his forgotten haste
On a desolate lonely field
After no one came for it
And it could no longer yield;
His duty forgotten bit by bit,
The lone farmer tucked away
In his cold and lonely bed
With no strength to even pray
For the love left in his head
Was absent from his heart
Long since melted and gone
Like old snow on a sunny day.
It still chilled him to the bone.
Even in his nightly dreams,
He let it all slip from his hand
While eerie crow’s screams
Echoed across empty land,
With no one there to hear.
No one sitting by his bedside.
No one there to quell his fear.
No comfort for when he cried.
Not even a shadow came near.
No hope of harvest in the spring.
The old farmer finally died
Still clutching her wedding ring
With her picture by his side.

This next piece just started out being a Facebook post. But then I noticed things were starting to rhyme. And I let it keep on going that way. I realized it could be displayed like a normal poem, but I wanted to leave it as a conversation instead. So, what do you think? Is it poetry, or just crazy talk?


                                                        The Time Machine in My Head
The time machine, that lives in my head, always wants to go back. Always back, never ahead. But what good would it do to change the things I messed up to something new? Would it turn my world upside down? Would it make it better? Would you still be around? Would I learn all the lessons that I did? Or would new ones keep the old ones hid? Would I still be who I am now if I could go back and change it all somehow? I'm not sure, and that's the thing. My life is finally off of that up and down swing. I'm fairly content with the way things are. Now I only want to see what the future might bring. As long as it doesn't take me too far from where you might be. So the present will have to do the way it is for me. Until I finally go to sleep at last, and awake with only vague memories of some future past. Living forever in the eternal now always, love and you filling up all my golden days. So, my time machine will stay where it is - I'll lock its door and be content with my decisions forevermore.

I was tired last night after a long day of just hanging out with friends. So, my muse must have been in a more positive mode for once. This came to me just as I was about to drift off to sleep last night (10/20/2019).

        New Destination

On the deep undulating sea

Under a solid sky of gray,

In dreams, you visited me.

Then like a mist blew away,

Cruelly abandoning a soul

Who is desolate without you;

Adrift without a port or goal

A ghost ship without a crew.

But winds are clearing now,

The grayness from the sky.

And begin to point my bow,

Giving me a reason why

To fly like a pointed arrow

Aimed at the brightest star

On the straight and narrow

Leading to where you are.

No longer do I crew alone

The Master is at the wheel

He knows how far I’ve gone

And promises me to heal

My ship of forlorn estate.

Now he sails by my side

Promising never to forsake

And to always be my guide.

My sails are billowing up,

Leaving dark behind my stern

As I drink a brand new cup

And sail off to where I yearn

To come to rest and finally be

Happy with Him, you and me.

We Will Stand

How many people have to die

before you know the real reason why?

How many buildings have to

crumble and burn

before the bystanders will learn

that fake news fans the fire.

What will it take to call a liar a liar?

Or will you forever be blind

by propaganda and knee-jerk fear?

Will the truth ever become clear,

or is it too late for you now?

Will you just take a knee and bow?

With no dignity left at all,

will you just be a witness to the fall?

Sadly, it is too late for you now,

unashamed you did bow.

And we’ve all seen you take a knee

and bow down to the enemy.

With no hope left in our chest

that you won’t abandon all the rest.

We won’t shed tears for your loss

We will stand at all costs

Filling in the gaps that you leave

We will fight to achieve

liberty and a home for the free

as our forefathers meant this great

country to be.