I lost my dad forty eight years
down memory lane
he always helped me
to misery sustain
but left me so much pain
no, not as much as from his departure
as much as the ills
and Wills
he left upon my shoulders
then hardly thirty

Still today
I am taking pills
he has left no payments
for my medical bills
and
the laziness
and
non cooperation of my siblings does kill
when will you join pop all ask me still.

I need a new computer chair
or else not spend so much time there.
My butt has destroyed all this ones pad
a result that only can be bad.

Plus this old one has no arms
and it's sans both style and charms.
It doesn't even glide or rock.
I'll bet that comes as quite a shock.

When I sit in it long enough
to arise is really tough.
Perhaps I need one with a lift,
a good thought for my birthday gift.

I made it to the majors, dad,
The big leagues, the show.
And I just want you to know
That I owe you so much for helping me fulfill my dream.
For coaching my team.
For helping me when times got tough
And all I wanted to do was just give up.
For telling me to get back on my feet
When all I wanted to do was concede defeat.
I made it to the majors, dad,
Because you taught me to give it all I had.
I'm going to dedicate my first homer to you.
Without you, I could not have made it through.

Glory of Greece (Travelogue)

Infinite heaven reaches across
the Aegean sea; scant clouds
seed the purplish-blue sky.

Gods of Greece long ago
abandoned their crumbling halls
to wander among carob trees;
Daphne herself weaves
the wreath that crowns Pluto
as the ultimate victor.

The ancients walk in shadows
while dusty dreams drape fallen Doric
columns and hush visitors into stark silence
heard by weathered temple statues.

Here comes the train
I've so-long/longed for
Pulling into the platform
The captain says
All aboard

It seems there's
No one else here but me

The captain is trying to hurry me on,
(My willingness is cleverly known)

But which carriage do I board
Many to choose from
The choice is broad

Carriage of thoughts,
Guilt, love and desire
(Maybe all carriages will never expire)

The final call
Come forward
Alight
Come forward

The captain whistles

No need for any poet
to justify

some swings creek
if rusted
and
music ensues

some are oiled
and soft
noiseless
birds sing
all love
the poetic muse

never change your gait
just coz
I don't like to see you
at my gate

come and swing
in the garden of Paris
and say
Captain swings anywhere
any way

be happy and gay
now let's swing
and
ance as you may

Here I sit
Stilted again
Weathered and worn bag
Still heavy in hand

The seat that I sit on
Is comfortably stiff
Many before me have
Sat here, I guess

The view from this seat
Is misty with rain
Through the grey paddocks
My eyes constantly scan

Distance is short
Lived from afar
Oh, now I'm listening hard.
Just as I thought
Here comes the train.

sagging chain link
rusted auto shells
the valley of feral cats

afternoons of haze
climbing hills scorched
into orange
foliage and dry winds
palms sailing tethered
to the curb

ventures to the sea
to bath cavort and
frolic free
carefree ribbed
skinny knees
who cared about
the darkness creeping
like vines
stubble of the cell tower
over view of the glow
blotting out the stars
and the rumble of the
thousand cars

I love driving stakes

Into the ground

Control, aim, drive,

            She never

Intention, fire, result,

            Even said

Swing up, swing down,

            Goodbye.

The ground splits

The ping of metal echoes