Still Livin’ Just for You

Don’t much care
No one to talk to
Left it all behind
Seems like yesterday
Tryin’ my best to move on

Too much heartache
Sorrow, broken promises
No gettin’ used to
Life without you
Barely livin’ day to day

Oh baby, tryin’ to forget you
Our happy times together
Even the moments in between
Testin’ us, me and you
Just barely livin’ day to day

I kept your last letter
Read it often, so sad and blue
How you walked in the rain
Cried away all memories
Why I’m livin’ just day to day

Now all I have–this song
Lingering memories, how we were together
Spinning out of control
No idea it would ever stop
Oh baby, still livin’ just for you

Note: Written on July 15, 1969 in Tucson, Arizona

Mom Died Somewhere Between the Window Blinds

Mom died
Somewhere between the window blinds–
The sun took her home
In just a mere blink of the eye

She’s in a grave now, not far
from where she was born
A solitary place, in peace
What she wished her world to be

Morning sun is so important
Not just to hungry house plants
Leaning desperately in its direction
It awakens us all from our sleep
The darkness surrounding our light

Mom died
Somewhere between the window blinds
A place eventually light finds us all
Leaning in its direction
Hopefully to go home in peace

—–

Note: What do any of us know about death until our time comes? Maybe even then we know nothing about it. For all we know, death could be no more or less complex than light passing through the window blinds.

innocent eyes spotting a deer in the wildflowers

lone deer standing so very tall
amidst a patch of spring wildflowers
wearing, as they always do, long stems
and remarkable yellow-red headdresses

not a far off place, a simple place nearby
where spring makes its way past–
all the nonsense, indifferent faces
standing between you, me, and joy
transcending the imagined realities, even
the promises we hoped for as children
forgot as adults, yet
linger as ghosts in our souls

strange but it finally ends–all of it
the pretense, promises, misplaced and forgotten words
losing all effect, ultimately giving back to us
the innocent eyes that gave birth to us
those spotting the lone deer in the wildflowers

The News

He wasn’t going to make it
He knew it
So did his agitated, pacing wife
Though they couldn’t be certain, until
they heard the doctor’s ominous knock, and
his heavy footsteps, carrying him
to the side of the man’s bed

The doctor didn’t stay long
Doctors never do
Whether you’re healthy or sick
In this case, it’s just as well
The doctor’s spotless white coat–
An ugly reminder of death’s ghostly face

From my bed across the hall
I watched the closed white curtain
Surrounding the old man’s bed
Making me wonder what was on the other side
Of the curtain, of life

I prayed my news tomorrow would be better
That God would decide He’s not finished with me
That I might hold my wife’s hand for a little while longer

In Defense of the Resistance

Always remember Grasshopper
Life definitely comes and goes
No “this or that” right or wrong
In the eyes seeing past it all

Being rich and famous gets you nothing special
No date with the ultimate queen
No special time with her father, and
No forgiving your countless speeding tickets

I’ve given up feeling sorry for anyone
Proclaiming they are “county commissioner” special
Someone demanding our obedience
Expecting our surrender to their misplaced sense of favor

Call me an idealist, or
Someone who just doesn’t cope well
With social injustice, or forsaken compassion
But every offense indeed deserves a defense

And in this case
You should know you’re dealing with
A 900-pound middle linebacker
Running the 100-yard dash under 9 seconds

Rain When You Want Sunshine

It rained this weekend, again
I wanted sunshine
In the yard, in my life

I didn’t curse God
I just felt sorry for myself
Too much rain in my life
Too many days without sunshine
Too many things slipping through my fingers
Lost and wasted chances
Spilling on the floor
Cluttering my life
Like the dump where we shot rats
When I was a boy with hope, and dreams

It’s not the rain that bothers me
It’s the dreariness, the gloom
The heavy gray clouds pinning me to the muddy earth
Covering up the dream I hoped could be my life

It Feels Over

It feels over
Like the best part of me has ended
Leaving little of what I once called my life

It feels over
More water under the bridge
Than waiting its time to flow

It feels over
Accomplishments, getting things done
A looking forward to tomorrow

It feels over
No need for a calendar to remind me
Of what I used to look forward to

I can’t help but wonder
If it’s something I did, or didn’t do
That drove it all away