@

I died with my bulletproof vest on,
shot in the side like a dead man,
ricochet from the fire of the burn,

it sears me so.

The metal hammer sends down a nail
five-thousand strong
in my side. I feel it flowing out of me.

What good does this vest do, my body
not protected now; never was, never will.
This vest was just a ruse of sorts,

false hope in a dangerous world.

**~~-_-~~**~~-_-~~**

life is set like bowling pins,

in place, on track, to live and die,

caught before emptiness,

returned to its place,

taken by the system

of another will’s force,

coming and going

in wait of the moment

when it happens all over again.

**~~-_-~~**~~-_-~~**

I’m the luckiest boat in all of Cape Cod.
Row-Row-Row me a-boat-boat.
Let me lazy in the Bay
while the others are at play.
I am a fisherman’s boat,
a serenade’s kind of boat,
a lover’s boat.
I am a simple, life-living boat.
I’m a boat without a care in the sea,
since everything is here in the Bay just for me;
I have a spot in the waters where I rest,
so perfect and so beautiful – the best.
The only things I can see and can hear
are the stars in the sky and the people who cheer
Row-Row-Row me a-boat-boat!
amidst the lights, and the sounds, and the wonders of Cape Cod.

11.15.2009

When he first saw the stone, his heart lept

-  a soul, a life, a man placed this stone here -

his comforts were aided by the truth of his statement,

man did live here once before.

The prairie was gold and welcomed the sun

- the fruit, the place, the land sustained life here -

its fertility was protected by the way of the world,

and the stone was its keeper.