poem of the day April 30


Driving through the Connecticut River Valley

watching farm land come to life

Tractor dust churning up the rich brown earth

Old maples in front of old houses breaking buds

A farmer sits by a tobacco barn taking a rest

His cows are everywhere eating the new fresh green of the meadow

There are thousands of daffodils as yellow as the sun 

lining the spring road for me and my car 

poem of the day April 29

The wind works non stop

twisting the aged roof

into submission

I hear the struggle of the nails

as they scrape the sheet steel

of the old New England barn

screaming for mercy on a blustery April day

poem of the day April 28


I wonder if in the future

there will ever be a New America

born from the dying sun

Maybe some place on a distant planet

where the wind still blows free with real democracy

not clouded with long hair, apple pie, apple phones

and too many guns looking for homes

I hope the wall is big enough

to stop John Wayne from getting fame

otherwise it will follow history

down the path of flames

inside of you, inside of me

poem of the day April 27

Stages of life

find us all

Baby to grand

feeding quick silver

Sad holding happy hands

moving at the speed of light

How quick the candle

jumps the moon

The old lady was once

a handsome prince

stacking wood with the girls

caught somewhere between

before and after

Set the sails say I

drive on your dreams

poem of the day April 26

It was a picture perfect prison

There was beauty out the window

There was money, rock and roll and fame

Greed was on every corner wanting more then ever

While jealousy  fought misery for the vain

One more car should do it

Just take another apple

The cart is rolling over them anyway

But be careful or it will trap you

Sitting on the fence with the rest  of us 

who failed to look away

poem of the day April 25

Where the Hudson meets the sea

stands the lady of liberty

I am there on the promenade with my family

thinking about what it means to be free

Is it a state of mind?

An idea of an ancestor who came a shore

on Ellis island to escape some war?

I wonder how they felt to be

in a steamship from a distance land

arriving with a million souls

to build a nation full of holes

poem of the day April 24

The sounds of a city

are just as grand

as the grand canyon

The I love you of lovers

toasting glasses at the outside cafe

The roar of the taxis as they rush away

Their honking horns are trumpets

piercing the night like wolves in the wild

While the lone drunk sings a shanty as

beautiful as the wood cock

I sit here sleeplessly waiting

for the next fresh notes

that arrive on the back

of the garbage truck

beep, beep, clang, clang

listening to the jazz of the city man

poem of the day April 23

All words have be spoken

there is nothing that’s new

Every line is an old song

means something to me

means something to you

Only the piano needs tuning

each generation or so

for ideas locked in vaults

to rush forth and go

into the spring light of day

Where the meanings are fresh

not a cliché in decay  

poem of the day April 22

It is the stereo typical

stereo type

the kind of thing

that gets way over hyped

where exaggerated thoughts

keep coming back

to caricatures of old black and white

with too many guns living about

there’s little time to fish wild trout

so we are forced to make do

with life at zoo hall

wearing the unfortunate fashion inside of us all

poem of the day April 21

The river clam

at the bottom of the well

is guarded by the lasting shell

No emotion of the water flow

can touch the settled path of clam

deep inside the bed of sand

Unless the gate is open wide

only then can the familiar tide

slip inside the tunnel tongue

to steal the pearl from everyone 

poem of the day April 20

Starts with a first drop

that soon bangs out a patter

Spring rain on a cold copper roof

Has me waiting 

Eyes closed

Mind open

Happily hoping to the familiar symphony

April showers bring May flowers

poem of the day April 19

Uniform styles

conformity

with a dignity

born of necessity

Not so much to

belong to an order

But rather not to let 

the individual best

too far ahead of the rest

poem of the day April 18


light so early

sun quite pearly

where i sit curly cupped

with last night's thoughts

watching the long breath

of the ball as it moves over

the first gate of clover

poem of the day April 17


Small islands of snow remain

as a reminder of cold man winter

Deep footprints forged of frozen yesterdays

that take time to clear

I hear if you follow them

you will end up at the north pole

watching summer icebergs

patiently floating in dog days

while waitng for winter's return

poem of the day April 16

The feet step

but don’t choose destination

Nor does the wind

recognize its direction

Yet everyone knows

it is a powerful combination

to be walking down 

the highway of determination 

with the wind at your back

poem of the day April 15

I was in the land of rules

So many rules to keep track of

A rule for this

A rule for that

Even a rule if you sat with a cat

I found it impossible

to do anything else

but follow rule after rule

in a mind coma

of conformity

that has left me

powerless to be anything else 

but a follower

poem of the day April 14

For all of the brilliant

misunderstood spaces

that can not conform

to life in the norm

There are tricks

to appear normal 

inside of turmoil

For instance once you start

let the art come from the heart

poem of the day April 13



Dog on a hill slope

face turned west

I think he is watching the sunset

on God’s day of rest 

poem of the day April 12

The town was displayed in pictures

Main street

High street

The stars lined in yearbooks

looked so young and handsome sledding down  memory roads

Keeping warm by a fire

made of barrels of broken furniture

Post card of 1912

I wonder what treasure was burned within

Luckily the governor arrived at the inn

in the special carriage made of skis

just in time for the house specialty: 

Fried Chicken

After eating  he announced

Small towns live in postcards painted with a past to last

poem of the day April 11

I was waiting

by the back of the line

I did not know the song of life

Time was out in front

with a dance or two

Not waiting in the wings

not for me or you

A tide was moving

at its own speed

with a great year

always here and there

washing up on a familiar shore

where I sat 

watching the bird

turn into a crow

so black outside

yet very enlightening

on the warm inside

Poem of the day April 10


So much detail

in the snail

the driven sin

of slowly crawling

over the same small tears

Year after year

like old rain

trying to get to 

the bottom of the sea

before new waves

crash over

with change

poem of the day April 9

I still wonder

about that

little bird

The little Chickadee

that sings its beautiful name

Chickadee, Chickadee

So cheerfully

with harmony

again and again

How it can do that

even in the sleet

of an awful April rain

poem of the day April 8

For those who

have finally made it

to the station

There is a question

out on the platform

Only asked  while waiting

on the tracks of time

What happens if you

get on the wrong train?

poem of the day April 7

The tree in front of the house

was  an apple

that had been pruned

for the last wedding

Then it was painted

golden to turn out

cider and pies

for the other apple tree

that time had claimed

back for the earth

I was the only one watching

knowing that no other

would  ever see

the two dance

together for the sake

of a spring afternoon

poem of the day April 6

There are

fleeting moments

just before the sun

closes its eyes

where one is able to

walk out of walled closets

and open up the most secret

truths of the inner mind

poem of the day April 5

I woke up

to Easter

but instead of

wasting time

on God

All I can

Think about

are eggs

Blue ones

Pink ones

Red ones

Green ones

Hard boiled dreams

hiding in fragile shells

Full of desire

Full of delusion

Consumed with hope

All waiting for the fight

and the right

To be the big egg

in town

poem of the day April 4

No frost

last night

First night

Jack’s taken

off since

coming down

with Old Man Winter

Hope he’s gone

back from

where the cold came

Feels so good

I'll even pay for his train

poem of the day April 3

The strong will of the

future

is a current

of constant change

For better or worse

the goose only lays

goose eggs

It is only

the superficial value place

on them by

the gold stalk of desire

that drives the greed

deep into human madness

poem of the day April 2

Most vague doctors

living in Hope agree:

For a problematic

night’s sleep

between No and Never

take a tablespoon

of maybe syrup

A fine remedy

guaranteed

to keep those

impossible

decisions alive

poem of the day April 1

I remember this poem

stored in my mind

but I’m sure

I've forgotten

a couple of lines

There was the usual frog

on the Camelot log

Riding the river

fog after fog

Until it came

to the wall of the falls

Where the frog had to decide

to jump back inside

Or go with the ride