Black Friday



Consumer violence breaks out,

Driven by greed or a desire to give,

only a soul can tell which.

The wheels of heartfelt desire,

are spinning donuts … rubber writing circles out of control.

Let our giving war begin … in the battle of Walmart Field.


RIP +++                                          Thanksgiving Day 2013.







The Nest At Thanksgiving


The Nest at Thanksgiving


Sitting empty on a late Fall day,

A bird’s nest presents itself as a waking image.


as unimagined owners now gone,

backlit by a warming sun rising to greet me,

from my nest on the windows other side.


A family raised and dispersed to warmer climes

leaves memories of their growing,

falling from trees, feeding times and fondness.



a warmth glows persistently,

fueled by thoughts and the lumber surrounding my nest.

Felt by the fire of family love.  




Kickboxing again. More violence.

Seems to fulfil, clearing clogged arteries and thoughts simultaneously;

in the gymnasium of satisfaction.

Suddenly all is blank, dark,

the power is out.


Waking slowly, bruises, hangover, dull pain are companions.

Piercing light through clinical blinds,

illuminate a mind with little else present.

Slowly, my awakening begins,

recollections of events and self produce



Motionless, but able to move.

A mind searches desperately for the library of knowledge which is me.

Age … precisely unknown,

Location … somewhere in hospital,

Name … nameless,

Family … MIA

Memory erased.

Disk failure. Where is the rescue disk?


OK, this joke should end now.

The nightmare of “nothing” begins,

But I am awake.





Terrified but without specific worries,

A past unknown haunts,

not because of its presence, but rather absence.

Deep space traveled through …

Without signs,




If no past, then what future?

Unknown without the momentum engine,

a rudder,




A sail without wind.


All that remains is Now.

Each second to be remembered.


To fill gigabytes of fresh storage.

A solid state drive with no memory loss.

No pollution,

or opinions,

political parties,

affiliations or clubs.

Because there are none in me,

just the Now.

The presence of each moment.

A hospital room with its noises and smells.


So now I lie here, still human but more so.

Identity stripped completely,

Left for life,

to start anew

in this moment.

The present. Me and my soul alone.

Unseparated and aware.

My Soul Just Fainted

Streets closed off, each with a man in a light gabardine coat,

concealing something in a perambulator,

unliving yet dangerous,

each loaded with anticipation, mumbles to a co-conspirator,

and waves me on without prejudice.

As if I am some sort of important man,

But I don’t know why.

Walking towards the perimeter, each road is the same,

Dressed the same, lookouts in place,

All wave acknowledgement of some unknown mission.

My soul faints a little more.


Meeting the man who was also the vesper

greeting me from a door years old,

Leads me into the vestibule.

Talking of nothing in particular save the functions of an old Church.

Suddenly all is vibrant and noisy as many exit from the practice room;

sounds of happiness from a preparation completed well.

Music books and scripture in hand,

as if cherished children and scrolls of import.

Those withdrawing include his son and redhead daughter,

Previously unknown, she stands alert, serene,

a beauty not of this world, immersed with peace and love.

Fixated on me in a first meeting.

That bodes happiness together. Forever.

My soul faints some more.



Want … need … take … feed … mate … dominate … submit.

Am I an animal?


Blame it on instinct.

Blame it on Freud.

Blame it on my childhood … even better my parents.

Everything is a disease,

someone else’s fault.


But no. Hold on. Where does love fit?

Is love an instinct, animal behavior?

Or something else. A gift.