Standing on the front porch
I watch the sun rise over the

distant mountains and first light
run across the empty fields.

Morning wind pushes scattered stalks and coffee steam
while bird songs emerge from the tree line.

High bulbous clouds assume many colors
as the sun reaches higher.

Leroy lays at my side sleeping
as we watch night become the day.

Hours become days
and the tasks I desire
succumb to the ones
I dread and I sit
here at the empty table
holding a cold cup of coffee
and daydream of writing.

An early morning walk through a November-drenched park with Leroy, Alaskan coffee, and music. As the wind blew hard off the lake, yet the pace was slow and purposeful, I chose “Lost in the Chambers of the Sea”, by Startle the Heavens (Ben Leopard).

Starting off brisk and cloudy, we watched thousands of ducks float upon the water and eat. Hiking through the trees and along another lake, we left the city behind and let nature cradle our spirits and heal our minds. Looking for peace, we found the rising light and a path through the forest.

Path Through the Trees
Path Through the Trees

Season 4 started two-weeks ago and the second episode is on the website.

Episode 1: Sarah Jessica Parker

Episode 2: George Wallace

A two-story white house
one window blue-framed
large oak tree in the
manicured yard, planter
with purple flowers
sways in the gentle breeze.

Every hour or so
the front door opens
and a man holding a
coffee cup emerges –
cigarette lit,
he watches traffic
on 7th street.

From this distance
across 7th street,
sipping my own coffee,
I ponder the image he
is painting, mixing
in the colors surrounding the house
and the paint upon his shoes.

Here is a raw video of part small part of the reading from 05/04/14 for Good and Evil, sponsored by Cracked Walnut Literary Festival Reading. It took place at Coffee Bene.

I read the following pieces and will post them separately:

This evening is a rare event for me – a public reading of some of my own poetry.  This is only the second I have ever done a reading and is a bit longer than the first one.  For this, I have the painstaking task of choosing three poems.

Good and Evil, sponsored by Cracked Walnut Literary Festival Reading.

Good and Evil
Good and Evil

For some reason, I am fascinated and find the episodes of “Comedians in Cards Getting Coffee” to be laugh out loud funny.  Now, I am not a fan of Jerry Seinfield, and even less so of Tina Fey, but this one is great – http://comediansincarsgettingcoffee.com/tina-fey-feces-are-my-purview

I think it really is about the coffee and seeing these famous people doing normal things, and as it appears, being their true self, whatever we imagine or think that might be.  We see them in a natural setting, talking, and for the most part not trying to be funny, but observing, being open, and are funny because of that.

From a series of poems and prose about Joline


Cigarette smoke settles between us
a soft crackle with each hit
between each sip of coffee.

An ash falls from yours
while we discuss literature,
Chaucer, and final exams.

Looking back, we were just kids
racing toward adults
from one credit to the next.

Concerned with grades, beer,
and pleasure – tomorrow did not exist
and our relationship was fuzzy,
undefined, messy, and hurtful.

But we cared little, and made up
often – lost into ourselves we left
everyone behind closed doors,
swirling in whiskey and Djarums.

Months became years and we
both changed, became more aware
of direction, other pursuits and the
terrible couple we were.

Fights became more frequent
angry outbursts more violent
and still we tried, even through
slit wrists and copious pills
we came back for reasons I forgot.

But I do not know this yet
as we share coffee and cigarettes.

From a series of poems and prose about Joline


Cigarette smoke settles between us
a soft crackle with each hit
between each sip of coffee.

An ash falls from yours
while we discuss literature,
Chaucer, and final exams.

Looking back, we were just kids
racing toward adults
from one credit to the next.

Concerned with grades, beer,
and pleasure – tomorrow did not exist
and our relationship was fuzzy,
undefined, messy, and hurtful.

But we cared little, and made up
often – lost into ourselves we left
everyone behind closed doors,
swirling in whiskey and Djarums.

Months became years and we
both changed, became more aware
of direction, other pursuits and the
terrible couple we were.

Fights became more frequent
angry outbursts more violent
and still we tried, even through
slit wrists and copious pills
we came back for reasons I forgot.

But I do not know this yet
as we share coffee and cigarettes.