Thursday, December 21, 2017


jenny was a girl
who lived on a hill
i loved her once
and i always will

i loved her like a river
a river so deep
“stop following me,
you disgusting creep”

jenny was a girl
who disappeared in the mist
went to the city
and became a feminist

love is a street
than can run one way
but it still burns bright
no matter what they say

i look at the sunset
and the midnight sky
i will always love jenny
until the day i die

i loved jenny
but she didn’t love me
that is just the way
it was meant to be

i wrote this poem
from the heart
is it a “good” poem?
- don’t start

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

a sad case

long ago and far away
i had nothing much to say
my head was largely void of thought
and ambition i had not

i cared not for wealth or fame
or whether anyone knew my name
my brain was not consumed by fire
i had only one desire

and that was never to be tossed
with all the other damned and lost
into society’s swirling deep
and have to - earn my keep

o my fellows, can you say
who invented the working day?
who put chains upon our souls
and cast us in these rigid roles

i should have lived on grass and seeds
hidden in society’s weeds
slept in benches, or in a box
rather than endure the pox

of rising every day at six
to perform employment’s tricks
in a cage of glass and steel
lashed to mammon’s iron wheel

the wheel once started, how to stop?
turn, turn, until you drop
like a feather into the abyss
was there something that i missed?

Saturday, March 25, 2017


last night i played chess with my brother
he always played white

he could never understand
why he should not always play white

he had one oreo cookie left on the board
and i only had a chocolate chip cookie left

he asked if i conceded
and i did

he suggested another game
and i agreed, if i could play white

he got up angrily and left the room

outside, the red sox were playing the giants
and a plane flew low overhead

under a few thin clouds

i wondered why i had returned to san francisco
as it had changed so much from the days of ambrose bierce and jack london