Closed Doors 

Morrison droned Riders on the Storm

from the cabinet stereo.

She was closer than dark on Saturday night.

I could not tell you who was president

the size of the engine in my Detroit muscle

or to what college I had applied.

She was up my sinuses and below my buckle.

Never had a girl suggested the things she promised.

I was a boy with his head in the noose

and his feet dancing in midnight air.

Riders on the Storm. 

Into this house we're born. 

Into this world we're thrown.

Despite my teenage bravado 

and my dad's English Leather

I was clueless how to proceed.

No matter.

She knew precisely.

Like a dog without a bone

or actor out on loan...

She did not need to reach for me.

There was no space between us.

Her stereo had a little green light

and that emerald glow was all

the go signal I required.

Riders on the storm.

Driving home that night

I kept the radio off

and all my windows down

hoping the September wind

would cleanse my soul

and calm my pulse.

It did not.

Girl...take him by the hand

make him understand

the world on you depends.

Our life will never end. 

Gotta love your man.

Ninety minutes in that little green orb

taught me to obey red lights

for the rest of my life.

Riders on the storm.

Master of the Obvious.....#76

If you cannot determine a man's value by the caliber of his soul, hispedigree will tell you nothing.

Master of the Obvious....#75

 If a friend, always underestimate a man. If an enemy, always overestimate him.  

American Soldiers

Soldiers were in my town today.

I heard their cadenced feet.

It seemed an embarrassed mass I saw.

Their faces red with heat.

Soldiers slept in our Capitol tonight.

Legs splayed across marble floors.

They turned within their restless dreams

in the soft light from chamber doors. 

Soldiers were at the walls today

long guns with loaded magazines.

Each warrior questioned his response

to any likely scene.

Soldiers faced another night

this time, sleeping in a frozen garage.

Talking heads all smirking said

it beat an artillery barrage.

Soldiers will all soon board their jets

and they will, to their far homes, fly.

May American soldiers never come here again

prepared to kill or die.

 Wisdom

Quarks and Quasars amaze stargazers

staring into space time

publishing papers only the select read.

I have looked into the books

ancient; never new

and have sealed them into my chest.

Wisdom leaps across narrows and steeps

it swims with Leviathan 

and even strolls on two legs.

Truth rests upon the lowly and best

it circumscribes craggy heights

and anchors in the sunless depths.

Knowledge is etched within throats catched

with desire and contemplation

the university of journeys.

Certainty is proffered 

the depth of need

desperation and hope

a diploma unframed.

Listen to me, I am a working piston

stroking with the energy

from the flash of beginnings.

Seek wisdom, purchase it as a ransom

free to live within your breast

treasured forever!

The Resistant Cap'n

On the eve of New Year's Eve

I sat a new bottle of spiced rum

on the floor beside my bed.

I'd been calculating the sum

of my non-productive life

and my mind was filled with dread.

It's wearisome, is it not?

The way the soul cries for

compensation, for something

to grasp; anything 'more.'

I was having a crisis of faith;

determined to take a taste of liquid redemption.

Two o'clock spun up

and I was wide asleep;

in that space between sighs

when that gap before you is deep.

Maybe I stopped caring, ceased to think

looking from reddened eyes, listening to lies.

My fingers reached for Cap'n Jack

lifting the bottle from the floor.

Grasping the neck's cap, I applied pressure

twisting it more and more.

For sometime I labored to open the bottle

but it refused to comfort and reassure.

Ultimately, I surrendered my battle with the bottle

and pressed my face into my bed sheet.

The Cap'n is not my friend.

I had forgotten how to stand upon my feet

and trust in those truths I'd professed 

for years, through cold and heat.

I will not attempt to moralize, my dears.

The lesson here is plain.

No man is beyond the struggle.

Every temptation may leave a stain.

But there is no victory over sin just because

the sealed cap, on the bottle remains!

The Sweetest Moment 

Civil war soldiers, having tasted combat

said they'd "Seen the elephant."

They would see it repeatedly

until it stomped them

gored them

or left them.

From the perspective

of many trips around the sun

I, too, have "Seen the elephant."

The first time it came 

blistering through the sawgrass

it arrived in the form

of one pretending an ally

who told me, simply, he was

going to kill me.

The elephant roared again

when an assailant fired three rounds

past my left ear.

Each bullet buzzed like a honeybee.

I could feel the heat of each one

just before it pancaked into the brick wall

behind me.

The elephant laughed the day

as a building laborer

I tumbled through a hole

in the ceiling of a ten foot room

landing on my back

across an aluminum ladder.

It laughed again the morning

a giant of a drunken fool

stood across from me

and tucked my Bible

beneath an arm the size of 

a fire hydrant, saying the sacred book was his.

I jammed my chin into my chest

and rammed the behemoth in the gut.

I really didn't think that through.

I retained my Bible and my honor

But the elephant stumbled away.

The elephant was not laughing

that November morning

a blood vessel burst 

deep within my brain

doing what neither 

my false friend

three bullets

a fall

and a thug

did not do.

I have "Seen the elephant"

and in so doing have learned

a few lessons:

Take the threat seriously

even when it smiles at you.

Especially when it smiles at you.

Never smile back.

When you once more open your eyes

look at the sky.

Appreciate the color.

Smell the sweet air and drink it in.

Feel your neurons fire

and your nerves react

from your brain

to your extremities.

Listen to the music in the trees.

Feel the goodness of your heart thumping

in your chest.

And celebrate that the elephant has

once more

thundered into the brush.

You must see it at least once more.

And in that final moment, it will win.

But that is then.

This is now.

This time, you are walking away.

And that, my friend

apart from cradling your babies

in your arms

is the sweetest moment in life.

 Master of the Obvious...#74

Until one has been challenged in their ability to simple draw himself/herself erect and walk a straight line for more than five feet, they have yet to face the true aspect of resolve. 

(One may substitute for the above: "...push back that glass of alcohol, resist those pills, walk away from that wayward temptation, etc.")