Wishes in a dream
So real, so they seem
Turn to ashes
Upon awakening
Thoughts provided
Receive undivided attention
Reality so hard to see
In a world of illusion
A kaleidoscope of thoughts
All in the form of crystalline
Only a few are caught
Wonder if they’re mine
Written in 1970
Your mom and I were just a couple when
Christopher’s birth made us a trio
How scary and wonderful it was back then
Each day became a new adventure
In just a day our lives did change
When formula and diapers became
The first items on our grocery list
I’m so sorry it had to be you, Chris
You were our experiment
Learning each new day
How hard it was to shape a life
Without getting in the way
It was a blessed day
When our daughter Kelly came our way
To teach and guide us that along the way
That hugs and smiles light the way
Our baby Joe was born at home
His brother and sister held him ten minutes later
He’s special that way still, a miracle to me
A bonding force of which he’s unconscious
With all of you, we’ve struggled at times
As I am sure most loving parents do
I want each of you to know we’ve tried
To let you find the best in you
From your first breaths to your first steps
And every day since, our love for you keeps growing
And when we no longer grace this earth
You will walk in the shadow of our love
Battered and beaten, he retreats
Searching for a moment’s solace
But looking, one can see
The defeat etched across his face
Slowly he stumbles, each step a victory
What his battered body allows
Drinking his breakfast of whiskey
His shattered soul takes a bow
Agonizing over his coming sobriety
The cold and loneliness looms
Trying to grasp a homeless piety
He wanders among the cardboard tombs
Even he can occasionally see
A lifetime ago, before the fall
A family man, a fading memory
So very, very hard to recall
As I pass this human shell
Gratitude for my small misfortunes
Grants me the privilege to wish him well
To share a smile and a twenty-dollar fortune
Feeling trapped, can’t seem to get away
Wrapped in lost days and lost ways, alone again
Can’t seem to get things right with you, with you
Reaching out loving you, missing you
So what’s it going to take for me
To make it through another day
One more beer to make
The heartache fade away
And just because self-pity comes so easy
To me, it shouldn’t be what I feel
When I look at you and you hold me tight
Why can’t I just fall into your eyes
So what’s it going to take for me
To make it through another day
One more beer to make
The heartache fade away
Need to find a way out of my mind
Follow my heart to where it leads me
Back into your heart and into your life
Need to jump start my heart
So what’s it going to take
For you to embrace
This bewildered and broken man
Making his last stand
Need to find a way out of my mind
Follow my heart to where it leads me
Back into your heart and into your life
Need to jump start my heart
Blank stares, sterile teeth
Flashing through silent lips
Is honesty just a dream now?
Is honesty just a dream?
Alone – it’s not so bad, true it’s sad
But the lies, there’s just too many now
And the cries of the helpless and gutless
Who can judge, you? – maybe you?
And you feel safe behind the walls
You’ve erected to protect you from falls
And safe in knowing that no one can see
That behind those walls it’s empty
And you hope and you pray
That you’ll be the one to be saved
But when building your walls you got carried away
And now no one can penetrate…your walls
I have many questions for you today. First, if you were going to write your autobiography, would it fill a postcard or be a thousand-page novel?
Are you an “important” person with initials after your name? Do you fill your days with planners and business meetings? Are you so busy that you push aside the people and things that truly matter in your life? Are you just an “average” Joe or Jane trying hard to make things work, struggling to get the kids off to school, get to work on time, make it to the soccer games, get dinner ready, and pay your bills on time? Now it really does not matter what category you fall under. So I ask again, if you were going to write your autobiography, would it fill a postcard or be a thousand-page novel?
Do you want to tell your life story to the world? Do you feel the need to? Will it help others knowing your struggles or accomplishments? I am sure most of you can think of autobiographies you have read about historical figures or celebrities. Which one are you? Does it matter?
What do you think Mother Teresa would have written for her autobiography? My guess she would have scratched “I’ve tried to help the best I could” on a napkin. Can any of you think of another person that has influenced so many people in one lifetime?
Now, I am going to ask again, are you a postcard or novel candidate? More importantly, can you be fulfilled with a postcard life? I do not mean to infer that your life, no matter what category, is not filled with unique experiences, trying situations, drama, comedy, you name it. But are you selfless enough to say I’ve tried my best, and leave it at that?
To me, setting priorities in life are much more important than setting goals. If the only priority you have in your entire life is to help others you will achieve gifts that have no price tags. If setting and meeting your goals at any expense is more important to you, the gifts you receive will be fleeting.
Now as a businessman I set business goals. I work hard to achieve these goals. I never attain these goals at the expense of my priorities. Could I gain more wealth and prestige if I shoved aside my priorities? I believe I could but at the expense of losing my soul. It is just not worth it.
Which will you lead, a postcard or a novel life? It’s your choice.
Friends are much like trees
Plant the seed and watch it grow
It branches out and changes seasons
The leaves, they fall, to grow again
In the spring of lifetimes
The handshake replaces the hug
The kiss on the cheek replaces
A misplaced love
Some may blossom and fly away
On the wind, some return again
Some they stay and drift away
But some will stay and grow each day
Ever reaching for the sky, always upward
Intertwining, on a path forever winding
Down a road that’s being broken
By the roots of love ever-growing
Published in Endless Mysteries by the
International Library of Poetry in 2002
I say it to myself
A hundred times each day
Thinking of all the ways
I love you
And it’s just because of you
I can touch the sky
Oh, I can fly away with you
Away with you
Dreams, they’re not all they seem to be
I’ve got you, you’ve got me
Dreams, they’re much more you see
When two become as three
A breeze through the autumn leaves
The salt spray of an ocean breeze
It’s serenity
It’s serenity
Written in 1979
Words
Written to rhyme
Keeping in time
With thoughts in mind
Words
On a paper napkin
Reminds me of when
You made my head spin
Words
That I use to express
This feeling of fullness
And of gentleness
Seem to lack
This feeling inside me
Which cannot be expressed by
Words
written in 1969
She’s just my little girl
Been that way since she came into this world
Be that way for the rest of my life
Doesn’t matter if she’s five or sixty-five
Her swimming pool was a five-gallon bucket
And there was plenty of room to spare
Grandma’s glasses was hers to claim
Anyone’s pocket was her personal domain
Built her a house for Barbie and Ken
Think she was nine, maybe ten
Her mouth got so big, her eyes bigger still
I don’t know which one of us got the bigger thrill
Now she’s a teenager
Her room’s always a mess
Time is slipping away
She’s growing up to fast
She’s got a mind of her own
And I thank her mom for that
She’s got a heart of gold
And I thank God for that
When she’s thirty-five with kids of her own
She’ll still sit on my lap and bring me back home
To the times we spent through thick and thin
To her hugs and kisses when she was nine, maybe ten
I wrote this song for my daughter when she was a teenager around 1999. She is now closer to 40 than to 10, but as each day goes by my love for her grows. I am proud to say she has become a beautiful, loving woman, wife, and mother. All the things her mom and I hoped for her.