My Bird’s Shadow

There’s a mockingbird

That sings so loudly

At times

It’s hard

To get

Anything done

Like a shadow

It’s always beside me

Fluttering just out of reach

With a keen eye

She watches

All that’s around her

Mimicking

All that she hears

But some days

I know she struggles

Like me

So sensitive

So caring

The slightest things

Can affect her songs

Her chirp

Becomes barely a whisper

Like a flower

Closing its petals

Not thriving

From

Too much

Or

Too little

Good times

Or

Dark days of sorrow

The scales

Are sometimes

Hard to balance

Heavily swayed

By

The weight of the world

But the mocking bird

Keeps singing

And

So shall I

With words

On this paper

I will write

Memories of people

And

Places

That have come and gone

In my life!

For

Some friendships

Are

As short as a season

Dropping from me

Like a leaf

From a tree

In autumn

Falling

After its last burst

Of

Bright color!

Yet

The written word

Lives on

Long after memories are gone

And I think

As the bird

Flies away

Into

The dark distance of dusk

Who will drop away from me now

And

What words will I write

To remember them?

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Grunts

An old boss of mine

Once told me

“I work to pay you!”

I speculate

If you’ve come from nothing

And

Are struggling to

Make your way in this world

You’ve probably heard

Something similar! 

It seems to be

A favorite saying

Amongst business folks

To the grunts they hire!

Instinctively they sense the ones

Desperate for a paycheck

They know these folks

Will take all the abuse

Dished out to them

With a smile!

I say this with conviction

For

I’ve seen it happen several times

Over the past 30 years!

Not every owner is this way

But

The ones who are

Can be hard on the mind!

Yet

The soul grows stronger

With every promotional promise

Fed to it

Then taken away!

Every condescending remark

Lobbed at it!

Yes

The soul grows stronger!

Then there’s the owners

That have

Overseers

Managers  

That do their bidding for them!

The owner’s outside appearance

Seems as asleep and peaceful

As a Charles Perrault character

But they’re not asleep

And

Their actions or inactions

Have nothing

To do with the word, “beauty!”   

After a few decades

Of

Working these kinds of jobs

Your spirit will be unbreakable

Or

Broken!  

For years I drifted  

From

One dead-end job to another

Like Richard Kimble

In “The Fugitive”

I didn’t stick around long

When things became too much

My spirit would not allow it!

Make enough to survive and write

Was good enough for me!

Writing was what I was

Put here to do

My commitment

To the written word

To the craft of language

Was all that mattered

So every day after work

I would begin

A night of writing

Bringing characters to life

Collecting my thoughts

Like a child

Collecting their toys!

Looking back

I remember the truly good people

I’ve worked side by side with

And

I remember the bad!

I see how fast it’s all gone by

Like trains I now hear

Running in the distance

Outside my window

Their sounds disappear

Into the darkness of night

Like I soon will do

Falling asleep

While lost in the thoughts

Of

Today and the days gone by!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

This World

This world

Is made by us

Absolutely

Lived by us

No one

But us!

Choices…

What will we choose?

Will we listen to

The all-knowing

Of

The norm?

The average?

Or

Will we listen

To our dreams?

Our hearts?

I say

Listen to our dreams

And

Listen to the dreamers

Listen to the words whispered

By the poets of the past

The poets of today

Take hold of your dreams

They’re speaking to you

And

Only you!

LISTEN TO THEM!!!

So many live

With thoughts and hopes

Of

The next life

Being the grandest

The mind can imagine

Or living with

Fears of forecasted fiery flames

In the hereafter

Without ever living this life!

Stop living with, the what if?

Simply start living!

For

If you spend a lifetime

Without opening your mind

Your mind

Will be

Just as asleep

In the next world

And

All the streets

Paved of gold

Will mean nothing

All the riches will be

As wanted as

30 pieces of silver to Judas

Once the rope tightened

And

His last breath was gone!

Find the true riches in this life

By being alive in it

Not just going through it

Hoping things will be better

In the next!

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave

Irish Rain

Irish rain fall on me

Fall from

Across the sea

For

I’m centuries and miles

Many, many, miles

Away from my homeland

Of

Ireland

Oh

Irish rain fall on me

Puddle in this land of America

Soak into her soil

Like your sons

And daughters

Soaked into the new world

So long ago

My fathers

My mothers

Crossing

The wavy blue waters

Of

The deep dark ocean

Carving out a new life

In a faraway land

In the Appalachians

In The Ozarks

On the streets of Southie

In Pennsport

In Hell’s Kitchen

In Five Points

All the way down to

The farmlands of Florida

Which in turn

Carved out me

Your Irish son!

So

Fall

Little drops of water

Fall far from the sky above

Pulled up to the clouds

By the midmorning’s sun

From

Dew drops dripping down

Grass blades bending

Across the rolling green hills

Of

The countryside

The creeks

The rivers

The rocky cliff shorelines

With their crashing

White cresting waves

The stonewalled castles

The moss covered Ring Crosses

That stand like soldiers

Over

My ancestor’s graves

In Ireland

Then blow clouds blow

Over the sea

To fall on me

As Irish Rain

For

Your drops are as close

As I will get to my homeland

That is

Lifetimes away from me

From my book, When The Cedars Shade Your Grave