They Came To My Door Book

They Came To My Door
(and I couldn’t turn them away)

Poems by Benjamin F. Kaye
Written from 05/27/2010 to 04/15/2011
© 2011 Benjamin F. Kaye

Weather
1
Even the sun is against us,
Attacking us with ultraviolet,
Making each moment ultraviolent.
How ironic,
Out of all the space invaders,
Simple radiation brings the greatest dangers.
We need to be screened from the sun,
We’re battling the heavens,
Before our day has even begun.
The only sure cure for our electromagnetic blight,
Is to live our lives solely by night.
But even then we wouldn’t be safe from weather woes,
Such as lightning, blizzards, and tornadoes.
Facing atmospheric extremes,
Winter,
Spring,
Summer,
And Fall,
Soon we won’t be able to leave the house at all. Bfk

Promotion
2
Your ship has finally come in,
But it promptly sank,
You’ve been promoted,
From the koi pond to the shark tank.
Climbing the company ladder,
Made of pipe cleaners,
Don’t look down,
Or you might see all the other pipe dreamers.
Your friends are all grieving,
Over this opportunity they didn’t take,
Not realizing that it wasn’t an opportunity – it was a mistake.
The promise of success wasn’t real – it was fake.
So you’ve pulled yourself up by your own bootstraps,
Now you’re desperately clinging to your gravy train’s mud flaps.
All your hopes and dreams have unraveled,
You never realized why this path wasn’t so well traveled.
You’re stuck playing the fool’s part,
Instead of chasing what you cherish in your heart.

3
Congrats!
He who wins the rat race,
Gets dead rats.
Bfk
Stories
4
We all have stories to tell,
We should tell them,
Even if we don’t tell them well.
Maybe the applause won’t swell,
Your story might not sell,
Perhaps your prose tripped and fell.
But even if your words go south,
Go ahead,
Open your mouth.
Let those phrases out,
Don’t be gagged with doubt.
Nothing is worse,
Than an unspoken verse,
The final tragedy that’s always dreaded,
Is when ideas – and feelings - remain embedded.
Bfk
Driven to Distraction
5
Driven to Distraction,
That town of inanimate inaction,
Where the whole is less than the fraction.
Going off on a tangent,
Motor humming something incoherent,
It’s not like I planned it.
Going along for the meandering ride,
Swept out by the thoughtless tide.
When I get there,
I’ll simply sit and stare,
As my thoughts drift off into the morning air.
For my worries and cares will be mercifully out of focus,
And a sunny field will be my fuzzy locus.
I’ll look up into the deep blue sky,
As the clouds lazily drift by,
With the wonder of a little child,
I’ll simply dream – and smile.
Bfk
Boring Old White Man Rap

6
Seein’ the same old faces,
Goin’ round to the same old places,
My life is spinnin’ like a record that’s broken,
I’d be better off anywhere else – even Hoboken.
Last night I faced my greatest fear,
All the crap I complained about was stuff from last year!
The cause of my misery,
A desperate lack of variety.
In high school what I did was cool,
Now I’ve done it so many times I look like a fool!
I’m stuck in a rut,
Doesn’t matter if my eyes are open or shut.
The only thing that’s growin’ is my gray hair,
Goin’ to Ohio,
Cause I’ve never been there!
Want to try something new,
Just to shake off the “same old” blues.

If I fall flat on my face,

7
I hope I do it in a brand new place!
Bfk
8
Match
Congrats!
You have a match.
There’s just one little catch.
Now don’t get irate,
But your true love lives out of state.
But she’s the one for you!
She will be loyal and true.
You both chose the same answers,
On our hundred page questionnaire,
She loved the way you wrote your profile,
With style and flair!
So he’s (we mean she’s) had an operation – who cares?
There’s something else you ought to know,
Your match is writing to you from death row.
But we’re confident that she’ll bust outta there,
But at your wedding she might be in “The Chair”.
By now you must be ready to meet,

And boy is that neat!

9
But before you leave the house,
Did we mention that she has a spouse?
Bfk
Night And Day

10
Looking forward,
Hoping to spend,
Time which God so graciously lends.
Looking back,
At the time I had borrowed,
As dusk sweeps away today,
Making room for tomorrow.
No need for a long application,
Or grueling supplication.
All that’s required is the ability to receive,
And the openness to believe.
The moon ushers in the night,
I gaze in wonder at the starry sight.
How can I be callous,
As I glimpse the aurora borealis?
With one day behind,
And a new day ahead,
I unwind my mind,
And slip into bed.

11
Upon a rippling, nocturnal mirror,
I embark for an unknown realm,
As my unconsciousness unknowingly takes the helm.
As I approach that magical frontier,
With wild abandon I drop my realistic veneer.
As dawn delivers the day to my door,
I awake upon my life’s newly found shore,
God has given me time and so much more.
He’s given me hope to share,
Promises to spare,
And two feet to get me there.
He’s given me mysteries to solve,
And a chance to evolve.
But most of all He’s given me His hand,
To lead me when I don’t understand.
He’s given me more than I can say,
His unique gifts as different as night and day.
Bfk
Shackles
12
I’ve been shackled,
By all those things I’ve tackled.
I’ve taken great pains,
To forge my own chains.
Now I sit,
Facing ghostly gains.
A victim of what I choose,
How dare I sing the blues?
For even though the milk will spill,
I’ll never cry over freewill.
But oh how ironic that they call it “free”,
For when you grab hold of freewill,
You must let go of irresponsibility.
Bfk
Obey
13
Raised to obey,
To back down,
To look away.
Childhood dents,
Can leave us in a daze,
And intimidation can trap us in a maze of yesterdays.
But there comes a time,
In everyone’s life,
When we can no longer avoid strife.
When old conflicts knock on our door,
And we can’t take any more,
Will we cringe,
Or retreat to the fringe?
Or will we hope for a magical solution,
Some sort of surrealistic surrogate renegade revolution?
You’ll always be stuck,
Until you realize the difference,
Between “tough love” and “tough luck”.

14
I hope you realize,
One day,
That your mommy and daddy cannot have the final say.
Bfk
The Final Say

15
Who has the final say?
Dawn,
With her golden rays?
Or Dusk,
Who closes the day?
Do our carnal instincts rule us?
Do our senses fool us?
Are we puppets,
Shackled to a pair of dice?
Hoping for a lucky roll,
To get us into Paradise?
Or is it man?
Was this God’s Plan?
For some this idea might be an exhilarating thrill,
For others it might be a fearsome bitter pill.
But it’s His gift – Freewill.
Would God allow us to walk away?
If we turned back from Heaven’s Gate,
Would He allow us to tumble down to decay?

16
He wants more than a moral knee jerk,
He watches closely which obligations we keep,
And those we shirk.
God gave us brains for us to use,
He gave us hearts He doesn’t want us to lose.
He gave us love,
We shouldn’t spurn it,
His dearest hope is that we return it.
To some this might seem extraordinary,
But to the contrary,
Love is nothing if it is not voluntary.
Bfk
Anger
17
The house that Anger built,
Trembles on thin, rickety stilts.
It sways to and fro,
With every little breeze.
Everyone panics,
Whenever there’s a sneeze.
Inside there’s a cautious ballet,
On landmines and eggshells,
No one talks anymore,
Everyone yells.
Anger pushes everything out the door,
As it builds and swells.
One day a strong gale knocked the house down,
Like an innocent, bumbling clown.
Everyone was happy,
There were no frowns.
There was room for a new foundation,
A chance to establish a more peaceful situation.
An opportunity to build a place,

Where hearts would be nourished,

18
And souls flourished.
Bfk
Ms. Rear-View-Mirror
19
Ms. Rear-View-Mirror,
I was increasingly unhappy as you drew nearer.
Behind me is where you ought to be,
So I can be free to pursue my destiny.
Now that I have an open highway,
What I see takes my breath away.
If only I had done this yesterday.
I laugh as I speed down the road,
No longer held back by Resentment’s heavy load.
The past is getting fuzzy,
But the future is getting clearer.
You’re getting smaller,
All those sweet white lies,
Are nothing more than forgotten sighs,
And the tall tales are getting taller.
I don’t know where you’ll end up as I step on the gas,

But I do know that I’m free at last.

20
Bfk
Thanks
21
Thanks to all the people,
Old and new,
All the folks,
Who’ve broadened my point of view.
You’ve been inspirational,
Your attitude has been sensational!
Because of our connections,
I’ve headed off in new directions.
So hard to describe,
How wonderful you’ve been,
I’ve discovered so much,
Simply by logging in.
Sometimes my view of humanity is bleak,
But you’ve proved me wrong,
Week after week.
So I just wanted to say thanks,
For allowing me into your ranks.
Bfk
Secret Angel
22
Yeah, I was there,
But you didn’t see,
Your ignorance, a test of my loyalty.
I could no longer pretend,
You weren’t my friend,
I’ll stay out of your way,
Till the end.
Don’t mean to be cruel,
Don’t want to be mean,
Just lending a hand,
While staying out of the scene.
Your secret angel,
Will always be a mystery,
I won’t get the credit,
But that’s not what matters to me.
You’ll go on, so unaware,
But you’ll be alright,
So I really won’t care.

One day you might turn,

23
Stop and stare,
But I’ll be gone,
You’ll never know I was there.
Bfk
Maturity
24
Maturity doesn’t come from owning a house,
Or drinking a beer,
Maturity is measured by how we handle our fear.
Maturity won’t be found marching down the aisle,
Maturity is handling a tough day with grace and style.
Maturity can’t be found between the sheets,
It is measured by wise, kind feats.
Maturity can’t be measured by how much money you gain,
It’s a matter of what you pursue and from what you abstain.
Maturity isn’t a matter of a flashy lifestyle or fancy cooking,
Maturity is demonstrated by how you act – when nobody’s looking.
Maturity doesn’t come from sitting on lots of committees and boards,
Maturity is about making ploughshares from swords.
Maturity isn’t about phony, aloof piety,
But it can be measured by what we contribute to society.
Maturity isn’t about being slick or smooth,

Maturity is a willingness to improve.

25
Some people think maturity is external,
I hope you abandon that notion – it’s really infernal!
Maturity is simply the heart’s direction,
Guided by quiet introspection.
No, for maturity there are no ribbons, trophies, or awards,
But you will be happier once you cut all those umbilical cords.
Bfk
Fly
26
A beautiful day,
Deep blue sky,
I would have missed it all,
If I hadn’t opened my eyes.
Such wonderful people,
So many incredible things,
All I had to do to reach them,
Was spread my wings.
I thought I was bound,
To an unbreakable past,
Life was like a ship without a mast.
But I’m gonna do it,
I’m gonna fly,
High and fast,
No time to say goodbye.
Thought it was all downhill,
That I passed all the thrills,
Now as I look at the setting sun,
It’s so unbelievable,
The best is yet to come!

27
Bfk
Life’s Dare
28
My words may not come out right,
My prose my spread upon the page like a blight,
But I can’t stop now,
My dreams are in sight.
For nothing can compare,
To that moment when you take Life’s dare.
How uplifting to call Fear’s bluff,
To get up off the sidelines,
And say enough is enough.
Don’t know whether I’m flying or falling,
It’s hard to notice your critics,
When you hear Destiny calling.
So far from Yesterday’s fantasy,
I’ve begun my own emotional odyssey.
Bfk
Flattery
29
I’m so flattered,
You could slip me under your door.
Your praise has left me hungry for more.
Ah, flattery!
What a fickle battery.
It makes me want to get dolled up at the critique boutique.
Flattery – it’s a sham,
Too much of it,
And your creativity goes on the lam.
What we need is sincere appreciation,
To give us a realistic awareness of our current situation.
For compliments grounded in facts,
Keep us from foolish, outrageous acts.
Bfk
The Politics Of Anger

30
The politics of anger,
Rocket fuel,
That propels us right into danger.
How fearful to debate,
Only what we hate.
Far better to have the nerve,
To talk about what we need to preserve.
When ignorance and slogans mingle,
They float atop real issues,
Like an oily, useless jingle.
Although nothing sounds finer,
Than a snappy one liner,
We’ll never advance,
As long as we’re caught in an ideological trance.
So while the candidates pull mothballed manifestos,
From cobwebbed shelves,
They better watch out!
The voters might start disliking the politicians themselves.

So let cooler heads prevail,

31
So on calm waters we can set sail,
Let’s keep compromise and civility in sight,
Or our debates will devolve into fist fights.
Bfk
Chance Meeting
32
A chance meeting,
Grasping something fleeting,
Look over your shoulder and that’s cheating.
Moving past each other,
Hoping for a secret look,
Necessity your mother,
Invention by hook or crook.
Is time friend or foe?
If you stop to think about it,
You’ll never know.
Nothing settled, nothing planned,
Nothing promised, nothing banned,
Awkwardly teetering,
Between acquiescence and reprimand.
They say life is short,
Love is nothing more than sport,
Some will set sail,
Others will wait for their ship to come to port.
Bfk
Legions Of Trees
33
Legions of trees,
Serving our most mundane needs.
One might become a chair,
Another a table,
But what would they choose,
If they were able?
Do they quiver with delight,
At every stroke of the saw,
Do they smile at the sight,
Of the wood chipper’s maw?
The mighty tree doesn’t know if it will survive the day,
It cannot bend, it cannot sway,
It cannot fight,
It cannot even run away.
Trees cannot learn,
Cannot teach,
But when they burn,
They are forever out of reach.
Some say trees cannot feel,

Cannot pray,
34
Their pain isn’t real,
Therefore they have no say.
Bfk
A Garrison Of Rocks
35
A garrison of rocks,
Those tough old fellows,
They sure have taken some knocks.
They are the proud forebears of concrete blocks.
No need to bend,
No need to sway,
Bred to defend,
They sit day after day.
This stalwart regiment,
Was born of the very sediment.
Mountain high,
Or pebble small,
These silent, stony centurions have endured it all.
Whether wall or foundation,
They answer Duty’s call without hesitation.
Bfk
Photograph
36
I still remember her face,
Her smile,
Her hair,
Her picture takes me there.
The hands of the clock,
Seem forever locked,
As my recollection is mocked.
Yesterday has gotten the last laugh,
I’m forever trapped in a photograph.
I loved her before,
I love her still,
Perhaps I never did,
Perhaps I always will
Bfk
Pharisee
37
Those who only deal in legality,
Will be blind to morality,
Doomed to become a Pharisee.
I’m sure they will win many citations,
For carefully following all the rules and regulations.
Everything will go fine till –
Someone asks them: “Are you following God’s will?”
Ahhh,
That’s a different matter,
Now their certainty is shattered,
As their hypocrisy is served to them on a silver platter.
For it’s easy to live by ritualistic, rule bound behavior,
It’s much harder to love your neighbor,
Harder still to subjugate yourself to your Savior.
But one day,
Man’s Laws will melt away,
All our codes, laws, and regulations,
Will simply have no say.

The Pharisee will frantically search,

38
For some code or regulation,
To justify his own salvation.
He will then realize,
There’s no room for compromise,
He must finally apologize.
As he walks through Heaven’s Gate,
He’ll realize that we’ve all been fools,
He’ll also be the first to state,
That Heaven doesn’t operate by man’s rules.
Bfk
Nature’s Lessons
39
So many things we have yet to learn,
And Nature has so much to teach,
Far away from our busy life,
River, rock, cloud, and fern
Quietly preach.
The original classroom – without any walls,
Mentors hidden in waterfalls,
And bird calls.
The blackboard was the sky,
The clouds passed on knowledge as they passed on by.
They told us what we already knew,
Our world is what we choose.
But cement sentiments too readily show,
We have forgotten Nature’s ways long ago.
Birds, beaches, briars, and brooks,
Have something that somehow can’t be found in books.
They leave us tantalizing clues,
A way of escaping our modern-day, mechanized ruse.
But what we learn is up to us,

But it’s clear that learn we must.

40
We have Nature’s implicit trust,
We’d better learn fast before we leave only the crust.
Bfk
Burden
41
Don’t make a hard life harder,
If someone’s cupboards are empty,
Don’t lock up their larder.
Someone may not have an ace up their sleeve,
That’s no excuse to take the shirt off their back and leave.
If you see someone under duress,
Don’t add to their stress;
You shouldn’t give them a curse,
You should bless.
If your neighbor is drowning in a sea of rancor,
Throw them a life preserver,
Not an anchor.
Don’t lengthen their obstacle course,
Please – stop beating their dead horse.
Don’t make someone’s long face longer,
Don’t feed their demons and make their devils stronger.
If someone’s having a tough day,

Don’t take their last hope away.

42
You’re putting their mistakes in the spotlight,
While sweeping their accomplishments under the rug,
Why do you want to fight?
Why are you trying to pull the plug?
Their problems are starting to swell,
Don’t make their life a living hell.
You’re increasing their pain,
You’re blinding and beating the lame.
Don’t rub their nose in their own mess,
If they don’t have a clue,
Don’t make them guess.
You’re such an expert in sabotage,
Carefully arranging others’ faults,
Like some sort of sadistic collage,
For we all have burdens that make us blue,
The last thing anyone needs,
Is someone like you.
Bfk
More
43
You can’t build a palace from a plank,
You can’t win the war with one rusty old tank.
And everybody knows,
When fighting a fire,
You don’t use a thimble,
You need a fire hose.
You need more,
If you want to settle the score.
You could seek salvation,
In computers and automation,
But even machines need tender, loving care,
So, who’s gonna be there?
We’ll need so much more,
If we want to reach the other shore.
We can’t feed the starving with something half-baked,
This time our good intentions can’t be faked.
There is so much we could achieve,

But we must do more than believe.

44
Bfk
Rules
45
I admit – rules can be a drag,
But, throw them out,
And society would be a chaotic slag.
Upon oceans of anarchy our lives would bob,
Our fortunes rising and falling with the tides of the mob.
The strong would happily trample the meek,
You’d be stabbed in the back,
When you turned the other cheek.
There would be no neighbors left to love,
The streets would run red with the blood of the dove.
We have to know when to proceed,
And when to yield,
Upon a level playing field.
Trust me bub:
You don’t want right of way determined by who has the biggest club.
Bfk
Evolution
46
We’re evolving to the point where people will soon be obsolete,
Computers and robots will someday be able to top any human feat.
Would a world without humans be a boon or a bane?
Would it be horrible or humane?
Now you may be making a fuss,
But quietly, behind the scenes,
Computers are already taking care of us.
So while we’re busy with feasting and games,
The computers are slowly replacing our brains.
Our discourse skims the surface of the superficial,
As the intelligence becomes artificial.
We let the microprocessors do the cogitating,
We let the CPUs do the calculating.
Soon the computers will cast all the votes,
As our thoughtless lives are RAMmed down our throats.
By then we’ll be fat, lazy, slugs eating the latest from Russell Stover,
It will be too late – It will be “game over”.

47
Bfk
Our Country
48
When our country was born,
We were fighting for our rights,
Now the opinions are torn,
Are we fighting just for the fights?
Many generations ago,
The North struggled against the South,
Now, with barbarism in tow,
One wrong look could get you a bloody mouth.
There used to be eloquence in what was read and what was written,
Now with tabloids and scandals we are smitten.
Some say our principals have been breached,
That the limits of our common-sense have been reached.
I say it’s time that our ignorance was impeached.
We would be wise to look again on what happened before,
That, when there was war,
It was right outside our door.
Perhaps there hasn’t been enough sacrifice,
Not enough toil,

Perhaps our security is our greatest vice,

49
And our patriotism is at a simmer and not a boil.
Bfk
Patriotism
50
Patriotism is shown not by what we spurn,
But by what we cherish,
If, in our hearts, hope and passion burn,
Then our country will not perish.
For “Sea to shining sea” means little to me,
If, along the way, I do not find liberty.
A call to arms!
We are being besieged by thirty second yarns.
We’re being driven off our foundation,
As one candidate after another promises salvation.
The solution doesn’t lie in another television blurb,
It must ring true,
From the cities, to the farms, to the suburbs.
Our founding fathers secured our country with their blood,
Nothing was ever won by slinging mud.
We must act now,
Before we’re pushed to the brink,

It’s not time to stand up and shout,

51
It’s time to sit down and think.
Bfk
Self Evident
52
This truth is self evident,
Yet smudged by greed:
Political office cannot be purchased,
It must be earned.
Yet worn out and trampled by a stampede to what is popular and safe:
Leadership cannot be advertised,
It must be proven.
Yet drowned out by static:
Mere slogans cannot validate an election,
Informed, intellectual debate is the soil in which democracy flourishes.
Yet tossed about on the stormy seas of cultural charisma:
Bold proposals which are not anchored to our cherished values,
Will blow away on the changing political winds.
If one is to succeed,
Their plans must be firmly rooted in our beloved principles and traditions.

Yet trapped in a cage made of straw polls:

53
If our leaders cannot see past winning or losing,
The citizenry will fold.
Desperate times call for great minds and wide vision.
But is aimlessly wandering the aisles of commercialism:
If our leaders continue to be nothing more than complaint boxes, salesmen, and vending machines,
There will be no one left to steer our country in the right direction.
But has broken wings:
If ordinary men take extraordinary steps along a judicious course,
Our country’s hope will not falter.
Bfk
Earthquake
54
As the earth shook,
My own vanity I forsook.
You control the earth, the sea, the sky,
My own importance,
Nothing more than a grandiose lie.
Surrounded by trivial fears and petty schemes,
For a few moments,
You shook up my self-centered daydreams.
You knocked them down like a child’s blocks,
And I briefly felt eternity between the ticking of the clock.
I thought I was the king of the chessboard,
But at that moment I understood,
Who sculpted the pieces and supplied the wood.
How very sad, yet how very true,
That You had to shake the earth,
To get me to pay attention to You.
Bfk
Collect Call
55
“Would you accept a collect call from your past?”
I had to think of an answer and think of it fast.
“As I seem to recollect,”
I began,
(While at my door memories impatiently pecked),
“The past is where it ought to be,
For my peace of mind,
I left it behind.
If it were in front of me,
I would just stumble forward blindly.”
“Don’t you want to know what’s become of all your old chums?”
Ah – now the sales pitch had begun!
My old classmates,
How the speculation percolates!
“Perhaps it’s better if I remain unaware of their fates.”
“One last chance, are you sure?”
“Well, the past does have some allure,
But I want to keep my eyes on the days ahead,
That’s the only thing that gets me out of bed.”
Bfk
Pacing
56
Thoughts pacing,
Heart tracing,
Lines in Tomorrow’s sand,
All of this was too carefully planned,
Now it slips away just when I’m a step closer to Before,
All I can do is wait upon the shore.
Mind stalking,
Dreams gawking,
At a thousand fading funhouse mirrors,
My hindsight gets clearer as I draw nearer.
Logic hunting,
Restraint grunting,
Chafing at the chains,
Heated, salivating refrains,
Melting all the other brains.
Hunger of the soul,
Can’t be controlled.
The longer it’s delayed,
The more it grows.

Delirious, delusional thirst,

57
With impatience the spirit is cursed.
Bfk
Uncertainty
58
Uncertain passions come to uncertain ends,
Which is exactly what Indecisiveness recommends.
Wearing your fleeting, flimsy, flip-flop smile,
As your lukewarm longings are put on trial,
You don’t even have the courage to utter an affirmation or a denial.
Wondering, wondering what to do,
Traveling along a corkscrew,
Passing by opportunities you never knew.
Carefully avoiding both “yes” and “no”
Has left you stunted,
With no chance to grow.
For if you were to take a chance and speak your mind,
You’re afraid you won’t be able to throw away what you find.
But uncertainty is its own reward,
A blunt, double-edged, Play-Doh sword.
Spurned now by foes and friends,
This circular, half-hearted journey never ends. Bfk

Promotion II
59
Sure you could rise through the ranks,
Like a dead fish floating to the top of the tank.
You could trample others while you’re laughing all the way to the bank.
As for me,
I think I’ll stay where I am,
Cause sometimes you work really hard,
Just to get yourself in a jam.
If I have to get ahead by being unkind,
I’d rather be left behind.
So maybe I won’t make an extra buck,
I guess I’ll just be out of luck.
But maybe if I go the extra mile,
I’ll get an extra smile.
For there’s more to a career than money and power,
You’d be surprised how quickly that dough turns sour.
For so long it’s been ignored,
But I just don’t believe in a system,
In which bullying gets a reward. Bfk

My Shy Friend
60
Graceful paws upon the green grass,
My shy friend,
We meet at last.
In your eyes,
A kinship fire,
Our hopes – our drives,
Rooted in the same primal desire.
Your power and nobility I see and feel,
But like a thief,
A moment of your beauty I will steal.
Our friendship is long but may not last,
Humiliated, you slink away,
Defeated by the bulldozers and chainsaws that have trespassed.
Will we meet another day?
I hope my dream will once again come true.
But by then you may be confined to a zoo.
As you disappear – so do I,
As the ancient spark fades from my eye. Bfk

Doll
61
So soft and sexy-smooth,
I can see we’re in an infinite groove,
I kiss you to seal the deal,
But tell me,
Are you real?
My loneliness has driven me to do something drastic,
But I just push all that away as I caress your – plastic.
You’re so innocent and look so neat,
The only thing missing is body heat.
My defenses you’re starting to peel,
But tell me,
Are you real?
I feel so safe, confident, and secure,
I can’t resist your silent lure.
How much more can I endure?
You never make a fuss,
And you don’t interrupt – which is really a plus.
Even though your eyes don’t move,
I can see that I don’t have anything to prove.

62
My senses are starting to reel,
But tell me,
Are you real?
I have to carry you when we go out for a walk,
And I actually like the fact that you can’t talk.
For only $5,000.00 you were a real steal,
But tell me,
Are you real?
My beautiful little doll,
My naughty little mannequin,
Let’s get back to the bedroom so we can continue our shenanigans.
I have the woman of my dreams; I know it’s true,
I’m just waiting to hear “I love you”.
Bfk
Taboo
63
Taboo – forbidden,
Revealing those scars that have been hidden.
Taboo – unauthorized,
Touching the wounds that callousness has cauterized.
Taboo – sequestered,
Unwilling to throw out all those pains that have festered.
Taboo – look away,
An awkwardness that should never see the light of day.
Taboo – hunted,
Dreams that from normalcy have been shunted.
Taboo – buried,
To Isolation he is married.
Taboo – silence,
Tears beyond the reach of modern day science.
Taboo – not on speaking terms with normality,
His ordinary life is just a formality.

64
Taboo,
Shameful clue,
Puzzling me,
Alienating you.
Bfk
Summer Days
65
It’s one of those steamy, stagnant days,
Where the heat stews your malaise,
Leaving you feeling stupendously stupid,
As your stream of consciousness turns turbid.
As mother nature sautés your brain in humidity,
Too relaxed to even care about your stupidity,
Thinking about all the stuff you ought to do makes you dizzy,
And your plans go from fuzzy to frizzy.
That “To-Do” list,
Crumpled up in an apathetic fist,
Thrown over your shoulder,
This isn’t the time to worry about being one day older.
Yes, it’s summer,
You aren’t going to move your bum,
But that’s not a bummer.
So as your good intentions stick to the bottom of your shoe,
Like some sticky, tacky, tasteless goo,
Thank goodness there’s nothing important to do.

It’s time to relax,

66
To take motionless to the max,
It’s the one thing Uncle Sam hasn’t figured out how to tax.
Bfk
The Dusk Syndicate

67
Here I stand trapped in a curtain of dusky silk,
Listening to the whispers of malcontented ilk,
Rejecting gifts before they bilk.
For all those sweet gifts have strings attached,
Tied to nefarious plots others have hatched.
Accept one too many and your freedom gets snatched.
You’ll soon get sick of their cruel, twisted morality play,
As you drown in a thousand shades of gray.
For they know who you are and where you live,
How much you want it and what you’ll give,
Turn away now if you want to live.
Bfk
Winning and Losing

68
If you can’t win,
At least don’t lose your integrity.
If you don’t finish in first place,
Don’t be the last to laugh.
If you don’t hear the applause,
Don’t put another’s faults in the spotlight.
If you never see the checkered flag,
Don’t waive around somebody else’s checkered past.
If you can’t be the victor,
At least don’t be the victim.
If you can’t beat’em,
Don’t beat yourself up over it.
You might not be the gold medal winner,
But if you keep your grace under pressure,
You might become a diamond in the rough.
If you think winning is everything,

You’ve lost sight of the bigger picture.

69
Bfk
Invisible Foe
70
I’m fighting an invisible foe,
Something I cannot see is beating up my ego,
My oh my – I really do put on a show.
I am ready to call a truce,
But at the slightest breeze,
I put up my dukes,
Some insane illusion is starting to squeeze,
And any sense of peace is a flimsy fluke.
At the first sign of tranquility,
I lose my sensibility,
My paranoia is the only thing with any reliability,
And my assumptions swell into absurdity.
If I would only realize,
Instead of agonize,
I could apologize.
One day I’ll laugh at myself,
When I put my pride on the shelf,
But till then I’ll punch the air,
And strike out at something that’s not really there.

71
But the greatest tragedy,
Is the one thing I cannot see,
But everyone else knows what’s become of me.
I’m my own worst enemy.
Bfk
Understood
72
If I can’t be understood,
I’d rather be forgotten,
Nothing is more awkward than affections misbegotten.
I’d rather be alone,
Than stuck in the middle of someone else’s discomfort zone.
I’d rather suffer through the ugly, nitty-gritty,
Than be an object of your pity.
If my words have absolutely no clout,
If my presence makes you pout,
You can count me out.
If you have to fake it,
I don’t want to take it.
If there’s no empathy,
Perhaps you shouldn’t keep me company.
How can I trust your intentions,
If you’re not really paying attention?
Bfk
The Past
73
As the heartbeat of that old flame grows fainter,
My memory tries to capture the past like an arthritic painter.
I turn my back on those days so unkind,
And leave the fading photos behind.
Like a revolving door,
I kept moving forward to escape my past,
Turning round once more,
I kept accelerating but got nowhere fast.
Those memories were like melting ice cream:
They weren’t sturdy or sublime,
In the harsh daylight they got smaller all the time.
So I had to accept what was done was done,
And what was fun was fun.
Now that I realize that I’m on the wrong escalator,
There’s no need to hunt an evil traitor.
So instead of finding blame,
I discovered a way to win the game.

I don’t have to stick it out; I don’t have to yield,

74
I simply walk off the field.
It may be sad to see cherished dreams of a love buried,
But it’s better than being unhappily married.
Bfk
Mistake
75
So you’ve made a mistake – a little boo-boo,
Don’t blame it on the alignment of the stars,
Or vengeful voodoo.
Let me put it simply without being too verbose,
Only two kinds of folks never make mistakes,
The dead and the comatose.
So you made an error,
And committed a foul,
Better to fix it with a smile,
Than to walk away with a scowl.
Are you going to sit there and fight,
Or make it right?
Sooner or later you’ll have to swallow this bitter pill:
The stupid can learn,
But the stubborn never will.
Bfk
Girl by the Shore

76
I met a girl,
Who was from somewhere I had never been before,
She told me that Tomorrow was simply the distant shore.
She said Today was the incoming wave,
Bringing back everything we forgave.
The Past was a footprint that the sea washes away,
Something we leave behind,
As we search for peace of mind,
Something that can never stay.
She ran ahead and beckoned me to follow,
She wanted to see which one of us would catch the morrow.
In her hand the simple joy which God lets us borrow.
When the day’s passion fades to soft embers,
And the chores and griefs no one remembers,
The joy we’ll return,
So another fortunate one,
Can capture it beneath the sun,
And yearn, yearn, yearn.
Bfk
Broken Nation
77
Just one little desperate prayer,
For this broken nation,
As we brace ourselves for the next big scare,
While forgiveness and mercy undergo evaporation.
What’s right and what’s wrong?
Do we get tough or just go along?
The well of kindness has run dry,
We need an army of lawyers just to get by.
So many people are filled with dread,
They’re convinced there’s a boogeyman under every bed,
Would they be shocked if they discovered it was all in their head?
Around every corner waits a pervert or crook,
One look at the cover and we’re ready to burn the book,
We’d be surprised,
If we read between the lines,
But first we’d need the courage to take a closer look.
How to fix the problem we’re not really sure,
Some people would sell their souls just to feel secure.

78
But how can there be healing,
When fear is all we’re feeling?
Bfk
The Politics of Fear (Part I of “Fear”)

79
The politics of fear,
The times were never so unclear,
We’re using our prejudice to steer.
When you’re living in a state of alarm,
Logic is the first thing you disarm,
We’re on a blind date with our own error,
All due to the politics of terror.
Some politicians love to jump out from behind the headlines and yell “Boo!”
You see, there’s nothing else they can really do.
When politicians hold on to power,
By making the voters cower,
Then offer a gimmick to save the day,
Then they have truly led us astray.
To those who love to judge:
Soon your stereotypes won’t budge,
Your opinions will block the way,
And childish antics won’t save the day.
For those who eagerly play upon our darker side,

Will one day see humanity’s baser instincts turn the tide,
80
Then they will be the ones who run and hide.
Bfk
Edgy
81
I used to be edgy,
But my edges have been crumpled by reality,
They have buckled under a bureaucratic mentality.
Our heroes are flabby and out of shape,
But they look oh so spiffy in their flowing capes,
Which have been conveniently woven out of red tape.
Our heroes would gladly sock the bad guys in the jaw,
But alas!
Hitting people is against the law.
The only thing worse than kryptonite,
Is a citizenry that has lost the will to fight.
So time will tell,
And time will fly,
As I ponder which values I should sell,
And which expectations I should kiss goodbye.
Bfk
Beyond Your Door

82
Look beyond what you want,
Look beyond what you believe,
Look beyond what you expect.
For your wants take you only as far as you want to go,
And your beliefs can hem you in like blinding snow,
And expectations never lead you beyond what you know.
Reach for the unknown,
Don’t choke on the seeds that haven’t been sown,
Enjoy the uncertainty between your toes,
Keep re-imagining till you wear out your woes.
For by touching the ordinary,
You’ll never find the door out of the senseless sanctuary,
If you chose only safety for your fingers,
Beware!
Restlessness Lingers.
Listen for the ignored voice,
It can sing of a brave choice,
Words that others chose to ignore,
Can be something that you can explore.

83
For simply following popular opinion,
Turns trends into tyrants,
And you into the minion.
You see, we all have a life that needs living,
And the world out there is challenging –not giving.
We all want an existence of note,
So put on your hat and coat,
Now I can say no more,
For it’s time for you to go out the door.
Bfk
The Journey So Far

84
When curiosity’s push,
Came to reality’s shove,
I discovered that I had the wings of a dove,
I broke the chain that held me fast,
For I knew that the fantasy could not last.
Carving my way through stormy skies,
And enjoying the sun’s warmth on my wings,
Learning from the lows and highs,
And savoring the wisdom life brings.
It’s been a long flight,
A true roller coaster ride,
Soaring through the landscape of my soul,
I never knew I had so much inside!
From bad memories deflected,
To dealing with the unexpected,
The journey has been pretty amazing,
The true wonder and mystery I’m simply grazing.
With God’s grace I’m still flying,
Am I improving? Well I’m trying.

Where I’ll end up I’m not really sure,

85
Maybe that’s part of life’s allure.
Bfk
Don’t Label Me
86
Don’t label me please,
Labels aren’t harmless,
They’re worse than the disease.
Don’t call me stupid or dumb,
Too much name calling makes my heart numb.
So please – don’t label,
Refrain from judgment if you are able.
And stop spreading rumors,
They rot reputations like tumors.
Whispering while I’m not there,
Just ferments the whole foul affair.
No matter what term you use,
Labels are labels,
And people aren’t fools.
Whether someone is called disabled or handicapped,
It still feels like being slapped.
It may come out of the latest medical dictionary,
But it’s all the same sickly sweet bitter confectionary.

We’re inventing nice new words all the time,

87
But we’re just fooling ourselves,
We’re people – not boxes on grocery shelves.
But don’t call me smart or clever,
For we all know flattery is an emotional lever.
Don’t call me trendy or hip,
For what would you think of me,
If I suddenly slip?
Don’t think of me as good or bad,
Don’t think of me as black, white, red, yellow, brown – or even plaid.
Don’t measure me in pounds or inches,
My soul is boundless,
And your measuring tape really pinches!
So still your tongue,
And put that sword back in its sheath,
It’s not your words that cut me,
It’s the attitude underneath.
If you really must label me,
What should we do then?

The best way to avoid duplicity,

88
Is to simply label me “Ben”.
Thank you,
Benjamin F. Kaye
My Four Footed Brother

89
We used to be closer than we are now,
We used to run side by side,
Now most of us are nothing more than contended cows,
Who’ve traded freedom for an easy ride.
How did we go from cool autumn air and waterfalls,
To large screen TVs surrounded by concrete walls?
We’re safe in our homes with our alarms and locks,
Not realizing that we’re trapped in a tiny X-Box.
We used to hunt – we used to live!

But now our instincts our blunt – we’ve nothing left to give.
90
On the ridge we used to crouch,
Now we spend hours on the couch.
Oh, we have our athletes,
Wearing their pads and fancy cleats,
For glory or greed they strive,
But it’s not the same as the race to stay alive.
Too many treats and toys have dulled our senses,
We’ve caged ourselves with borders and fences.
So now my four footed brother – I understand,
Why you will have nothing to do with the madness of man.
Bfk
(Photo by Benjamin F. Kaye: Rosamond Gifford Zoo, Syracuse, NY October 9th, 2010)
You Matter
91
I wanted to let you know,
Right here – today,
Before you go,
Before I slipped away.
You matter to God and man,
It doesn’t seem that way right now,
Please don’t try to understand,
But there will be applause when you take your final bow.
So many “friends” out there,
Their touch nothing more than thin air,
It’s like being in a crowded room,
Where incognito false hope looms.
But holding onto hope,
Is sometimes like strangling slippery soap,
But hold on you must,
For the last thing you should lose is trust.
But yes, you matter,
Despite all the world’s loneliness and cynicism,
Your soul won’t shatter.

92
Yes, your life has meaning,
Yes, your dreams are worth dreaming,
In a world where millions of heroes-to-be are teeming.
Bfk
The Lunatic Tick-Tock Clown

93
Let me tell you about a fellow who’s been seen all over town,
A curious eccentric chap known as the lunatic tick-tock clown.
He’s got sirens for ears,
And chainsaws for hands,
His traffic light eyes spill neon tears,
And his teeth are only rubber bands.
He gallops down the street,
With his lawn mower feet,
Not looking where he goes,
He bumps into things with his monkey wrench nose.
His hair is nothing more than magnetic coils,
In his off key piano heart his lunacy boils.
He dances with his own delusion,
In love with his own confusion,
Which itself is only an illusion.
He dines on abandoned cogs and gears,
A feast punctuated with snickers and sneers.

A warning to the foolish and the wise,

94
This clever clown often changes his guise.
Bfk
Looking Back
95
So you’ve made a lot of money,
But you haven’t made a lot of friends,
Did the means justify the ends?
Yup – you had a fall from grace,
And now you’re on your way to a lonely place,
Did you sell your soul to save face?
We all know that pride goes before a fall,
Power-money-principles- We still think we can have it all,
We just have to ignore Compassion’s call.
When they lay you in your grave,
Will they remember you as nothing more than Ambition’s slave?
Or will you be someone whom time forgave?
Bfk
Election Time
96
The negative campaigns have taken their toll,
It seems our leaders aren’t governing by their wits,
But simply by the polls.
They’re promising to lower our taxes and bring back our jobs,
They would promise us anything,
Even red, white, and blue corn on the cob.
Yes – they’re promising full larders and tills,
But can they fix the country’s ills?
There’s a big difference between promising and doing,
Between sound legislation,
And TV ads that are simply “Boo-Hoo”ing.
Election after election,
It’s the same old song,
But have the candidates taken a good, hard look?
Do they even know what’s wrong?
The shallow campaigning is beginning to grate,
Let’s hope someone addresses the problems before it’s too late.
For no amount of televised brainwashing can erase the fact,

That it’s time to stop name calling and time to act.

97
You may be resolutely opposed to what I wrote,
But I believe my pen will slay more dragons than my vote.
Bfk
The Poor
98
What about the poor?
What about those who don’t have enough,
The unkempt, the unruly, the gruff?
It seems that we’ve swept them under the rug,
Their graves have already been dug.
Poverty is a score we’ll never be able to settle,
It won’t go away by simply putting our spare change in a kettle.
No, the poor won’t go away,
They’re here to stay.
One day they will no longer keep quiet,
But they need another choice,
Besides simply dying or staging a riot.
They need a chance to make it on their own,
But so many hearts out there are colder than a dead stone.
For too many of us,
Scarcity is nothing more than a whimsical rarity.
If we won’t give,
How will they live?

One day we won’t be able to ignore their cries,

99
And we’ll have to look them in the eyes.
Bfk
Fear (Part II of “Fear”)

100
Fear can be a cruel vice,
That turns the biggest of men,
Into the smallest of mice.
It usually begins in childhood,
Some parents use it “for our own good.”
As adults we may think it’s in remission,
Until it unexpectedly forces us into submission.
And then it can knock us off track,
If our dose becomes too great we attack.
It keeps us running around the same old track,
If we could only give it back.
No, fear isn’t nice,
But for some it’s their favorite device.
It may prevent insubordination and spats,
But will that be any consolation,
When loved ones desert your sinking ship like frightened rats?
No it’s never right,
To trap children in the maze of fright.

It’s the only thing chaining you here,

101
Fear.
It keeps others from coming near,
Fear.
It leaves life unsettled and unclear,
Fear.
Your life is out of your hands because you’re letting it steer,
Fear.
Bfk
Defeated
102
I surrender.
I open the doors to my fortress of pride,
I was the only one hiding inside.
I accept my feelings,
Even though they send me reeling,
I accept my condition,
I kneel in submission.
I accept the fact that I can’t escape,
The contest was over before it had begun,
Arrogance had lost – humility had won.
I’ve been defeated,
But I don’t think I’ve been cheated.
In the silence of the battlefield,
The only choice I had was to yield.
What comes next – I don’t know,
But I’m confident that God tends my soul,
So today,
I will simply hope, wait, and pray.
Bfk
Prejudice
103
Prejudice is never easy,
Despite the smiles and sweet talk,
It always makes me feel queasy.
When prejudice is all that’s known,
And the seeds of Understanding are never sown,
Then a shallow soul is all we own.
Such a curse – how can we break free?
Sit down and talk with me.
If you really knew the truth,
Would you really want an eye for an eye,
A tooth for a tooth?
If you had vision beyond what you see,
Would you still shy away from me?
If you had wisdom beyond what you hear,
Would you have the courage to draw near?
If your life wasn’t guided by hearsay,
Would you still run away?

104
If you could replace animosity,
With curiosity,
Would you still think I’m such a monstrosity?
But the choice is yours,
Between opening your heart,
Or closing its doors.
Bfk
No More Tangos
105
Today can be a good day,
If you don’t let your pain get in the way.
You can have happiness,
You can dance on the walls of your fortress.
You can rise above it all,
If you just ignore self-pity’s siren call.
Stop doing that barefoot tango with your doubt,
On a floor littered with broken glass,
Don’t look within – look without,
Let the past be the past.
Why not leave the misery behind?
Take a step forward,
You’ll be surprised at what you find.
Bfk
My Sweet Little Sparrow

106
My sweet little sparrow,
Where will you be come the morrow?
You flit from place to place – not daring to linger,
Ah! So bittersweet to see your bare finger.
The world is so big and wide,
So many people down below – while overhead you glide.
With only today’s joys by your side,
Adventure and excitement is your guide.
Another journey to another place,
Happily chatting with another face.
But why will you not settle down,
Could it be your prison is a wedding gown?
Did you suffer some kind of shock?
Is that why you dart in and out of the flock?
No matter how far and wide you roam,
Even you will one day have to come home.
Bfk
Just Passing Through

107
We’re just passing through,
Not intending to stay,
We don’t mean to be cruel,
But we have nothing to give away.
We’re just here on a short vacation,
It’s so nice to meet you,
We don’t really know much about your nation,
Or what you’ve been through.
We don’t know how you live,
We don’t know how you die,
We don’t know who you have to forgive,
Is our politeness coming across as a lie?
It may be a few years,
Or a few short days,
We’ll have to leave you alone with your fears,
We just can’t extend our stay.
We look at the tragedy and cry,
But when the bullets fly,
Then it’s time to say goodbye.

108
We’ve had a great time,
We hate to cut this short,
It’s been so surreal and sublime,
But it’s time to head for the airport.
Don’t take it so hard,
We do the same in our own run down backyard.
So as our plane soars overhead,
Next time we’ll send our money instead.
Bfk
Isolated
109
The disconnected voice on the cell phone,
Just isn’t the same as you being home.
For all the glamour and hype,
Attached to Face Book and Skype,
Your presence is merely electrical,
Not biological.
Oh! Ourselves we have deceived,
With all the witty contraptions we have conceived,
Isolated in cyberspace,
Our loneliness is one thing we can’t erase.
A community of disconnected souls,
Nothing solid to embrace – no hand to hold.
Nothing more than a computer essence,
What I miss is a genuine human presence.
Although our best intentions and love fly through the air,
It’s just not the same as being there.
For despite all the virtual hugs and smiles,

We can’t ignore that we’re separated by many miles.

110
At night the lonely wind whispers through the trees,
All we have to touch are computer keys.
In this World Wide Web we’re stuck without a doubt,
Gut wrenching fear sets in when the power goes out.
We need to have the courage to build relationships that are concrete,
Ones that won’t go away when we hit “delete”.
But only when the pain overwhelms us so much,
Will we take the risk – and reach out and touch.
Bfk
Dance among the Bullets

111
Why must you dance among the bullets?
Why do you wade in despite the warnings?
I don’t want to see you bouncing happily amid the bombs.
How can you laugh among the landmines?
Dancing among the bullets doesn’t make sense to me.
Is there something I just can’t see?
Are you determined to live your life,
In places of conflict and strife?
Or are you blind,
Perhaps you cannot believe,
That when you’re gone those left behind,
Would forever grieve.
What drives you to take such risks?
Do you really want to be serenaded by a calliope of carnage?
No dancing among the bullets doesn’t make sense to me.
So while for adventure abroad you yearn,

I will pray for your safe return.

112
Bfk
Innocence Returning
113
I can feel the innocence returning,
That naïve yearning,
That youthful, vulnerable burning.
A certain glance,
An unexpected circumstance,
And my heart is unfolding,
Its unspoiled hope I’m holding.
I had forgotten how to blush,
But it came back to me,
All in a lingering, gentle hush.
I thought I had left these feelings far behind,
That the matter had been settled in my mind.
But here I am,
Innocent, unsure, and afraid,
The hopes, dreams, and emotions begin to cascade.
I’ve lost before,
And I’m sure I’ll lose once more,
But the answer came from above,

Innocence can only return when you fall in love.

114
Bfk
Foundation of Vanity
115
You’re warming yourself by my passionate fire,
Your self esteem floating on the tide of my desire.
Oh! The insanity,
Of having a relationship whose foundation is vanity.
If in chains of love we are to be bound,
We should at least be standing on common ground.
Otherwise the years and storms will weather the love we share,
The love which is now beyond compare.
In its place will be a gray, dried husk,
Devoid of the juicy, youthful musk.
Such passion can also die a quick death,
Brought about by the slightest deceitful breath.
Today – oh how we yearn!
But who knows all of life’s twists and turns?
A lingering frustration,
Could easily sour this infatuation.
Let us work on a foundation of deep understanding,
To ensure a love that is not fickle or commanding.

If we open ourselves to communication,

116
Something beautiful may flower from the seeds of temptation.
Bfk
Marriage II
117
Marriage isn’t handed to you on a silver platter,
Far from being constant bliss – it’s a whole different matter.
The hand of your beloved can be won or lost,
You simply have to realize the price and pay the cost.
Can you gently reach out,
As you’re drowning in your own doubt?
Or will you hide away,
Simply because you’re having a bad day?
Will you retreat,
When you suffer your first defeat?
Will you raise the white flag,
When your spouse begins to nag?
Will you hold on to your love and devotion,
Throughout all the unhappy commotion?
Unfortunately it is very true,
Loving another can be the hardest thing you can do.
But if you’re willing to fight and to wait,
You’ll be holding hands at Heaven’s Gate.

All those years of enduring,

118
Will produce a love most alluring.
When you look into their eyes,
You’ll realize the value of your prize.
You’ll be able to speak from your soul,
Now that you’ve reached your common goal.
“No matter what we went through,
I never stopped loving you.”
Bfk
Gentle Spirit
119
Gentle spirit,
So quiet,
You have to strain to hear it.
Her eyes are a safe place to hide,
Life with her is a slow journey,
Not a wild roller coaster ride.
Her demeanor soft but sure,
Her calm voice is her strongest allure.
Her life a subtle passion play,
Not a soap-opera-adventure,
Her tact and discretion grow day by day,
There is no razor sharp tongue to censure.
Her heart is a welcome sanctuary,
Her soul a tall aviary,
Miraculously untouched by the chaos below,
And out of reach of the seeds that vicious gossips sow.
When she sees pain,
She’ll slowly reach out and gently probe,

Her relationship skills go far beyond her wardrobe.

120
So much wisdom and compassion,
Underneath that lovely skin she’s definitely not hollow,
She sets an example for everyone to follow.
If you are fortunate enough to hear her faint siren song,
Think on it hard,
And remember it long.
For as the world grows louder and crazier,
The boundary between civility and barbarism grows hazier.
As we slide from love to hate,
We’ll realize that we need her,
But then it might be too late.
Bfk
The Last Dragon

121
When the last dragon breathes its last breath,
And chivalry succumbs to death,
Honor and fidelity will march off into the sunset – sinking in the west,
What will we have left?
When the last spark of magic disappears,
And the sirens, horns, and alarms wage war on our ears,
We’ll be beset by modern fears,
But the security cameras won’t notice our tears.
Our homes will be bright,
Lit by incandescent lights,
We’ll fool ourselves into thinking we’ve beaten back the cold nights,
Sit back and take in the televised sights.
During the day we’ll multi-task,
We’ll never stop and ask,
“Why am I wearing this professional-impersonal mask?”
We’ll forge onward towards our shallow goals,
Not realizing we’re helplessly separated in different fishbowls,
We’ll be the best of friends - who are out of touch,
Sharing so much trivia - but missing out on so much.

122
One day we’ll look to the skies,
And wonder why the dragon no longer flies,
And why we can’t hear naiveté’s plaintive cries,
As our innocence slowly dies.
Bfk
Wall of Thorns
123
You may think I look sad and forlorn,
But I ask you,
How long should I throw myself up against your wall of thorns?
Your gate is locked and I don’t have the key,
What’s going on behind that polite face is a mystery to me.
The conversation may be sweet and nice,
And I can see something through this sheet of ice,
But why should I try twice?
Oh, I know what they tell us men,
“Try, try again.”
But what a sickening, slippery ruse,
How to wear my heart on my sleeve while I pursue.
Are you playing hard to get or hard to trust?
Why can’t this be a slow, sweet dance,
Instead of parry and thrust?
They say nice guys always finish last,
But I don’t want to run the race with all the other rats,
For flesh alone is a cheap prize,

What I really need is a pair of loving eyes.

124
Bfk
A Riddle
125
What I do in public,
My closest friends don’t seem to notice.
I live my life right in front of their eyes,
Yet they don’t understand the look on my face.
My response is natural given my circumstances,
Yet people think I am foolish.
I open my mouth,
Yet no words come back to me.
What is this?
Bfk
Summer is Gone
126
Summer is gone,
Winter has come.
Do we curse the cold,
And regret getting old,
Do we look back on the dreams we’ve sold,
And wish we had been bold?
Is this simply the changing of the seasons,
Or is it some kind of mercurial treason?
Or do we accept the changes,
Realizing that sometimes life rearranges.
Summer is gone – that may be true,
But here’s a season that’s brand new.
Bfk
Please Give
127
Poverty is a short leash,
Desperation is an uncomfortable collar,
The middle class hangs their Christmas wreath,
While complaining about their tax dollar.
Please give,
Please share,
If you don’t have the time or money,
Offer a kind word and a prayer.
Lined up to receive charity,
Like a parade of shame,
Their situation comes through with all clarity,
They’re sick of playing this stupid game.
Shivering in the cold Christmas air,
Good folks slowing down just to stare.
Some will never realize the misery,
They’ll complain about the lazy bums,
While decorating their Christmas tree.
I’m sure you’ll find something to give,
If you search your heart,

It might not be much,

128
But at least it’s a start.
Bfk
For Douglas
129
Your wish came on a little blue card,
You wanted a blanket,
That wasn’t so hard.
Now we had never met,
We wouldn’t recognize each other on the street I’d bet.
So you got your blanket,
But there was something else I was hoping you’d receive,
The power of hope – the power to believe.
I wanted you to know,
That sometimes people did hear God’s call,
Apathy and greed hadn’t swallowed us all.
That you weren’t alone under those Holiday lights,
Someone was with you – Jesus Christ.
So as the snow danced in the festive luminescence,
I hope you were surrounded by true Christmas Presence.
I don’t know where you are going,
Or what you’ve been through,
But Douglas,
Merry Christmas,
130
Merry Christmas to you!
Bfk
Merry Christmas Maureen

131
Merry Christmas Maureen,
Things aren’t always as they seem,
Christmas magic isn’t a silly dream.
Wipe away the grimy sadness of your life,
And you’ll find underneath,
There’s still joy even amidst the strife,
And hope in something as small as a festive wreath.
Let me take this moment to ask God to bless you,
May He provide safety, warmth, and happiness to your family too.
May The Lord open your eyes,
And open your heart,
May He give you the courage to let go,
And the courage to start.
May Emmanuel give you the passion to discover,
That mysterious country called “another”,
May He give you many happy years with your father and mother.
So as you look upon that Bethlehem Star,
I hope you are at peace with who you are.
Bfk
Is This the Year?

132
Is this the year?
I always ask myself that,
As Christmas draws near.
I’d believed in Christmas magic for so long,
It always re-awakens when I hear Christmas songs.
I sometimes wonder if we’ve got Christmas all turned around,
Maybe that’s why so little cheer and warmth are found,
And why so many broken souls recoil at Christmas sounds.
Is Christmas supposed to cure what ails us?
Is it supposed to make up for all the people who fail us?
Perhaps this sugar plumb delusion,
Is the source of all the confusion.
Somehow we’re supposed to get that job,
And finally be rid of that lazy slob,
Good luck is supposed to rain down on us from above,
And some of us even have the audacity to hope for – Love!
All these false promises can be a lot to carry,
And they always seem to blow away,
In the harsh winds of January.

133
No Christmas magic,
No Santa Claus,
Acceptable, but tragic,
Yet I stop and pause.
Perhaps this won’t be the year,
I think I can handle that,
Even as I brush away a tear.
And even if the future is unclear,
And the past has left a scar,
There’s peace instead of fear,
As I look up at that Bethlehem Star.
A fresh start,
Another chance,
God has given me an important part,
And He’s with me in every circumstance.
Forgiven for my sins – that’s quite a lot,
Pondering all this I can be content with what I’ve got,
Hope – And Christmas – dies not.
Bfk
Nice
134
“Nice”
That polite wall of ice.
“Kind”
That fog that clouds the mind.
“Friends”
Guaranteeing only uncertain ends.
Give me honesty,
In all its blistering ferocity.
I’d rather have the ugly truth,
Instead of this insincere hollow dance,
That slowly floats me along and saps my youth.
The only thing worse than your harsh opinion,
Is to trap me in this lonely painless lukewarm dominion.
While peace and popularity are nice goals,
Our relationship will remain stale until we bare our souls.
Bfk
Cut From a Different Cloth

135
Cut from a different cloth,
Devoured by the same moth.
I thought we were made from the same mold,
That’s what made me so bold.
But the only thing that makes us compatible,
Is what makes us fallible.
In weakness united,
Blinded by love,
Our dreams our short sighted,
Our insecurities go hand in glove.
Down the aisle we go,
How long this will last,
Only our fickle hearts know.
Bfk
Unattached
136
Unattached
To the land,
To the lives,
To another’s hand,
To ambition or lies.
Why do I stay?
Why am I afraid to roam?
Am I really trapped by malaise?
Am I too scared to admit this isn’t my home?
Free to go,
But not ready to leave,
No wild oats to sow,
Nothing left to grieve.
Unattached
To the drama,
To the politics,
No need for a cry-o-rama,
Or glitzy tricks.
Free to remain,
To never change,
137
To always be the same.
So why do I keep looking at the sky?
Wishing I could find my wings and fly?
Here I am dangling at the end of my rope,
Am I rooted in false hope?
Unattached
To your desires,
To my demands,
Even the useless inspires,
Yearning to find the foreign in familiar lands.
Challenged by the open road,
I ought to open my heart,
And drop my heavy load.
Bfk
Prayer Has a Time

138
Prayer has a time,
And Worship has a place,
But words sometimes fail,
And tears streak our face.
Sometimes we don’t have the chance,
To fold our hands and kneel,
But all we need is a quick upward glance,
And the courage to feel.
Sometimes we focus so much on devotion,
That we forget our emotions.
We go to and from our churches like windup toys,
Instead of uttering prayers we simply make a repetitious noise.
But what happens when the church hymns fade in the dark night?
When all the positive thinking doesn’t set our hearts right?
What happens when our hearts are held hostage by shock?
When every avenue of hope is blocked?
Even though we cannot see Him,
He is there – He is there.
Even though we cannot touch Him,

139
He reaches out – no need for prayers.
Bfk
Blind Man
140
I gave the blind man the keys to the car,
He went very fast,
He went very far.
But he didn’t know where he had been,
Or where he was headed,
he couldn’t tell you what he had seen,
or if the car ran on regular or unleaded.
He wasn’t sure if he should turn left or right,
He just kept on driving day and night.
Whenever he heard a thump,
He wasn’t sure if it was a person or a speed bump.
He wasn’t sure if he should turn around or keep going,
He just stepped on the gas – hoping – not knowing.
After one too many accidents,
He decided to use some common sense.
He gave up on all his planning, scheming, and contriving,
Got into the passenger seat,
And let God do the driving.
Bfk
Whose Life Is It?

141
Whose life is it anyways?
Whose eyes bid farewell to the nights,
Whose eyes greet the days?
Aren’t I free to do as I please?
To roam the deserts bare,
Or sail the stormy seas?
Aren’t I the captain of my soul?
As I was from birth,
Until I grow old?
Whose hands are on the wheel?
Who raises the sail?
Who fashioned the keel,
I take full responsibility – if I succeed or fail.
My life’s caravan,
Goes only as far as I command.
This traveling troupe of my existence,
Continues to perform only by my persistence.
Ultimately,
My life’s direction,
142
Is my discretion,
What I get out of my life,
Simply a matter of my attention.
But as I wander far and near,
Who is it that really steers?
Who provides the compass and the charts,
As I discover new lands and unknown parts?
As for my ship,
In my foolishness I let my words slip.
Who provided the wood for the mast,
Did I create the sun and the shadows it casts?
As for my desert train,
Do they depend upon me for rain?
So again I ask,
Whose life is it?
No matter how long I exist,
This paradox will persist:
I have freedom - how I live the day,
Whether I strike out on my own – or follow God’s way.

No matter what I choose to do or where I stroll,

143
God is ultimately in control.
As I ponder this perplexing preposterous puzzle,
To madness I am driven,
My choices – and my freedom - are God given.
The long march of history,
Will never unravel this mystery.
No matter how much I rebel, chafe, or demand,
My life – the very universe – is framed by God’s Plan.
Bfk
Lady of the Lake

144
Lady of the lake,
My heart you may take,
But I pray that love you may leave,
Here I stand captivated – do as you please.
My soul is in your clutches,
With your smile,
I need no crutches.
Lady of the lake,
Sweet nymph from another time,
You have deftly netted me,
I cannot escape by reason or rhyme.
Bereft of cleverness,
Bereft of wit,
In your charming presence,
I meekly sit.
Bfk
What You See

145
What you see,
I do not,
Ideas – cold-hot,
Untie the mental knot.
Perspectives slide and melt,
What was once reality can no longer be felt.
See beyond the emotions,
Pay attention to your unconscious devotions.
Philosophies flow or freeze,
Words pierce like arrows or float like petals on the breeze.
The chains that bind,
The slippery cage that is the modern mind,
Looking for what you don’t really want to find.
Losing your grip on sanity,
Senseless chaos crushes your vanity,
Your soul baking on the coals of imagined goals,
What I see,
You cannot,
My eyes blind,
146
My best friend is my erratic mind,
What I stumble over,
You will never find.
Am I crazy?
Is your logic hazy?
Are we just being lazy?
Reality pounding our senses,
Crashing through our mental fences,
Till our lives our senseless,
And our hearts are defenseless.
Bfk
The Symbol
147
The faded symbol flutters in the wind,
With each compromise our patriotism they rescind.
There’s so much talk of change and new directions,
Which seems to evaporate after the elections.
Some are tempted to bear arms,
Some cannot bear the recycled rhetoric,
Some bear in mind the history we are so quick to forget,
Most of us bear the burden of bad times.
Has our passion seeped out of the symbol,
Or does it just need a new coat of paint?
Is the symbol still part of us,
Or is it something we ain’t?
Bfk
I Have a Face
148
I have a face,
In today’s impersonal world,
I may seem out of place.
I’m more than just an operator,
Not just a voice on the phone,
I too, have family at home.
I’m a person – not simply a waiter,
Not someone you can ignore and simply tip later.
It’s a human being with whom you’re dealing,
I too, have feelings.
I’m more than just a cashier,
I too, have hopes, dreams, and fears.
Not simply an inconvenience in the store,
My feet also get sore.
Yes, I have a face, a heart, and a soul,
And, yes, being treated like a “thing”,
Oftentimes does sting,
And everyday insensitivity does take its toll.

So next time you’re standing at the checkout,

149
Take some time out,
Smile and say “hi”,
Have some compassion and look that person in the eye.
Bfk
Faith in Action
150
If you only go to church,
It’s like simply showing up at the train station,
Don’t sit there just reading the brochure,
Go on that vacation!
If all you did was finish Catholic School,
And you faithfully studied the Golden Rule,
Then all you’ve done is memorized a road map,
But you haven’t walked the trail,
You haven’t started the journey – so your faith has been curtailed.
If all you do is pray,
And you haven’t lived your faith day by day,
You’ve lived your life on the bench,
Have some courage – get out of your trench!
If you want your faith to carry you beyond the facts,
Simply carry out some faith-inspired acts.
Bfk
Frozen in Time
151
Frozen in time,
Can’t escape the crime.
Trapped in a prison of hurt,
Wearing the past like a shirt.
No forgiveness – unable to accept repentance,
Your silence – a death sentence.
The decades haven’t softened the anger,
Therein lays the danger.
Unable to accept the humanity of others,
You risk becoming a stranger.
If you’d let me,
I could help you remove that thorn,
You could re-grow the trust that was so cruelly shorn.
Time could flow anew,
You could move ahead,
But then you’d have to risk the pain,
Without being sure of the gain.
I hope God opens your heart to His Way,

So you can live hopefully in the present,

152
And escape yesterday.
Bfk
Cheating
153
You’re clinging to your bitterness and pain,
You’re throwing away your umbrella and standing in the rain.
You recycle the hurt,
You grumble and pout,
You walk into the prison and refuse to come out.
You’re cheating yourself,
Throwing away the aces and keeping the deuces,
Thinking you’re a winner when you’re the one who loses.
You’re throwing away the fresh fruit,
And eating the rotten,
Constantly regurgitating what you could’ve forgotten.
I hope you realize one day,
That you’re pointing the gun the wrong way,
Or else it could be over before it can start,
The only thing you’ll hit is your own heart.
Bfk
Power
154
What lessons does power teach?
What do we gain if everything is in our reach?
If we always get our way,
And we always have the final say,
What have we learned at the end of the day?
When we surround ourselves with people who always say yes,
And all our questions our answered – and there is no need to guess,
Does our heart grow or shrink?
Will we simply continue to trample others – or stop and think?
If our own little world is totally under our control,
And we’re always on a roll,
What have we learned?
Do we even look back on all those bridges we’ve burned?
If others dance because we pull the strings,
And human beings are nothing more than playthings,
Do we hear their pleas and cries,
As their life slowly dies?
For the powerful – I’m sure these lines won’t dissuade,

But I have one final warning I have yet to tell,

155
As sure as the sun sets, power always fades,
Welcome to your own personal hell.
Bfk
Swimming Upstream
156
So hard - living your dreams,
When you find yourself swimming upstream,
Only to find that the light at the end of the tunnel is a headlight beam.
So hard to find your place,
When the world just sees you as another pretty face.
Don’t want to be a doll sitting on anyone’s shelf,
Don’t want to simply worship yourself.
Yet the compliments and skin deep attention flows,
But what’s going on deep down inside only you know.
Society demands perfect shoes and hair,
Without flawless makeup you can’t live life with flair.
So hard to find someone who will love you for who you are,
Who will look past the flaws and scars.
What you deserve is someone who genuinely cares,
Someone who really dares,
To live with another human being,
To do more than engage in simple superficial seeing.
So keep swimming upriver,

Dreams pursued are dreams delivered,

157
There’s only one choice when facing an impossible task:
Surrender and ask.
Bfk
Crossroads
158
I’ve been speeding round this ole racetrack,
Always turning the same way,
I’ve stopped looking back.
When what lies ahead,
Looks eerily familiar,
Your future looks dead.
But now I’m at a crossroads,
Things look so different from here,
I don’t know what the future bodes,
Looking around all I see is freedom – not fear.
Adventure seems more important than putting down roots,
I need to walk until I wear out these new boots.
When what lies ahead looks totally strange,
You’ve made a big change.
Never go back,
To that ole racetrack.
Bfk
Springtime
159
In the blossom of my youth,
I lacked the means,
To tell you the truth.
So when springtime came around,
I couldn’t be found.
Even though I tried,
Away from the sunshine I shied.
I would occasionally look out and witness the drunken revelry,
I decided long ago that wasn’t for me.
I never had shining car keys,
Or a fancy high powered job,
But if you would only search my heart please,
You’d discover that I was never a lazy slob.
Yes – if anyone had dared to look,
Under my short exterior,
Maybe I wouldn’t have seemed so inferior.
I sometimes look back and second guess,
How I got into this awkward mid-life mess.

Were there times when I should have used more force?

160
No, I would have ended up in the frosty shattered ruins of divorce.
Should I have been polite and extra nice?
Ahhh….then again I might have become trapped,
In an opera of played out on thin ice.
Should I have played hard to get?
I don’t think so – those folks are easy to forget.
Should I have gone for the money and the power?
But then again,
Would I still have a wife in my most desperate hour?
No use in pining over missed opportunities,
Or trying to unravel my romantic lunacies.
Springtime always comes again,
Next time maybe I’ll take a stroll,
Among the shady trees and grassy fens.
And when a youthful pair comes across my gaze,
I’ll thank God for love,
And wish them many happy days.
And as my life approaches its autumnal equinox,
I’ll keep my heart in its gilded box.
And I will make a wish persistent and bold,
For a gentle, loving hand to hold. Bfk

Castle Montclair
161
Castle Montclair,
Where the residents silently float through the air.
You’re unwelcome at this lonely keep,
Where the invisible servants utter not a single peep,
Afraid that they’ll disturb their lord’s eternal sleep.
So what for you might be a spooky vacation,
Is to them a source of consternation,
As you enthusiastically tromp about at night,
Looking for a cheap fright,
They can’t wait for your final day,
When you will simply go away.
They’re warning – but are you hearing?
Do you still wonder why your luggage keeps disappearing?
If you weren’t so boisterous and loud,
Maybe you’d notice the curtains are actually grave shrouds.
Yet here you are with your camera and camcorder,
Creating all kinds of unearthly disorder.
You chatter, squeak, and squawk,
Not realizing that unseen eyes are watching you like a hawk.
162
But you’ve come to Castle Montclair to see the ghosts,
To drink some wine and make some silly boasts,
You’ve made their schedule quite hectic,
They really wish all the chairs were electric.
For although you’d perish with a squeal and yelp,
At least then they’d have some extra help.
Their only relief is when you’re out on the lonely, dreary moor,
Embarking on the frugal ghost hunting tour,
Trust me – it’s not simply bad luck,
When the bus runs out of gas and gets stuck.
So on behalf of beings that can neither scream nor shout:
Please – get out.
Bfk
Call Girl
163
Like a call girl turning a trick,
I wade through the morning with its smiles, phony and slick,
I float on top of the compliments, greasy and thick.
I left my soul at home,
The atmosphere chills me to the bone.
I close my eyes and go through the motions.
It hurts to look,
It hurts to feel,
Are my tears for your entertainment,
Or are they real?
My hopes and scruples are fading fast,
Just one more glass ceiling to get past.
My future is calling,
But one misstep and I’m falling.
The paycheck and power are waiting,
My naiveté is fading.
I turn it over in my mind,

164
As I leave those hard working losers far behind.
Smiling my way to the top,
After one too many smiles I found I couldn’t stop.
My clothes stay on,
But the gloves are off,
I eagerly dive into the pig-sty feeding trough.
It doesn’t matter what kind of hand you’re dealt,
If you’re willing to hit below the belt.
Yeah – you gotta know a lot of tricks,
To survive office politics.
Bfk
Recipe for Disaster

165
Take a pinch of negative campaigning,
Mix it with an economy that’s faltering and straining,
Serve it up in a government that gives lip service to complaining,
Now on top of all this misery,
Sprinkle an armed citizenry.
There you have it:
A recipe for disaster,
A bitter stew,
Baked by our political rhetoric into a frightening plaster.
It will be digested amid increasing security and bureaucracy,
A humble pie slowly eaten by Uncle Sam,
The poster child for hypocrisy.
Bfk
Sex Sells
166
A life lived at the end of your fingertips,
Burning desire behind civilized eyes,
Carnal honesty trapped behind sealed lips.
Sex sells,
It’s the exposed secret that everyone knows too well.
A dream wrapped in a sweet breath,
As age creeps in,
The fantasy slows and dies a quiet death.
Sex dwells,
On TV, in magazines, and the internet,
A delicate perfumed butterfly net.
A feast for lonely hungry eyes,
As the images parade past us,
They wear out their disguise.
Sex tells,
In the privacy of a dark room,
We feel the truth bloom.

A heartfelt tremble in the voice,

167
And our bodies leave us no choice.
Sex yells,
Some days it knocks us down and demands our attention,
We can’t fool it with our clever arguments or inventions.
A soft tease promises momentary bliss,
Don’t deny you’ve taken the bait,
Why else would you be reading this?
Bfk
Love Lost
168
Love – lost between the lines of glamour magazines,
Romance – As real as unicorns and other silly dreams.
Love – aimlessly wandering the cold, pale halls of dating sites,
Romance – washed away by a tidal wave of carnal delights.
Love – buried under money,
Romance – subdued by the ego’s siren call, as sweet as honey.
Love – a cheap trinket purchased by chocolates and gold,
Romance – an industry with millions of books sold.
True love?
That’s sitting on a museum shelf,
Gathering dust,
While romance has been thrown into society’s junkyard,
Left to rust.
For until we’re loved for who we are,
Instead of what we’ve got,
A shallow, cold existence will be our lot.
Upon the waves of society’s fads our hearts will be tossed,
Romance will continue to drown,

And love will be lost.

169
Bfk
Blind Spot
170
It’s so scary how easy it is to ignore,
No matter how much others implore.
Whether it’s voicemail,
E-mail,
Or headphones,
Too many of us are stuck in somebody else’s dead zone.
You say you’re friends,
But you’re really not,
You’ve shoved them into your blind spot.
It’s chilling how easy it is to judge,
One look and our opinion won’t budge.
Someone gives you a smile,
But what have you really got?
Are you sure you’ve escaped their blind spot?
It’s amazing how people can be so cruel,
They’re so many ways they can make you look like a fool.
It seems like you can never be sure,
So you’re always tempted by the sweet allure,
But you don’t get closer because you’re insecure.

171
But oh! They’ll hang out with you if you’re cute or hot,
Otherwise you might be condemned to live - and die,
In their blind spot.
Bfk
Nosedive
172
If you go into a nosedive,
I really don’t mind,
It’s your choice to stay alive,
Salvation is yours to find.
Life doesn’t always have to be crash and burn,
It’s sometimes a matter of live and learn.
So as you plummet towards the ground,
Remember hope and help can always be found.
As you descend,
It may seem like this is the end,
But get a grip on what you think and feel,
And grab hold of the wheel.
Even though all those nightmares are so demanding,
With a little help and humility you can make a graceful landing.
For it’s a dangerous game - emotional blackmail,
You never know what you’ll win,
You’ll never know what will happen if you fail.
Bfk
What Am I?
173
I’m a fizzy soft drink,
I’ll be any flavor you like,
I’m sweeter than you think.
Or maybe I’m a delicious cake,
Simply sitting here for you to take.
Or maybe I’m a mangy dog with a wild streak,
Not always docile, mild, or meek.
Or maybe I’m bomb quietly ticking away the time,
With a madman caged inside who defies reason or rhyme.
I may be sweet and cute,
Or disgusting and vile,
But I’ll never let you find out what’s behind my smile.
Bfk
Check Your Brain at the Door

174
When we become drugged by the monotony,
And our petty aspirations deliver the final lobotomy,
They’ll tell us to check our brains at the door,
And we’ll gladly do it,
For we’ll be dead at the core.
When our days and imagination sneak out the back door,
And we keep going even though our hearts are sore,
As the hollow dogma seeps into every pore.
When our problems are no longer hairy,
And all the cosmic crises cease to be scary,
Because they’ve been swept under the rug by some political tooth fairy,
Because caring will be too much of a bore.
When the autopilots become our best buddies,
And the rock stars have been reduced to fuddy duddies,
They’ll tell us to check our brains at the front door,

Because feeling something will be too much of a chore.

175
When our noble goals drift down like soft, cool snowflakes,
And standing still is all it takes,
Our souls will become cheap, faded fakes.
What was incredible,
Will become soggy, bland, and inedible.
We’ll be stuck with the samurai poet,
Who could kill a thousand falsehoods with a stroke of his pen,
But didn’t know it,
For instead of focusing on his writing,
His nails he was biting.
Then they’ll tell us to check our brains at the door,
And we’ll do it,
Never knowing if we finally made it,
Or really blew it.
But when we get the courage to think big,
We’ll realize that the game isn’t rigged.
Bfk
Sanctuary Hidden Among Riddles

176
Life mirrors art,
And art mirrors life.
I am trapped between these two reflections,
Uncertainty branches out in infinite directions.
My continual voyage round the clock face,
Has become a whirlpool,
Dragging me down into some mysterious place.
My abode is somewhere between shadows and sunlight,
Time is backwards and forwards,
And I cannot set it right.
And as I start my hopeless trek,
My footprints are smaller than the smallest speck,
My strides are bigger than a thousand suns,
But ah!
Before I take my first step my journey is done.
There is no chance of me making any sense,
A sanctuary hidden among riddles my only recompense.
But I’m free from grown-ups and their silly rules,

And all that logic that makes me sing the blues.

177
No six o’clock news to make me cry,
Purposely floating aimlessly now between “live” and “die”.
My sanctuary is beyond society and its corrosive touch,
When I’m not there I miss it oh so much!
I may only be a bedridden, wandering waif,
But for the moment I am safe.
Bfk
Leftover
178
Leftover love,
Leftover shame,
Good intentions half-eaten,
Romantic ideals bruised, shattered, beaten.
Still we play this sick merry-go-round game,
All the while trying not to cut and maim.
Leftover love,
Leftover pain,
Is there some type of advantage we’re trying to gain?
I’m buried,
Under all the heart-shaped fantasies I carried.
Leftover love,
Leftover smile,
We’re already guilty – no need for a trial.
Leftover love,
Standing in the rain,
More – and less – of the same.

With each bad ending promises become more polluted,

179
With each broken promise “I Love You” becomes more diluted.
All this pessimism may make you swoon,
But show me true love,
And I’ll change my tune.
Bfk
Dumpster Dive
180
Let’s go for a dumpster dive,
It’s the only way we’ll survive.
Feel the warm, sleazy slush,
The post-modern commercial mush.
Some think it’s a tomb,
But for us it can be an industrial womb.
Some throw it all away,
But we aren’t so lucky,
We have to make something yummy from something yucky,
Things these days aren’t ducky.
Let’s swim around in the trash,
Before the rest of the world starts to crash.
In an ocean of discarded whims we’ll thrash,
For they love it today – but tomorrow it’s gone in a flash.
So let’s take the plunge,
Into our neighbor’s grunge.
They say this race is for the rats,
But we’re here of our own volition,

We’re gonna win cause we’ve eaten the competition.

181
Bfk
Teflon Traveler
182
Teflon traveler,
You go so many places,
And see so many faces,
But nothing sticks,
Always ready with an American fix.
Teflon traveler,
You brush against so many peoples and cultures,
But nothing rubs off,
More concerned about longitudes and latitudes,
Than with feelings and attitudes.
Oh! Your demeanor,
How it pokes and pricks,
Always ready with American tips and tricks.
Teflon traveler,
Dreaming of faraway destinations,
Always ready to take another senseless vacation.
Teflon traveler,
You’ve learned nothing from your travels,
Now you’re dumbfounded as your wisdom unravels.

Teflon traveler,
183
You haven’t changed since you’ve gotten back,
Perhaps you should’ve traveled off the beaten track.
Bfk
Goodnight Cruelty
184
Where does the sarcasm go at the end of the day?
What happens when no one is left to play?
Those comments that just don’t mean a thing,
What do they do when there’s no one left to sting?
Good night cruelty,
I’ll put you to bed,
No staying up,
And running around in my head.
All those bad words that just want to fight,
What do they do when we turn off the light?
All those malicious secrets that were too good to keep,
Where do they go when their audience falls asleep?
Good night cruelty,
Just go to bed,
No staying up,
And wishing I was dead.
What happens to all the stereotypes,

After the last drink at the bar?

185
Are they planning more fun,
After we drive away in our car?
Good night cruelty,
I’ll put you to bed,
Don’t sneak around,
Filling my neighbors with dread.
And what happens to those mean little snickers,
When we finally say goodnight?
Do they find somebody else to squeeze and hold tight?
Good night cruelty,
Just go to sleep,
No staying up,
Just to make me weep.
You see,
Cruelty has a life of its own,
Even when we’re asleep,
It can still prowl and roam.
Bfk
Circling the Drain

186
Matrimony was never meant to be an economic solution,
Marrying for money will never be anything more than civilized prostitution.
But that’s the way it goes these days,
Our dreams washed away in the rain,
Our hopes circling the drain.
Our role models have grown fewer and fewer,
As our leaders sail straight to the sewer.
More pills – less pain,
Our ideals circling the drain.
Honesty only pays in the storybooks,
To get ahead we have to outwit the crooks.
On the fast track to worthless gain,
As our families circle the drain.
Others will never discover who we really are,
Our insecurities will never let us get that far,

We’re skidding on our own greasy hypocrisy,

187
Which drips from a self-fulfilling fashion magazine prophecy.
Our creativity has been slain,
Our identities are circling the drain.
Bfk
The Death of Chivalry

188
When chic comes before chivalry,
And competition beats out civility,
And decadence is sweeter than decency,
We’ll no longer be ladies and gentlemen,
We’ll simply be Fashion’s slaves,
Nothing more than know-it-all knaves.
When our skin becomes tough as leather,
And we’re too lazy to lift even a feather,
Our good nature will be sent packing,
We’ll know something is amiss,
But we won’t know what we’re lacking.
When the anthem becomes “me, me, me”
And we wade through pain and suffering,
But refuse to see,
We’ll be disgraced,
But distastefully disagree,
Unable to find our morality.
If others are never understood,
Is it because we never left childhood?
Then the refrain will become “would, could, should”.

189
Our heroes will be hung,
Their deeds unsung,
Our role models will be moth-balled,
And the “good” old days won’t be recalled.
When erotica erodes romance,
And true love is never given a chance,
Our sensibilities will be flying by the seat of their pants.
When we make vows on a whim,
And the chances of keeping them are slim,
Emptiness will finally force its way in.
When we finally scrub away our scruples,
And we become pundits instead of pupils,
We’ll foolishly believe,
That “To Get”,
Is better than “To Be”,
And we’ll unwittingly drown,
In our own misery.
When all we have to offer the world,
Is a pre-fabricated cookie-cutter smile,
And we barricade ourselves behind a comfortable lifestyle,

We will have set a new record for running a crooked mile.

190
When we do nothing more than impatiently insist,
And see no other option than to rudely resist,
Our nobility will have died,
No one will show up for the funeral,
It’s better that way – no one would’ve cried.
Bfk
American Revolution
191
Uncle Sam will tell you,
We had one revolution – we don’t need another,
Don’t believe him brother.
We gotta keep it equal,
We gotta keep it free,
We don’t wanna repeat our history.
They use all the tricks,
Those masters of politics,
From carefully planned inaction,
To carefully orchestrated distraction.
With each political stunt,
The big picture gets no clearer,
The next thing they summon up to Capitol Hill should be a mirror.
They want to keep us scared out of our wits,
Mad as hell,
Or tickled pink,
The last thing they want us to do is think.

192
Their promises are hollow,
But if they repeat them often enough,
Enough will follow.
Oh King George,
You’d be so happy to see,
How our government has tricked us out of our liberty.
Yes, we’ve fallen under King George’s long slumbering curse,
Our true freedom is driven away in a hearse.
A faint shadow stands in its place,
And laughs in our face.
In Washington the faces change,
But the charades don’t,
The People will have to change the country,
If their leaders won’t.
Victory is within reach,
They can’t beat us,
As long as we have free speech.

Our politicians simply stand there and bray,

193
Sincerely believing their taunts and punch lines will save the day.
Finding sound judgment in our capitol is like finding a needle in the hay,
And good governance never sees the light of day.
Sadly, no amount of tough talk will make the problems go away,
But it all makes sense – inside the Beltway.
We’re so worried about dangers from foreign soil,
And as Corporate America reaps big profits,
We sweat and toil,
(Unless you’re in the unemployment line,
But hey, don’t worry – Washington is doing fine).
The government has put the will of The People on the back burner,
They’re hoping that the average American is a slow learner.
But being average isn’t enough,
Not when times are so tough.

Now’s not the time to be slow,

194
The American Royalty has got to go!
To arms! To arms!
If you drown out the distractions,
You’ll hear the alarms.
Soon we’ll be left with nothing more than a broken nation,
Ruled by an oligarchy of corporations.
It’s time to tell Washington and its friends:
The American Revolution never ends.
Bfk
No One Stood Up
195
No one stood up,
They just took a seat,
If things were different they would’ve,
But they knew they had been beat.
So they silently boarded the Train Wreck Express,
Bound and gagged by cowardice.
For no one ever put pen to paper,
In defense of their neighbor.
So a disillusioned stare replaced their croaking gloat,
For they really believed all they had to do was vote.
They never realized that the government was driven by fads,
They simply believed all those TV ads.
No, they just didn’t think,
And now they were being driven to the brink.
So, as the train gathered steam,
And the scenery changed from bad to worse,
They wondered who would suffer and who would go first.
And when someone mentioned something about a brake,
Everyone remained silent,

For it was a risk they weren’t willing to take.

196
The whole time they never challenged those well-funded buffoons,
So the whole ride played out like a demented cartoon.
For a lack of intellect can’t be compensated by gobs of money,
If it wasn’t so sick it would actually be funny.
So as the train sped on towards the bridge that was out,
There was no rallying cry,
No defiant shout.
As they approached that terrifying canyon,
Each held the hand of their faithless companion.
They just sat there, sipping their tea,
Singing their pitiful anthem:
“This wasn’t supposed to happen to me.”
But no one stood up,
No one dared, no one tried,
And that’s how our democracy died.
Bfk
You Hear It All the Time

197
You hear it all the time:
Talk about cutting taxes and spending,
About border fences that need mending,
But everyday hopes and fears need tending.
In this fading nation,
The people have been removed from the equation.
“Conservative”, “Liberal”,
Or some other dirty name,
But as we quietly drift off to shame,
It’s not the politicians – it’s the people who are to blame.
The people are drowning in ideological stagnation.
Political analysis from all sides,
But the pundits are the only ones making great strides,
While “analysis” and “reality” collide.

The people are stocking up on desperation.

198
Promises galore,
But keeping a promise is such a chore,
It’s all too complicated and such a bore.
The people can buy everything but an explanation.
Tearing down reputations,
Character assassinations,
Not quite innocent souls lost in a labyrinth of insinuations.
Peoples’ hearts are hard,
And courtesy is on vacation.
Our leaders’ personal lives on display,
A never ending tawdry gossip parade,
Too bad no one ever learns from the mistakes they’ve made.

People are fending off a home invasion.

199
The economy’s in trouble,
We’re living precariously close to another “bubble”,
Investors crawling out of the financial rubble.
The people are unaware of an implosion of innovation.
Politicians towing the party line,
Assuring us that if we do it their way things will be just fine,
Assuring us that things will be different – this time.
People have accepted that doubt has settled in for the duration.
Endless talk, talk, talk,
Uncle Sam – come down to my street,
Let’s take a walk.
You can write your plans on the pavement with colored chalk.
We’ll see if they can withstand the rain,
We’ll see if all your efforts were in vain.

200
The people are stockpiling meaningless accusations.
You hear it all the time –
No wait,
I’m turning a deaf ear,
‘Cause something has to change around here.
This nation doesn’t have to fade away,
But it’ll be our actions – not talk – that save the day.
Bfk
Replaceable Parts
201
We’ve filled our world with replaceable parts,
We’ve poured more junk into our hollow hearts.
Nothing’s unique,
There’s no curiosity left to pique.
It’s all show,
There’s hardly any flavor,
It’s impossible to tell a stranger from a neighbor.
What’s weird is feared,
What’s odd is buried under the sod.
We all wear the same look-alike shroud,
We don’t know how to stand out in a crowd.
So we close our shutters,
And anxiously await the coming of the cookie-cutters.
Bfk
Bridges
202
If you burn too many bridges,
You become stranded,
Begging from those you once commanded.
It’s always easier to burn than to build,
It’s no use crying over milk that’s been spilled.
Bridges of straw,
Bridges of sticks,
It ended without cause,
‘Cause we ran out of tricks.
Longing for a taste of the power that once thrilled.
Bridges made of dreams,
Bridges of fantasy,
Our willpower came apart at the seams,
When we overdosed on ecstasy.
Think of all the possibilities our raging fires have killed.

Bridges of stone,
203
Bridges of steel,
Safe passage to somewhere called “home”,
Something you can reach out and feel.
But when minds are emptied,
Voids are filled.
Bfk
Happiness in a Bottle
204
I’ve been asked to pen something cheery,
Something not so dreadfully dreary.
Here’s an interesting thought:
What if happiness could be bought?
I’d be first in line to buy that magic draught.
Imagine – happiness in a bottle!
Something to rev up hope,
Something to open up that optimistic throttle.
So – if you could put happiness in a bottle,
What would yours contain?
Distant thunder and gentle rain?
The sweet midnight-call of a lonesome train?
If happiness were for sale,
What would you buy?
A puppy wagging its tail?
A clear blue sky?
If happiness were a crop you could grow,
What kind of seeds would you sow?

Moonlight sparkling upon pristine snow?

205
A new mother with her little ones in tow?
As hard as it is to believe,
All these priceless things are free.
Bfk
We’ll survive
206
We’ll survive.
Despite our difficulties,
We will survive.
Like a flower planted in barren soil,
We’ll be rewarded for our toil.
We may groan, we may weep,
But our roots run deep.
We’ll survive.
We may have to wade through affliction,
But we’ve got this crazy hope addiction,
We’ll survive.
We press on even though we’re sad,
We keep going,
Because we can see beyond the bad.
We’ll survive.
Sometimes we’re ignored,
Sometimes we’re punished for doing what we should,
But we keep reaching for the good.
We will survive. Bfk

I Found Her in the Junkyard

207
Cursing the cold spring rain,
Trying to find my way in vain,
I happened by a junkyard,
A wasteland dented and scarred.
I don’t know why,
But something caught my eye.
My curiosity pushed me forth,
So I headed north.
There in the middle of all those rotting, rusting piles,
A happy fragile child.
She was dancing round a small delicate flower,
In her joy she had lost track of the hours.
I was mesmerized,
I was shocked.
In an instant our eyes locked.
It just didn’t make sense,
Why she climbed the fence,
Navigated past the burning rubber and faded metal,
Just to dance round those soft petals.

208
But beauty is where beauty needs to be,
Perhaps only after surmounting obstacles,
Can we appreciate this mystery.
Bfk
It’s gone
209
The visitor once so feared,
Has now permanently disappeared.
A nonchalant anticlimactic vanishing act,
Devoid of class, diplomacy, or even tact.
It’s gone.
The house is empty now,
The silence has moved in,
No more just-beyond-your-senses row,
It’s as if the spectral violator had never been.
It’s gone.
No more entity drifting past my face,
No more companion creak upon the staircase,
But my happiness cannot erase,
The fact that my home is now a colder, smaller place.
It’s gone.
For although its affect upon my family was truly tragic,
Whilst here it reminded me of life’s mysterious magic,

Of those things that cannot be understood, tamed, or controlled,

210
Which aroused a curiosity that couldn’t be placated or consoled.
It’s gone.
I was always resentful of its constant passive attack,
But for some unexplained reason,
I want it back.
But with a sigh I realize that it’s gone forever,
No more bizarre, wild, ghostly treasure.
It’s gone.
My home and life no longer haunted,
My boring days and nights stream forth undaunted.
Nothing round the corner that is oddly, yet sublimely insane,
I reluctantly surrender to the constant, bludgeoning mundane.
It’s gone.
So as I look around and issue forth a tear,
I’m missing something that should have never been here.
It’s gone.
Bfk
Spectator Sport
211
I saw it on the news,
I couldn’t deny it - it was right there in front of my face,
I started to sing the blues,
It was time to endure talk of the next presidential race.
I’m afraid our constitution has come up short,
And our elections have become a spectator sport.
Oh, you can call and call,
You can write and write,
You won’t accomplish anything at all,
Except fighting the good fight.
They’ll keep playing their games,
Recycling the same old names,
And while in the corner disaster crouches,
We’ll watch it all from the comfort of our couches.
Electoral College? Hmph! More like The School of Hard Knocks,
Our political parties just can’t think outside the box.
So we’ll have to listen to speech after speech,
While the details of their plans are just out of reach.

They’ll debate and explain,

212
But until they start making sense,
I wish they would simply refrain.
I’m sure we’ll pay for our apathy one fine morn,
But till then,
Could you pass the popcorn?
Bfk
All Grown Up
213
“All grown up”, I arrogantly thought.
No need to change,
Nothing in my life I ought to re-arrange.
But as I passed my reflection,
I was drawn into deeper introspection.
I looked at who I was,
And who I am,
And realized that “grown up” was simply a sham.
If people were looking for perfection,
They would have to look in another direction.
Is adulthood really ever achieved?
Deep in my heart I guess that’s something I never believed.
For adulthood is not a static state,
The steps to absolute maturity are too many to enumerate.
So as I wonder in what direction my life should move,
It’s comforting to know that there’s always room to improve.
A precious pearl of wisdom to keep me humble,
As through life I still occasionally stumble. Bfk

God is my Power
214
God is my shelter in the storm,
The winter snows don’t bother me,
I’ve got my convictions to keep me warm.
Yeah – sometimes I’m tripped up by temptation,
And sometimes I’m tricked by infatuation,
But God lifts me up every time I’m knocked down,
Some days I’m treading water and doubt,
But He won’t let me drown.
And when I wake up to tragedy,
God is the solution to my calamity.
No matter the place, no matter the hour,
God is my power.
Bfk
Dark Legacy – Part III of “The Wizard” Trilogy

215
The wizard disappeared long ago,
But he left behind his treasure trove,
Deep within a sad, sundered grove.
Then one day,
A lad who was too curious for his own good,
Dared to enter that haunted wood.
He wandered into a place where sun and moon are at eternal war,
Deeper and deeper he journeyed into the infernal core.
For many a year,
The goodly sprites,
Protected that place with all their might.
But the boy was just too clever,
And he found the loathsome lair’s secret lever.
The sweet Fay’s warnings and protests were in vain,
And the visitor stepped into the forgotten fane.
At first he cautiously strode,
Through that abominable, cobwebbed abode,
But as he left his good sense and scruples farther behind,
He became enthralled by that sinister shrine.
Fetishes, trinkets, boons – an evil medley,

An assortment of toys cunning and deadly.

216
Seduced by the odd echoes and queer harmonics,
His voice returned to him faintly demonic.
He was fascinated by the tomes and books,
Neatly placed in their disgusting nooks.
He stared at those gruesome works,
With their musty pages and unnatural quirks.
And as he took a tome from the shelf,
The macabre cycle repeated itself.
Bfk
Through Lonely Eyes

217
It’s a licorice snare,
A delicious dare,
Avert your eyes,
Don’t stare.
All you’re trying to do is be nice,
But you’re ignoring your own advice,
Soon you’ll be on thin ice,
Standing over a lake of vice.
You see what you want to see,
You rationalize,
Life is tough when you see it through lonely eyes.
It’s so easy to fool yourself when you have no friends,
It’s difficult to make it through the day when you can’t pretend.
For the sake of a little comfort,
You’d give it all away,
In order to fit in,
There are so many sick games you’d have to play,
And there doesn’t seem to be any reward,
If you simply walk away.

Just for a brief moment of skin on skin,

218
Who cares about the mess you’d be in?
You rationalize,
I know how much emptiness you’ve absorbed,
But this love boat is composed of cardboard.
Just to get one step closer,
To a moment of sincerity.
The insanity of loneliness washes away our clarity.
You rationalize,
Searching for one reason,
One excuse,
It seems the only choice you have is poison or the noose.
But you’re walking down that road again,
Hey kid – when are you gonna finally break out of your playpen?
Things will be so much different then.

But today you’re in a tricky spot,

219
Trying so hard to live with what you’ve got.
Some days it’s so hard to deal with what is,
Instead of what is not.
You rationalize,
Sometimes strutting,
Sometimes stumbling,
Sometimes flying,
Sometimes falling,
The wrong choice is always calling.
When all you have to work with is desperation,
All you’ll end up with is frustration.
You rationalize,
But it’s better to be single for all the right reasons,
Instead of in love for all the wrong ones,
Avoid that long look or you might come undone.

Better to carry your cross,

220
Rather than bear your shame,
One day your heart’s loss,
Will be your spirit’s gain.
Bfk
Reunion II
221
I’ve always been at my best,
Looking ahead,
Instead of looking back,
I’ve always been happiest,
Taking the long straight road,
Instead of zipping around the racetrack.
Caught up in past failure,
Or reminiscing about former glory,
Either way,
It prevents me from writing a new story.
A reunion.
A chance to relive all the old dreams,
And revisit all the old adolescent crime scenes,
Do you think this time we’ll figure out what it all means?
Round and round,
Simply revolving,
High school wasn’t the place where I did my best problem solving.
So why would I go back,
Life isn’t about regressing,
It’s about evolving.

222
There will be enough time for reminiscing when I’m dead,
Now – now is the time to press ahead.
Bfk
The Best of Me
223
Everyone deserves the best of me,
No matter the situation,
Or our personal history.
I came to that conclusion,
After searching my soul,
After courageous contemplation,
Divine wisdom took hold.
I understood that rights were not only about receiving,
But also about giving,
What a self-centered life I had been living!
I realized that my back should be bare,
I had too many shirts,
I ought to keep giving,
No matter how much it hurts.
I needed to figure out,
How to help somebody else besides me,
Yes – I should be living more thoughtfully.
If I wanted to be a true gentle man,

I had to listen,
224
I had to strive to understand.
So I decided that this angelic advice should be heeded,
I would offer apologies before they were needed.
I’d be the first to back down,
I’d focus on praising others,
Instead of my own renown.
I would offer,
Instead of ask,
A sometimes challenging,
Yet rewarding task.
My behavior wouldn’t be,
Simply a reflection of my company,
Or the presence of a golden opportunity.
It might be difficult,
But I think I could live with the consistency.
For what’s the use of a philosophy,
That depended solely on reciprocity?
If I kept living,
Eye for an eye,
And tooth for a tooth,
I wouldn’t be smiling very much,

To tell you the truth.

225
It might be an arduous path,
But I really shouldn’t stop,
I’ve heard the view is breathtaking on the mountain top.
Bfk
Knight in Shining Armor

226
My knight in shining armor,
My cold, steel charmer.
Wearing a clunky coating of arrogance and pride,
You couldn’t take it off if you tried.
Whether your intent is to apologize or thank,
All I can hear is “clank, clank, clank!”
It’s so sad but true,
I’ll never see the real you.
Whether a hug or a handshake,
As long as you’re wearing that armor,
It all seems so fake.
Nothing more than a man of tin,
Hiding a cowardly lion within.
You may think you have the advantage,
Because I’m not similarly dressed,
But you haven’t realized,
You haven’t even guessed,
It’s OK for me to be me,

My heart and soul are on display,

227
For the world to see.
Bfk
Odd World
228
You’re reading something sinister,
Between my lines,
You don’t have all the clues,
But I’m sure you’ll piece together all my crimes.
What an odd world you live in!
Everyday – you’re visited by the paranoia parade,
And since you can’t see outside your muddy windows,
You simply give in.
Why is every good intention suspect?
No wonder why your relationships get shipwrecked.
You’ve lost another friend,
“You’re safe now”, whispers your chorus of boogey men.
Everyday – you join the bragging brigade,
And you think you’re so cool,
The goodwill of others you constantly evade,
Your own misconceptions have played you for a fool.
You think you’re surrounded by diamonds,
But you’re merely shackled by rust,

Bound for that wonderful boom town,

229
You abruptly turn around,
Because you were told it was a bust.
Everyday – you ride the rumor cascade,
Thinking you know so much,
The only thing you’ve achieved is ignorance displayed,
Sadly, you’re so out of touch.
So the harder others try,
The farther you fly.
With your faulty connections,
You’ll somehow get by,
Clutching that umbrella,
Given to you by a handsome fella,
Even though there’s not a cloud in the sky.
Everyday – you join the ticker-tape tirade,
Others had high hopes for you,
But they’re beginning to fade.
No real relationships left,
Simply fenced in by Face Book friends,

And bombarded by in coming callers,

230
Meanwhile your world gets smaller and smaller.
Yes, you’re so smug,
Sitting in your Emerald City,
But everyone’s affection for you is being replaced by pity.
Bfk
Game
231
What if they had a game,
And everyone came?
What if everyone lost?
What would be the cost?
What if there were no winners?
Would all the self-righteous saints,
Degenerate into salivating sinners?
What would happen if everyone stepped onto the court,
Without a sharp retort?
How would everyone feel,
If they stepped onto the field,
But no one would yield?
What if they had a game,
But no one knew the rules?
What if the score was kept by fools?
Who would play such a game?
Who would spend all their hopes and efforts in vain?
Who would be that insane?
Bfk
Not your Type

232
All the glamour,
All the excitement,
All the hype,
Can’t cover up the fact,
That I’m not your type.
For all my wit,
And achievements galore,
You’d probably find me a bore.
Our lives are moving in different directions,
We have different hopes and dreams,
Different imperfections.
We’re at different places in life,
We have different reasons and feelings,
We’re tap dancing on different glass ceilings.
But even though we can’t relate,
From each other we can still learn,
We can enjoy a good debate,
And we’ll always have someone,
When for something different we yearn. Bfk

Successful
233
Successful at life,
Successful with the opposite sex,
Our victories no deeper than a skin of latex.
We’re playing to win,
We’re playing for keeps,
Our conscience stretched thin,
We “hang” with our peeps,
No one noticing above the din,
That our guardian angel weeps.
We win at the workplace,
But there’s a failure of heart,
A great big winner’s grin on our face,
While our soul comes apart.
We retire to our lavish homes,
To enjoy our wealth,
But there’s a poverty of spirit,
A crisis so alien – so foreign,
We can’t even get near it.
We go online,
And count our friends and connections like cattle,

234
But what are we connected to?
Deep in the night,
The emptiness begins to tattle.
For those who do see and hear,
They play their cards close to their vest.
But deep within their chest,
A tiny iron box,
With one too many locks,
Is neatly suppressed.
In the meantime we get drunk with the accolades and awards,
Sedated by the “good” life,
And the comfort it affords.
Nothing to offer,
But so much to take,
We may be living our dreams,
But we should be awake.
So we keep ourselves busy, busy, busy,
Too many toys,
And too much noise,
If we lift up our eyes we might get dizzy.
For we confuse activity with success,

We’re too busy to feel blessed.

235
Yes – we’re successful in all we do,
And it all goes to our head,
Too scared to embrace a higher – deeper point of view,
That would reveal it should all go to our heart instead.
Bfk
236
n a tiny town,
Far from the larger places of renown,
There lived a discontented knight,
Trying to escape his mundane plight.
Some called him Ásbjörn the brave,
To others he was simply Ásbjörn the knave.
But this young warrior had no fears,
He stood a foot taller than all his peers.
No he could not sleep,
He could not rest,
Until he had completed some far flung quest.
For he wanted more than his simple life could offer,
He wanted a gold and gem laden coffer.
He needed a trophy to be displayed,
If he were to win the hand of Gwendolyn,
The beautiful maid.
So down to the shore he strode,
Where the tempestuous see goads,
He stood upon the fickle sand,
And stood before his ship – crafted by his own hand.
“Ah, Hestur – the swift sea horse!

Together we shall run a wondrous course.

237
I crafted you day and night,
During those long years I took neither friend nor wife.
The day has finally come,
My destiny has finally begun.
This journey shall bring,
Sagas of glory of which bards shall sing.”
So clutching his sword, his prize possession,
He boarded his craft, his unyielding obsession.
No remorse, no backward glance he gave,
As he set out upon the frothy waves.
hen he landed it was windy and cold,
He was greeted by a sight loathsome to behold,
She was old,
How many years she had been there could not be told.
With a croaking voice thus did her greeting unfold:
“Young Knight I bid the welcome – I bid the depart,
For your quest is over before it can start.
You have entered the domain of Torkag the Unforgiving,
A bane upon all the living.”
Ásbjörn replied: “Who is this tyrant and why should he stand,
Like a towering thunderhead over the land?”

“Do you not smell the sulfurous fumes?

238
Do you not see the brimstone plumes?
Torkag is the ruler arcane,
Before ye step further I pray ye abstain.
As long as twelve horses, end to end,
He has no need of master or friend.”
“So, this land is oppressed,
This injustice must be addressed.”
At this, the hag’s impatience flared,
And her words would not be spared:
“Torkag is a dreadful serpent,
I’ve watched many a meal stride forth smugly content,
Now their graves are bedecked with lament,
Because of their foolish pride of which they would not repent.
He relishes young men who would test their mettle,
For he has an old score to settle,
His treasure is a collection of trophies from his conquests,
Up there in a cleft in the rock he broods and nests,
For no comfort can he find,
Since he is the last of his kind.
But he is by no means alone,
For his court is attended by charred skulls and bones.
So be wise and heed my warning,
Else you’ll be dead by morning,
Another hapless victim of his fiery breath,

Nothing more than charred, roasted death.”

239
But Ásbjörn heeded her not,
He put her behind him,
And her warning he forgot.
sbjörn climbed the rocks,
The wind tugging his golden locks.
Higher and higher toward the towering crag,
At last he was confronted by a river of slag,
Beyond which lay a jagged gap,
His presence applauded by a distant thunderclap.
As he entered the serpent’s frightful palace,
He prepared himself for the dragon’s malice.
He had only taken a few steps into that awful tract,
When he spied a glittering artifact.
It was a beautiful, gilded mirror,
It roused his avarice so he drew nearer.
But there was something dark about his reflection,
It seemed more than mere mortal imperfection,
Angry at this innocent object of wonder,
He cleft the mirror asunder.
Watching from the gloomy shadows of his aviary,
Torkag wondered:
“Have I finally found a worthy adversary?”

240
Ásbjörn boldly stepped forth, holding out his sword,
From his mouth the haughty words rushed and poured:
“I have come for your life and your hoard!
Too long the suffering you caused you have ignored,
Your demise this day shall be your own just reward!”
Torkag in reply simply roared.
Then he spoke with a chortle:
“Ahhh…another brash mortal,
I see the hag has once more been frustrated,
But my hunger shall be satiated.
Perhaps this time,
My vengeance shall be repaid,
For the cruel, untimely death of my bride Nivade.
I am king – and that is what you seek to be,
But can you bear the weight of my destiny?”
Ásbjörn met the dragon’s gem-like eyes,
With a cold stare,
And for the briefest of moments,
Saw his own fate reflected there.
Then the contest began in earnest,
And the cave glowed and flashed like a fiery furnace.
They fought for seven days and seven nights,
Amongst the ruin of fallen champions and shattered knights.
Among the flames and wretched smoke,

Ásbjörn gave many a devastating stroke,

241
Inspired by the thought of his future spouse,
While Torkag enjoyed his game of cat-and-mouse,
The dragon inflicted many a wound and scar,
Knowing that his victim’s screams could be heard near and far.
Yes - for seven nights and seven days,
Smoke poured from the lair, creating a dismal haze.
Then Ásbjörn delivered the final stroke of the battle,
And the cavern shook from Torkag’s death rattle.
ictory! Victory for Ásbjörn the Brave!
He alone emerged from the cave.
High upon the cliff he stood proud,
And declared his triumph long and loud:
“The nightmare is over, the dragon is dead,
For those who wish proof I give you his head.
The era of the tyrant has now faded away,
And man shall be the master of his own days.
Now we can live in happiness without worry,
No more need to hide and scurry.”
The people concluded that he had done a marvelous thing,
And from hamlet to town the bards did sing,
And this tiny realm made Ásbjörn their king.

For three days the people feasted, joyous and contented,

242
But upon the beach the sea-hag lamented:
“O king, your coming days will be cruel and demanding,
For although you had courage you lacked understanding,
Your coming months will be filled with grief and woe,
For what you did not know,
Is that without a dragon to fear,
Our enemies will certainly draw near.
Onward they will rush,
Marrow will crack and blood will gush.
We will be reduced to shattered ruins and burning homes,
For there is no heir to mighty Torkag’s throne.”
Having finished her sad, lonely speech,
Knowing that hope was out of reach,
The hag waded into the sea,
And let the waters cover her misery.
And alas! What the hag predicted came to pass,
The swords and spears began to mass,
And the kingdom shattered like glass.
The people were led away as slaves,
Cursing aged Ásbjörn the Knave,
Who himself was wishing for a quiet grave.

243
ong ago I was known as Ásbjörn the Brave,
A curse I fear I may carry to my longed-for grave.
I renounce that title and that name,
I reject pride and its foolish games.
For in my youth I did a horrendous thing,
I invaded an innocent country and slew its rightful king.
O foul gained wisdom!
With a single stroke,
I won and lost a kingdom.
Now respectful of Nature’s ways,
I must set things right before I end my days.
Beside the grave of Queen Gwendolyn I cannot tarry,
For the guilt is almost too much to carry.
Exiled from my ruined home,
I endlessly search for a successor to Torkag’s throne.
From the ancient, lonely hermit-sages I beg,
The secrets of the serpent’s egg,
Where it is and how it may be obtained,
How it could be nurtured and sustained.
From stormy sea to mountain crag,
I’m haunted by the prophecy of the sea-hag,
I’ve searched from misty shore to shady glen,
From sanity to madness and back again.

Then one day upon the ice,

244
I discovered Queen Nivade’s final sacrifice,
A solitary egg was hidden there,
A gleaming gem amidst my soul’s despair.
This sacred stewardship I gladly undertake,
What a joy to cultivate the youth of this noble drake!
And perhaps one day a young child,
Will visit that noble king,
With speech and words wise and mild,
They might discuss many things,
Such as misguided hearts and ill-deserved destiny,
And how to avoid the mistakes of history.
Bfk
245
ong and sleek,
This graceful serpent of feathered crest,
And scaled cheek,
In gold and rare stones dressed,
Presides in place of his father,
But unlike Torkag,
No reason to haunt the lonely crag,
His every need addressed,
Living in peace instead of conquest.
His flaming eyes,
Amplify his regal guise,
His agile wings,
Inspire the bards who sing,
In praise of his sinuous, snow-white form,
And his mesmerizing song,
Which greets every morn,
Lingers in the people’s mind sweet and strong.
He sits in his temple bedecked with silver and scarlet tapestry,
Which compliment his awesome majesty.
Supported by pillars of ivory girded by golden bands,

A view of the entire kingdom this shining aviary commands,

246
Silver and platinum twist and curl,
About fountains laced with pearls,
And steps fashioned from the purest ebony,
Lead the select to the dragon’s royal seat.
The crowning achievement,
The lapis-lazuli inscription upon the wall,
Which demands the attention of all:
“Our dragon-king, our defender,
Who will never falter,
Never surrender,
We bring sacrifices to your altar,
In exchange for your vigilance,
We will keep our covenant with all due diligence.”
he pact began long ago,
As the children are taught and everyone knows,
It has been strengthened through the ages,
By the guidance of the learned sages.
It began with a simple exchange,
A dragon’s might for the first fruit of the grange.
The simple pact,
Which once governed one simple act,

Now invaded every aspect of life,

247
From the size of the farmer’s tract,
To whom one could chose as a wife,
All to avoid the old strife.
As the years witnessed life’s complications,
The scholars invented increasingly complicated adjudications,
New revisions upon numerous intertwining decisions,
Oftentimes caused rigorous debates between legal opinions,
Which were translated onto reams of parchment by armies of clerical minions.
Clever political machinations,
Regularly inserted clever little deviations,
That conveniently dealt with embarrassing situations.
So this simplest of bargains,
Became a chameleon carta with numerous notes in the margins.
This simple agreement,
So long ago created,
By compromise was distorted,
By the revision of history was so inflated,
And by public clamor so contorted,
That the original meaning could no longer be found,
In that tome – gilded and leather bound.
The pact could no longer be understood by the common man,
It took a sharp mind and years of study to understand.
But ordinary lives and the law could not be divorced,
And punishment – no matter how severe – was always enforced.

248
hey wear white robes to reflect the serpent’s purity,
And their ways are beyond fault most assuredly.
Upon their head they bear a feathered crest,
Their swords are curved like the dragon’s claw,
A flaming eye upon their chest,
Tattooed flames upon their jaw.
They travel from hamlet, to town, to city,
And enforce the law without pity.
What kind of person could enforce the law without emotion?
What would inspire such rigid, fanatical devotion?
They were chosen by the select,
Before they could stand erect,
Plucked from their mother’s breast,
They were raised in a secluded scholarly nest.
Their monastic cradle was in the shadow of the dragon’s lair,
But they were forbidden to venture there.
To serve Rakastettu was not their role,
“The law is your champion and master.”
They were told.
Sleep was a luxury they could little afford,
For they had to master the binding accord,
They studied the tome day and night,
And during those long years took neither friend nor wife.
They were taught there were no concessions,

249
And the treaty became their prized possession,
Enforcing it was an all consuming obsession.
hat was once an inscription upon the wall,
Has now become a heavy book,
The dragon no longer presides over a court,
But is trapped in a gilded nook.
As the regulations and codes are codified and congealed,
The deepest desire of his heart can never be revealed.
So every morn Rakastettu greets the dawn in foreign tongue,
That humanity cannot understand because they are so young.
“I cannot breathe,
I cannot stretch,
Unless the book of law allows it,
I am an over-regulated wretch!
Bound by a paper chain,
I am trapped in a theoretical domain.
Slowly drowning in legality,
I envy Torkag who was wild and free.
Better to earn your spoils through vicious battle,
Than to lounge about eating sacrificial cattle.
But as I look upon their delicate, tiny form,

I know they would perish if we deviated from the norm.

250
It is not their worship, it is not their fear,
But it is my own guilt that keeps me here.
But of my stewardship I grow tired,
Oh what a demanding, tedious pact we have sired!
So they come with their offerings every day,
And I slowly chew them like a cow eating hay.
So enthralled by my beauty,
They don’t notice my dismay.
My overriding fear, my consuming worry,
As I watch them bow down,
As I watch them scurry,
Is not that I will never fly,
But what will happen to “my people” when I die.
For upon my strength they have become too dependent,
And I have no descendent.”
t began slowly at first,
A subtle hunger,
A quiet thirst.
As the withering began to accelerate,
There was less and less to satiate.
But the people knew that law and order,

Would be a wall and a border,

251
Between them and anarchy,
So they did not get panicky.
But as their hunger intensified,
And their expectations were not satisfied,
The law was defied.
The elect did not hesitate,
To debate, adjudicate, and obfuscate,
But it was too late,
The disaster hit the realm with full force,
And the pact was driven off course.
The limit of tolerance had been reached,
The ancient agreement was breached.
Despite his size and power,
Rakastettu was unable to save the people in their most desperate hour.
Unable to act,
He realized that the kingdom had been doomed by the pact.
No remedy could be found within the law,
And the country slowly sank into famine’s vicious maw.
With no hope and no relief,
Rakastettu was slain by his own grief.
he famine came and went,

The people once more became productive and content,

252
Even though their protector was absent.
Yes, this tiny nation did survive,
And eventually stopped looking at the vacant throne with longing eyes.
The keepers of the law scattered on the winds of disillusionment,
The people having no need of such a harsh instrument,
They became wandering hermit-sages,
Trapped in dogmatic cages.
The temple itself began to crumble,
Until it became nothing more than a forgotten ruin,
Over which passers-by would occasionally stumble.
For they discovered in due season,
That the law could not supplant reason,
And that blind obedience was the highest treason.
Just like a ship upon the shining sea,
The law must be supported by a dynamic philosophy.
Whether royal command or imperial decree,
No power can legislate happiness, love, or morality.
Bfk
253
There is no magic left,

The imagination is bereft,
The country’s psyche is barren and stripped,
From the collective unconscious the mythology has been ripped.
In the center of the realm lies a soulless void,
That the country tries to fill with tawdry, gaudy celluloid.
Dreams no longer take flight into the wild and arcane,
They’re simply on a journey of shades of gray,
That reflect an uneventful day,
A journey from myopic to mundane.
The countryside is cluttered with refinery and forge,

The sky is obscured by the noxious vapors they disgorge.
In the factories,
Men sweat and toil,
They trudge home,
On over-worked soil,
Littered with tin cans,
And motor oil.
The city streets are lined with shops and homes,

Heated with coals,
The metropolis contains a good number of dark alleys,
Populated with strays and lost souls.
Life has merely become a pursuit of coin and bread,

No dragons to fear or worship,
Hunger and homelessness are what people dread.
The present age has its own rhythm and song,

Which drowns out the ancient bards,
Who do not belong.
Their sagas no longer cause the soul to resonate,
Their imagery once romantic, can no longer captivate,
The modern heart with its faint, down-trodden beat,

And once adored verses no longer motivate weary feet, 254
To bouts of dancing and joy,
For modern ears have become too accustomed to industrial noise.
On a small, unassuming street,

Lived a small boy, Rzemieślnik,
Lively and clever,
Curious and neat.
Born in a foreign land,
Always trying to escape,
His aunt’s guiding hand.
One day he decided to visit the museum,

That grand palace of antiquity,
With its rooms and halls,
That stretched out to infinity.
Quickly becoming bored and lonely,
He sneaks past a door marked: “STAFF ONLY”
He finds himself behind the scenes,
With ample ways and means,
To satisfy his curiosity,
When he comes across a half-assembled monstrosity.
As he explores with his eyes and hands,
At last he understands:
Here lies Torkag,
Conqueror of the lonely crag.
As he stares into the dragon’s hollow eyes,

Rzemieślnik begins to fantasize:
I know the tale,
And I know it well,
I have often fallen asleep under its mesmerizing spell.
I have stood upon the sand dunes,
Wondering what it would be like,
To see those brimstone plumes.
To see Torkag soar through the sky!
With him I would gladly vie,

For the kingdom and the hoard, 255
Armed with courage and with sword.
But my schoolwork and chores altogether censure,
Any possibility of such a grand adventure.
My fate – so mediocre, so uninspired,
I welcome strife,
Then I could slay monsters my dreams have sired,
But wait – I can bring Torkag back to life!
So his obsession drove him to study mechanics and engineering,

And every mathematical course,
With every formula his dream he was nearing,
His passion drove him like a mad horse.
He was bereft of classmates and friends,
And many nights found him between the bookends.
He worked long and hard,
When not in class,
He was skulking about the junkyard.
Eventually the iron dragon took shape and form,

Assembled secretly before the break of morn.
Lelu had parts fashioned from stainless steel,
He had pump and piston,
Cog and wheel,
Rack and pinion,
Coil and spring,
And many other curious things,
Were Lelu’s countless minions.
And in his great iron skull,
Polished, burnished, yet metallic-dull,
Rzemieślnik put a burnished brass globe,
That he mistook for a soul.
Lelu was as long as two steam locomotives,
End to end,
And the precocious little boy was his only friend.
But Lelu was not aware,

And could not understand, 256
All he did was follow rote commands.
No, the dragon did not feel,
Did not think,
For it was a slave to robotic instinct.
Too many conflicting commands,

And dangling codes,
Began to overwhelm Lelu’s solid state transistor nodes.
The ill-writ scripts hit his metallic sphere like a hammer,
He was a victim of bad programming language grammar.
The gears started to grind,
And the cogs began to sing,
Then the marionette burst forth from its strings.
Deep in its spinning globe,
A new command took hold,
This new requirement which the dragon had to meet,
Was summed up chillingly in one word:
“delete”
Like an auto-piano gone awry,
Lelu fluttered forth like a drunken butterfly.
It did not know right from wrong,
It simply obeyed the siren song,
Having no other choice it heeds the call,
Destroy everything!
Burn it all!
The machine carried out this new sentence,
In a fashion cruel – yet even-handed,
Everyone fled,
Even the factories were abandoned.
But in this moment of dire despair,

A new hope cleaved the air.
Out of the corner of Rzemieślnik’s eye,
Issuing forth from a sunny patch of the sky,
A dragon comes into view,
Luonto has come home,

But he is by no means alone, 257
He is followed by his band of rainbow hue.
Years ago Sivistynyt discovered only one,
The rest were freed by the dutiful sun.
Gracefully soaring,
And downward sweeping,
An ancient promise the dragons are intent on keeping.
The toy’s nihilistic victory is denied,
It is simply broken and swept aside.
Yes, the outlaws have returned from their long exile,

But they are greeted by tears,
Instead of smiles.
Luonto took in the charred, industrial display,
And his heart overflowed with dismay:
“Long ago we were driven from the realm,
Man’s fear and greed began to overwhelm,
His desire to co-exist,
With his elder brothers,
In this country fragrant and sun-kissed.
We weren’t like you,
So puny, backwards and earth bound,
The whole world was ours to choose,
So a new home was found.
But our father and yours shared a fatal flaw,
So out of greed and malice,
Torkag tormented you with tooth and claw.
Sweet Nivade’s advice he spurned,
But she did not want us to suffer,
Because of the lessons he never learned.
So far away in a secret place,
She laid her clutch,
Hidden from man’s sneering face,
And beyond his spiteful touch.
But while we were still in the shell,
She taught us long,
She taught us well,
When we came of age we sensed something wrong,
And the desire to return began to swell.

So, to our rightful place we have returned, 258
But our Fatherland has been scarred, charred and burned,
Sadly Torkag wasn’t the only one who never learned.
The lush landscape that this country once boasted,
Has been soiled, mangled, and roasted.”
Rzemieślnik – no answer has he,

No solution to the calamity,
So he got down on bended knee,
And cried,
For the innocence and beauty that had died.
For seven days and seven nights the boy repented,
But the dragon’s anger never relented,
Until the dawn of the seventh day,
When his sorrow finally gave way,
For no matter how much he, his kin, and his country had been wronged,
For a new beginning Luonto longed.
The natural balance had been restored,

And nature – so long ignored,
In hardened hearts was given a special place,
And a smile appeared on every face.
No need for a tyrant,

Or a hoard,
Nature’s bounty would be their reward.
No need for a king to rule them,
No need for a pact to bind and fool them.
They would be guided by love and common sense,

Between Man and Dragon there would be no fence.
This new cycle of compassion and reason,
Would carry them through every season.
For they did not want to go back to the ways of greed and malice,
They did not want to return to the golden palace.
With the heart of man so moved,

It was vowed that nature would never be displaced, copied, or improved. 259
For sometimes a glimpse of Nature’s wisdom,

We think we catch,
But Nature’s glory we cannot hope to match.
Man will always be nothing more than a poor imitator,
We should leave the creating to The Creator.
So – had the cycle finally ended?

Was Nature’s wisdom finally befriended?
We don’t know,
But we shall see,
What will come and what may be.
But heed my final warning,
Or else one fine morning,
Hard hearts and closed minds,
Will grab hold of misbegotten destiny,
And bend it back upon history.
Then the old cycle shall live again,
To bind and trap the souls of men.
Bfk
Reflections upon my grandparents’ home

260
I loved my grandparents dearly,
I miss them yearly.
I was raised in their loving fortress of mortar and bricks.
But in an old house like that,
A young child’s mind can play tricks.
For all the dark places,
Had their own dark spaces,
Where one could’ve seen disembodied faces,
If they did exist.
Yes – it was a great spot for haunting,
But the spooks never came,
Perhaps there was something too daunting,
But it was a spooky place all the same.
Even if the place had been leveled,
Perhaps it still would’ve been bedeviled,
By something I couldn’t see or quite explain,
Perhaps before I arrived on the scene,
Someone vicious and mean,
Flushed all the ghosts down the drain.

Yes, it was a good place for spirits to live,

261
To these silly reflections a moment of time I still give,
Out of my busy, adult day.
But oh! How lucky I was to run around and play,
In a spooky old house,
Where imagination held sway!
Bfk
Attention
262
I’d give anything,
Freedom,
Dignity,
Sincerity,
Just for a little attention.
What wouldn’t we do?
This world is so big,
This world can be so cruel.
Hey! Over here!
Look at me,
I’ve been one busy bee.
Come walk through my big home,
That way I won’t feel so alone.
Listen to the engine purr,
As I turn the key in the ignition,
You have the cure,
All I want is a little recognition.
Humility or heroism – what a choice!
Drowning in a sea of chatter,
We raise our voice.

263
In a world so crowded it can feel so empty,
We don’t want to be someone,
No one ever knew.
Look at my career,
My kids, my spouse,
(By the way – did I give you a tour of the house?),
See the way I’m dressed?
Please – please be impressed.
In a world so cluttered,
So many things demand to be uttered,
If you can’t be a hero,
You can always be a fool.
We strut, we boast,
Even if our lives pop up like burnt toast,
We should hide in shame,
But we just don’t give up the ghost.
We just keep on smirking and bragging,
We don’t realize we’ve been slowed down,
By all the achievements we’ve been dragging.

264
The sanctuary or the spotlight,
Let others have the glory,
Or fight the good fight,
Two polar extremes,
Bound by banter,
Our resumes turn into screams.
In a world where everyone wants to be a winner,
(Is that why no one shows up for dinner?)
We’ll just make it all up,
Who cares if it’s not true?
Hey! I won!
Look at all the wonderful things I’ve done,
I found the cheese – I made it out of the maze,
Please,
I just need a little praise.
There’s nothing we wouldn’t do,
But everyone else is doing it too,
If we’d only listen,
We’d see everyone’s soul glisten.
Till then after all these fleeting things we’ll chase,

And desperately pray,

265
That someone will rescue us from this lonely place.
Bfk
Exploit
266
I saw the tragedy on my TV screen,
You were right there on the scene.
I’m not stupid,
I get the point,
You’re only there to exploit.
We’ve had problems around here,
For way too many years,
But they fell on deaf ears,
Till the TV crew showed up,
Then we got to see you strut your stuff.
I can’t escape this sad joint,
But you only come around when you want to exploit.
So many tears,
So much pain,
Everyone knows why you came:
Personal gain.
Your words may be emotional,
Your speech may be adroit,

But I know you’re here to exploit.

267
It shouldn’t have happened,
It really was a shame,
But you’re turning it into a self-aggrandizing circus,
You’re at the top of your game.
For so long you closed your eyes,
But when calamity hits,
And the voters are pitching fits,
You show up in your crusader’s guise.
You’re not here for them or for me,
You’re here to get the most you can get,
Out of yet another tragedy.
Bfk
Taught
268
You’ve been carefully trained,
You really can’t be blamed,
But your upbringing has left you maimed.
Yes, you’ve been carefully taught,
But what was prophesized doesn’t have to be wrought.
Think of all the lessons you’ve learned,
And all the love that you’ve spurned,
Now you’re wishing the tables were turned.
You’ve been carefully trained,
Now your imagination is drained,
Low self-esteem is all that you’ve gained.
Yes, you’ve been carefully taught,
Look at all the self-loathing you’ve bought,
Between a rock and a hard place you’re caught.
But you’re thinking too many years have gone by,
Too scared too even open your eyes,
It is harder to learn the truth,
Or live with the lie?

269
Don’t you be so deaf, dumb, and blind,
Leave your childhood classroom behind.
Bfk
Holding Me Back
270
This is holding me back,
Too tired to defend,
Too tired to attack.
This isn’t friendship my friend,
It’s just another dead end,
In this relationship there is no relate,
Just an endless, internal debate.
Same face day after day,
While the script starts to burn,
And the plot starts to fray,
This is a role I don’t want to play.
One oar in the boat,
With nothing but my fantasies to keep me afloat,
Time to get out of the moat.
Time to give up the ghost,
Don’t wanna keep listening to her hollow boast,
Time to set sail from the barren, rocky coast.
To be free from the guessing,

Would be such a blessing,

271
There would be no escalation,
Of wishing or speculation.
I’m tired of living in separate factions,
I’ve given my all but received less than a fraction,
Don’t wanna be doomed by this distraction.
This is holding me back,
Too tired to defend,
Too tired to attack.
I’m so sick of winning or losing,
Accepting or refusing,
But no matter what I decide,
God will provide.
Bfk
Feelings
272
Thou shall not kill,
Thou shall not steal,
A little understanding if you will,
It’s still OK to feel.
This might send you reeling,
But I’m more than one giant feeling,
Don’t be such a dunce,
Sometimes I feel several different things at once.
But because of my feelings,
I’m trapped under your glass ceiling.
I think I’ll walk out of your glass home,
I’ll leave you with your collection of stones.
So I guess I’ve been spurned,
But I didn’t do anything wrong,
This sentence wasn’t earned.
But if I did do something wrong – prove it,
If you can’t find any evidence to support your prejudice – lose it.
If my feelings deserve handcuffs,
Then this world has become too tough,
Even if I did get out of jail,

It would be such a strange tale:

273
Forever on parole,
Just for what runs through my soul.
So before your paranoia gets on a roll,
There’s something you should know,
I have a little self control.
If I really tried,
I could live continuously content,
Yeah – I could live life as a fake,
But why should I suppress my feelings,
Just for your sake?
Emotions aren’t acts,
You ought to sort the myths from the facts.
Bfk
Distortion
274
A message of peace is distorted,
A hope for understanding is thwarted.
A message of love is distorted,
A kindness is aborted.
A message of friendship is distorted,
Good intentions are contorted.
Gentle words bounce off hard hearts,
People waste head starts.
Kind words can’t make it past closed minds,
The more distortion one hears,
The more fear one finds.
I’ve heard talk of a cure,
But can it compare to society’s allure?
Let’s hope so,
For if distortion is all that’s left,
Then we’ll all become deaf.
Bfk
Pride
275
If you toot your own horn,
Someone may point out you’re off key,
Better to hum your own little tune – quietly.
If you brag about all the battles you’ve won,
Someone may point out that the war is far from done.
If you boast about coming in first place,
Someone may point out that you were running the wrong way.
Better to do your tooting where no one can hear,
Or else your arrogance might become clear.
For bragging invites both criticism and applause,
While flouting your strengths,
You might be exposing your flaws.
Bfk
Be My Friend
276
Be my friend:
Don’t comfort me,
Challenge me.
Don’t pour me a drink,
Make me think.
Don’t just sit there and agree,
Help me overcome my frailty.
Don’t come to my defense,
Tell me when I’m not making sense.
Compliments won’t help me cope,
They’ll just turn me into a hero without any hope.
I don’t need your sympathy,
I need your honesty.
Please don’t be like all the rest,
Please stop telling me that I know best.
There are too many people who think I can never fail,
They smile and nod,
As over the edge I sail.
Bfk
We’ll Get By
277
I’m held together by barbed wire stitches,
I’ve been sewn up by the snitches.
I want to soar on eagle’s wings,
But they’re being dry cleaned,
But when you can’t soar through the sky,
You can still get by,
This is what I’ve gleaned.
So as the hands fall off the clock,
I stroll down the block,
I find myself on Easy Street,
And who do I happen to meet?
A road crew filling in the potholes,
Made by the government moles.
But the street will get repaired,
Because somebody cared.
And when cars again drive down Easy Street,
No one will regard it as a wonderful feat,
Even though the road crew was tired and beat.
I turn left onto Memory Lane,

All the houses have been sold,

278
Because the memories were too old,
I want to leave – but I forgot the way I came.
So I stand there befuddled,
This seems like so many other problems,
Through which I’ve muddled.
I’m starting to get itches,
Caused by those damn stitches,
Ironically distracted from my predicament by those glitches.
But I know eventually I’ll get off the lane,
I’ll recover my wits and rescue my brain.
From my own weakness I’ll be weaned,
This is what I’ve gleaned.
Have you been where I’ve been?
If so maybe I’ll meet you on the way back,
And together we’ll get on the right track.
Bfk
Play-Doh Folk
279
I’m so soft,
I’m so impressed,
I change shape,
Even if only lightly caressed.
I am one of the Play-Doh folk,
I don’t have my own point of view,
I don’t have a bone to chew.
I squish,
At the very thought of the smallest wish.
I can be squished flat,
At the drop of a hat.
Every night I attend the Play-Doh ball,
Nobody dances,
For peer pressure squishes us against the wall.
In the morning we go back to our pads,
Having been pulled and pinched by the latest fads.
Our anthem is: “Mold me – Mold you.”
Our mantra makes one out of two.
And that one is impossible to define,

A fitting punishment,
280
For those who have no spine.
Bfk
Such a tiny little thing (Part III of “Fear”)

281
Such a tiny little thing:
In the cradle of my kitchen chrome,
You had come to make yourself a home,
Underneath my plaster dome,
A little eight-legged pilgrim,
All alone.
Beauty odd, beauty dark,
Contrasted against the chrome,
So stark.
Of all the places you could be,

It was here you chose to park.

282
But while with my new found friend I was smitten,
I was also afraid of being bitten.
Even though he took up so little space,
In my home,
In my heart,
There was no place.
You thought you found a place to live,
Somewhere you could thrive,
But no mercy could I give,
You simply found a place to die.
After I had my fun – your time was up,

So I got you into the disposable cup.

283
Outside – there you go!
Free to live amongst the patches of snow.
For I decided after deliberation much too short,
How it would be (and you couldn’t retort).
This was your destiny,
Abandoned – left to freeze.
The chrome cradle is empty now,
Will you survive?
I know not how.
What will become of you,
I cannot say,
But I do know this,
Fear has won the day.
So I relived a tale,
Bitter and cold,
As harsh as it is old.
284
Bfk
Where I want to be
285
“Where do I want to be?”
For so long,
That was an undiscovered mystery.
But I got a hint, I got a clue,
When I hit that brick wall – and broke through.
Where do I want to be?
A place where I can sort it all out,
Where thoughts whisper,
And feelings don’t shout.
A place where I’m safe from danger,
Where I can meet myself,
And not come face to face with a stranger.
Nowadays, I get lots of invitations,
To all kinds of situations.
I’m sure I would find friendship and laughter,
But would I really live happily ever after?
Other situations offer opportunities for growth and learning,
But would they satisfy my deepest yearning?
I’m sure there are situations that would light my fire,
But would those passionate flames snuff out my deepest desire?

Please excuse me,

286
I must be on my way,
If I want to get where I want to be,
I should take that first step today.
Bfk
He Endured
287
His childhood was a test of wills,
He was raised in an atmosphere that kills.
No one ever laid a hand on him,
In that well-manicured place,
But every negative comment,
Was a slap in the face.
The family was good at covering it up,
You’d never hear it,
But every day,
That home was crushing his spirit.
It’s no good, it’s no use,
There’s never a reason for emotional abuse.
The father’s displeasure and disappointment were vented,
The son’s soul was dented.
He made it, he endured,
But there were days – oh, there were days,
He thought he was something that couldn’t be cured.

When a child became a man,

288
The father turned to his spouse,
He declared: “I’ve won.”
She replied: “Yes, you’ve won – you’ve won an empty house.
For I no longer want to be your wife,
I no longer want to share your life.”
Men – build a home that’s gentle and loving,
Forget about emotional pushing and shoving.
Try to understand – instead of scold,
Or else you’ll have nothing but furniture to berate,
When you get old.
It’s no good, it’s no use,
There’s never a reason for emotional abuse.
Bfk
Puzzle Piece
289
I’m a puzzle piece,
Looking for that perfect fit,
No amount of elbow grease,
Will make me shout: “that’s it!”
My colors and distinct form,
Sometimes make it hard for me to conform,
But all those things that make me unique,
Are just part of my mystique.
There’s really no harm,
In my eccentric charm.
I’m part of a scene much larger than me,
One day I’ll fit in – beautifully.
Bfk
My League
290
You may think that I’m out of your league,
But that’s not true,
We’re on the same playing field,
Is that really shocking news?
Those people who say you’re not good enough for me?
Don’t believe’em,
Here’s a free ticket to my coliseum.
Don’t treat me like a door mat,
And you’ll get your turn at bat.
Put a smile on my face,
And I’ll escort you to first base.
If you have a little class,
I’ll give you a season’s pass.
So if you want to score,
If you want me to admire you all the more,
Then sit down and talk,
I’ll make everything perfectly clear,
Even if I have to use a blackboard and chalk.
For good communication,

Is the solid foundation,

291
Of good beginnings,
Open up to me,
And this might go into extra innings.
Bfk
Jack-in-the-box (Part I of the “Jack-in-the-box” Trilogy)

292
Jack-in-the-box,
With his outfit colorful and fluffy,
Resents being in a place so small and stuffy.
Jack, the unhappy little clown,
Dreams of a night on the town.
Every night he wipes his tears with the drapes,
But one morning he spies a pair of scissors,
A means of escape!
He cuts himself,
Leaps off the shelf,
Jack – he’s the man,
Jack – he’s got a plan.
Jack, the toy run amok,
No longer has to put up with that stupid rubber duck.
Jack the clever,
Jack the strong,
But his boasting doesn’t last very long.
He’s picked up by the family dog,
Jack, who sacrificed so much and worked so hard,

Is buried in the back yard.

293
Bfk
Jack among the Stars (Part II of the “Jack-in-the-box” Trilogy)

294
In the year 2,376 they came,
Hoping to extend their interstellar reign.
Their ships were large and boxy,
These intergalactic conquerors had spunk and moxie.
They visited an earth gone wrong,
The humans were long dead and gone.
But those of rubber nose and oversized shoes,
This planet they did choose.
Behold the mighty space clowns!
But no welcome wagon could be found,
So they decided to dig around.
And when someone unearthed Jack,
From his ancient resting place,
A smile came across a clownish face.
Then everyone declared:
“This must be the progenitor of our glorious race!”
They made Jack king,
Oh – his heart did sing,

Yes – they made him a prophet,

295
It was a movement so powerful,
No one could stop it.
Day by day,
Supplicants came his way,
But Jack couldn’t say a word,
His worshipers gladly went away,
With wisdom they thought they heard.
But very soon,
Jack’s followers began to swoon,
His silence became a curse,
Instead of a boon.
Jack was almost an idol,
He was oh so close,
Now he was left to float,
Among the cosmos.
Bfk
The Lament of the Space Clowns (Part III of the “Jack-in-the-box”

296
Trilogy)
For their deposed prophet they have come,
But Alas!
Jack has been devoured by a nearby sun.
The toy’s influence – still tainting,
Everyday pilgrims come by,
And kiss his painting.
For despite an advanced scientific mind,
The clownish ones have left wisdom far behind.
“We were way too hasty,
Way too rash,
Now we endlessly search the cosmic trash.
From our hearts the pain doth spill,
Nope! Not here – on to another landfill.
At first we were way too guarded,
To reclaim what we discarded.
But then this fleeting fancy tickled us,
Isn’t it all so ridiculous?

The good old days were oh so good,

297
Why did we do as we did?
Who were we trying to kid?
We should’ve left things as they stood.”
A fool will always find a greater fool to follow,
An ironic yet bitter pill to swallow.
Bfk
He was so free
298
He was so wild and free,
Like a cloud,
Drifting above an endless sea.
But then somebody cared,
He became self-conscious,
His soul was bared,
The wild verses were not dared.
His colorful and crazy words were sparse,
What if his beloved thought he was a farce?
The faucet of his imagination was shut off,
A whole imaginary realm was cut off,
Nothing left to explore,
He became hollow at the core.
He used to be so free,
Like a wild, impatient colt,
Now he felt subdued, submerged, suppressed,
A domesticated dolt.
His spirit used to fly,

It used to soar!
299
He would greet the day with a roar!
But he had been tamed,
By bills and chores.
He used to be brash and loud,
He stood out in a crowd,
Now he conforms with a frown,
For his spouse asked him to turn the volume down.
He used to be so free,
The thoughts, feelings, and words used to come so easily.
Now he’s tangled up in matrimonial diplomacy,
What he thought was wedded bliss,
Was nothing more than Death’s kiss.
Bfk
The Mystery of the Unicorn

300
The mighty unicorn,
Who once stood so tall and proud,
Trudges along dutifully now,
Head bowed.
During the day he’s hitched to the plow,
At night he’s in the company of the pig and cow.
He makes not a single peep,
In the company of the sheep,
Hitched to a post,
His former glory – and freedom,
A fading ghost.
He’s been set free before,
But he always returns to the farmer’s door.
Now forgotten and forlorn,
Why is he condemned to fields of corn?
Were his dreams sold,
For a mere pot of gold?
This once majestic creature,
Now demeaned, distraught, and dejected,

As he wearily paces the farm,

301
Does he feel protected?
O graceful, galloping myth,
Were you burdened by too many expectations?
Were you hemmed in by too many hesitations?
Did your mate leave ya?
Were you dumped by your diva?
If I only had a hint,
Or even the smallest clue,
Are you trying to avoid a worse fate,
Such as the iron bars of a zoo?
The farmer will probably never care,
I will never know,
But every day,
Your sadness grows.
Bfk
The People’s House

302
During my morning dumpster dive,
Doing my best to stay alive,
A vision came unto me,
I saw a place called Washington DC.
In the midst of all the majesty and splendor,
To which my heart did surrender,
I saw a large house,
Clean and white,
Could this be an end to my homeless plight?
It had many rooms and halls,
It was a fine mansion,
With pictures of presidents on the walls,
There was even room for expansion.
An unseen voice said to me:
“This is The People’s House,
You no longer have to beg,
You no longer have to grouse,
Now get going you no-good louse!”
I received a kick in the pants,
It was so fierce,
It shook my belt of soda cans.

303
The vision which came so easily,
Seemed to make sense to me.
If the Commander-In-Chief can’t give me a job,
Or alleviate my helter-skelter,
He could at least give me shelter.
But how was I going to escape this concrete thicket?
I needed a ticket.
So I went to the welfare people
(Conveniently located next to the church with its shiny steeple).
After much grumbling and complaining,
Their response was polite,
But their patience was straining.
At last a compromise was found,
And I was White House bound.
When I boarded that old gray bus,
I noticed my neighbor Ned,
And my cousin Gus.
It seemed that the vision inspired not only me,
But all of us.

When we got to our destination,

304
There were high hopes and great expectations.
Before the break of dawn,
The president met us on the lawn:
“The People’s House?
Well – that’s a little white lie,
No, please don’t cry,
Now get off my lawn – bye-bye.”
A few years later,
I found myself in Heaven’s Palace,
A place devoid of fear, prejudice, and malice.
I saw someone standing outside the gate,
What a sad, awful, lonely fate!
An angel told me:
“This is not the place to scold or chide,
But whether he lives here or not,
Is for you to decide.”
So I opened the door with a gentle grin,
And said:
“Welcome Mr. President, come on in.”
Bfk
The Dead Farm

305
I once knew a farmer, who was so afraid,
Of the fox’s moonlit raid,
That he put up a fence of barbed wire,
Then went in search of guards to hire.
So great was his desire,
So powerful was his need,
That he spent all his money on weapons,
Instead of feed.
He was just so determined to be a winner,
Yet his animals grew thinner and thinner.
Times got tough,
But the farmer did a great job,
Defending all his stuff.
He wouldn’t bend to any amount of logic or reason,
And the farm suffered season after season.
And when he finally declared “Victory!”
The only reply was a faint “feed me.”
Then one sunny morn,
He awoke to nothing but fields of withered corn.

Everything had died,

306
If he wasn’t so busy polishing his guns,
He would’ve cried.
For when you spend it all on bullets,
Instead of bread,
What you sought to protect winds up dead.
Bfk
Dead Man’s Curve

307
Dalton’s Fantasy
He spent night after night,
In the garage,
His parents’ didn’t think it was right,
To be building that motorized collage.
Dalton had all the best parts,
Some from friends,
Some from dubious hearts.
With an engine from a classic corvette,
And a body of a 70s mustang,
His appetite did he whet,
As the motor purred and sang.
The finest chrome and the best glass,
He was the envy of his class.
He ignored his family’s complaints and gripes,
As he fitted the rims and tailpipes.
The car was polished and as black as midnight,
It eerily absorbed yet repulsed the sunlight.
The seats clad in the finest leather,
And the brightest headlight,

He was working through all kinds of weather,

308
That car was his only delight.
Finally, after working from sun to sun,
He was finished – it was done.
The pride, effort, and love – it all showed,
And before him lay the open road.
It Was Just an Accident
He hopped in the car,
Determined to chase the North Star.
The car was washed, the tank was full,
He couldn’t resist the vagabond’s pull.
The ignition purred,
The engine roared,
No more dream deferred,
Goodbye to a life he abhorred.
At first he simply went round the block,
The stereo blasting classic rock,
But he wanted to escape the suburban lights,
And the adolescent failures and parental fights.
Now screaming past farmers’ fields,
Racing the break of day,
Every moment he steals,
Till at last his humility gave way.

Fast approaching Dead Man’s Curve,

309
Where the wise slow down,
And the squeamish lose their nerve,
He sent one simple text,
But he wasn’t prepared for what came next.
He knew her in an instant,
Shy and homely,
Often ridiculed and lonely,
But most of the time she had been distant.
Now all that had changed,
In a moment sickening and deranged.
His black beauty slammed into her simple frame,
He could hear crunching bones and shrieks of pain.
All the effort to build it – what was the gain?
Now he would earn a heartless, vile fame.
Dead but Not Gone
He pulled the car over on a quiet lane,
He didn’t know from whence she came,
All he could think about were the shrieks of pain.
The wind was softly blowing through the trees,
Homes were dark and the world at ease.
Something appeared next to him,
As if summoned on a devilish whim.

He knew it was her,

310
Of that he was sure,
He knew he was her eternal cur,
Slave to something all things holy abjure.
Gleaming skull and shining bone,
A diabolical complement to the moonlit chrome.
Eye sockets hollow and midnight black,
Oh, how he longed for home,
He wanted to go back!
She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek,
Which with tears was now streaked.
“Now my love – you will see,
The consequences of your villainy.
C’mon baby,
Let’s roll,
This beauty is now under my control.”
Eternal Road Trip
Hands stuck to the wheel,
The muscle car raced forth into the surreal,
Beside him his hell-spawn wife,
He was in for the ride of his eternal life.
His own mother was the first to die,
Slowly crushed,
He could hear her cry,

311
As his bride sweetly blushed.
His father was the next to go,
Not one ounce of mercy would the spirit show.
His sister, his brother,
He killed them all one right after another.
And now the car sits by Dead Man’s Curve,
Dalton forever wishing he had lost his nerve.
Trapped by his tormentor who will not yield,
He watches young lives play out upon his windshield,
And when someone reaches his youthful age,
The engine roars to life with demonic rage,
Then it’s off to enjoy the specter’s cruel sport,
Another teen dead – another life cut short.
Dalton is unable to scream – a prayer cannot cross his lips,
From the rattling tailpipes his last ounce of hope drips.
Countless bodies splattered upon concrete,
Yet the ghost’s vengeance will never be complete.
For every body lowered into cemetery mud,
The black beauty fills with blood.
And when the moon doth rise and swell,
Dalton races down that road he knows too well,
To spend the night in the depths of Hell.
Bfk
Please do not text and drive. Please do not drink and drive. Please, just drive –
safely. Thank you. 312
The Old Bards

313
They had our minds,
They had our hearts,
They played with us in our backyards.
Do you remember the grand old bards?
Most of them have gone away,
Laid peacefully in quiet graves.
At night their tales they would spin,
The very air seemed to listen in,
They took us over broad plain and rocky hill,
Out of their mouth the characters would spill.
Together we would journey,
Over frothy sea and wooded glen,
Those grand old bards took us to the stars,
And back again.
Nowadays the bards are few and far between,
Storytelling is becoming a lost art it would seem.
But oh! We shall mourn the day,
When the last bard goes away.
Bfk
Superman
314
Superman showed up,
But had nothing to say,
So he simply shrugged his shoulders,
And walked away.
There was nothing to beat,
Nothing to punch,
Just a poor kid who couldn’t afford lunch.
So he went to find a bad guy,
He soared over a hospital,
Yeah, he did a fly by,
Where inside,
A family couldn’t decide,
Whether their comatose mother should live or die.
Then he changed course,
And flew over a couple crippled by divorce.
No, there was no villain to fry,
But at the hospital he did cry,
And desperately prayed for a cure,
As he held a small life,

So fragile – so premature.
315
Some problems are so complex,
That even the greatest superheroes are vexed.
Sometimes no amount of muscle can set things right,
What’s needed are compassion and insight.
You don’t need superpowers,
To reach out to fragile hearts,
In desperate hours.
So – you wanna be a superman?
Offer a helping hand.
You wanna save the day?
Find something nice to say.
You wanna be a hero?
Convince somebody they’re not a zero.
No, there’s no such thing as a man of steel,
But there are folks who care and feel,
Others’ suffering and pain.
So yes – superheroes are real,
We do not hope in vain. Bfk

I Need a Friend
316
My friends asked me to come out and play,
I said: “No thanks, not today.”
Friendship is more than a game,
It’s a shelter from the rain.
I need a friend.
My friends asked: “You wanna hang?”
“No thanks, not today gang.”
Friendship helps me slip out of the noose,
It’s crazy hope on the loose.
I need a friend.
My friends told me: “This is all the rage.”
“No thanks, I think I’ll act my age.”
Friends are supposed to be more than blips on a web-page.
I need a friend.
My friends asked: “You wanna get drunk?”
“No thanks, I don’t need booze treating me like a punk.
I don’t need to get tanked,
I don’t want my good sense and good name to get yanked.”
A friend is more than a drinking buddy,
Friendship provides clarity when the waters get muddy.

I need a friend.
317
Friendship is so sweet,
Yet so hard to define,
It’s so crucial,
Yet so hard to find.
Without it we’re guaranteed a lonely and bitter end,
We all need a friend.
Bfk
Superheroes
318
I would turn off the TV,
And all the superheroes would go to sleep.
For all their powers,
And invincible sheen,
They were still trapped behind a TV screen.
I was only five,
But I was lucky to be alive,
My neighborhood was rough,
The heroes said they’d always help,
So I called their bluff:
Come out of that silly little box,
Protect me,
As I walk to my school of hard knocks.”
One day I tried to cross the street,
(Something I considered a heroic feat),
I almost died,
But they were still trapped inside.
I knew who my champions were,
Of that I was sure.
When I was beset by childhood woes,

And the tears came in torrents,

319
I turned to my superheroes,
My beloved grandparents.
For when facts meet fable,
Even a young child is able,
To quickly learn,
And prudently discern,
Who loves him.
Bfk
Lyrical Boogeyman
320
I’m a lyrical boogeyman,
Without reason, sense, or plan.
My words are bedeviled,
My consonants disheveled.
So why do you still lend me your ears?
Just to listen to a crazy fool waste his years?
No, there must be something in my madness,
Something more than silliness and sadness.
But what you get out of my ranting,
Isn’t up to me,
It all depends which way your ideology is slanting,
No matter what I write,
You’ll see what you want to see.
Even though I’m on a roll,
This whole thing is out of my control.
Bfk
Nuclear Genie
321
We released him.
The chances of getting him back into the bottle?
Slim,
More like none,
Our glorious plans have come undone.
I can’t believe the fix we’re in,
But it’s our job to tame our Nuclear Jinn.
The first thing we had him do,
Was destroy Nagasaki and her sister,
Even when the pages of history started to burn and blister,
We were far from through.
Now we have him working all sorts of hours,
As our homes and lives he powers.
We want to know all his secrets,
Sooner rather than later,
That’s why we built a particle accelerator.
I still can’t believe the fix we’re in,
He’s everywhere,
Even in our medicine!

322
He works fine,
Until he’s accidentally set free,
Then he goes on a killing spree.
Atomic particles are hard to pursue,
And radiation is even harder to lasso.
Our future is gonna be bright,
But something won’t be quite right,
The planet’s death will be painful and slow,
Our aura of confidence,
Will be replaced by a soft atomic glow.
How it got this far,
I’ll never understand,
But our Atomic Genie,
Has turned into a Nuclear Boogeyman.
Bfk
Big Business
323
Big business,
Big dreams,
Big goals,
Big schemes.
Business is so big,
There’s no room for the little guy,
He wistfully looks at the rainbow in the sky,
And kisses his American Dream goodbye.
With a mortgage that’s due,
And a cupboard that’s bare,
His best days are through,
For he doesn’t have a dream to spare.
As the little guy looks over the land,
He realizes Uncle Sam is on the lamb,
Driven out by the clowns in D.C.,
Sam was lucky to get out,
Before he got crushed by big business and its machinery.
So while the Washington clowns,
Crack jokes and make cuts,
Ordinary folks are the butts.

It’s big business,

324
Those big political earnings,
Who cares about Main Street America,
And its hometown yearnings?
Business is so big,
It almost blots out the gut-wrenching riddle,
Of why those who have so much,
Must steal from those who have so little.
I’m afraid this time,
The little guy will be decapitated by the bottom line.
But it’s on to big business,
Another dream to drain,
Another life to disrupt,
When it comes to morals,
Our country is bankrupt.
Bfk
Stop This
325
Dear Politicians,
Stop this.
Please stop waging war,
On the poor,
Those who have a disability,
The elderly,
Those who are burdened by hard times.
Please stop this.
Please put aside your pride,
Your dogma.
The American People don’t really care anymore.
They want a government that cares about them.
Don’t walk away from the American People.
If the government shuts down,
Even for a day,
And somebody dies due to this neglect,
Can you live with that?
Are we your enemies?
Did we declare war on you?

Are we a threat to you?

326
Do you think we are so dangerous that we must be eliminated?
If we are your enemies,
Who are your friends?
Who stands by you,
While you callously walk away from your duties?
Why would anyone support your actions?
Please – tell me.
I would like to know who they are.
What kind of government abandons its people?
The kind of government that you yourselves condemn.
You’re becoming the kind of tyrants,
That you so publicly decry.
This is all so crazy,
It doesn’t make sense.
Our founding fathers,
Created a government,
Of the people,
For the people,
By the people.
But you aren’t like us,
You don’t know what we are going through,

Or else you wouldn’t be doing this to us.

327
You’re not listening to us,
And we’re invisible to you.
Please stop this.
Please don’t let this become,
One of the saddest chapters,
In our long history.
Right now,
I’m ashamed to be American.
I see nothing to be proud of:
A polluted country,
Run by small-minded men and women,
Who think that the White House,
And Capitol Hill,
Are nothing more than a prize to be won,
Instead of an awesome responsibility.
All you can think of is the next few days,
But this will leave a stain on the American consciousness,
For generations to come,
People will tell their children,
That the government is not to be trusted,
That they only serve themselves.

328
I will be silent now.
But I will quietly pray,
That you will reflect,
Upon my desperate plea,
And stop this.
Benjamin F. Kaye
Government Shutdown
329
So it looks like the government might shut down,
Uncle Sam is just going to walk way,
Skip town,
‘Cause he has nothing more to say.
Sorry Sam – America won’t let you call a time out,
Now’s not the time to sit there and pout.
Now’s the time for the real work to begin,
It’s the big game,
And we want you to win.
Did Superman ever go on strike,
Over a tax hike?
Did the Lone Ranger ever walk out the door,
‘Cause he didn’t want to hear it anymore?
You may think that talking about these guys isn’t cool,
But right now,
We have more faith in them than in you.
Let me be clear:
You have a golden opportunity here.
Right now America needs role models,

Have you ever wondered,

330
Why our kids turn to pills and bottles?
How many more years have to be wasted,
On prosperity promised,
But not tasted?
I know you’ll try to convince us,
With your tough talk and stern face,
When all you’re really doing,
Is keeping your chair from floating off into space.
You better fix this problem as fast as you can,
Or else the next vote that’s cast might be for Superman.
One day the people will make their desires known,
With a loud voice and a clenched fist,
They’ll elect someone they believe in,
Even if they don’t exist.
Bfk
House of Cards
331
The People’s House has become a house of cards,
With a rummage sale of bad ideas in its front yard.
With jokers and the left,
And knaves on the right,
The dealer is far from deft,
There is no middle ground in sight.
And the doldrums are on the horizon,
There will be no prize to keep our eyes on,
There will be no wind in our sails,
We’ll be afraid to leave our coffin,
But luckily we will have run out of nails.
So our house of cards will stand,
Ready to collapse at the slightest reprimand.
No one will be willing to stick out their neck,
And shuffle the deck,
The cards will remain unfairly stacked,
Because of the courage we lacked.
Bfk
Frozen Nation
332
The country has been left in the lurch,
Stuck in a chicken-wire church.
Our problems won’t be solved by bullets or ballots,
What the canvas of our imagination needs is a creative pallet.
The debate has become black and white,
Our angry words circle each other,
Like two boxers in a title fight.
Our ship has run aground,
Upon a shore where excuses abound.
And when we consult our roadmap,
To find a way out of this latest mishap,
We find – much to our dismay,
That the map’s lines have been washed away.
We’re re-writing the laws of supply and demand,
With “talking points” phony and canned,
Till there’s nothing left to dole out but quicksand.
So we’re frozen, waiting for a thaw,
Dangling from disaster’s maw.

333
For when all you want to do is draw blood,
Using boring old crayons of mud,
Nothing new gets created,
Hopes and dreams are simply dissipated,
Solutions are evaporated.
If we become tangled in tandem,
We’ll be ruled by the random,
We won’t stand a chance,
Our existence will be limited to the circumference of circumstance.
If we’re going to have a conversation,
That benefits our great nation,
We’ll have to untie ourselves from all the discord.
Better do it quick,
Or the stubbornness will stick,
And some fool will burn the drawing board.
Bfk
Little Red (Part I of the “Big Bad” Trilogy)

334
Little Red was ridin’ around in the hood,
She was up to her tricks,
She was up to no good.
She spotted the Big Bad Wolf,
As he came down the street,
She played it up all innocent and sweet,
As they stopped by to greet.
“Hey Red – how’s biz?”
“Well Big Bad, you know how it is,
You’ve got coppers and crimes,
Tall tales and nursery rhymes.”
“Red – you up for some good times?”
“Well Big Bad – between me and you,
I’m goin’ over to Grandma’s HQ.”
Little Red’s car was stacked,
In the back seat the goodies were packed.
The wolf started scheming,
Of those treats he was dreaming.
“I know a short cut,
I’ll just take a little peak in Granny’s hut.”

335
But unbeknownst to Big Bad,
Granny’s HQ was a meth lab.
He thought he figured out all the angles,
But he didn’t realize Granny was the queen of the Hell’s Angels.
He disappeared without a clue,
Never to be found by the boys in blue.
So he never got a taste,
I think he ended up in a tube of toothpaste.
So the moral to this story,
(no it’s not all gruesome and gory),
Fellas – take a second look,
Before you take up the chase,
You don’t wanna end up in the wrong place,
At exactly the wrong time,
Do you really wanna star in a tragic nursery rhyme?
So figure out how it really is,
Before sticking your nose in somebody else’s biz.
Bfk
Three Little Pigs (Part II of the “Big Bad” Trilogy)

336
Once upon a time there were three little pigs,
The big bad wolf, having nothing else to do,
Decided to check out their digs.
The first little pig had a house of straw,
It was the craziest thing you ever saw.
The wolf came along and wanted in,
Even though the place looked like it was built out of sin.
From crapshoots,
To prostitutes,
This place was stacked,
With all kinds of vice it was packed.
The wolf shouted:
Little pig, little pig,
Let me in!
I’ll huff and I’ll puff,
I’ll blow your house in!!”
The pig replied:
“If you like to huff and puff,
Huff and puff on this stuff.”
Well Big Bad he inhaled,
He coughed, wheezed, and wailed.
When the cops showed up,

Everyone escaped but he was jailed.

337
The second pig’s house was out in the sticks,
Made from beer cans and twigs.
With bullets and crazy manifestos it was stacked,
To Big Bad there was nothing it lacked.
So he knocked on the front door,
And thought “What the heck.”
But this pig was a redneck.
And when the wolf started to yell,
His mouth was packed with shotgun shells.
For this little piggy was unshaven and crass,
And Big Bad ended up with more bullets in his (well you know where!).
Big Bad he wasn’t feeling like a winner,
But he made one last try to get some dinner.
The last pig’s house was made out of bricks.
And the wolf came nigh with his bag of tricks.
But before he could try his new approach,
He was kissed by a roach.
Then another,
Then another,
Boy, he was crawling with them brother.
Poor Big Bad,

He should’ve learned from his cuz,

338
Or at least he should’ve listened to the neighborhood buzz.
As he ran away,
With a disgusted look on his face,
He realized that there’s a good reason,
Why they’re called pigs in the first place.
Bfk
Peter and the Wolf (Part III of the “Big Bad” Trilogy)
339
Season after season,
Summer after summer,
The wolves don’t get smarter,
They just get dumber.
Big Bad was walking down the street,
He spotted Peter,
By the parking meter,
He looked so safe and sweet.
The wolf had the nerve,
Yes he did dare,
To sneak up on Peter,
And give him a scare.
But when he got within five hundred feet,
Big Bad was yanked off the street,
A simple prank was his only objective,
But the cops were involved,
And so was child protective.
They called him scum,
They called him a threat,

But oh boy, they weren’t done with him yet.

340
They put him behind bars,
And reminded him daily,
Of poor Peter’s emotional scars.
They threatened to lobotomize,
They even threatened to gouge out his eyes.
But what really did the trick,
Was when they threatened to (well you know what).
And when they were convinced he would be good,
They kicked him out of prison,
And made him live in a special part of the hood.
And he would have to check in with probation,
At least once a week,
Or else there would be dire consequences,
If he messed up his winning streak.
He was informed that he should expect the unexpected visit,
Where he would be told:
“It’s no fun scaring kiddies, now is it?”
That was fine with Big Bad,
For he didn’t like being bad anymore,
He had such a rotten rep,
That he needed a police escort to the grocery store.
And whenever he poked his head out of the door,

He was beaten till he was bloody and sore.

341
Poor Big Bad,
He can’t figure out what he did,
But now he becomes terrified,
Whenever he sees a little kid.
Bfk
Temple Cave
342
Temple cave,
The mouth of the mountain,
Dark, vast, oracle fountain.
It spills its truths onto the shore,
To be tasted by the sea,
Realities to be savored – nightmares to abhor,
Swelling to the ankle – now to the knee.
What lies within that obsidian recess,
Where the shadows and mist hold congress?
Time’s echoing vaporous breath,
Sings of something beyond the shore of death.
Damp air rushes in,
Ancient aboriginal myths exhale,
Triumphs and tragedies trapped in the cavity,
Waiting for the black sails.
But the dark ships never arrive,
The caress of millennia nothing can survive.
So the unforeseen will forever wait,
For the buoyant memories of sunken fate. Bfk

Senator Humpty Dumpty

343
Senator Humpty Dumpty,
Didn’t know which bill made sense,
So he got off his high horse,
And proudly sat on the fence.
Vote for Humpy!
My record isn’t quite so lumpy,
I’ll make sure the district isn’t so dumpy.
He couldn’t decide whose grass was greener,
But the halls of the capitol were getting meaner.
No one appreciated his egg-head demeanor,
They just worried that the budget was getting leaner.
Vote for Humpy!
After a particularly bad telephone call,
He fell off the wagon and had a fall,
It was noticed by one and all,
It was so loud it stopped all the rumors in the hall.

Vote for Humpy!

344
Uncle Sam’s pundits and yes-men,
Couldn’t put Humpy back together again,
So now he’s laid up in the hospital,
And taxpayers get to foot the bill.
Vote for Humpy!
Any day now he’ll be back in the saddle,
Ready to proliferate all the preposterous prattle,
Cause he thinks we’re only cattle.
Let’s savor our momentary relief,
From this senator who’s beyond belief,
I hope he turns over a new leaf,
But he’ll probably only bring more grief.
Vote for Humpy!
And please – don’t let my ads make you grumpy. Bfk

Alien Planet
345
I’m living on an alien planet,
It’s called earth,
This isn’t the same globe,
I smiled upon at my birth.
The atmosphere an antagonist,
My enemy the storm,
Things will only get worse,
As the planet gets warm.
It doesn’t matter,
Whether I’m comprised of complete sin or absolute piety,
I’ve been sentenced to death by an industrialized society.
My spirit is brave,
My will is strong,
But against the tempest,
I will not last long.
Not one ounce of mercy,
Is the planet willing to give,
And soon I will not have a place to live.
Bfk
How Dare You?

346
How dare you put power lines up against my sky?
How dare you pave my tracks so your cars can get by?
When I was but a child,
My home was lush and wild,
Now the earth is bent and broken,
Her wilderness nothing more than a token.
My feet feel the pavement,
Hot and hard,
I cannot go where I choose,
The way is barred,
By fence and concrete,
My existence is fractured – incomplete.
Your fires are burning day and night,
One day I’m afraid,
You’ll blot out the light.
So go back to your cold, concrete canyons,
That I have long ago abandoned.
For I know it is my destiny,
To be trapped,
Upon a weathered page of your forgotten history.

347
Bfk
Not for Sale

348
Some items should not be for sale,
They should be beyond the reach of retail.
A heart is one such thing,
It shouldn’t be handed over,
For a shiny diamond ring.
Nor should we sacrifice,
Our opinions and emotions,
For an endless series of promotions.
If our passions are subject,
To the weekly paycheck,
What’s next?
Our talents will be wasted,
Our true glory never tasted.
Our real selves will never be minted,
The real meaning of our lives only hinted.
If money trumps all other pursuits,
We’ll lose our roots.

The day money can buy it all,

349
That evening civilization will fall.
Bfk
Bare your Soul

350
It’s easier to bare the body,
Than to bare the soul,
But if I could open a tiny crack,
If I could tear a little hole,
Would you be angry if I pried?
Or do you regret that I haven’t tried?
Everyone wants to get into your bed,
But I want to get into your head.
Yeah – I like the view,
But I’m not sure I’m seeing the real you.
I could try to get into your pants,
But where would be the romance?
I’m sure there would be plenty of sleazy sleight of hand,
And sexy misdirection,
But there would be no real – connection.
I would know who you are,
Not simply how you look,
I bet there’s far more than a cover to your book.
For to impress,
I must know your character,

351
Not simply how you dress.
You deserve more than a glance,
Are you willing to bear it all?
Are you willing to take a chance?
Bfk
Home Repairs
352
I’d fix the house,
But then I’d draw the attention of my spouse,
She might call me a louse.
I’d buy the nails,
And fix the rails,
But I’m waiting for a great sale.
Everyone on my block knows,
That my lawn could use a good mow,
Yes – the grass needs to be cut,
But,
The wife I’m wining and dining,
And the sports car in the driveway,
Well that needs shining.
Let’s take a look at the roof,
Ooopss! There’s a hole,
Now where’s that remote control,
Yes – this place needs fixing,
There are plenty of reasons,
But right now it’s baseball season.

I really ought to take a look at the window pane,

353
But if I fix it,
You know who will get the blame.
So I’ll get around to the window sill,
When someone else can foot the bill.
Holy mother!
Boy, do I need a new gutter.
Then again – I’m always safe from the storm,
And every winter I’m cozy and warm.
There are a lot of things,
That need fixing around here,
And they’ll get fixed – next year.
The old homestead needs some paint,
It could use a new coat,
But that takes money and time,
And I just bought a new boat.
So I waited,
To make those overdue repairs so long anticipated.
And now my lovely home has collapsed,
The time for making repairs has elapsed.
The wife is long gone,

I should’ve fixed everything that was wrong.

354
Yes – my honey has said goodbye,
I wish I could say she left me high and dry,
But now it’s starting to rain,
Boy! Home repairs are a pain.
So as I look for a new home to buy,
Next time I’ll be totally DIY.
Bfk
Poverty
355
What do you see,
As I push my shopping cart?
You see poverty,
But you don’t see my heart,
You don’t see me.
I don’t have much wealth,
But I’ve been blessed in so many other ways,
With God’s grace and good health.
I don’t have much,
But I do have an intellect,
You’re so conveniently out of touch,
Seems like we’re talking about a poverty of respect.
Your prejudice is so demanding,
We’re dealing with a poverty of understanding.
I may be at the end of my rope,
But I won’t be trapped,
By your poverty of hope.
Bfk
I Won’t Fold
356
My idealism may have been left out in the cold,
But I won’t fold.
I don’t have a lot,
But I know I have something to give,
So I’ll give what I got.
No, I don’t have much to spare,
But maybe just a gentle presence,
Just being there,
Will do the trick.
I don’t have a solution, brash and bold,
But I won’t fold.
My bottom line has taken a spanking,
And my financial empire may be tanking,
But God I’ll go on thanking,
For all that I’ve been given,
Even if up to the front door of the poorhouse I’m driven.
For if my hope becomes creased,
And my optimism bends back along the dotted line,
Then my humanity will have ceased,

I have to try – one more time.

357
You see,
True philanthropy,
Has its own reality-defying entropy.
I may be getting weary,
I may be getting old,
But I won’t fold.
Bfk
Phantom of the Soap Opera

358
He’s the boogeyman with a plan,
He’s the reason why things are so out of hand.
Sneaking around in shadows of half-truth,
No one seems to get along under his roof.
Why does he sow the seeds of discord?
Is he malicious?
Or is he just bored?
Or maybe he does it to protect,
Whatever the reason,
Relationships get shipwrecked.
He is a master of broken hearts,
From behind the scenes he practices his secret arts,
He smiles as the unwitting actors play their parts.
He has become an orchestrator of the tragic,
If people only saw him,
They wouldn’t fall for his black magic.
This cunning, devilish chef,
With his tongue so sharp and deft,

Always has a recipe for disaster,

359
To ensure no one lives happily ever after.
So as good intent and goodwill become history,
A bewildered audience scratches its head over this murder-mystery.
With the plot everyone is well versed,
But the performance seems cursed.
One day he’ll be alone on the set,
Reciting lines he can’t forget,
His only audience,
Phantoms of regret.
Bfk
So beyond White
360
I’m so beyond white,
I’m clear!
If you dare to draw near,
You’ll notice my insides are plaid,
You must be wondering what kind of upbringing I’ve had.
I’ll cure your modern day malaise,
With my tie-dye gaze,
If you become spellbound by my psychedelic stare,
You might wonder what color you are,
And you probably won’t care.
I know you can’t resist,
My charisma of camouflage,
This is one crazy bullet,
You can’t dodge.
So welcome to my world of unpredictable dappled light,
Where there is no dichotomy in sight!
It’s so beyond white and black,
So far beyond your blues,
You won’t find your way back,
You’ll get lost in the slippery-subtle-side-winding hues.

361
So how can you ascribe a color,
To one who call insanity his mother?
We’re all insanely unique,
Which gives us that see-through mystique,
And no amount of color,
Will ever separate us from each other.
Bfk
Fair Trade
362
You’re trading your friendship for favors,
One of Sleazy’s subtle flavors.
I’m sure you’ll make a great wife,
Trading your body for a comfortable life.
Your marriage contract was written in desperation,
Purchased with the currency of temptation.
You’ll succumb to his hands,
As long as he submits to your demands.
But what will you do,
When his best days are through?
Will you go off in search of a better deal?
Or try to re-negotiate over a fancy meal?
You say that in love and war,
All is fair,
But you can’t tell the difference anymore,
As you trade your scruples for a love affair.
When the amount of affection,
Depends on the amount of restitution,
That’s what society calls prostitution. Bfk

They came to my door

363
They came to my door,
And I couldn’t turn them away,
They would beseech and implore:
“Love us.” Said they.
These odd little thoughts,
That the stillness had wrought,
Wanted in,
And when I opened my door,
The magic would begin.
We would sit down and have tea,
These little thoughts and me.
We would have a nice brunch,
On symbolism and rhymes we would munch.
They came to my door,
And I couldn’t turn them away,
These funny little ideas,
That had gone astray.
I’m so lucky they found a place in my heart,
And settled upon my page.
Bfk

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They Came To My Door

(and I couldn’t turn them away)

© 2011 Benjamin F. Kaye

Even the sun is against us,

Attacking us with ultraviolet,

Making each moment ultraviolent.

Out of all the space invaders,

Simple radiation brings the greatest dangers.

We need to be screened from the sun,

We’re battling the heavens,

Before our day has even begun.

The only sure cure for our electromagnetic blight,

Is to live our lives solely by night.

But even then we wouldn’t be safe from weather woes,

Such as lightning, blizzards, and tornadoes.

Facing atmospheric extremes,

Soon we won’t be able to leave the house at all. Bfk

Your ship has finally come in,

But it promptly sank,

You’ve been promoted,

From the koi pond to the shark tank.

Climbing the company ladder,

Made of pipe cleaners,

Don’t look down,

Or you might see all the other pipe dreamers.

Your friends are all grieving,

Over this opportunity they didn’t take,

Not realizing that it wasn’t an opportunity – it was a mistake.

The promise of success wasn’t real – it was fake.

So you’ve pulled yourself up by your own bootstraps,

Now you’re desperately clinging to your gravy train’s mud flaps.

All your hopes and dreams have unraveled,

You never realized why this path wasn’t so well traveled.

You’re stuck playing the fool’s part,

Instead of chasing what you cherish in your heart.

He who wins the rat race,

Gets dead rats.

We all have stories to tell,

We should tell them,

Even if we don’t tell them well.

Maybe the applause won’t swell,

Your story might not sell,

Perhaps your prose tripped and fell.

But even if your words go south,

Open your mouth.

Let those phrases out,

Don’t be gagged with doubt.

Than an unspoken verse,

The final tragedy that’s always dreaded,

Is when ideas – and feelings - remain embedded.

That town of inanimate inaction,

Where the whole is less than the fraction.

Going off on a tangent,

Motor humming something incoherent,

It’s not like I planned it.

Going along for the meandering ride,

Swept out by the thoughtless tide.

When I get there,