Thursday, February 26, 2015


No logic can explain away
The fear we feel on certain days
No words, no teasing, no commands
Change our fear of what's at hand

As a child I often wondered
Was I scared because I ran
Or ran because of fear
I couldn't understand

I only knew as a child
At dark I would not run
Because the faster I went
The more scared I'd become.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015


In the past we busted ass
To dig that six foot hole
No more no less
The depth was blessed
Laws said
It must be so

My father feared
Being buried alive
I almost put a bell
In his hand so he
Would know I
Listened for the knell

No embalming
No pre-view of death
No stones were piled
Upon the grave
To keep
Wild animals away

For in the past
Graves didn't last
High waters
Wild animals
All took away

Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
I think in death
We may discover
It's not an ending
Simply an Other

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

My Version of Where's Waldo

Find the dogs is a game I play every day.
 Two are in the fossil field.
One near the rock
Two exploring here
One by the stump
Two smelling tracks
One in the foreground
One looking back
Finding water...can you find them?
Bonnie taking a swim.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Coulrophobia, A Fear of Clowns (Rated: Gross and Horrible)

For Magpie Tales with Tess Kincaid

John Wayne Gacy liked young boys
He played rough and then destroyed
Promises lured them inside
Gacy gave them a ride
And Pogo was filled with joy

Thirty-three he did whack
While forcing them on their back
Ropes or boards at their throats
Gleefully, cheerfully, he did gloat
No one knew he was a maniac

Finally caught way too late
Under his house graves did wait
Hauled to jail and tried for murder
Gacy was a multiple disturber
By lethal injection he met his Fate
Perhaps the most chilling image of Gacy of all
(Chicago Tribune)

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Farewell to Phil

Guess who we're having for dinner?
You may know him by Phil
He's the ground hog
That saw his shadow
Some think he caused this winter chill

So a few of us got together
And stormed Phil's home
The snow had made us wild
We listened not to protests
Of Phil's poor wife and child

In a flash we had him skinned
Hanging up to chill
His wife and child
Stood and cried
Saying farewell to Phil

When all was said and done
We felt a little shame
There hung poor Phil
He was not to blame
No take backs in this game

After the crowd quieted
We build a huge bonfire
We divided poor Phil
So every one had a bite
Of the roasted sire

Guilt over came us
Gathering his family close
Tried to make it better
From his fur
We made them coats.

Linked to Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.