The only good Nazi is one kicking in a death throe. Continue reading “The Rope”
I wrote this poem three years ago. I’m pretty sure I wrote it about someone in particular, although the maelstrom of the past time makes me forgetful. Continue reading “Fortunate Son”
I’m currently reading a book which is affecting me in a way no book has in a while. Continue reading “Upcoming project”
Living a good life is living to tell about it. Continue reading “And after all is said and done”
Eternity lies in those who remember us. Continue reading “And then my mother asked”
One need not believe in a Maker to believe in eternity. Continue reading “Long Past My Death, In the Other World”
Love is the most difficult of all human things.
Young love is where you learn life’s pain. Continue reading “A love affair”
A remembrance of nights in Old Havana.
Continue reading “Before he married”
Among the notes of a forgotten school
This notebook, with its faded pages,
Survived moves and various life changes
In a hidden-away nook,
Ready upon a night, on a cursory look
To be taken up as a useful tool.