philosophy

Reprieves And Lost Causes

Let’s get this straight, people who seek simple answers are stupid. The ones who say, “Just repeat this mantra, just take this pill, go to this church, become a vegan, do yoga, read this book, join this party, attend this meeting, be affiliated, be indoctrinated, surrender yourself to a cult, follow this preacher, prophet, shaman, sacrifice your individualism, follow these steps, support this program and on and on into perpetuation. If anyone offers you simple solutions to the myriad of life challenges, immediately run in the opposite direction. Nobody’s gonna save you———except you!

Get this through your complacent brainwashed mind, “Life ain’t simple and surely not easy”. It’s filled with tough decisions, difficult questions and complex choices. Furthermore, life is unfair. Innocent children unexplainably die while evil murders on death-row live out long heathy lives——it’s infuriating! These dreadful thoughts keep me up at night. What kind of god creates a universe that approves such horror, inequality——such depravity. 

There was a time many years ago when there were only three TV networks to choose from (ABC, NBC and CBS). There were two types of bread, white or wheat. You were either a Chevy person or a Ford person. You were a Beatle fan or a Beach Boy’s fan. You either watch CNN or Fox News. There was a time when we only required one hour of nightly news to cover the local and national fresh batch of calamities. 

Nothing is simple anymore. Is “more” always better? Maybe the Amish have it right with their horse-drawn buggies, silly bonnets and goofy black hats? Maybe enlightenment is more achievable for the Zen Monk living alone in a cave in the Himalayas, no distractions, no facebook, no TikTok, no porn. Is ignorance bliss? Was Socrates right when he said “unexamined life is not worth living”. Are the stupid people happier than the seekers? It’s so much easier to be stupid and happy rather than struggling to find yourself, to be “woke” (whatever that means?) 

Now a days, we want to see, hear and know everything. We watch with glee as our heroes fall from grace. Does the tragedies of others make us feel better about our lackluster lives? Life is no longer lived, it’s processed, deep fried, homogenized, propagandized.  We watch life through a porthole, secretly peering into others Social Network realities. We seek out others in an echo chamber that supports our beliefs. We’re overloaded with conspiracies, truthiness and artificial intelligence (oxymoron). There are now computer apps that can be programed to write college thesis papers, compose music and create original paintings. I don’t know what original means anymore. Is there an algorithm for originality? For beauty? For reality? For Love? 

What’s real, what’s illusion. What’s true and what’s bullshit? It’s all up to you because the future is up for grabs. There’s no longer a truth filter or bullshit detector. We live in a world of contradictions and complications. I don’t know about you, but I’m pissed off. Why you might ask? 

The rich pay no taxes while the rest of us fight over table scraps. Politicians sit on their asses and do nothing while our children are slaughtered in another mass shooting. We have resources to better feed and house the homeless but yet there are more starving people living on the streets than ever before. We have better medications available to save lives but pharmaceutical companies charge more than what the sick can afford. We have science that has revealed the imminent dangers of global warming, yet our governments and industries fail to implement changes that will reduce the greenhouse effect. 

This one life given, should be better lived.

Sometimes it’s a curve ball

A dear John letter

A tire with a slow leak

A misfire

Ruble and ashes

Simplicity lost

Regretful goodbyes

Cold left overs

Prayers and futility

Unexpected farewells

Stained excuses

Potholes and apologies

Pretend love

Leached out success

Players and fakers

Listing ships

Death by loneliness

Silent betrayal

Orphaned dreams

Waiting on nothing

On no one

Self forgiven

Forgotten promises

Stubborn solitude

Watered down desire

Driving alone

Getting nowhere

Squelched confessions

July Snowstorm

Unhappy endings

Reprieves and Lost Causes 

Love Is In The Small Things

I hold her hand

So nervous like the first time

She offers me a gentle smile

It hides a trace of pain

2 Days mean more

When they’e numbered

I can’t imagine my days Here 

Living without her

3 She use to make my meals

Use to mend my clothes 

Now there’s only shadows 

Where she made a small house our home

4 The sounds of laughing children

Once filled these empty rooms

The best of times in our life

We danced and laughed and struggled through

Those were the days

Even if we didn’t know it

Love is in the small things

Seldom seen and often go unnoticed 

1 She wants to walk in the garden

But her legs have grown weak

I help her to the window 

She shuffles her feet

2 Holding hands in silence 

Siting in the setting sun (ya see)

Love doesn’t belong 

Only to the young

3 Sunday drives in the country

Picnics by the lake

It doesn’t seem that long ago

But time moves on, refuses to wait

4 Whispers a Hail Mary

Tells me there’s angel circling

She can hear them calling

Calling her name

5 I kiss her forehead, and say

If you must go, I understand

What will I do without my sweetheart

Who I shared my life, hand in hand

Those were the days

Even if we didn’t know it

Love is in the small things

Seldom seen or noticed 

Duct Tape And Hope

Life is fleeting, time can be cruel, money has wings——and in the end what matters most are the seemingly insignificant forgotten moments. It’s the ones who we surround ourselves with that matters, the ones who make us laugh at ourselves and help us to untether from this claustrophobic existence. Those honest ones, who in spite of ourselves cause us to wanna be a better person. But in the end we’re exposed as frauds and not what we had hoped to be.—- Hope is duct tape.

Unrealized dreams, fitful nights, trust betrayed, falling through that trapdoor in a used up life. Illogically, love is something that comes from nothing, like the meandering melancholy melodies of Chet Bakers trumpet on the tune “My Funny Valentine”. 

How can something so simple tie knots in tangled hearts. How many lives are wrapped within one life. Ends become beginnings. Promises and vows are watered down “what use to be’s”. Sadly, there are no second chances, only the impulsive choices we must now learn to live with. 

Loneliness makes its home in the heart of old loves that in time have become contrite.

Music and Aliens

Thanks for taking the time to listen to my music. I don’t expect any great revelations or scathing critiques. It’s just nice to know that my music is being listened to by someone out there in that big ole universe.
Perhaps, once a sound wave of music is made, it goes off into infinity, passing by silent stars, forgotten planets and yet unnamed galaxies. Maybe an alien will come across the sound wave and find themselves happily tapping their foot to the beat—–wouldn’t that be nice.
Music is one of the few things that brings order to the chaos—-and for a brief moment provides refuge to the weary.
So my good friend, open up your ears and heart and take a peek at the sound of my soul……
P.S. I’m big on planet Zaltar—-ha ha
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Education and Knick-Knacks

This piece is dedicated to a good friend and talented teacher—-Roberta

A complete education teaches critical thinking, non conformity, risk taking and personal accountability. It teaches students to think for themselves and to follow facts not opinions. This requires students to become well rounded in their quest for knowledge and truth. What good is it if a student studies nuclear physics but has no appreciation for the frailties of humanity. What good is it to study philosophy but to not be given the tools to decipher right from wrong. What good it is to study history if you can’t apply it to solving todays social issues. As the saying goes, “Those that fail to learn from history are destine to repeat it”. An education should prepare students to answer the most difficult questions. This includes questions regarding morality, social justice, racism, global warming, political ideals and religion—-to only name a few.

The core purpose of education is not to receive a piece of paper that states a student has completed a series of classes and successfully passed a list of required tests. Education should provide students with the tools and skills to become contributing members of their communities. Compassion and empathy should be a common thread that runs through the curriculum of all subjects and disciplines. This is more true today than ever before.

I’ve dedicated over twenty years of my life to serve as an educator. It’s been an honor to have touched so many lives. I’ve always prided myself in being a motivator and mentor who sought to help each and every one of my students reach their highest potential. I’ll always carry with me the memories of my high achieving students but in some ways, I’ll remember the students who had to struggle and fight to meet their goals even more so. Sometimes what they needed more than anything was for someone to believe in them. That is something not taught in books, but rather given as a gift. These fond memories put a smile on my face. No one can ever take that from me.  

So, I leave here with a cardboard box of mementoes. Some silly knick knacks, a coffee cup and twenty years of student pictures, poems and old flyers advertising plays and concerts. I even have a couple of plaques that recognized me for a job well done. Such a bitter sweet feeling. I’m acutely aware of the sound of my footsteps as they echo down the deserted hall for the finale time. I slowly turn around and whisper, “Farewell old friend”.  

Two Ticks Of A Clock

Between two ticks of a clock

A baby inhales its first breath

Between two ticks of a clock

An old man exhales his last threats

Between two ticks of a clock

Lives may be changed, forever swallowed up

Between two ticks of a clock

Names and days may forever be forgotten 

Between two ticks a clock

Someone falls in love for the first time

Between two ticks of a clock

Someone falls out of love for the last time

Between two ticks of a clock

Entire lives pass by

Between two ticks of a clock

Entire lives slip and lose their grip

Between to ticks of a clock

Everything can change

Between two ticks of a clock

Everything dangles in an abyss 

Between two ticks of a clock

Anything and everything is possible

Between two ticks of a clock

Everything conspires into nothing

Scream-Breathe

There’s no reward for a life well lived

There’s only the conquering of midnight thoughts and defeating those loathed barbed days 

Inhale——-exhale——inhale——exhale——sigh

Time has sun baked our souls and left craters and wrinkles deep in our faces, that mirror like a river refuses to be damned or tamed——-inhale-exhale-sigh

Once young and untested she gave her body to me 

I took it and imagined it would always be this way

But I was wrong, now-a-days the destination is seldom worth the journey—exhale-exhale-sigh

Were we ever that young, that hopeful, so foolish and immortal inhale-exhale-sigh 

Love has a life of it’s own

It lives, it dies

No one knows its life span—exhale-exhale-sigh

It morphs into memories of sun kissed spring days

Time lays in-wait, slipping by, steadily unwinding

Self-doubt is contagious, and it will kill you

Just when you think you have it all figured out

It changes direction—inhale-exhale-sigh

No more listening to boring dweebs yammer on about their views, their values, their beliefs, their god—their rights 

Nobody gives a shit about your petty proclamations, I said nobody, nobody cares asshole!—exhale-inhale—sigh

STOP!  Stop blathering on about your politics, your Jesus, your conspiracy theories and the price of gas and how it was so much better back in the “good ole days”-inhale-exhale-scream!!!!!

Inventing Colors

Art is everywhere, but most only see it when it’s put in a fancy frame, installed in an art show or defined as such by pretentious critics’. I do love art. I love Bukowski and Kerouac….Their pens like divining rods, separating raw sewage from raw beauty.  Some people breakdown playing the piano into a math problem, into intervals and the frequency of notes on a page, but that’s missing the point of playing the piano. Why paint by numbers when there’s so much more waiting outside the lines. Doodle, scribble, close your eyes and let the music flow through you, out of you, into you——like a new color that’s yet to be discovered. 

At The Speed Of Foreverness 

In spite of our long days and the swiftness of these passing years 

We’ve reluctantly grown old
Old as in running out of time
The potholed street of aging leads to a cul de sac of convalescence 

Age robs us of youths vanities
It rubs our hair off, dulls our eyesight and deafens our hearing
We slowly cave in on ourselves

We can no longer get by on our sexiness or youthful bravado 
We’re left with a fading wit and the shreds of a once charmed personality

This leaves some bitter, while others are liberated 
There’s nothing more attractive than someone who no longer gives a shit about what others think of them

Shriveled skin, brittle bones, hemorrhoids and varicose veins ain’t so bad

It’s the fading of memories and the onset of feeble mindedness that leaves us befuddled

There’s that moment of confusion when we enter a room and forget what we needed there, or what we were looking for, or even why we came there in the first place???

But, I’ll fight like hell to forever remember your face