Tuesday, July 26, 2011


I am going to work today. Then I have 2 days off. Then I work Friday. Then I have 9 days off for my 10 year wedding anniversary. During most of my vacation, I will visit Arizona, specifically the Superstition Mountains, to conduct further research into my novel. I finished a significant part of my story, the first 30 pages, but I have reached a point in the book where I must pay even closer attention to detail. I love authors like Dan Brown and Robert Ludlum whose books draw me in and make me feel like I am actually there. I am sure these men spent time in the places they wrote about and I intend to do the same thing in my books. I may even post some pictures of my trip, especially the scenic part during my research. Between my poems that I work on, I am also writing my book every day. I cannot wait to share it with you, but I must. Otherwise it will not be as fun.

Monday, July 25, 2011



The drums got the bass
And they keep the beat
The guitar adds to the song
And makes it sound sweet
The singer adds words
And gives the song meaning
The song reaches out to you
And makes you want to sing
The three together
Make it sound grand
When they all work together
The product is a band

Sunday, July 24, 2011

Thought Limitation

Thought Limitation (written in the 1990s)


Saturday, July 23, 2011

I Love You Mom

I Love You Mom (from 1994)

Mom is there to love and care
And tuck you in at night
She pampers you when you are hurt
And makes you feel alright
She’s the one you mostly miss
And long to feel her gentle kiss
She prays for you and stays with you
When you have had a nightmare
No matter what the trouble is
Mom will always be there

What Good Would it do?

This was written in 1994 when I was 14 years old.

What Good Would it do?

What good would it do
if I ran away?
How would it help me
to this very day?
I know it would cause
more bad than good.
It would cause more grief
than anyone should
have to put up with
throughout their life.
Noone should have to
cope with the strife.
What good would it do
if I started to smoke?
What do I think?
Do I think it’s a joke?
It’s not really funny.
In fact not at all.
If I was a smoker
I would start to fall.
Fall as in
to go down hill.
Go downhill as in
lose all of my skill.
What good would it do
if I caused more grief?
How would it help
if I turned a new leaf?
How would it help
to be in someone else’s shoes.
How would it help?
What good would it do?

Friday, July 22, 2011

Cacophony of Constantly Coughing Kids

This piece was first published as a Facebook status update 4/28/11 when my wife and I and my two sons all had walking pneumonia. It is 100% true. I was actually eating cold cantaloupe while writing this.

Raphael is confiding in the crown-capping, corporation-kowtowing, cutlery-cupping, cockroach-crushing, crap-kicking, calf-castrating, cow-killing, caliper-calibrating, caravan-casting, car-chroming, coin-compensating, code-cracking, cuticle-clipping, corn-cultivating, coupon-cutting, creditcard-collecting, carol-crooning, calendar-checking, card-creasing, course-cramming, creature-collecting, collie-calling, cat-cuddling, concerned, capitalist country that he is…

…currently cornered on the couch consuming cold cantaloupe while being cajoled by a cacophony of constantly coughing kids carrying and catapulting cantankerous, colluding, clingy critters who are comfortably and contentedly camping in their craniums and carpooling cunningly through cartilage in their collarbones to their coccyges creating carnage that cannot be canceled unless a courageous captain cleverly conceives how to conclude the carnage through a careful campaign of codeine, consoling, comforting, and cold-presses that coincidentally is completely catastrophic for the conniving, crappy little con-artists….

…At least there’s no crying from the couple of cute, cuddly children sipping cool water out of colorful crazy, company-created contraptions: cups.  

Wake Up Late

Wake up late, groggy
Rush through a shower
Skip breakfast, no time
Slip on shoes without socks
Speed on the freeway
Don't swear at red lights
because they allow time
to get ready for work
Walk quickly through parking lot
trying to look professional
Get inside, check in
right on time

Breathe a sigh of relief
Make idle promise
never to stay up so late again

My earliest poetry - Nature


The sky so blue
The birds in the trees
The grass so green
The flowers, the bees
The mountains so high
The rivers, the streams
The ponds and the lakes
that glisten and gleam
The plants and the wildlife
The moon and the sun
They all fit together
and they become one,

Thursday, July 21, 2011

My earliest poetry - Haiku

I began writing poetry when I was 14 years old. Most of my early poetry was written in 1994. I excelled at rhyme and meter. I liked rules when it came to language. I also had just enough trouble in my life to inject real emotion at times. It was quite sophomoric, but hey, I wouldn’t be a sophomore for a few more years. I guess that means I was ahead of my time. I want to share my early work a little bit at a time. Today is Haiku day. Enjoy.


Contrary to some belief
Everyone must leave

The powerful wolf
Stalks his prey with great caution
Then springs, chases, closes, kills

A wise man thinks much
He ponders about nature
And how man fits in

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Running Into Trouble

A woman sprinted up a narrow trail in the Superstition Mountains of central Arizona. She leaped over large rocks as she ascended the tan-colored goliaths. Her heavy breathing filled the early morning air as her sandals pushed desert gravel.  A light brown lizard scurried from atop a rock and settled under a bush. She didn’t acknowledge the small creature; there was no time. The Arizona desert gets quite cold overnight—cold to reptiles. Cammi concentrated on the summit. It was out of site, but not out of mind. She had learned to focus on long runs, especially with a race coming up so soon. This was a speed workout, not a leisurely jog. She pushed herself harder, knowing that this was her last hill-workout before the 100-Mile race in Leadville, Colorado next week. The summit came into sight. She dug deep. She had been pushing herself hard the entire way, but she still had a little left. She sped up, practically sprinting the last 300 yards. Her heart pounded. Her lungs ached. She loved that feeling; and she embraced the fatigue. This is it, she thought. With one last surge she reached the top and began walking immediately. The mountaintop was flat and, apart from cacti every few feet, quite clear. True to its name, the top of Flat Iron Mountain looked like an upside down iron. The flat area, roughly the size of a football field, curved on both sides and came to a point. Each edge was a sheer drop hundreds of feet down. She was alone, the way she preferred it. She was always heading back down the mountain before others arrived. Arizona was relatively cooler before eight in the morning. She would rest a few more minutes before heading back down.  From the summit she could see several miles in every direction. Houses were now only a few miles away; they seemed to grow out of the desert like weeds. Soon, they would creep right up to the edge of the mountain, but for now, Cammi simply enjoyed the view. 

Just as she was turning away from the edge a glimpse of motion caught her eye. A yellow convertible sped into the parking lot and skidded to a stop at the trailhead followed closely by a blue SUV. The blue SUV stopped directly behind the yellow convertible boxing it in. A large man in a red shirt jumped out and began running up the trail with three men in pursuit. The fleeing man kept looking back at the pursuers and stumbling on the loose dirt. One of the menacing figures pointed an arm up the trail and the victim collapsed immediately. A second later she heard a thunder clap. They immediately began looking around to see if anyone on the mountain had heard the sound. Cammi ducked then crawled away from the cliff. 
*   *   *
With twists and turns this story is rarely what it seems on the surface. Set in the Arizona desert just outside Phoenix, this action adventure follows a world-class runner in her journey to exact revenge on her attackers.