372nd month (it’s only life)

The sun it rose

The rose it bloomed

The Years they passed

They said it changed in five

But it’s more like twenty


The Jester Jest


The Joker did his best

The Bishop wept

The proud man lied

While the ego and pride starved

The hippy cried


The middle class was slowly dying ….

But the working man

The partner

The power couple

They keep their heads down and they keep building

Dylan said

It’s life and life only….


I climbed that mountain

To write your name in the wind

So they could spread your seduction

Across Appalachia

Now I’m down from my mountain

To tell the tale


Hear the names

From the ghost


The broken life

From the middle class

Who endured so well

We try to forget the earth the clay

That we all return to someday

But god is on that mountain


The past cries out with every new morning.

Children remember, there’s a cloud of witnesses watching over you…

Who’ve gone on before you-who knows the path so well….

2021 #1

The American people are hurting


Out of work

They are enduring



I’ve watched as professors work door dash every day

Just to keep food on the table

They refuse to give in

They showed up to vote

In the middle of a pandemic


I remember the night the president was elected

My wife cried herself to sleep….

I remember “day 1”

I remember

The speeches the statements

I am reminded of all the opportunities

To step off the train

And I’ve been waiting

But no one has stepped off

I asked myself how this was possible ?

It’s like watching an abused partner make excuses for their abuser


It turned my stomach to see a small portion of white American conservatives act like they are being attacked


They have been duped by a con man

A liar

Let there be no mistake

History will record with the greatest astonishment

That they did not walk away

They stood by their man

Until the end

And they will have to live with themselves for the rest of their lives


They have shown

That his behaviour is presidential

For their daughters

And grand daughters

They have made excuses

For this slow build up that culminated

As any cult does

Into hysteria

We have seen every form of it …

They have been lied to.

It is a cult


Make no mistake

Even for conservatives

This is not America

The American people do not have time to buy in

They are struggling

They are and have been in survival mode

I want us all to be able to dream again

I want us all to build again

To win

I’ve watched and worked in cities

All my life

I know the American people

And we endure

We build

We continue forward

I still believe in this America


I believe what happened for Georgia will be possible in any state

If we get the relief and help out to the American people so they can build

They do not want a handout they want a hand up

A foothold


I don’t have time for cults

For hysteria

And paranoia

Or conspiracy


Call it what it is



We’ve seen and lived through the harvest this reaps


I believe we can do better

We MUST do better

For our children

And their children

For our neighbours

For ourselves


If you were a 14 year old daughter

You are 18 now

Possibly considering marriage

Would you be ok if she brought a sitting con man, jester , clown, abuser home?

Would you really?

Be ok leaving them in the room with him alone?

Or on a trip with him in a car alone?


I’ve sat in the room with men who abuse women and I’ve fired them….

Every single one has had an excuse

There are countless excuses

Everybody has them….

Let me say this


I am tired

And I have no room for excuses

It’s time to build

It’s time to dream

It’s time to heal

It’s time to move forward

This never happened

We have to move forward

We have to get relief to our country

The world is watching

Future leaders are watching

Our daughters and our sons are watching

It’s up to us to discern truth

To discern placement

And value

Not social media

Not businesses

We have to do better

We can

We should

We are Americans

We have a personal responsibility

To bring authentic excellence

For our future


It’s bright

We are going to be ok

If we do the work

If we do the work

We will be moving forward

It’s the small details

It’s the living rooms

It’s the families

It’s the you and the me

It’s the professor

It’s the teacher

It’s the clerk

It’s the associate

Getting up at 2:30 am

It’s the business owner

It’s the pastor

The priest

The Muslim

The Christian the agnostic

It’s all of us

We all are Americans

And we all have made it this far

And we all


Are building

And I’m proud

I’m proud to have worked beside you

I’m proud to have lived among you

I’m proud

To be an American

Because we choose our future

And we can decide.


Writers log #32

I tried writing several posts the last two days….

But none of them seemed good…

I’m trying to stay positive

But I’m behind on all of my bills

I mean, who isn’t…

I’m working from 1:30 am to 9pm

Two sometimes 3 jobs and I no it will work out

But I keep waking up with pain in my face and chest…my heart racing …

I can’t sleep…

I am so worried

And I feel like I’m impatient

And I need to slow down

But I (sigh) I don’t know what to do …

I’m trying to stay positive and not worry and not vent

I know i can vent and overload

The plan is working

It’s just slow

There’s progress

It’s just slow

And it will be ok

It will be ok


I’m thankful


Living with crohns

Is like well, yeah.

But I’m thankful that I’ve made it this far.

That I’ve been able to keep working

That I’ve not had a flare so bad I was forced to stay home or go to the hospital

Or pass blood

Or any other number of things that are far too gross to go in to detail about…

I don’t have insurance right now

I can’t take medicine right now because of that…

So I’m thankful

That I’m able to keep working

Towards my goals ….

For all the good.

I’m thankful

For the mornings

I’m thankful for the beauty

I’m thankful

And if I’ve been harsh

Or volatile

Or fixed in my vision

I often feel the need to apologise


I think I will always be hungry

I will always be chasing

I’m not the same as

Other people I’ve known

I’m restless

And I’m at a pivotal moment in my life

Other people want to buy cars

And homes

I just want food

And to invest in something that will grow

Not buy a car….

My hope is that my future self

Will be thankful too

That my future self will be proud.

I went to Cleveland to make contacts

In six months I could be anywhere.

Making more money than I’ve ever seen.

But this morning I counted out four dollars in change to get gas.

I think it’s important to remember where you came from.

I remember working with my dad when I was six. We would get up early in the morning and go sell produce. You could smell the corn and the tomatoes and the watermelons. We cut grass and we sold tools. We did whatever we could.

I remember going to food banks and the cans had government labels on them. They were not attractive or marketable. They were blank. Bland colours.

We pretended we were soldiers and it was our rations.

I keep remembering all of these things from the past…

And I’m just thankful.

That I’ve made it this far.

No matter what happens.

The Works of Man

The bible says somethin’ about the Holy Spirit leaving the earth near the last days…how hard it is for man after that.

That’s what I thought of when I saw her…

Her face was black and not even blue, just broken and taped back together…

She couldn’t even wince from the pain of walking, she was stiff like our grandfather…and stood like a crow bar.

She was 25.

When we left the hospital, we went to get her things. From the garbage excuse of a trailer, he was supposed to be at work…

But I guess that’s how these things and men and the way of young love goes…

They’re accountable for nothing…not even an 11 dollar an hour job.

I remember her clothes had black patches of sweat and mold in them.

They smelled of cigarettes

The kitchen table was dirty from the residue.

The place smelled of that smell you only get from a broken refrigerator…

I opened it just to make sure ,

There in the center of all that rotten was last nights box of take out…

“Ugh What the hell…”

I had to find the bathroom and quick

There were holes in the wall all the way down the hall…I turned in to wash my face….

The shower was black and molded

The water was off…

I kicked the lid to the toilet open

Before I started vomiting

It hit me in the face like a train

No water

Packed full of shit


Why the hell did she stay here?

He kicked her around and around


He came stumbling in angrier than a starved dog…

Knife in his hands

Gun in his belt

I grabbed the knife by the blade and kicked him across the room

He took off in his car, but didn’t make it far…

He wrestled for a while with the locals and kicked a few down

He drew his gun

And started cursing about my sister and how he owned her

There was a fence he had crashed into

A tamping pole or rod leaning against it

I picked it up and ran it through his foot

“Shut up for once in your life.”

He cried all the way to jail.

I kept thinking about that verse

All of her hurts

Why men do what we do

And what kind of man

Can live with that?

Maybe it’s a different kind of evil…

My father killed men in the war

And his father too

I thought about that as I set another charge on a tree.


He was spitting and cursin’ as we brought him down in the thicket.

“You can’n’t kill me! They’re gunna fine out ‘bout it! Yew stupid idgit! She’s MINE I will have what’s MINE!

Married before GOD and everybody ! “

“Oh I’m not going to kill you…God might…but I won’t …the wolves might…but me? I’m just going to hurt you…if you die…it’s up to a higher power than me…now the sheriff, he’s gonna think you ran again, You know, like you did my sister…when you made her run and you played your little hunting games?….you better run…”

I raised my gun…and the headlights…

He made it a few paces I guess…

The last I heard were some obscenities

Then I charged the blasts

the trees exploded around him

I thought about her and the Holy Ghost and the war and the 4th of July…

beyond the light

Just beyond the light

There is tomorrow

Another line

Another page

A story yet untold

That only you can tell

In your unique way


Our youth

Fields of grain

Too many intersections

And not enough time


We lived and we tried to feel love

As it was sold to us

We tried to be something




I felt the shift

I felt myself losing tune

Yes tune

We rang loud

And out of tune

We lost touch with people


We looked to our palms

And our timelines

But it told us nothing of our times

Twitter is not real

Facebook is not real

It does not give you the supper table

The summer mornings

In the south

The green stalks of corn

The ice storms in winter

The kerosine Heat


We live and die in the hashtag

But we haven’t grown up to maturity

Poverty is more than we can comprehend

It’s a relationship to money

It’s habits

It’s not just wanting and not having


These lives just beyond the light

The gift of life

Look past the last headlines

What we are

We are here




More than politics

More than religion

More …


“Be what you were…”

I look at art

At words


From the 90s

And I feel a disconnect

I don’t know this person

This person doesn’t know me

I can’t see the tv from across the room

I keep moving my couch closer and pretending it doesn’t matter ….

Pictures give us words


We are textured






Can you downsize the American dream?

We can find answers in 5g speed

We are born with a cellular plan

But we don’t know our neighbour

A pastors struggle on Monday morning


Are we red and blue state ?


People vote, or don’t vote, for various reasons.

One Party is the single issue party. Or the anti vax, anti mask, lower tax…don’t take my guns?

No, one party is the American dream, Reagan party, read, communicate, write, dream, love your country, write your wife love letters from across the room. You’re groomed from a young age to vote red.

The business owner. Trying to dream.

The other is college kids, millennials, like it or not, woke, sensitive to every issue, minority, apologising, how will the kids make it during this economy?

Most of us are somewhere in the middle not on the fringes…who’ve lived through a handful of economic collapses…

Most of us have lost someone to this virus…

I was talking with a nurse and she was telling me of the horror of a patient dying…of the horror that people still think this is a hoax, the fact that these patients are protected by privacy laws and this creates a gap…and we will never know…but they know…and for them…this is a nightmare…

Now, what do people vote on?

Somewhere in the middle.

We have more in common than we think.

The whole silence is violence

be woke to every single new thing ….

that’s a big tab…

the answer to winning votes and states

is not be the most liberal…

it’s connecting to the country.

We are all Americans.

Unplug from social media,

You can block and unfollow each-other all day long but these are real people with real lives and real votes and they are not going anywhere, they’re our neighbours our mothers our siblings.

what do we all have in common.

Return to the vision. Return to common sense, adulthood …

you can build a platform and a table with room for everyone.

We can’t go back…we go forward…beyond the light…or we fade into oblivion…

Francis Cash #17

Francis: have you seen the news!

Ethan: What did I tell you about watching the news…

Francis: It’s the end of the worlds…there’s no point of snax anymore.

Ethan: Then don’t read the news.

Ethan: Listen, your reason for snax, was made up by guys like me. To sell snax. There’s never been a point to anything.

Francis: You stole that from Adsmen.

Ethan: 1st it’s madmen and yes, because it’s true. The only thing you’re competing with is yourself.

Francis: So I should zoom faster and take more naps?

Ethan: sure:

Out of mind

There’s a man

Going around

Passing out promises

Gold and silver too

But the success

Never reaches down this far


They won’t follow you down

And every woman I know

Works harder than two men

And they love

And they bleed

And they sew up our needs

And like Cash said

“When the man comes around”

Well, they won’t follow you down

So we fight

And we survive

Even when our paychecks

Barely make it through

What else are we to do

The silver and gold

Doesn’t come down this far

But they pass it around

With promises too

But they won’t follow you down


And I

I can’t write

My head is filled with clouds

I try to sit

But I can’t breathe

I watch the colour in the trees

And I think

About the dumpster on the side of the road where we used to get shoes and we used to get books…

And I think

About time

I hope I’ve used mine


I think about the old man

Who lived in a school bus

And had a teenager for a wife

Her eyes said she had escaped something worse

A sort of curse

But I was too young to understand

Now, I think as I try to write, what good am I? What good am I?

If we can’t listen

If we look away

What good am I

And what good have I done …

A clouded head is part of Crohn’s

Just like the ache in the bones

The shouting stomach

The anxiety and the depression

I write about it but I can’t talk about it

And you’ll never see it

I guess

We all are just stories in the end

And we want what we want

And we say it sets us apart

And we expect others to know

But part of us stays on the road

Because even we don’t know…

And all we have is time…


I think we forget

What it was really like

Two wars

A collapsing economy

Faster than the Great Depression

The month he took office

We had lost 800,000 jobs

Just in that month

Within a year

We had jobs growing instead of losing

Tech and globalization

Education and healthcare costs

Economy bubbles


By investors

How do you build something that works for everyone?

One wife

A reader

A picture of the american dream

The promise that you could

Work hard and reach any dream

But we were not ok with that

How do you figure out a way to process truths


If we live through


Through a phone

That build on our biases

Polarizing us

Watching only media that puts us in a bubble …

How do we value truth ? And facts ?

Character and honor

This is not Reagan country

This is not Kennedy country

This is not Mayberry

They would not recognize us

They would not be proud of us ….

Human decency and respect and empathy

Should be base value

But it is not here…

What happened to the values that carried us here?

The basic values

Be honest

Be kind

Treat everyone with respect

Work hard

What happened to us?

How can we


Would Christ still say

“Forgive them for they know not what they do?”

When we say things like

“We knew what he was.”


If my ex wife or a woman is vulgar

Or loud

It’s wrong

But if a man does it

It’s presidential

How do we come back from this

We are so divided

And how

Can we pray ??

When we say things like

“This man was put here by god,to stop communism…”

I thought we wanted smaller government ?

This is not Reagan country

This is not a shining city on a hill

We are unrecognisable


I still believe

In the seeds

In the ability to believe in ourselves

And our communities

We can return

And we can

Meet the cause

Should Christ have refused the cross?


Our fathers

Refused to storm the beaches of Normandy?

We’ve never been here before

Because we have


That we don’t even understand

And it’s using

Our own weaknesses against us

But we keep looking for an intruder

Liberty has fallen

We shaved her head in the marketplace

A spectacle

For the world to see

And they will remember

How we’ve acted

What we’ve said

And how we defended ourselves

And reasoned and split our minds in half ….

How do you back pedal?

You can’t


Trying to find the census Russia smudged

Because it showed the unnatural death count

In the 30s

So they shot the census takers

Here we are 33k deaths in the US



Businesses closing

How do we move forward ?

What happened to chivalry

To classic badassery?

To rising to the challenge ?


We are more than masses

Blue states,red states, we are more…

Our parents lost jobs in the first recession

They lost homes

We are survivors

We are Americans

The Crisis of man

Thoughts on aging in the coming age

It’s cold, 39 degrees. I turned on my heat this morning, I’ve tried to not think about it. But like the moon landing, I couldn’t help it,

I think…

What must it be like to go so far. To only find dust, and isolation?

for four years, I’ve tried to watch and observe…

I was married, I’m now divorced…

Women without men are an idea, women with men are a complication…

We altogether are a complication. A mood in itself.

We post on dating apps, photos of ourselves in Egypt and camping and we want a man with a car, a house, a job, a pleasant disposition. And he has to make us laugh…

But he’s too short, he’s too round, his eyebrows are too thick…

I can’t take you to Egypt, I hate camping…I like my solitude…

I haven’t played a video game since 2004

Can I just cook you dinner, play a record, dance with you and tell you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever seen?

We want absolutes

But we want to be accepted

But we have requirements


You reach a certain age, maybe it’s just me…

You reach a place, you take stock of your life…

What have you really achieved?

Are you what you want?

How does one maintain faith?

It feels so far away…

How did the astronauts handle

Something so grand

Becoming “fake.”

How does one live ….

Age to age …



We vote

I’ve watched

As we use an algorithm

I’ve watched as we do not talk

To each other

I’ve asked myself how our children

And our youth will remember this

What have we taught them

Shown them

What example

What do they consider presidential?

Honorable ?


What is life?

What does a leader look like?


To our children

To the young people

To the rest of the world

I think about how I grew and changed

And what I have been impressed with

Over time

And my heart has ached for so long

For the young people


For what the new leaders

Across the globe

What impressions are we leaving

What are we saying?


Tomorrow and I feel


through most of December

The world will be on its toes

The money making machine of american headlines


But how do we go from here?

We’ve screamed

We’ve marched

We’ve demonstrated

We’ve left our kids at home

We’ve thrown more work on them

We’re gutted


It’s not the degrees

It’s the regular jobs that carry us

The ones we looked down on

It’s not the student debt

Or the bank account

It’s the ability to stay calm

Under pressure

It’s the ability to process information

The ability to think

And make a decision


Something is amiss

within my faith


Within myself


I seek solitude


We used to have Hollywood as a job

Now it’s a bubble that tells us what we should do,

Social media

This algorithm


demands rights

And puts our vulgarity on our forehead like we are screwing on the table at thanksgiving…

And vulgarly demands that the family and the world be ok with it…

It leaves nothing to the imagination.

We can’t miss a paycheck

If we do we are homeless

None of the people I know

None of the minorities I know

Are even resembling of this nature


Yet we continue to use the algorithm

When it doesn’t even reflect us

We say everyone has shown their true colours this year, that’s just not true

Everyone has always shown us their colours…we just didn’t want to hear them or see them…because we wanted them to be what we wanted them to be.

The algorithm simply shows us what we want to see…

We wanted the same for us too…

This is the crisis…

The crisis of ….

Of humankind.


To be without faith

Without honor

Without drive

Without ambition

Without privacy

Is to be empty


Surely there is something left of honor

Of privacy

Of respect

Of character

Of faith…

I do not know

I look to the sky

And I pray

But I can’t find anything

You see

Truth is something we are meant to discern not the media or the newspaper or social media or apps

Or smoke signals

But our eyes and hearts and minds


What is presidential?

What is decency ?

What is character ?


I envy the self that writes this and does not know of tomorrow or election results or headlines

So much of our government relies on the honor system

And if it is abused

So much can go away and be re written

And we understand so little of this


Space is cold

It’s vast and it’s dark

And so is my heart

It began years ago

In small stages

Small misgivings

I wanted a family

I wanted a home

I wanted to love and cherish and be loved and cherish

I wanted to take care of someone

To have this purpose



I only want this solitude

To disappear

To fade away

To understand what purpose is …

The world is raging

I hope we can find ourselves

I hope we can stop for a moment

I hope we can look up

And ask for help.

Death is real and random

We are but a moment

And hate

And greed

And this crisis

Is too much

Maybe you reach a certain age

And it happens to everyone

Where they feel like the new generation has everything wrong



Right now

I feel like none of us are ourselves

I feel like we’ve all been duped

Even the best of us…

Maybe it’s just me….

I feel like we are in a bad dream

And the acid rain is falling

And the church bells are ringing

And the boots are on the ground

And the ashes are drifting like snow

From the ovens over the ridge


They are about to show us the ovens

Used to cook our brothers

And we are about to hold napkins over our mouthes and breathe

“I didn’t know, I didn’t believe….”



I fear

What reason did we have to build this machine?

What purpose?

What crisis

How did we get here


You reach a point

And you ask

What have I really achieved

I’m not any of the things I wanted to be

I’m still empty

I’m still void

After such ambition

Of youth

Do we look back

Only to see the void


Coldness of life

And see


We can’t stand the silence

We can’t even sit with it

We can’t even walk with it

Or drive with it …

We can’t sit with ourselves ….

God help us.