The Wood Brothers are playing,
I’m back in Williamsburg
In the heat of a swampy Tidewater day.

It’s raining outside,
A cool Pennsylvania New Year’s Eve rain
And that delta blues groove is drawing me in.

I could be sitting next to the James
With the wind blowing lightly,
The spirit of Carter’s Grove as conflicted as ever.

The land fit for a king,
Supported on the forced servitude of slaves,
Evolved into a sanctuary for me.

And The Wood Brothers are tapping into that energy
Sending my soul to that place where I care
The one where I wish I could wave my hands to erase history

The history of slavery,
The history of doubt,
The one where my head spins without reason.

Truth is those cool breezes spoke to me,
I knew they were telling me things could be better
For us, for me

That people could get along,
That I could be cool with me,
That New Year’s Eve could be sober.

Those breezes are still with me,
They blow a little stiffer now,
Especially, the warm one about caring and purpose

For I’m traveling,
With the energy of the new year,
And maybe I’ll wind up in Williamsburg for real, maybe not,

But one thing is sure,
I’m open to messages everywhere,
Apathy has no shot.


Thank you to everyone who stopped by this my this year. The bulk of the posts went to a group of unhappy characters in the fictional town of Taylorville as I attempted to complete a challenge from my daughter to write a verse novel with one post each day. I ended up with 365-poems, but I didn’t follow her rules all of the time. I’m betting she didn’t follow all of my rules through the years either…

I also published a verse novel called, “Mothers Forever.” The process of self-publishing a book was exciting and frustrating. You can find the book at all of the online retailers, so buy a copy for yourself, buy a copy for your family members, and buy lots of copies for your friends… So ends the shameless plug…

There were more visitors to the blog than ever before. Hopefully, the posts were entertaining. Again, thank you for stopping by.


The new year will be another “themed” year. I’ve been interested in revisiting some of the research skills from my dissertation days and doing a “study.” I’ve given myself informed consent and will be exploring my relationship with apathy, goal commitment, and self-efficacy while setting out to run a couple of marathons and lose a few stubborn pounds. The blog posts will include the normal fare of poetry and photography, but I am also going to write a few non-fiction articles and share the results of my “study” as the year progresses. If all goes to plan, the creative side will enhance the “life hack” side and the year will be a success.

Then again, maybe I shouldn’t have any expectations. They are so limiting.

As always, please comment as you see fit and have a great year!

Stretching dog funk,

Slapping rain on cold puddles,

Whir of a rushing stream barely within its banks

A low moan from a distant train bringing a comfort and sadness to my heart

Lingering flavor from steaming coffee, bitter, pure

Dry skin aching to get going,

Disciplined whispers promoting motivation,

Good morning.

Robert Woods (A Local Dude)

That’s it,
They finally got themselves together.

I’m back to driving my bus,
The normal stuff is taking over.

“Hey, Billy, sit down.”

People are complaining about gas,
Ranting about Trump, all is back to normal.

At least they are going to the games now
And supporting the school.

(So ends the story of Taylorville and the peculiar ways that people see the world… Thank you for reading this throughout 2018!)


Stop believing sports are heavenly,
Stop thinking STEM is the only way,
Understand people need to learn how to be people,
Understand we need each other.

There is no scholarship guarantee,
Playing time is earned,
Bands are there for a reason,
Sports and music can go together.

But only when perspectives are open,
When perspectives are malleable,
When perspectives are given a chance
To see everything.


Limited thinkers,
Working from an entitled perspective,
Singe everything around them,
Mostly it’s people who get burned,
Often it’s the single-celled dumplings
Who started the mayhem
Suffering the greatest degree of heat.