Let me know why.

How come we do stupid shit,
Say dumb things,
Get caught up on the wrong side.

Let me know why.

How fame and fortune
Can turn into
Infamy and morsels just like that.

Let me know why.

How we’ve gotten to this point,
What you’re going to do about, and
Why, for heaven’s sake you are in hiding.

Let me know why.

Because your little creation is out of hand,
And since you seem to be the only fixer,
I’d like you to get off your butt and do something.

Let us know, we’re waiting.

Sacred idols bought at dime-store prices
Mean just as much
As the ones found on a mountain or
Buried in the sand.
Eons do not make meaning,
Guts do,
Reflection does.
Power to change, to be inspired,
To get on with life in a positive way
Rests within,
The external symbols bringing little to our games
Unless a mountain was climbed or
Sands were traversed
To understand their meaning.

Get going.


Darkness brings about life
Where spirits take off in flight
Letting go of anger and strife
In the stillness of night

When spirits take off in flight
Thoughts fly to the afterlife
Particularly in the stillness of night
But death need not be rife

Thoughts of the afterlife
Weigh a spirit with fright
But death need not be rife
When one has gone to the light


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Wandering with breaths
Empty of inspiration,
The pain of respiration
To much without a foundation.

The early years
With baptisms and acolytes
Lost in Sundays full of competition
Between church and football pregame shows.

The middle years
A buffet of energy, enlightenment, and disdain
Where koans and righteous indignation
Questioned everything of faith.

Years bring understanding
That faith is necessary
And that man is given
An ability to question and choose.

A sense of peace and fullness of belly
Has come forward to inspire,
Making breathing deep
With solid faith in what is right.

Christian lessons, there since the beginning
Make certain a life of favor
While the others offer support
Keeping me whole.

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That which seems so clear
May only be a mask
Hiding our blind spots.

Dr. Bach claimed the greatest
Of our mighty nation,
Except of course for the materialism.

He opined about the need
For teachers to be leaders
As weakness infiltrated our ethos.

“Technology and materialism,”
He said from his pulpit,
“Have outstripped our moral endurance.”

Turns out the learned man, Bach
Was living life as a professor
Out in the open spaces of Iowa.

His life was devoted to the understanding
Of religion and faith.
Did he think computers the Tower of Babble?

Was he worried of nuclear bombs,
Or radicalism in other faiths?
Maybe he just didn’t see past his manifest.

That which seems so clear
May only be a mask
Hiding our blind spots.

A monk with a camera,
Willing to give up so much
On a quest for nothingness
That has left him with everything.


A pilgrim with a spirit,
Realizing simplicity is the will
For finding a soulful substance
That will bring him everything.