Crackling Fires from Funeral Pyres

Digging holes with metal poles

Earth hanging by a string

ember coals and smokey souls

our hearts refuse to sing

Nostril flares and double dares

blood coursing through our veins

no one cares or fires flares

to save us from the flames

Rubber necks on splintered decks

missiles pierce the sky

the crackling fires from funeral pyres

sparkle in our eyes

Mascara streaks on dampened cheeks

as quiet fills the air

we crawl across a floor that creaks

to waken our despair

Stars explode and fade to black

the darkened sky above

stretches far from east to west

obscuring peace and love

Gravely Still

Not a single mourner in the mist

No priest to say “And now we pray”

Just a casket

a freshly dug hole

two gravediggers and a crow

Cold enough to see your breath

But warm enough to dodge the mausoleum

No one in attendance

No one to toss that first handful of dirt

signifying the end of earthly ties to the living

I imagine a nattily attired corpse

still able to hear

Weeping at the silence

Embarrassed and dismayed at the poor showing

The muffled mummers

of the two unknown grave diggers

the very last voices he hears

a faint and fading

“Rest in Peace, Bro” followed by

“Do you want to grab a coffee at Dunkin?”

As a smile comes over his face

The Ending Will Be . . .

It won’t be by fire

it won’t be by ice

not a slow-creeping glacier

or atomic device

The sun won’t implode

on apocalypse day

There won’t be four horsemen

riding our way

The Messiah won’t show

with a list in his hand

And no, heaven won’t have

one helluva band

And there won’t be any

fences to mend

or dastardly sins

we’re forced to defend

And the angel of death

will have no wings at all

she’ll be a viral and nasty

spiky red ball

aided by

an immoral fool,

who always felt

he was too cool for school

And the angel of death

will give him a task

“push lie after lie”

and don’t wear a mask”

Together they spread

Death far and wide

taking all of America

on a perilous ride

So, no

it won’t be by fire

and it won’t be by ice

not a slow creeping glacier

nr atomic device

our ending will be

too small to see

Here today, gone….


Embrace your temporariness.

All of us are about 2.5 generations away from true non-existence.

As the final memory of us fades to black and we transition from the warmth of humanity to the cold breathless inanimate, our existence gets relegated to the flat and dimensionless world of dusty photos, handwritten notes, and password-protected social media pages. Such is our fate.

We will not be reunited with loved ones on puffy white clouds — that’s a Peter Pan-level fantasy, and the sooner we let it go, the truer to ourselves we can be.

We are all short-timers, so lets seize that realization and use it as fuel for making a positive impact in the NOW — for caring and making the world a better place TODAY, so those who come after us, can have a happy and peaceful existence. Is there a more noble endeavor?