Untitled

The grass that blows in
the dark of night is just
as green as in the light
of day, but you just can't
see it happening.


This is true with so many
things that are not necessarily
in nature.


A person could be like the
grass.  He exists within
himself while existing with
other people, but the insides
is what you can't see.


So how can you see the
inside thoughts of a person?
You can't, until you read the
thoughts on this paper.

Untitled

Why do you say you're for peace?
Won't you tell me please?
You want to work all you can,
But you don't give a damn.
You fight for what you think is right,
But you don't know what's best,
To you, Peace is just a word,
That somewhere you heard.

An Untitled Drama

I cry inside for
help to anyone
who will hear me
but I'm always happy.


I yell out to
anyone who's present
but I am
always quiet.


Someone once said
that I was hard
to get to know,
but who do they know?


When I examine myself
I find that I'm
different people
to different people.


Why must it be that
way?  It's easy to
explain...others are
like that too.


"Oh, not they're not!",
says the world.

An Untrue Happening

 The time could have been the present, the past, or maybe the future, but instead it was 8:06 p.m.  Jack Franklin Sims was watching television in his favorite position--straight down.  Jack was the president of a large corporation in the Midwest.  His wife was out-of-town during this particular day.  She was off on a trip of good-will to help the poor in a nearby town.
 The T. V. show was over.  Jack got an idea.  Why not do something that had never been done before?  Why not go to Saturn and back before his wife got home?  He would have to go before the next day, when his wife was coming home.  It was just a few million miles away.  He could make it, if he hurried.
 Sims went outside to his work-house.  He took some tin and wood, and he put together a first-class rocket.  Gasoline was used for fuel.  It was 9:15 p.m., when he finished.  The countdown started.  At exactly 9:16 p.m., the engine was ignited.  There was a big explosion.
 Mrs. Sims came home the next morning.  She found a large crater in the backyard.  On investigation,
she found what seemed to be the remains of a person.  Little did she know that Jack Franklin Sims was out of this world, in more ways than one.

Understanding Jimmy, 1974

Where is the season of
 pity that all the right people
  were focusing their wares?


Where is the season of
 sorrow that comes when someone
  is dead or is buried through hearts?


Where is the season of
  pain that comes when a friend
   is lost from society which gave his birth?


Where is the season of
 sadness that comes when you
  cannot do anymore for anyone?


Where is the season of
 humanity that comes when they
  accept people and not labels?


When does the season of
 an individual disappear from
  the scene without a trace?


When does it happen?
Where does he go?

Untitled, 1974

It's so nice to be famous,
Yes, it's so nice don't you see?
Yes, it's so nice to be famous,
Star of stage, screen, and T.V.

Untitled, 1979

Scribbling on a wall
a boy tried to say
that he was still alive,
but nobody saw it,
so it doesn't matter
to the world if
he did it or not.


It's like--if you yell
and no one hears you,
then your yell is worthless,
because the world still turns,
and clocks still tick,
and children still say their
prayers before they go to bed.


Obituaries are for the living.