The Hollow Man

Written sometime 1987-1990.

The hollow man slept,

On a table,
In a room blackened by time.

A dim lamp shone in a corner,
A star,

The sun,
Penetrating the darkness,
Through black grime of thoughts,
The thoughts within the mind of a boy,
Who knelt at the foot of the bed.

The boy wept and shook his head,
"Can it be true that my father is dead"?

Who is the Hollow Man in the darkness? Is it me or my Father?... who when I wrote this was alive, but is now no longer with us....another early poem wrestling with death and darkness. 

For my Father: Passed Away April 19, 2010

 Turn! Turn! Turn!

The Byrds

Words-adapted from The Bible, book of Ecclesiastes
Music-Pete Seeger

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time to be born, a time to die
A time to plant, a time to reap
A time to kill, a time to heal
A time to laugh, a time to weep

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time to build up,a time to break down
A time to dance, a time to mourn
A time to cast away stones, a time to gather stones together

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time of love, a time of hate
A time of war, a time of peace
A time you may embrace, a time to refrain from embracing

To Everything (Turn, Turn, Turn)
There is a season (Turn, Turn, Turn)
And a time to every purpose, under Heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose
A time to rend, a time to sew
A time for love, a time for hate
A time for peace, I swear it's not too late