Common Call

Sticks and stones.
Battle zones.
A single light bulb.
On a single thread for the black sirens wail.
History fails.
Rose-colored glass begins to age and crack.
While the politicians shadowbox.
The power ring in an endless split decision.
Never solve anything from a neighbor’s distant land.
I heard the strain of the common man.

Well the world seems spent.
And, the president has no good idea.
Of who the masses are.
Well I’m one of them!
And,  I’m among friends
We’re trying to see beyond the fences in our own backyards.
I’ve seen the kingdoms blow.
Like ashes in the winds of change.
But the power of truth?
Is the fuel for the flame!
So the darker the ages get…
There’s a stronger beacon yet.

Let it be me!
If the world is night.
Shine my life…like a light.

In the kind word you speak…

In the turn of the cheek…

When your vision stays clear…
In the face of your fear…
Then you see turning out a light switch.
Is their only power.
When we stand like spotlights.
In a mighty tower.
All for one… And, one for all.
Then we sing the common call!

This is not a fighting song.

Not a wrong for a wrong!

Indigo Girls – Let It Be Me


Half Mast

It appears, as of late, as though, we are always at half mast.

Everyone flying without wings.

Bank robbers without banks.

Cowboys and Indians without a hero.

Nowhere zones for nobody.

The local inconvenient-mart surrounded by splintered beings.

There is no glorified banner of right or wrong…

Good or evil.

Just a setting in which…desolation can dwell.

Peace on earth; a cup of twice brewed coffee…

weak and watery.

The middle of the road…lawless without castles.

Pieces of titled heaven in a used car lot.

Vetted veterans to the unknown wars…

no glory, no banner.

Just a holiday savings at the state liquor store.

Alas, no morals are left for the majority tours…of duty.

Daily helping hands down at the pantry.

Empty church pews guarded by rock star sentries.

Left on their own for fruitless searches.

To unearth nowhere places with placid deserters.


What is Going On



Dear, Mother, mother…

There’s too many of you crying.  Brother, brother, brother, there is far too many of you dying.  You know we have got to find a way, to bring some loving here today!

Day After Day: the Woman Vet

“I discovered this poem…awhile ago.  I believe it touches the soul of women everywhere.  What great courage it takes for a woman to willing go into battle.  The scope of war for her so unique.”

hey ricki 3


Day after day they ask me
“Why do you go away?
What makes you leave your family?
I think that you should stay.

My child who’s standing at the door
Clutching Daddy’s hand so
Pleads again with choking voice
“Mommy, please don’t go.”

For me, I must answer them,
I need for them to know.
It is not for fame or glory
Or riches that I go.

I go for each of you,
For all that have a son,
For all that have a daughter
Or a special loved one.

I go that when they hurt,
Or harm’s bullet has settled deep
Someone will be there for them,
To ease them as they sleep

I go to hold them as they die,
In some deserted place
To listen to their last goodbye
And still their troubled face.

I go because you can not go
And hold them when in fear
And soothe the troubled brow
As they cry for home so dear.

So when you see me pack my bags
And leave for lands so far away,
It is not hardness of the heart
Or mother’s conscience gone astray
Its for love of country, freedom,
Duty and honor too,
But most of all I go
To bring them back to you.

Capt. Cheryl Lockhart, USAFR, NC 914th Aeromedical Evacuation Squadron

Pleased to Meet You

lies 1


the scars of yesterday, still open and raw.


less memorable, or so you thought.

Jumped in dirty.

Came out the same way.

Letting the ego get the best of you?


Bigger than a breadbox.

Less memorable, or so you thought.

‘Got to stop believing in all my lies.

Too much to do…before I die.’

lies 3

This cell


its attire.

Me with my wink and all the things…lost in the fire.

Never believe me when I tell you,

youth is in me.

Nor, my innocence is purchased free.

‘Never hell, to well, for you or me.’

lies 2
Who killed our heroes?  After all, it was you and me.