Texas Bobcat—quiet resident of nearly every county,
you move through forests, plains,
and the edges of our neighborhoods
with the ease of an animal built to belong anywhere
concealment remains.
Your coat—tawny and mottled, with faint bars and scattered spots~
mirrors the muted colors of scrub and stone.
Tufted ears lift like alert punctuation,
your short tail flicks its small, decisive signal,
and your muscular frame carries
the steady confidence of a medium-sized hunter.
While we sleep behind walls and windows,
you cross rocky ledges, wooded corridors,
and even urban green spaces with practiced silence.
Your senses read the dark for rabbits, rodents, birds~
and sometimes the bold chance of larger prey.
Unseen and adaptable, you are proof
that wildness still threads itself
through North Texas—alert, enduring,
and entirely at home.
The Granite State still sharp and tall,
beyond our old, fractured stone wall.
The maple leaves we used to chase,
have now left an empty, quiet space.
The winter froze the lonely lake,
with memories I cannot break.
We laced our skates in freezing air,
but no one else is waiting there.
The April sun now thaws the woods,
of changing, distant neighborhoods.
The muddy boots and melting snow,
are ghosts of things from long ago.
Imagine 1800 pound Clydesdale horses . . .
in the downtown and neighborhoods . . . a vision come true
from farmers fields and barns to city streets
chosen for strength, intelligence and calmness
approachable, highly trained
four legs and a saddle . . . beautiful
As a race of people we seemed determined on destroying each other….
but before we cross that final line…
may we be blessed to think about the words of Albert Einstein.
Who made this observation…
when he saw the futility of humans destroying each other
banning other humans from their countries…
their neighborhoods…their house
‘Man invented the atomic bomb
BUT
No mouse in the world would
ever build…a mouse trap.
to trap or kill another mouse.
The splendor of his mad mischief
fell asunder in Minab,
tarnishing his campaign beyond repair.
All malice is unleashed with a touch of morbidity.
His bombing campaign is sudden, fierce, swallows whole neighborhoods in seconds,
yet far below a just war, and a travesty of truth.
Nothing but unjust war reeking through the emperor's clothes.
Solution is just peace.
Ignored neighborhoods
Ignored schools
Ignored parks
Ignored streets
Ignored Housing
Ignored businesses
Ignored development
Ignored ignored
Geographical Racism
Segregated schools
Segregated hospitals
Segregated neighborhoods
Segregated employment
Segregated politics
Segregated life
Segregated churches
A howling yeti
In Cincinnati!
Does Cincinnati
Even have a yeti?
It wouldn’t surprise me,
Yeti’s a hobo, you see.
Headline News:
12/23/2025
Mysterious noise echoes across Cincinnati neighborhoods for weeks
12/25/2025
From yetis to railyards: Possible lead emerges for strange noise in Cincinnati
Delicate feathery ice flakes, dusting,
pirouetting, and spinning
in the depths of winter in the dead of the night.
Cold temperatures and icy wind moved
in with howling sounds.
Piling up snowdrifts over the ground.
At dawn, a playground of sparkling crystalline carpet of snow
takes away the sun's warm glow.
Silver icicles hung bonded to the peaked hill walls
as dripping water froze.
Snowbound till the snowplows clear the roads.
Or walk the long road feeling the bite of cold through drifts.
The blurred lights and the beep and scrape
of a snowplow are seen through the blowing snow
as it emerges, like an angel pushing the snow aside
as it turns onto the road through the drifting snow.
Shortly after, salt is splattered, causing the snow to melt.
A cleared path through the neighborhoods and town.
The laughter of children bundling up tight.
Outside, chattering teeth and tingling fingertips,
a snowy adventure... having fun.
Even snow angels join in the fun.
The warm ambiance of a fireplace draws all near its charm.
Around its cozy gold ember crackling fire,
away from the cold, a welcoming bathing warmth of comfort.
War engulfs the planet
Terror ever on the rise
Dead bodies fill morgues to overflow
Evidence no government can hide
Entire neighborhoods decimated
Residents shiver underground
Children can’t be comforted
Screaming at every missile come round
Nowhere safe anymore
If nor terror or war
Then waves of criminal beatdowns and horror
Jealousy, lust, hatred, all at fever pitch
Dangerous to be good-looking or rich
The world’s on shaky legs
as the pious among us sit and beg
for the Redeemer, the Messiah –
--whomever he may be
All of us, fed up with waiting
Centuries of vain anticipating
If he really exists, let him come this minute
to repair the world and everything in it
Homeless ones feel invisible,
Daily, they feel this way.
Because people, hundreds, pass by,
but never … a word say.
What makes me sad is knowing they’re
some Mother’s, dear lost child.
Missing years, why seldom seen these
Moms ever really ... smile.
Homeless have their own fears; some are
afraid to strangers speak.
Fear what could happen cause they’ve seen
too many … act like freaks.
Police know of rare 'brotherhood,'
among homeless exist.
Approach homeless wrong way,
what feel … will be their fist.
True, some want to be left alone,
But what about others?
In sidewalk "Tent Neighborhoods," some
act as … Dads and Mothers.
Homeless protecting each other’s
tents, and few belongings.
They’re ‘GOD SENDS”, til God’s Kingdom comes,
blessings … to all folks bring.
When God’s will is done on earth, all
Homelessness will cease.
Mental illness won’t plague mankind,
Moms' hearts … at last at peace!
Sept.15, 2023
A banner flutters in miniature pride,
stars frozen mid-waltz, stripes folding
like gentle waves—
a tiny chorus of red, white, blue.
I imagine the seam of that paper flag,
its edges serrated like hopeful teeth,
waiting to bite into air,
to sail across neighborhoods on whispered wings.
Each star is a promise—
a small light in a massive sky.
Each stripe, a pulse:
resilience, unity, churned history distilled
into red—blood, courage, sacrifice.
At the bottom: FREEDOM—
a single word anchored in gray,
soft as ash and loud as a marching drum
pressed into one corner,
a vow to endure beyond the moment.
I see letters etched beneath fingers,
penned in midnight lamps—
love letters to mothers and soldiers,
invitations to lonely birthdays,
apologies and confessions sent
with trembling stamps of hope.
On this paper flag, we bind our stories.
It’s less about the pride of nations,
more about the weight of our words
and the silent faith that someone, somewhere,
will hold that flag
and read our hearts.
There’s an old, abandoned pet cemetery hidden near the woods
At the end of desolate dirt road far away from neighborhoods
It’s rumored to have a haunted grave, where apparitions appear at night
Among the many old ghostly statues that during the day is a peaceful sight
Eerie cries at night and groaning sounds are rumored to be heard
Many believe it’s spirits of pet’s grief-stricken owners being stirred
On nights with a full moon, gossamer glows on stones under the moonlight
As sounds of barking, crying and meowing can evoke feelings of fright
There’s a beautiful old worn rod iron gate that surrounds the cemetery grounds
It’s kept locked and weeds have grown up over it as it remains closedown
Many see it as a godforsaken haunted and now forgotten lonely place
With painful memories of departed pets that cast an eerie light on the space
At night the gate is guarded with dog spirits of a Doberman and a Greyhound
And many have tried to capture the spirits on camera, but never to be found
the intelligentsia stood by helplessly
as Neanderthals with guns mowed people down
bullets are flying in all of the neighborhoods now
Yes, this includes the suburbs
Might makes right is the new mantra
Felons are at the helm
America at her worst
they walk among us,
slipping through cracks in the drywall of laws,
hidden in neighborhoods where swings creak empty.
their eyes,
like needles,
threading innocence with ruin.
you see them in grocery aisles,
behind polite smiles,
a rotting core in a skin of civility.
justice comes late, or never at all.
the system's gears
grind slow,
while childhood crumbles
in a landfill of stolen nights.
the world lets them crawl on,
unnoticed,
like termites,
until the house falls apart exposing
the skeletal remains in the basement.
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