A Watchful Eye

I was always aware of someone watching me in the family

and it was oddly comforting but sometimes scary

like having The Eye of Horus or The Eye of Ra on me

no matter what I did or how dangerous the activity

That watchful eye followed me over the years

and helped me deal with my fears

sometimes, I look up at the sky

after all these years have gone by

and wonder why

I still believe in a watchful eye?

My Bangkok Tour Guide

Essay – 246 words

While walking down a street in the Kingdom of Thailand where ex-pats from around the world land, blending seamlessly into the local 1970 economy, I met a young boy with a man’s eyes.

He was probably ten – going onto forty – with worldly knowledge far beyond his tender years. Anuia was a frail street waif with the wisdom of the local marketplace for sale. He promised the best place to stay, my drug of choice, and prostitutes with breathless beauty, if I hired him throughout my stay.

We toured a banana plantation, and a red light district called
Pattaya, with outrageous sex acts they were not even considered risqué in the day. Creedance Clearwater Revival rocked the bars with “Looking Out My Backdoor.” I smoked some of the best weed in my life, comparing it to the Vietnamese strain that made you forget your name.

We watched kick fighter’s knock each other out, only to get up afterwards and respectfully bow to one another. Anuia shared his best curse words to get quick results, and bargained over every transaction like it might be his last. He was shrewd and a survivor, with no parents or family.

The thing that impressed me the most was he was always smiling – except when he negotiated a deal. His smile seemed to defy the life he led. When my time was up, and I had to go, he shook my hand, then turned to greet another group of visitors deplaning nearby.

Keep The Line Moving

there’s no time to stop or hesitate

or to contemplate your fate

the line must keep moving along

no sense of right or wrong

the line keeps moving everyday

never making any headway

in a society of strangers

afraid of dangers

lines are crossed and people die

not even knowing why

everyone keeps moving the line

looking for a sign

a guiding light

through the dark night

for inspiration

and salvation


Nonsense in the Key of See

New York Babylon

politicians who don’t get along

parades of stupidity by the deplorably strong

images that are just plain wrong

freedom is facing a swansong

swing low and bang the bong

racists don’t belong

shades of King Kong

a saint in a sarong

pimps playing ping pong

the growing throng

you might as well come along

after all, we all belong