This Kentucky Morning

These Kentucky mornings, right after the freeze of winter have kissed away the frigid mornings, right before spring whistles in the temperate winds across the Appalachian mountains. Mornings when the mist attempts to hide the trees that hibernate in the open winter air. Dark brown branches eagerly waiting for mother nature to give the order to spring lush green leaves. And then not even this fog can hide summer’s bloom.

POEMS Storyteller


I walked up to the ocean
The tropical ocean
I hesitate for a second
Soaking in the beauty of it all
I wanted to dive in
Feel the warm water hug my skin
Just for a moment let me swim
I step to the gentle waves
It was warm and inviting
It sparkled like
Diamonds at Tiffany’s of New York
I am hypnotized
Unable to maintain a sensible thought
Then the fog clears
And I found myself
Looking into the eyes
Of the lady in pink
For a moment I knew not
Where I was
As she smiles, now there is
My sunshine over the ocean
Don’t wake me up
These beautiful eyes
Is my home for the moment
Until she looks away
Then and only then
Will I be able to breathe again


Stories Storyteller

October 1983

My mind is fogged with the thought of death
Fantasies of the afterlife
The only place where we finally become one
Like we should be
Birds will fly without flapping their wings
We will be free
For a dead man has no labels on him
Just his eternal soul
And his eyes will be wide open while he dream
Of the very place he is
Sweet foggy consciousness, hug me like my mother
While I lay on your bosoms
So I can rest peacefully in this everlasting sleep
Death is my lover
And I will be satisfied to cuddle with her
Because only she can save me now