Peter’s Poems


I’m locked up in this room you see
With plastic faces on color TV,
I’ll turn it off and be alone
Sitting by an unused phone,
Thinking what it’s all about,
And in silence let my pen shout.



I saw her eyes and at once knew
That I felt love and hoped she too
Would respond in likewise fashion,
To want to meet and share this passion.
No, not for sex or life together,
But just to love before we wither.
Our minds could meet and love could grow
If I’d only never to say “Hello”.
Well, there she goes, she’s out of view.
There goes a love we never knew.
Momentary anguish and I walk away
To fall in love ten times a day.



I thought it grand to have such riches
That I could fill my simple wishes
Of dreams that I’ve been told to seek
Like a climber who sights a peak.
But I ascended until I learned
That the world continually turned.
As I climbed up, into space,
I was falling on my face.



They built the thing
Eighteen Hundred Feet tall,
But all it really is
Is a place for men to fall.



All day we hustle through this cold
world of strangers, each in their
daily tracks, walking on that safe road
of acceptability. We’re all alone with
friends that we are too afraid to touch
but by a customed meeting of the palms
of our hands as fingers grasp and the
whole of two hands move up and down in
unison, and so many can’t even do that
right. When are we going to actually
meet, eye to eye, face to face, heart to
heart with an actual sharing of the task
of meeting the actual world together?
Probably never.

We all have our dreams to distort
reality. Is love a dream or truth?
Can one honestly love a stranger or is
it an affection which grows and mellows
in time, an something else before that time?
To me, it doesn’t really matter as I
Refuse to admit that the warmth in my
Guts and that burning desire to touch
One’s self could be imagination while the
truth is as cold as a steel girder in a
tower that only exists to be. If that were
the case, why should we continue to
continue? Just to hold up an empty steeple?
Filled with empty people?

There’s only one answer to this enigma
Which is not the truth but a realization
of life as it really exists in our minds.
Truth only exists in theory anyway.
No two people ever experience the same
happening the same way and time plays tricks
on the minds eye which is already distorted
by prejudice, wishful thinking and individual
perception. So, why seek the absolute truth
when it’s cold, lonely and impossible to
actually know in any event. We had might as
well continue to imagine love and let it consume
us for all of us so that we need never be alone
no matter how far apart we are, we’d be together.



I stood in silence all alone
As they entered and stayed together
In the diagonal corner.
And she made conversation
As he stood quietly.

Another entered and faced the door
As the always present mood of silence
permeated the air.
She continued to speak
Until she saw his face which replied
“Please! No more.”

She answered with a silent face
Which stopped all speech in that room,
And we all continued without an utter,
Four in silence standing still,
Screaming inside, “SPEAK!”

We stood for half a minute still,
It seemed an hour maybe more
Watching numbers on the wall
Until we stopped and the doors
Of the elevator opened.



Thomas you devil, you’re not so bright,
Although your inventions were out of sight
For those who stood alone in dark
To see those far off skyward sparks.

Those sparks of drama in outer space
Which help us understand our place
On earth in our societies
Are gone to pay your royalties.

Now we stand, but no one knows
More than how the city glows
From bulbs that fill the sky with light.
Thomas, where can we find the night?

To the country for one solution,
Away from this light pollution,
Or maybe, when we close our eyes
And souls ascend up to the skies.

But given time and perspiration
With one percent imagination
You’ll brighten up those darken faces
By screwing light bulbs in those places.



Belong, belong, belong to
Family, a nation, a place.
Keep the difference strong between
Gods and tongues and race.

That’s how people are,
Tending to deny it.
They talked of offered love,
But never dare to try it.

You can teach them all you wish
Of Brotherhood and Man,
But when you’re not around
They’ll forget all they can.

They’re not all inhumane,
With evil tongues and hearts,
They love their own so strong,
They don’t see how it starts.

It’s the natural state of man
That never can get straight
Until the last man left
Loves where he has hate.



Just tell me please, Why I am here?
With blood, sweat and pounding wild
wide eyed Fear?
Why it is I’m going out on patrol?
Why is it I’ve no longer control
Of Where, How and If I continue to live?
When did I sell me or when did I give?

I remember high school, when I reached
the age, I went for my draft card, not knowing
war waged. I was happy to get one as
I didn’t think
Of more than my present and new right
to drink. I went down with pleasure and hopefully
signed the papers that placed me into this bind.

I finished my schooling and dreaded the day
Which came as the mailman brought me “I-A”.
Now re-classified and I’m ready to go
Into the army, a real G.I. Joe,
It still was beyond me, caught unaware
That I could encounter this lonely despair.

I figured my chances and measured the odds
And felt it had to be in my cards
To stay at home while the other ones fought,
And that’s the mistake that I should have
caught. To run before joining is a
right proper time,
To make for induction makes it high crime.

So I followed the leader and jumped into
place, Cut off my hair and shaved off my face.
I learned to take orders, to kill and shine shoes,
Patiently awaiting the day of the news
When the computer stamped out Group “A’s”
and “B’s” To stay in this country or fly overseas.

When I finally heard, I broke into tears.
I suddenly learned of my long hidden fears.
By now it was late, I wanted to skip
But could figure no way to take the long trip.
I plotted but just could not get away
And that’s why I’m at where I am today.

So, dear God, help me get out of this hole
Take this confession and cherish my soul
I didn’t know better but just went along
With other men’s thoughts, I know now
were wrong.
Dear Lord, forgive me if I have to slay,
I must follow orders or die this way.

If I owned myself, I know what I’d do,
I’d fly to an island where people are few,
Where food is plenty as Earth does abound
With sand without fox holes with hardly
a sound.
I’d bask in the sun at a leisurely pace
And never dream that I killed in this place.

Enough of these thoughts, there’s trouble
I’ll look for instructions to keep from the
I see them now coming, there’s a man in
my sight.
He’s covered from sweat and clearly from
His lips are moving to whisper his prayer,
And I pull the trigger and pray I won’t care.



“Hang him! Hang Him! Hang!” They said,
“Hang from the hangman’s tree”
“Hang him ‘til he’s cold and dead
Thank God that he isn’t me”“Hunger is such a
bad bad thing,
It’s too bad that they have to die,
Hunger and fever with floods this spring
Thank God that it isn’t I”. “Well, off with
the news and on with our lives
To listen is too much to bear.”
Ignore, Ignore and then realize
I heard it but I didn’t hear. But tomorrow is coming
and I’ll be the news and people will watch it and see
They’ll hear but not hear and kneel in their pews
As inside I’m screaming “It’s me”.



“You’ll not get far,” his teacher swore
As she produced his I.Q. score,
“To think I used to think you brighter,
But now I can treat you lighter
When you speak out.
With that I.Q. I shalln’t doubt
That you’re weak where I thought you strong.
I guess got your number wrong.
Sorry, I shouldn’t give you heck.
Here’s your score, wear it round your neck”.



In this world of goods so new
We look for truth and see too few
Things that fit a life for one
Who longs for some fine honest fun.

At last the market place has brought
A toy that causes lasting thought
Of life and sex and puzzled joy,
A chopped up mess of Miss Playboy.

A jig sawed copy of past releases,
The poor girl has gone to pieces,
Cut apart by some contraption
As she longed for loving action.

But all’s not lost so calm those fears
That no one knows and no one cares.
The fragments interlock to show
The maiden from her head to toe.

Just start to gather up her face,
Then the border and find the place
For all the pieces that join to one
Making up this new canned fun,
Rated for Parental Guidance.



Ecstasy is in the mind where it
is created, lives, hides and dies,
Sometimes aided by the senses,
But independently it exists
Unless wished away for science
or hooked on society’s reliance.

Most people in this world today
only know the word ecstasy
in how it’s spelled and what
the dictionary says that it means.
But they never use it to explain
How they feel when there is no pain.
What a shame.



Oh, how I remember that succulent taste
of a bun split in two filled with
Chopped meat and extras. Personally,
I preferred onions and ketchup, while
others enjoyed mustard and relish, but
regardless, the eight ounces of meat
were solid and the bun held everything
together while adding to the taste of
the beef.

Today, even that thrill of natural food
has been denied the public who eat
A more sophisticated type of scrap.
Instead of eight ounces of substance,
now there are two patties, each probably
less than half of half of the old time mass,
with an extra piece of bread
between and a special sauce so that
we can taste more than bread.

That special sauce is what I dread,
Like heroin, it lifts its addictive head,
Just one taste and you need some more,
So you trot back down to the same store
Where you first got hooked on that spectacular taste,
Until you notice your expanding waist
and start to realize we can’t rely
On bread alone we would surely die.
So, heed my warning when I say
That chopped meat sandwiches were of yesterday,
And money spent is money lost
Regardless of the new low costs.



The glitter in your eyes back then
Was shining hope of the time when
You’d finish school and start to find
All those dreams you dreamt while blind.

The shine of those eyes still lingers,
But only on your wedded finger,
As you learned to face each day
With no more dreams to guide your way.

You slowly age, as time goes by.
You’re not satisfied and wonder why.
You’ve got so much it must seem strange
To only lack the will to change.



When I was just a little child, I learned
to spend my time
Playing in the City streets with mud
pies out of grime.
The smells, the sights, the sounds and
frights were all the world to me
So I was sent away one day to see
What I could see.

Off I went with others. We traveled
for awhile
When we got there safe and sound, I
couldn’t help but smile.
There were tall pine trees, a little bush
and rocks for me to find
That I knew were Mother Earth and
there before Mankind.

Oh! The smells, the river, the freedom
that was there!
Like the birds I saw that day, I floated
in the air.
I’d feast my eyes on distance and look
around for fun,
To see those green hills over there
lit up by the sun.

I never knew more beauty than black
and white T.V.
With no idea that in this world these
sights were there to see.
The time went by so quickly, I was
thankful I could stay
And see the scenes tomorrow that
I had seen today.

Then it came the evening after all was
said and done,
With no more sights to see around without
the mighty sun,
The sky was dark, no street lights now,
the moon was out of sight,
I stared up at the heavens and suddenly
saw the night.

There were stars out there bursting a
billion years away.
It was more than I’d imagined with all
the sights that day.
I knew my place at once in that lesson
of my youth,
I felt so insignificant looking at the

The city grime is now my home, but I
don’t think I’ll remain
Watching people go to work screaming
out “Sustain!”
And when they come to ask me to kindly
tell them why,
I sit them back to calm themselves and
tell them of the sky.



You’ll have to excuse this strange behavior,
But when words start flowing and voices waiver,
I’ve got to ask you to forgive my style,
For I’m afraid that in a while
You’ll tell me that you’ve heard my say,
Then tell me there’s no need to stay.
In which event, what did it cost?
The emptiness of being lost.

For quite some time a fool I’ve been,
Though considered more, I don’t within,
So what could cause this awkward fear
That wants inside what I won’t dare
Sing out to you sure and strong
Hoping that you’ll sing my song
With vigor, as I chant away
The emptiness of another day.

Quietly I’ll hum it through
Until I know of trust in you
To share the world and all my wealth
Of understanding mental health,
Until that time I dread that fear
That you’ll notice but not quite care,
After I’ve committed my head
To love you with those words unsaid.