Buy Me a Buddha

I have everything
and nothing in life
Just one more thing
Buy me a Buddha

I can’t stop wanting
till I have it all
Everything there is
Buy me a Buddha

Kid in a candy store, maybe
Or just a man pushing sixty
holding onto his life
Please, buy me a Buddha

Happiness used to visit more often
when I was young
I beg you please
Buy me a Buddha

When you have everything else
that money can buy
There’s just one thing left
Buy me a Buddha

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Call It What You Like

You must be brave enough to be yourself
And never for a moment, look back
Wishing you were something different
Than who you are

We’re not the same
From day to day
Not even
Moment by moment

We’re not the same
You and me
Thee and Thou
Something then or now

You must be brave enough
To transcend all the bullshit
All the nonsense you think, read, and see
Transcend it all

I can’t help you
To be yourself
You can’t help me
To be who I am

But we can help each other
With reassurances
Undeniably why there are mirrors
Mire reflective moments in time, you and me

Ode to a Snow Storm

Whispy flakes of snow dart about
just outside my office window
Their helter skelter determination impresses me
Though I can’t but wonder why
in this world, obsessed with management and control
there are no snow architects to guide the flakes
in their building of monotonously white mountains
that will invariably snarl, strangle and suffocate our poor cars
as they endeavor to take us homeward
Hopefully before the price of gas hits 4 bucks a gallon

Attitude most certainly makes a difference in life
and it does when it comes to dealing with snow jobs
including those inflicted by passive-aggressive co-workers
and Mother Nature herself, who claims her right
under some dubious 28th Amendment found in the small print
of THE Divine Universal Constitution–
a book yet to be published in a language I comprehend

I’ll do my best not to question the Divine Right
or Left for that matter
What are politics but nasty boils on our behinds
that no matter how we sit, we feel their pain
So we stand, waiting for the snow to end
while the fools, fruitcakes, and boil-butted lunatic drivers clog up
the exits, intersections, and interstate entrance ramps
For what reason I ask?
Perhaps to see the evening news, reporting what we already know–
a nasty snowstorm has hit Cleveland
making the evening commute home miserable, and
if you missed the weather at 6
you can catch the talking heads on Facebook 24-7-365

Needless to say, I have kicked off my shoes
and let the fools honk and curse each other
while I sip a flavored coffee, nibbling the last of almost stale Christmas cookies
And who knows, maybe I’ll nap till 7
and dream of cities with winning football teams
and places where the sun always shines

Note: Thanks to Jennifer Dillinger at the Cleveland Clinic for the idea for this poem