A Good Days Trip

~A Good Days Trip~

I’ll trip the walls of your creation if you,

In turn, will save my soul!

It is time to lay down my guns,

My shields, my sunglasses and face the world.

Face life, death, love, hate, ruin, sadness

And happiness.


Still remains the question –

“Mother, did the wall need to be so high?”

It is hump day here in the Valley of Despair.

Can I go out and play – pray?


Let me live! I want to live.


I sit here now smoking a cigarette

And drinking a beer.

Listening to Bach on the radio,

I ask where is the path –

East, west, north or south?

I want you to hold me tight,

Knock me down, drag me around,

Let me know everything is going to be alright.


We belong in a world where nothing is wrong.

That is what dreams are made of.

So dry your eyes,

Leave all the tears inside.

Come take a chance down by the Oceanside.


Can you feel it?

The change is coming. Nothing is the same.

Why can’t things stay gold?

Because everything is for sale just to be sold.


Can you hear it?

The music floating through the breeze?

It’s Jimi, alive again!

Give the people what they want

And we want and we want!

The cycles of time go ’round and ’round.

I ask you – who beats the funeral drum?

Not Stevie Ray.


I can hear it now,

A guitars voice coming to town.

Where have those friends gone?

Why did they leave when we needed them most?

Where is Jimi now?

What happened to Janis?

And why won’t MoJoRisen write in?

I can see the taxi waiting,

But Mr. Chapin  has lost his license

And Bonzo’s drums sit in silence.

I can hear it now.


We belong in a world where nothing is wrong.

That’s what dreams are made of.

So dry your eyes,

Leave all the tears inside,

Take a chance down by the Oceanside.


~Bliss Within the Mist~

We are not seeking the greener side of the grass,

For it is the grass itself that we seek.

In the rear view mirror can be seen the city,

Ugly, dark and bleak.

Ahead can be seen a mountain town filled with history and class.


It is here we search for a new life.

Here are new friends to find.

There is nothing left to remind us of how life was so unkind.

It is here we find peaceful bliss within mist.


Trees all around,

Streams rapidly flowing by at feet,

Lakes filled with desert love.

Mountains so high they are able to touch the sky.

The only object is the many trees.

Fields and fields of cancer and loss of reality.

No sound, except the singing bee’s

And the animals running through this land of beauty

With a passion for individuality.


A land where peace and quiet stand out.

A land build for longtime  meditation.

Sitting at a warm fire, beneath a blanket of stars,

Having cold remembrances of how hard life used to be.

Slowly a tear falls.

It is here we find peaceful bliss within the mist.


~The Beat of A Single Drum~

Clouds in the sky,

Eyes swelled with tears

As they majestically pass by

Like the slow parade of years.


The beat of a single drum

comes flying through and endures in their ears,

A native drum from a far away land.


It fights to break a long silence,

But it is too late,

Their people are dead

And their land is gone.


Clouds in their eyes

As only a few are left,

Fending for their lives

To the beat of a single drum.


Ode to the Back Drop

~Ode to the Back Drop~

Looking long over the green meadows

Beneath blue skies

Yonder to the mountains.

Covered in pink majesty as the sun sets on another day in this

Mysterious land we call home.


It is misty out tonight.

Although there is no moon,

The sky is bright.

It is damp and quiet –

The silence is deafening.


Dawn. The sun bursts through the darkness.

The Plains of Abraham are alive today.

Its golden grasses burning in the mid day sun.

I sit here by this glistening river,

A place where I do not tax myself with the notion of what my life,

Or my children’s lives have become.

I search the land and sky for wild things.

Sitting here beside this river and these mountains in all their glory, I am at peace.

At peace with myself. At peace with the world.

I rest within the beauty of all that is around me and I am free.



For Dad


The rain that covered the streets and became part of the distant horizon

Was to be no more in the time it would take to walk a city block.

The beauty of nature’s beast began to show when the sun took a shinning.

All the races immediately began to show their faces./

The evil normally seen began to show its innocence.


The music being played before us, I’m sure you’ve heard through and through,

But not in the same way.

It tells of what life was meant to be, could be, is and what used to be.

The music has a rhythmic flow that puts amazement into the minds and eyes

Of the people in the audience watching the show.


Let me take you to a time when a man stood as a mountain of one.

The greatest orchestra conductor throughout the land.

The music he produced would wrap you up

And take you to unknown canals in your mind.

Down all the dark tunnels, to all the rapid rivers, all the canyons of life.

And when over would leave you in an impressive, tense, wondrous state of being.


To be a part of it, of him, is a silent dream in which only the very best obtain.

Not the already famous – but the unknown that he helps become the best!

The music put forth takes the mind of the listener.

He will always stand as a mountain of one,

For his dream is not to have world fame.

His desire is to bring music to the people,

And to just do the thing he loves most of all.

Bravo Maestro, Bravo! And thank you.

{JvLs 1984}

~Dedicated to Vincent La Selva, the worlds Maestro.   09/17/1929 – 10/09/2017~


As I walk down these historical hallways,

I can see legends of our time.


Good times, bad times.

Depression, recession.

I can’t help looking up the hallway towards the future

And wonder – does it hold another shinning star?

I can see a bright light,

That we are all guaranteed,

But are there good things to come inside my destiny

Before my death?

It is dark inside these hallways.

Within the candle’s light can be seen silhouettes of armor,

Shields and the great men and women who have died due to the cause.

There are shadows of people who died kneeling  in prayer;

Their life was stricken far too soon due to the cause.

In these windy hallways cab be heard the music makers melodies

Gently flowing in the breeze.

It is softer now,

The loud electric guitar is now a gentle acoustic.

We must all listen to the music.

In the quiet hallways can be seen a mountain of words.

Tales that mean so much, but are never paid attention to.

The tallest mountain of them all.

If only His children would read these words!

They say so much;

Instead we choose to walk through life on a crutch.

I, too, am dying due to the cause, yet is does not matter.

For one day we will all pass away.

Existence forgotten in time.

Without reason, without rhyme.

Simply, quietly forgotten.

Jvls (1984)

Turn and Walk Away

After shaking hands for the last time,

He slowly turned and walked away;

Knowing that another legacy was born

And another part of the present is now a part of the past.


On each occasion it was time to say goodbye.

Goodbye to old friends gone astray

And start a new life after leaving the always lingering

Hallways behind.


‘T is the day to say farewell.

A day to cry and say goodbye to a first love.

The couple strode out of the building,

Embraced and turned to walk away.

Goodbye to the street lights that lit the paths of your hometown.

The emptiness opens its door.

Seeing visions of childhood play,

He turned and walked away.


And now it is time to settle down.

Say hello.

Find life, live life, raise a family.

He will always remember the final smiles,

The endless handshakes,

The hard times and the easy times.

They will always be remembered with love.

So here’s to all of you!

Seeing visions of a life that has past,

He turned and walked away.


JvLs (1989)