You left a stain on
every day of my
childhood
You soiled my spirit
with the blood of my
soul
Perhaps it will take
all the flames of
perdition to make
right what you did
to me but I doubt
you could burn long
enough for my anger
to be appeased
You made me
a victim, a hater
of a fellow human
being
I wished you dead
so often the angels
themselves could
not hope to fathom
the count
No, my hatred has
left me well beyond
the grace of Heaven's
golden realm

My consolation?

If I too must be
abandoned to
the eternal pit,
I will pray to
whatever god
may hear a
lament from
such a place
that I alone
be permitted
to stoke the
flames beneath
your fetid carcass
And even if God
on high chooses
to someday pardon
your unholy trespass
do not dare to smile...

I do not forgive so easily.

Some men live their lives
forcibly chained to a ball
of iron and curse God.
Others willingly chain
themselves to a cross
of gold and curse the
devil.

Odd sort of folk these
Christians...

Pull up a chair
and I’ll lie to you.
And I promise that
you won’t be sad
If I told you the truth
you would call me uncouth
and insinuate I might be mad

See, Oz is a wonderful wizard
While Santa Claus flies in a sleigh
In the Heavens above
there’s a God made of love
who will show you His magical
way

And a bunny delivers
the Easter eggs
And the tooth fairy
left you a dime
And Christ may have died
with a spear in His side
but he never changed water
to wine

So I notice that now
you are smiling
Then I guess that
my work here is
through
Believing the lies
is a good compromise
and so what if it’s
not really true

I wrote this with poetess extraordinaire Chick George (AKA Jenny). I have absolutely no experience writing sonnets and made a mess of it. She was kind enough to point out a mere 65 errors in my first attempt, making helpful suggestions and re-writing entire sections. If this deserves any praise at all, it is because of her tireless efforts to salvage my little disaster.
Thanks Jenny*


There once lived two midgets in ****** land
Who found a lass lying on a flat stone
Alone upon a beach. The grainy sand
Within their tiny shorts crept, yielding frowns
Of sorts that miniature faces command
And consternation's curses clearly read
On wee lips; eagerly they peeked at things
They'd only dreamt could be. Their visions fed
With silly notions that sometimes appear;
Oz's glory blinding ancient depraved kings.
The fire's wasted logs flaccid with despair
Left to time's inevitable decay
By nature's cruel wit unabashed, laying bare
Small-minded men seen close or far away.

Political ****** lining
their pockets with gold,
mined with the blood
of America’s youth
**** the world
and all who would
rule it!
Who asked you to ****
for liberty or cheap oil?
The spoils of war will
not buy you a reprieve
from perditions flame
or indeed a single extra
day in the world of the
living...
But then, what do you care?

You are dead already.

Someday I will think of you and smile...

But not today

Today I will miss you
Today I will walk in your garden
and you will not be there
And today I will sit alone by the
stream weaving words alone

But someday I will hear laughter
and think of you
And someday I will walk in my own
garden and you will be beside me
And someday my heart will be filled
with joy remembering the friendship
we shared...

But not today

A genuine love,
If only for a moment,
Is eternal bliss.

Infatuation,
Though it may last a lifetime,
Dies with the body

A ****** on the wing
makes me wonder
why this thing
keeps turning
and burning
while mankind’s
yearning is never
satisfied.
And the stars shine
And this is mine
And that belongs
to you
And all we can do
is cry for yesterday’s
abandoned innocence
and mourn tomorrow’s
faded expectation.

1 In the beginning man created God
2 And God was without form, and without name; and the concepts of man had yet to be imposed upon God
3 Peace and tolerance ruled the land and from this tranquility, light entered the world
4 And man saw the light, that it was good
5 And man called the light knowledge, and he divided the light from the darkness from which it had come, and the darkness he called ignorance, and hence, division entered the world.
6 And man said,” let there be a separation in the midst of the world, and let us divide the ignorant from the enlightened”, and the enlightened he called righteous, and the ignorant he called wicked, and thus duality came into being.
7 And man looked up to the sky from which the light came, and he called the sky Heaven. And he placed his God in this Heaven and thus separated God from mankind. And he called this separated land where God no longer resided Hell, and thus evil was given a place of its own.

Nothing to do with shampoo bottles, empty or otherwise I'm afraid. Just some rambling nonsense from an over stressed imagination.


Sitting alone
listening to
tunes Lennon
never lived to write
I find the sight of
sunlight streaming
through the blinds
quite depressing

I'm guessing I should
say **** it and pull
the trigger but the
bigger picture looms
large before me

The contemporary
decay of society
more than I can
tackle at this crackling
moment of existence
but tomorrow after all,
is another day.

Look at that!
Three choppy
little verses all
much too sad to
ignore
(leading now
to number four)

Hey, how bout a joke?
An Irish bloke walks
past a pub...

What? It could happen

Blimey, me rhymes
a sodden mess.
I guess I'll hang it up
for the night and fight
the great fight in the
morning. If you've
read this far, you've
got my gratitude.

(And sympathy)

Through a morning rain
I hear the voice of nature
Laughing at my sins

When on Sunday I kneel and pray
Before the altar of man’s decay
I look up at the Christ and
I hear him say: “It’s time for you to go.

Reality lies within your dreams
and only you know what that means
But I can’t tell you a single thing
you don’t already know”.

So I walk out across the floor
Past the choir and out the door
Remembering things
I knew before...

When I was a younger man.

‘Together we march
in lockstep precision
Shouting on high our
collective decision’

"NO!"

'But you haven't considered...'

"NO"!

'But you deliver nothing
in the way of...'

"NO!"

'What do you say about...'

"NO!"

'I know you have your doubts,
but we can discuss...'

"NO!"

'If you would only just listen...'

"NO!"

'Fine then! Just stand there like
a glistening wall while our country
falls to pieces'!

"NO! Er, um, I mean look everyone!
The liberals say our country is falling
to pieces! They hate America!"

This really isn't Heaven
and it ain’t exactly Hell
A fleeting glimpse of
freedom at the bottom
of a well.
They say they’ve got
the answers in their
jaded Holy book
And they tell me I’ll find
Jesus if I stop and take
a look.
Existence is a strange thing
and death is stranger still
And they say there’s no
religion in those tiny little
pills.
But what the hell do they know
in their ivory covered halls
When the devil’s on the
rampage and he’s got you
by the *****.

And the pain is never ending
in that cold and empty pew
God has left the building
he’s got better things to do.

The product
of imagination's
meandering bliss
This long sought
after truth an
uncouth concept
in the beholder’s eye
Naught but a way to
disguise the fear of
mankind's inevitable
demise.

(Hell of a thing to base a life upon)

Man can it get any worse than this?
Aimless verse floats in space and time
until I’m sick of the shtick coming out
of my head.

Dead words on a wasted pages scream
rages to no one in particular.

Great! Now I have to find a rhyme
for particular.
Vernicular?
Absurd, not a real word.

Poetic license I believe allows
for nonsense I conceive.

Past 25 or 6 to 4.

Christ what a bore it is to exist
in the here and now

The child opens his eyes and sees
a million points of light, each one
an open door to an endless
possibility.
The adolescent opens his eyes
and sees a hundred thousand
points of light, each one a door
to new hopes and adventures
The adult opens his eyes and sees
a few hundred points of light,
each one a door beckoning him
to new experiences
The retiree opens his eyes and sees
perhaps a dozen points of light, each
one a door, welcoming him to well
earned relaxation
The old man opens his eyes
and sees but one dimly lit point
of light coming from a single door
from which he hears his name
gently being called
In trepidation, he closes his eyes
and walks slowly towards that
final door, and nervously passes
over it's dark threshold

When he opens his eyes,
he is a child with a million
points of light before him,
each one an open door to
an endless possibility.

Sunlight glistens.
I listen to butterfly
wings as a lark sings  
a song from a departed
age.
Lost in a dream life seems
empty and void of substance.
The wind is still and a chill
grips bones that tremble
alone in the dim twilight
awaiting morning's
consoling bliss.

One for all and all for one
We’re together everyone
We’re together one and all
Though our voice is rather small
Even though our voice is small
We’re together one and all
Getting louder everyday
Growing strong in every way
Growing strong and getting loud
Standing tall and standing proud

Pretty soon they’ll here our cry
From every corner of the sky
Crying out for liberty
Stop the killing
Let them be
Can you hear me Sarah P
If they die then they ain’t free
If you **** them one and all
Then you've only built a wall
Built a wall and locked the door

Complete madness
settles upon the masses
leaving ***** exposed to
the unadulterated *******
of society’s collective wit.
Christianity’s **** will hit
the fan before man awakens
and dispenses with the mistaken
notion of this delusional existence.
The metaphorical distance between
life and death is but the breadth of
a hair in the universal cosmic order
we call reality.

Few dare to
moo at the
zoo.
They sit quietly
on their ***
in the grass
praising the
stench of the
pew.

What else can
they do?

Paradise within.
Sin vanishes with
the light.
The night has passed.
At last salvation and
reconciliation with
God.
Eternity in a drop
of water.
Forever in a grain of
sand.

Restless thoughts pervade
A slow rain begins to fall
Madness washed away

Wrapping my mind
around the blind
ambition of youth
The truth lies
between the
two extremes
of melancholy
and desperation.
Loss of sensation
follows the hollow
echo of mankind's
first glimpse into
eternity’s cataclysmic
abyss

No theology
And no ideology

The sound of one hand...

All sin begins
with *******
leading to ***,
birth and life on
earth, but somehow
(if we believe the pew)
all but a single Jew
are born in sin while
forgiveness is reserved
for the picks of the herd
trampling slothful runts
beneath ***** and sweaty
***** on their way up the
Holy ladder to salvation's
elusive shore where matter
and spirit become one in
the Son's immaculate vision
of the united division of
imperfect man.
Meanwhile, we lesser beasts
are cursed with damnation
eternal both on earth and the
infernal regions until the season
of the Jew's expected return.

Burn it all...

It's *******.

No sin
No beginning
No end

No sending it out to
laundry like tailored
sheets to be returned
with fashionable pleats
in all the right places
Sad faces
Too many **** sad faces
Forgiveness is an elusive
***** these days, her gray
shadow an unrealized
contrast to our delusional
perceptions.

We can’t forget our
nightmares
And we can’t recall
our dreams
While everything
is illusion
No matter how it
seems
But somewhere in
the darkness
There’s a tiny fading
light
And all I can do
is pray that you
find shelter in the
night

A man will know
his enemies
And a woman know
her friends
While the bishop
on his chess board
Only knows how
to pretend
And the Christian
looks for answers
In his ancient
Holy book
But the answers lie
in the children’s eyes
if he would only stop
and look

A day is gone forever
in the moment that
it ends
While a memory is
eternal
If we share it with
a friend
And the universe
will answer
If we listen for
the call
But we will have
to find a quiet place
because it’s voice
is rather small…

Not yet the morning comes.
It’s not time for our embrace
to end.
My soul for another moment
to hold you in my arms.
My soul to feel you next to me
a moment longer.
Soon light will enter our world.
The minutes even now are quickly
passing
It’s almost time my love.
It’s almost time to leave your side.
We have but a few lingering seconds
to be together and then I must go.

But not yet the morning comes.

Veiled whispers startle
my polluted soul and
from the shadows she
appears.
Her hollow words pierce
the wind like soaring birds
and whither tomorrow’s
fragrant bloom.

The room spins.

Sins unfold upon
cold satin sheets.

Death's ritual accomplished
she departs leaving my heart
an empty shell swelling with
despair.

The unholy loss
of yesterday's bliss
and tomorrow’s fragrant
innocence.

Dead
Lost
The cost of redemption
too high for humanities
dregs to bare
There is no longer light
at the tunnel's end
and my mirrored friend's
eyes are vacant with
tomorrows lost
expectation...
When will the pain end
and the sun rise on the
morning of our soul's
desolation?
Droll preachers intone
empty words of pity
from the ancient book
they've been bred to
recite.

Whiskey or beer might
illuminate the darkness
better.

The forest lingers
in the twilight
of God’s eternal
oblivion while
proud limbs
bend silently
in the cradle
of Autumn’s
loving embrace

The time of man’s
dominion over the
Yew and the Ash
is long past

The mighty Oak
no longer fears
the reaper’s foul
blade for we have
unleashed the sword
of ignorance upon
our own kind

In the end
all that will be left
is the serenity
of the trees

Winds of unknowing
blowing through
my tattered memory
A clamorous howl
wailing in desperation
for understanding and
forgiveness
The well of compassion
dry and void of mercy
while realities fragile
tether long since severed
is left unattended to blow
madly in the tempest
of a meandering
insanity

Calico Zombies wander
the neon gardens of the
American night grasping
aimlessly for connections
their erections ignored by
the ****** in the doorways
along 5th avenue.

“We are unique”.
“We are calico”.

The mantra of a hundred
million lemmings fading in
the moonlight as they slowly
drown beneath the waves of
their own exclusive ignorance.

The fire burning.

The liar turning
away from realities
decomposing core
while the doors
of perception
remain barred to
all but a privileged
few.
Truth lies not within
abandoned pews or
the Jew’s unread book
but in eyes willing to
look beyond the concept
of time and space to the
place where nothingness
and being coexist without
apprehension

Brothers and sisters
you’ve got it all wrong
You're humming the
chorus but don’t know
the song
Put down your Bibles
and get off your knees
Get out in the sunlight
and into the trees
The poor and the hungry
are waiting for you
The sick and the homeless
and downtrodden too.
For this is the message
you all fail to see
'What you do unto them,
you do unto Me.'

My years spent
kneeling before
Holy words
amounted to naught
but absurd notions
of divinity.
Wasted time
lost to eternal
ignorance.
Better I had  spent
the time on the sublime
ramblings of Nietzsche
or Thomas rather than
the insane promise of
divinity’s celestial return

Wake up children.
The night has passed
and at last we are free
to hurl ignorance back
into the void from which
it came.

The game is on
It's called life
Go and play

The lonely spider
Weaving strands in the moonlight
A vivid sermon

Virtue and sadness
Two sides of a single coin
Anyone have change?

Lying in the shadow
of a harvest moon
Soon sleep will be
upon me and I will
meander between
dream and nightmare
until mighty Helios
rises in the eastern
sky to drag me from
a lover’s passionate
embrace or calamities
indifferent layer.
Dream and nightmare
They do not vanish
with the waking sun
All of life is but a
delusional vision
of the psyche
A mirage conjured from
the essence of our souls
true understanding of
reality.

Few outside the
temple or asylum
understand this...

Serpent of Eden
Your gift of liberation
A curse or blessing?

Within the glade
comes the parade
of the yellow lizards
with the wizard in blue
leading the way
to the place where
faces are never shown
and rotting flesh clings
to bones brittle and old
and exceptionally cold.
Along the way I see
the decay and in haste
I quicken my pace
turning my face away
as the wizards yellow lizards
look on in obedient disgrace.
It’s all a blur as I awaken
with the mistaken illusion
of the nights terrible
passing.
Was it just a dream?
Isn’t everything?

The world falls apart
All our dreams reduced to ash
Clouds pass unaware

Far in the distance
The sound of one hand clapping
Echoes through my soul

In my search for truth
I knelt on the temple floor
Sore knees were my prize

Nothing to forgive.
No desire or memory.
Everything cast into the
Hell I’ve created for myself.
Nightfall.
Slumber and the myth of
inner peace.
Moon casts shadows upon
the vanity of man.
First light.
Awaken.
Memory of dreams passes.
It’s time to abandon the
place of my salvation.

Walking down Fifth Avenue
on a Sunday afternoon.
Shuffling to the rhythm
of the ghetto’s tortured
brilliance.
African Mozarts fill the air
with their street corner
symphonies.
Silence ensues as a slow
rain begins to fall.
The lively street soon becomes
deserted, a shadow of an ancient
memory.
Turning left on Fifty Second.
A couple huddling in a doorway.
They manage a smile as the
lingering rain continues unabated.