Light crests and wanes
swift
speed flicker
moon unsure.
Skin swells then thins
with heat
wind
destiny.
Radio blackout.
Alone
I think I
Touched
God.

I have been tethered
Weathered and withered
Blistered and bled
By these strings round my heart.

Six little strings
Keyed up and tightened
Heart-to-the-head
Til my fingers attend.

I've got everything I need
Satisfaction on my knee
Ain't no place that I can't go
With these six strings and a hole

I can strum some clouds on high
I can strum an Angel's cry
Pick my way through any day
I could pluck your Blues away

Just an old brown beat-up box
Seen its worst of dings and knocks
But it still sings true to me
I'll never let it go.

There is a space inside the Heart
A hollow bit with walls and room
To let in more than we assume
Could even ever fit there...

It stretches out and it expands
To fit the open hands and minds
Of lonely strangers and old friends...
It's such a lovely spot.

We should, I think, keep broom at hand
And Spring-Clean every once or twice
To make it nice and comfy soft
For visitors who stop here.

And even maybe sweep the steps
And offer up a sugar bowl
With creme and comfort and a spoon
Next' to the coffee ***.

There is a space inside the Heart
A little nitch (with room to spare)
I often find my self in there
Just waiting for a visit.

So come on in with Saint or Sin
(The Open Heart cannot define
The difference of the two)

The coffee's warm
and so's the beer...
I'll leave a light for you.

I woke up today.
Yay!

We have surely lost this war
Yet we linger on
To gather what few wits remain
And fight another dark day

We are gentleman, at least,
Killing each other
Only in the hours
Before suppertime.

When the swollen sunlight
On the distant Standing Oaks
Mimics the blooded field below
We set down our arms.

One weary lad climbs to the top of the hill
(We take turns...)
And blows a Hollow Tattoo
Calling us all away from Death,
For a while at least.

Ages ago
There was magic
In that Lovin' Spoonful
Song
There had been
Magic
In that
Life gone wrong
The wife
That Life
But...
But...
Somehow
Years and stone
Got in the way
Rolling on
Right back

Why did you think
It was a lie
When I said
"No.  I never called her"
But you believed that
I meant it
when I said
"No. That dress
DOESN'T make you
look fat"?

Well let me tell you bout' Amazing Grace
A Devil body and an Angel Face
When she kneels down on the barroom floor
She offers up forgiveness and a whole lot more

If it's redemption that you're trying to find
Her Absolution is one-of-a-kind
And I can attest that She can Blow Your Mind!
My Sweet Sweet Amazing Grace.

Her Patent Leathers are a sight to see
(If you look closely you'll know what I mean)
Her double pleated plaid skirt can knock you down
But then she'll raise you up boy
Without a doubt.

   She's such a Cutie
   A real Beauty but
    You wouldn't take her home to Mom...
   Daddy wouldn't mind it
    If you thought that you could find it
    To sneak him in the backseat and tag along...

So let me tell you bout' Amazing Grace
A Devil body and an Angel face
She'll let you baptize her all over her face
My Sweet Sweet Amazing Grace
(Gimme an AMEN!)
My Sweet Sweet Amazing Grace!

I have washed my ****** hands      
in the hope colored stream
of my own karma;
a futile attempt.
The waters cleansed my hands
But stained my soul with
The leprous audience of
The singularity of my being.

I have waded souldeep
Into the stained waters
Of my own karma;
A quantum baptism.
My sins and triumphs
My denials and truths lain bare,
Visions which burn into the circle
Of all that I was, am, and yet to be.

I have become the hope colored water
Of my own floundering fate.
I am the circle, the enigma;
I stand within and without.
I encompass myself
And wait to be born
Into a new solitude
Of radiant wonder.

Do not go there
Daughter Dear.
He is rough and
Smells of beer.
And I would not
Want you seen
On his loud
Two-wheeled machine.
He is not your
Type at all,
He's too handsome,
Strong and tall..
What would all the
Neighbors say
When they see you
Ride away
With your skirt all
Cinched-up high
With that Dark and
Handsome guy?
What? You say he
Has a job?
Educated?
Not a slob?
Well, I guess then,
Just one date.
I'll wait up though,
Don't be late.

I used to have a dozen hens
They laid a dozen eggs
And every egg hatched out a chick
With skinny chicken legs
And each and every one of them
They laid a dozen more
My poor old barnyard **** is tired
And really really sore.

Shimmering in your tomb dust
Unknown bride
Did you play
This wax and copper harp
Only for these clay attendees?
Did you love?
Does this new bright day offend thee?
Simmering in the old earth
With Regal Demise
Did you dance, once,
Just once?
Perhaps your heart is not jarred and coffined here,
But in the eye of some boy.
Did you love?
Is your antiquity for nothing?
Slumbering in the age of pages lost
To this tired, blind reader,
I wonder...
Were I to kiss your shrunken hand
Would you awaken?
Would you play again
That wax and copper harp?
Would you love?

I thought I heard you
Last Night
In the wind
Outside
An engine
In the Distance
Slicks-on-wet blacktop
No radio on
Just the engine
Just the Rubber
On the road
In the wind
Racing
Against the Night
Or with It
Speed-Love-Crazy
One hand
Wheel-tight
And one
Waving
As
You
Flew.

We shall pass away
Die
Before you
Or I
make a dusted nickle
from our sticky prevarications
Our summations
The declarations
Of self we purport
To be of some interest
To others  other than us

We shall fade like whispers
In a noisy room
With  OUR echoes
Muffled
Tucked away
Until we
Are dirt-bound

Oh, we will be remembered
Recalled
Even misquoted
After
After

And when we are dead
We
Will guide
The stars
In
New Poets' skies
And dust off those nickles
So that they shine

There is no bottom to "the drop"
there is wind
as you fall
and
time
slows
while
Your past grows
in the wind
and
time
so
enjoy the ride

Oh, Dark Science
Mysterious Gravity
I am moving
Nothing slows me
Towards that Center
Newton laughing
As I plummet
Up and outward
Her black heart
Heavy, waiting
Fractal Love
Never changing
Time slows down
I keep falling
Forever.

No poem.
No song.
Just the title.
That should be enough.
Six words.
Two more Than your last four-
"I love you, goodbye."
I can't even find
Rhyme
Nor reason
Why.
Oh well.
So long.
No poem.
No song.

Fragile and ****
Cold
Dark
Speed in between

Crystallized blue flame
Hard
Sharp
Mirror-shard dance

Beyond my eye-hand
Deep
Reach
Summer night dalliance.

Off the stove!
(that ****** cat.)
No! No! No! No!
(Not in my hat...!)
Your litter box
Is over there.
(But he just smiles.
  He doesn't care.
  My cat scats
  Cat ****
  Anywhere.)

Front door mewling,
Bloodied fur,
Beat to hell
But yet you purr.
Scraped and torn
You look a-fright!
"Need a drink!
****! What a night!"

Don't go leaping
Into water
chasing after
Cute disaster
Noughan's daughter
Sings to fishers
Young and old
they lose their decking
All their wishes
All  untold
Skinny boy or
Old man whiskers
drowned-a-calm
by Noughan's daughter
smiling even
as they're weeping
in the deep
where they lay
sleeping.

Rafael was deaf.
Those colors were only
Depth shadows
He heard
When his brushes
Sang quietly
Every morning.

Caravaggio was mute.
And thus he
Could not
Sing along
With Rafael's brushes
On those
Oily mornings.

Funny how their paintings sing to us.

She was the only son
Her father never had.
Her legs were lean and long,
Alas, her eyes were bad.
And then at Sweet Sixteen
Her Father drove her mad.
(A sicko is a ******, after all.)

And after ten long years
They set her on the street.
With a pretty dress
And new shoes on her feet.
And so she looks for Daddy...
Or any fresh, new meat.
(Cuz an axe is an axe, after all.)

Come gather round people, wherever you are
And hear this last song I play on my guitar
I've made one too many trips to the bar
And my voice is rapidly fading.
And the whiskey has gone straight to my head...
And these strings, they need a changing.
(goodnight)

She did not inherently enjoy
the work
It was often wet, and heavy
To pound and scrub and rinse away
his filth
his day stink
while whistling
in her thin summer dress
barefoot out in the backyard
(the only sweet touch she knew of him, the soft grass there.)

She did not find happiness or joy
in the work
He was often wet, and heavy.

In her dark childhood her mother had lied
(Dear Mother)
"Give all that you have to him Dear child
And you will find
Some small happiness"
(Oh, dear Mother).

She did not enjoy
the pain
of his pain he scrubbed over  her
wet and heavy
as he pounded and washed away
his day loss
his filth
whistling.

The Jesus in her knuckles
wept with every twist
of sock and collar
bled with every *****
of button sew.

And one drunk morning
she found him there
snuggled in his ***** puke
neck-tangled in the clothesline
blue and quiet.

The hole was easy
She had been digging a hole
for years
wet and heavy.

She whistles now and enjoys
the work
sun-dry and sweet
pinning her dresses
on the new rope
while she enjoys
the grass tickling her toes
(the only sweet touch she knew of him, the soft grass there.)

Icky things
with legs and wings
and oh! too many eyes!
Things what hide in shadow
spinning webs
and eating flies.
Little flying cobbies
(They are not there in the book
of insect or arachnid
though I often look and look...)
They were just too sneaky
to get written down
I s'poze...
Still I know they're
down there creeping
up onto my toes!

I run this muddy track on these big old shaky wheels
With numbers on my back and a helmet on my head.
I drive around in circles and they call me "Crazy Ed".
I drive. That's how I stay alive.  I just like how it feels.

I've got a batch of children and a drop-dead gorgeous wife.
She puts up with me when I leave to tinker on that wreck.
And all week long I'm trucking, gone, to earn an honest check.
And still she cheers for me each Sunday while I risk my life.

Someday I'll hang that helmet on the hook there by the door,
And toss away this mud-caked suit with "92" on back.
I'll give that gorgeous wife of mine a kiss, and *****-whack,
Then play around (in circles!) with my Kids there on the floor.

Funny that.
As the end nears
The music gets big.
When I should be paying attention
To the *****
And not
The noise...

Religious in essence
Yet so secular
And so widely applyable
Viable and undeniably
Sharp
Hard at both ends
A forged utterance
It holds a myriad multitude
Of Rude in its
Four little letters.
Oh, it can be used
In connection
With other invectives
Paired off with
Other Nouns
Like
God
It
You
But in truth
It stands tall
A giant hammer
Alone
By itself
It does not force
It
Simply
States

Slinky *****
with promises
prying my sleep
away
Warm and loud
Lying to me
Once I
Step outside
That my dreams
Of you
Would come true.
Let me go back
To your
Unforgiving sister
Night.

I never worry about nothing!

Oops...
double negative.
Oh, hell....

dark is not just
the absence of light
but the
lack of
the shadow
right
behind you
sneaking...

Dark is not the absence of light,
but the reflection
of those things
right
behind you, sneaking.

Honey won't you take me home?
I've been waiting all night long
Out here on this cold and lonely highway-
Open up your Buick Darlin'
Let me get warm.

I must be a sight to see-
In leathers and these ripped up jeans-
Won't you let me inside
And take me for a ride
Down your Dark Ohio Road?

I've been standing here for hours
Watching all the cars drive by-
Don't you think Baby that I've suffered enough?
Pull on over
Let me crawl inside.

I promise I won't ask for more...
And I won't tell a single soul...
If you pick me up and let me
Go for a ride
Down your Dark Ohio Road.

Cover my sins with halo gold,
my feet with olive green,
And kiss the ******
As they bury me.

Six can carry me
Out to the shore
While the gulf-sun settles
Away in the west.

Do this for me and I'll leave you my treasure
A hollow warm pocket
A painting  or two
And cast my illusions to
the winds and the sea.

Please do not cry at my overdue passing.
Laugh and imbibe
and stumble a while
and smile
at the space which
I've left here for you.

Love is a misfit gambol
A blind "hit me"
When you're holding eighteen.
Twenty One seems so far away,
Gambling a small tomorrow
With stolen chits.

He laughed boy-laugh
at Her ******
Her chin was high
when she hit
the water

Here's a little ***** ditty-
Ain't too long, or sweet, or pretty-
Kinda' short, won't take much time-
All about a gal I knew/

She was tall, bout' five foot nine-
Met me in a ***** alley-
Up there in that cold-*** city-
She was half as drunk as me/

What occurred then I'm not privy-
I woke up with sirens blaring-
Handcuffed in my skivvies, moaning-
In the lock-up. without pants/

Now I do a shameful dance-
wondering who just bailed me out-
Out there sits a hungry Chevy-
(better than a ***** alley!)

Here's a poem for all concerned about the ***** words I write/
Every night I wrestle with them, all the filth which I have learned/
All the strife I water down to soften up the reader's eye/
Trying not to bug or bother anyone with pristine ears/
I have years of cursing loudly/
I have scars to prove that's true/
Snotty women so offended, Bar-room tables up-side ended/
Walking home without a ride/
Deep in angry mumble walk/
Spouting each and every letter/
Feeling better as I vent/
Where I went or what I'd done/
All my sins were fun, it's true/
Hence I've put them down prosaic/
***** words from me, to you

I can not touch you from here.
What?
You want a rhyme
To go with that?
Is it
Not enough
To know
That
I have been
Stretching
Trying
To Reach you?

Now it's off to sleep, and may
I find a dream to dance inside,
to smile my eyes shut tightly wide,
before the morning prattles?

A pillow mountain, rivers deep,
and blanket castles while I sleep.
(My dog could care less, she just lumps,
and snuggles, till the day.)

God?  The Hereafter?  Jury's still out on that one.
I haven't heard any Angels weeping,
Tears of Redemption seeping into my
Sidewalk life.

You!  With the Suit... and the briefcase filled with default...
Your shoelace cost more than my last dinner.
From one Sinner to another, Brother
Spare a dime?

Job?  Would you hire me?  All streetdirt and hungry thin?
Would you take me in, clean me up all nice
Let me use your Old Spice and your razor?
I thought not.

I used to be you, you know.  Once upon a time
I had everything a man could ask for
And then one day, ****! it all fell away.
Here we are.

Sir.  I'll be honest.  Just a dollar, eight bits. Sir
I promise not to waste your hard-stolen buck
I'll invest it in the local street-trade
Safe-and-sound.

I'll be around here for the next few days in case
You feel the need to support my lost cause.
I won't follow you down the street Mister...
Got no legs.

God?  God wasn't there when that bomb took my legs
While I was dancing for your freedom fight,
Your tax-dollars bleeding out in some swamp...
Here we are.

Hell.  Hell wasn't the ***** war I got sent to.
Hell was coming home to no home waiting.
Just this sidewalk life here on the corner.
There you go...

Wife?  Oh yes indeed I had a beautiful wife.
Past tense.  Her, my legs, ****! All up and gone
But you're still here listening to my tale.
Worth your time?
Got a dime?

Bite me, Baby.
Take me down
Into your viral, hungry Limbo.
There we'll eat
The noisy neighbors
Wander through the streets
All night.
Naked but for
What cloth hangs on
To our slim decrepitude.
Bite me, Baby.
Hell don't want us.
Heaven's iffy
Anyway.
We won't need no shoes
Or money

I never argue with her
I simply give her
Anything she asks for
Silently
A minor fee
A quiet effort
Nothing, really
For what she gives me
A kiss
To keep me hushed
Happy
Mutely secure
Dumb and Lucky