there in the imperfect silence of night
searching for embers of hope among the
burned bridges of your life
the driftwood theology of a wandering soul
wherever the tides take you
trying to find some token of salvation in
the star filled heavens
trying to find meanings in a grain of sand
as with any driftwood soul spend your days
searching for a shore to call your own
trying to find embers of hope in the
burning bridges of your life....
there in the imperfect silence of night
while you await sleep to overcome your busy busy mind
while you wait for the solace of letting go
drifting and dreaming
lost in the beautiful places that dreams take you
you find that the driftwood theology is a wonderful thing
carve your own inner beauty into the wood of the world
take the love i know you have in your heart
and give it as a gift to the world around you
and you will find that you are no longer driftwood
cast on the worlds stormy sea's
you will find you have always been home
right here in my heart

He scoops sands in baskets

then balancing neatly on the shoulder
carries to where needed
through bone breaking hours.

Upon his footprints is there a name
or a home
where he goes back for the night
lands featherlight kiss on a woman
awakes her sleepy bones with her hands
forgetting his days sinking in the sands.

Oh Cyrano, dear Cyrano
Monsieur, de Bergerac
Your nose was big, yes really big
Immense, “la tabernac”

You stuck it in, a love affair
And wrote, Roxanne some prose
She fell for it, to the extent
That then, she Christian chose

All those years, you pined for her
And wrote Christian, some more
But in the end, it wasn’t him
But the letters, she’d adore

So you were left, without her love
As if, it was to be
And it’s your prose, which did you in
How stupid, could you be

Before Roxanne, realized you lied
A log, did hit your head
You sadly came, to your demise
And your love, remained unsaid

And so, the moral of your story
Now, comes sadly to its close
Remember to be careful
Where you stick, your big fat nose
BOEMS BY JA 74

To my fellow poets who read my poems about drugs I want you to know I'm drug free.  I'm writing a poem that tells a story but I'm also writing individual poems about that story.