Abstracted Painting
.
print in
.
black and white
,
as if
,
they paint
,
the page
.
hues of blues
.
or of
.
Langston Hughes
.
the page roils the spirits
.
to anger red
.
that fades
.
to shades
.
to purples and blues

Avante-Garde, Hipster, Beat Poet Words and sound of Celebration
Graphic Painting done by me Shamus.Media,Arts
www,shamusmediarts.com  © a month ago, SilverSilkenTongue

Traffic sound
.
continuous drown
.
diesel truck exhaust
.
in down shift
.
thoughts drift
.
down past highways
.
in motel daze
.
eyes glazed
.
flashing neon
.
no vacancy
.
Jack Kerouac
.
once slept here
.
as if it matters
.
to anyone
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Word Thugs with twitchin’ *******
got Nothing. So they steal
so they can make their **** real

Scumbag Soliloquists Rant
they’re Plagiarism ascant, but
Stolen Words won’t make them a Poet

Got a word homie
won’t put up with ****

Dead punk poets
gonna get their
vowels slit…

Their words ain’t
nothing but stolen
Bust them slackers

Don’t matter
they got backers
them all’s word hackers

if they had to write their own
their junk would be funk
‘*** they ain’t nothin’
But Poet Punks



I used to Love this Place now half my likes
are blank gray squares No one there
those accounts are deleted and HP defeated

I have had a lot of wonderful friends here
Who I love and respect but now the sites
Not worth my time

The grass and brush grow high.....
below the the rusted rails in the sky
Fate sealed, the aged red paint peels
on the sides of the House of Mirrors

Roller Coaster cars splay in disarray
ruined faded horses found flounder
At angles on the Merry go Round
the wind in silent breeze the only sound

The bit of broken light bulb glass reflected
By the sun, faint echos of fun from the past
the click clack click clack of the coaster tracks
cars at the peak speed in curves and swerves

Drifting thoughts of yesterdays dreams.....
with side show prizes, kids laugh and scream
As carnival barkers shout out their routines  
Sun blazing the fun of yesterdays scene  

Although nothing but a mere memory

Texas 1959, And today Out of Time
Oswald...  The CIA Admits As Role Prime
To Play Lee Harvey... Until the Time
He could be used... And hid behind

The Asassination of Castro He Failed
Still Playing Him along... to their Avail
The Victim of the Ruse.....
Never Realised his Use..... in the End

They Plied him with *****.....
Hookers  and  Promises.....
Trips to Cuba and Secret Meetings
A Snipers Rifle with Desperate Leanings

Keeping him fed with Lies
The CIA Cast the Die
Feeling Let down by JFK that Day
Over the "Bay of Pigs"

His Truce they regarded For
A weakness that Moscow
Would Subvert Somehow
For the President Folded

Then Came that Fatal Texas Day
In 1963, Lee Harvey at the Depository
Smiling Waving JFK in a.....
White Lincoln Town Car Parade

The Shot Rang out where he sat
Blood splattered on Jackie's Pillbox Hat
Jack Ruby ready was Very Fast
To make sure the Truth Didn't Last

The CIA Made Numerous Omisions
Of Evidence to the Investigation Commision
Keeping it all Hid away, Till the CIA Historian
Opened the file of Lies, from the day.....

The President Died....................................


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Flows of Tears...
For all these Years
Lost in Empty Promised Land..... The
Familiar Feel of the Back of the Hand

Stumbling in the Door in the Night
A bruised Head Stare in the Morning Light
Funny can't Recall what Started the Fight
After the Bar had closed.....

The Stab slammed Between the Eyes
The Familiar Sound of the Lies
The Cough of the Morning Cigarette
The Nagging Feeling of Regret

In my Heart there's an Ache
How Much More can I Take
This has Gone on for..... A
Long Long Time,,,,,,

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A spark... of Creation
Ignites a Tinder of Thinking
Setting a Blaze of Concept
Catching Fire to a Thought
That Blaze Forms
The Idea...
Carrying the Brilliance
To the Future... Until
Its Flames Subdue
And Slowly Glowing  Embers
Become White Ash of the Past....

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Freedoms Shot Down by Bullets of fear
The Fascist Faces Arise in the Crowd
As The Elections of Politicians draws near
The Neo Nazis and KKK Proclaim out loud
The Boasting and Bashing of Religion and Race
Stares America Right in the Face.....
Will you Stand and arise to Fight of Note?
Then Get off Your ***** and.....
GET OUT AND VOTE!!!!!!!

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Running as Black Shadow Shards,
Cut out Between the Stabs of Light.
A Prism of Fear, Refracts shades of Gray,
The Cold Blade of of My Own Fear
Holding me Hostage to the Past
Heart Beating and Pumping,
Beating and Pumping Adrenaline
As I stumble in the Darkness
Only to Hear the Blast From the Past
But, I never heard the bullet.......

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Past Prejudices arise Again,
Feed a Feast of Fear to them
Prey upon their Greatest fears
And Raise a Fascist tide

Let Loose the Tide of Lies
Greased by Economic ties
Lubes the Rails of Ruin, And
Veils the Dawning of the Truth

Brave they Are, who have
Never seen the Rise of Battle
Willing to sacrifice, those who are...
as if to War, the Chaf and Chattel

The Leaders Lead us into Pens
To leash us to Ideologies in Need
To Insure the remaining 1 percent
That they can fulfill their greed

Glutting on the Middle class, and
Feast upon the Poor, to upraise
The Pile of Bones Before, Each
Fat and Wanton Priviledged Bore

For us a need, is all that we Possess
Feeling Lost, all in Due Process
Yet Voices can be Heard and Votes
It seems only to be  logical.....

WE CAN SLAY...the Necrological


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lost echo's of past speeches
into the silence reaches
deaf ears worn and tired
of pundits recently expired
cut by the votes not acquired
phrases left uninspired, to
levy the taxes required, for
visions  of  political  spires
the confetti and ballots left
of the candidate now bereft
the slogans all slaughtered
by means of political machines
as the campaigns death left
a soliloquy of silence


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The word escapes me
Hidden in the death and Carnage
Je veux pleuer pour Paris, Je suis Enraged
Shot Like Cattle at Slaughter, in a
Strange Night in Paris amid the Bistros
Voulez-vous etre mon amies Parisians
In the Night a Rose Cries Tears of Petals
Its Scent mingled with the smell of Gun Shells
And after all the feelings...the word escapes me


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Explosion of Aggrevation
Misunderstood relation
Wrapprd in words of Doom
Where thoughts of Hope
Die upon the Bloom
Your words of Damnation
Ignore my Isolation
Forshadows of Events not seen
Proclaiming  all the Signs
Yet blind to what's in front of your eyes
And thats why I cry


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Time is Fluid
Floating in the NOW
Its something I have no control over
I am swallowed in the Folds of Time
In search of the Spark of Creation
Like a Photon I can't decide if I am a Particle or a Wave
So I float in the NOW a speck creating ripples,
Into The Light


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Irish Immigrants found
when they stepped
Onto the Ground,
Their Pockets full of
Donnegal Potatoes.
The Dirt beneath their Nails
Was a Mark of how they'd Failed
Famine and Starving brought them
But the Slurs of the Dublin Micks
From those who Looked Down on them
Determined them to Show off their Pride
Some, teamsters worked horses and Frieght
Some nimble fingers Stitched Linen and Lace
Some Irish tenors the Rage of the Stage
Some with a Swing were the Sting of the Ring
Bringing down Boxers Seasoned Sparring
Fiddlers fiddled and coleens were maids
And through it all Heads held High
Shined the Gleem of Irish Pride

There once was a poet quite noted
Who's adam's apple was Amply Throated
I'd make a guess, plums hung in that dress
And more then her legs did get shaved

Please feel Free to Rut among my Poetry
Snouts to the Job Curled tail Swings free
Your Ire Plops in small hard Turds
All because you Hate my words.....
When views of life escape your own
Its almost like your Bacon on the Bone
It seems your views Land in your Sty
But all pigs need a Place to lie.....

Lost in thoughts
Circling in my head
Ascending the Stairs
Of Conceptual Treads
Tracing the Logic to
Its final Conclusion
Separating Facts
From illusions
Till lightening
Strikes a photon Wave
Surf Board up I ride
Upon the Crest I stay
Riding the Momentum
of this logical Array
as it Carries me away

Raise a Glass to those not here,
The ones who Pledged to fight
Ignorance and Fear.....
Armed with Pride and Valor
Those who have our Backs and
Make Life Safe, Sweet and Good
So raise a Glass to this Brotherhood
In thanks for all the care they give
To ensure when the Bell Tolls
Its their sacrifice for those who Live


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Along the Valley
Of the Mississippi
Bluffs and Banks
Covered in trees
Whisper barely
In the Summers
Breeze,
Content to hang
In the Humidity
As Fall Comes
With Oranges
Yellows and Russets
The Rustle becomes
A Whisper from
Tree to tree, of
The Coming Soon
Wintery, they say
Their Goodbyes
With Soft Leafy
Sighs, and Promise
In the spring to meet
And for those not there
They will Morn the Passing
Bringing Blooms to their Graves

the world of the Creative
is Egocentrically Positive
Like the Barking of Dogmas
Baring Teeth Like Logic Jaw
Lost in a Magical Madness
Creative Collect like molecules
revolving in shared Spark
illuminating the Dark
Alpha Neural Synapse of Light
in Creation of the Thought or Sight
Cast into the Universe to be Caught
in the Masses Nueral Net


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Text that echoes in the Matrix Silence,
Untold Waiting in Code, for essence
Parked with in a Servers bin, a bit of Cache
Complacent amid the encrypted path
Leading to a url IP Ethernet...
Waiting for a Comment

Sleep Stalks Me, through the day
Hypnotizing Me, in its own way
Nodding Off, in seconds lost
Wasted Moments, lost time, the Cost

Achievements to work through
While I have such things to do.....
The Alarm Goes off, and I sleep through
Burdened by My mind persued.

By the chemicals within my brain
Leaving me feel totally drained
A good night Sleep, I do desire
With Medical Help, I will Aquire


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On a visit to London I got to go, to one of London's Famous Music
Clubs. I was enjoying The Pints Of Guinness, and the Beautiful
and Lovely London Ladies.The Euro Techno pop was Blastin'
British Bums in an ocean in motion. All in All an amazing Night, soon
it was time to hit the loo as they say.I grabbed a Stall and Sat down and
settled in to take a dump, when OUCH!I felt a Jab in my ****
I looked between my legs and didn't see anything. *****
I wondered I started in taking my Dump and felt another
Jab in my But OUCH!! I finally Rolled a Hip up... and
there was a tiny British rocker with an electric Guitar
Standing at the edge of the Bowl, he Yelled out don't **** on
meee... startled I asked what he was doing there. He
Told me he had a Gig in Dublin and after The Bar Closed
he grabbed a Lepreuchan by the Scruff of the Neck...
thinking he was Hallucinating, the Leprechaun begged to be
let go offering to grant me one wish, I told him, thinking of the Band
" I want a Grand Tour," Being old and hard of hearing he thought I
said a Ground Sewer and my life has Been **** Ever Since.......


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17 blossoms and
each bud unfolds
the blossoming of
untold tales

The Autumn Sun Rise
Lifts the Mists as the
Journey of the Loon
Takes  Flight


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When you Live by a Rail Road Tracks...
Behind the House in the, Yard in the Back
When I was young I heard the Rumble of it
Coming to Carry the grain from our Grainery
But no sound of Locomotive hums in the rail
The Grain's now Hauled off by Grain Semi's
This Line got Cut in Budget Shifts.....
So now the only thing to Ride the Rail
Is the Snow as it blows and turns into Drifts
But, on windy Nights some say that
Ghost of the tracks of the Southern,
Blows its whistle as it Rolls Past...


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The heat had been Oppresive
Hung like a Curtain of Mist
Waiting for a Breeze to list
The Stillness that hung in the air
Should have been a warning of
What to beware, as Dark Clouds
Moving in from the west.....
Carrying the Cool air mass
As the rising heat fought
For control of the Cold
The wind speed Sheared
To levels well feared as
The Rumble of thunder
Shook the ground as
The branches of trees
Came crashing down
And a Lightening Strike
The Brightest of all Struck
To Turn night into Day
The way it rattled your Bones
And howling wind Moans
Gave rise to the feeling
That some one will die
With Lightening in the Valley
Thunder on the mountain
And Fire in the Sky

An ugly Ogre hid behind a tree
Just to see the Princess on her Steed
He thought the Princess So Lovely
He painted minerals on the Bark of a Tree

Each Day as She passed he etched Gently
Of her passing in beauty upon her Ride
He continued adding detail.....
On the Smooth bark side

A beautiful vision of his Love of Her
One day he was spotted*
By the Princesses Guard Who
Launched a spear into the Ogre

The Princess Rode over to see
And under the tree she saw
A Beautiful Painting of her on her Horse
When She realized soft tears fell

The Ogre Painted her Angelical
And from the Guard's Alarm
The Ogre was no harm.....
And the art of his Charm

Was eternally Lost...
The princess had the Painting
Hung in a small Garden...
*For one who Paid the Cost

Summer Heat...
It ripples off the Street
Like a Mirage of the Sea
Soccer ***** and the Voice
Of Mexican Children...

All shreaking at the Sound
Of the Ice Cream Vender
With Cold Treats coming around
The hum of thousands of AC's
Like the Swarming buzz of Bees

Working hard to keep their Cool
Hoses like green Snakes Coil
Sprinkler Heads Hissing
Their Message to the Grass
Rumble of a Harley Rolling by

Breaks the stillness of the heat
Its only Summertime........
On an American Street.....

i wake up dealing with the Fog in my head
trying to decide if I should get out of bed
i wonder if a i have a life anymore
it seems that i have friends no more
it seems that what i say makes people sore
my thoughts are haunting me to the core
when i think of everything, i think of all
the echo of silence bounces off the walls

Bourbon Street Jam
Wham Bam
Wham Bam
Gonna Bone her Ham

Black Beans and Rice
Make Her Shake it Nice
I'd be whacked if
I didn't Have her Back
Wham Bam
Wham Bam
Bourbon Street Jam

Gotta Move with your Krewe
So Shake it Shake it make it move
Word out to all you Partyer's
Gray Goose Make you Loose

Bourbon Street Gotta beat
Yeah Up!
Bourbon Street Gotta beat
Feel that Bead Heat

Give it up for the Krewe
Give it up for the Krewe
Bon Temp Roulle
Let Bourbon Madness
Take You Over Cher

French Quarter.....
Gonna take you there
Cat"s Meow Club at the
Corner of Bourbon and Orleans


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Soft wind off the lake
In the shadow of a tree
Driving Tiny waves to
Lap against the shore
Lull you with the song
Of A Warbler on a Branch

The coolness of the earth
Soothing the Mid Day Heat
As the Sound of Cicadas
Are Hushed by the call of the Loon
All upon a mid day Afternoon

The Sound of Laughter as Red Kites
Dance in the Air among the Clouds
The creak of Swings in full Motion
Lead to Day Dreamed Notions

Coolness sets in as the sun Sinks
A chorus of Tree frogs breaks
The Nights Silence

Shadows shift in the bloom
Of a Midsummers Moon


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I just saw a Man Who's Ego World Dwarf
All the Republicans who Have put forth
There announcement to run for the POTUS
And the Wisdom he Espised from the podium
Was shellacked with self spun bravada

His Claim to Fame in God's Name as
The Worlds Greatest Job Provider
Should in the Face of the Coming Race
Provide such Political Fodder

America he Said from his Enormous Head
Was nothing but a Nation of Stupid losers
The only safe Haven and path to the future
Was Guarded by a Caped Hero of the Dollar

In tights with a Diamond and T on his Chest
Red white and Blue Cape He Knew what's Best
He'd thru his vision change the Face of the World
And as he comes up with one, his plan will unfurl

As I watched CNN with a Chortle and a Laugh
If we Elect TRUMP for President its our own Gaff



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Words that fall collect
In phrases. and sentences.
Sometimes  in Cloud Bursts
Saturating the Soil of the Verse

At times they Shower so Light
As if to evaporate before reaching
The Parched Soil, Dry and wordless
A Dust of Letters blows up

Whirling in a cloud, A loud
Senseless fog, like a Shroud
Hiding the unseen word
From a poem never Heard

First time I stood On a corner
With a 6 String Yamaha and
A Marine Band Hoerner
Laying Down the Harmony
And bending the Blues.

Playing Some Neil Young
Blowing that Harp and
Singing that Song, it was
A Late March morning
And my fingers were Numb

Cold drizzle kept me Company
People stopped and listened
Tossed some cash in my Case
Headed off out of the Cold in Haste

I broke into the Rolling Stones
"You Cant Always Get What you Want"
I was just trying to get what I need...
Some Awesome long Hairs tossed in bills
Headed down to Taco Grande, got My Fill

Fat Bean Burrito, extra cheese and Onions
Wrapping My fingers around a Paper Cup,
The sweet Black Coffee warmed me up
Nineteen Feels like the King of the World

That Guitar Led to warmer Days, with
With Blushed cheeked Coeds Litin' a Jay
Down on the Lakes edge, Ended up laid

Those Songs and the Guitar Fed me for 2 years
And Much Later People would rush up
And Say "Do you Still play" remembering
the Harmonies Echoed, Between the Buildings
And drifting up the street, I have no Idea Who

Ten Thousand Passed by in the rain and the sun
But the song played on and never was Done
Kinda like Alice"s Resturant, they waited
To see if I remembered it all 20 minutes long.

Of all the Music, the one that paid the best
Was Arlo's Song, Time to strike a Match
And Light the ****....

To Harvest the Wheat of America.......

Oak, ash and hickory, raw from the saw
Ten thousand board Feet, Delivered
Fourteen foot long some 16 inches Wide

I helped plane all that wood,
When I was Just a boy, load after load
In the Time, I was just growing a spine

By 7th Grade I had, From how I was grown
"Long Shoreman's Syndrome"
The work had curved my Spine

By ten years old I worked with
10 Blade Saw running 10,000 RPM
It Could Imbed a Stick in heavy Drywall

The slats had to be shaped and Packed
In bundles of 50 or 100 And loaded on a Trailer
Weighing 25 to 35 lbs a piece.....
They Added to My Backs Failure

These Slats went on Combines that
Harvested the Wheat of America
So when I was a child I carried
The Bread of America on my back

Knowing I'm afraid to go to sleep
Nerves on end and rooted deep
It Creep's up on Me, this Denizen

Of Misery, This most foul Dream
Trapped within a Nightmare...
The fear becomes beyond compare.

In Longing Dark, I walk the Park
One step follows another and another
The Pain of the memories still Haunt

A little farther goes these Jaunts
Closer to the Rivers Edge and Bridge
Till steps Fall upon the Concrete
As the Sound echo's beneath my feet

Silently I climb the Rail praying I don't Fail
There upon the ledge, seeking for the Light
Whispering Silently I fall into the Night.....


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I sit here trying to decide what Writer influenced me,**

I had my Existentialist Period very young Jean Paul Sartre, seemed dark and Complex, but... Albert Camus Captured it for me, the Emergence of Allen Ginsberg, bridge the Atlantic...the Pop of music influenced it all, from the Doors to Dylan

But Deep Down in the Dark of My soul is Jack Kerouac"who I am sure must have been influenced by JD Salinger" From Keorouac, to Ken Keasy and Hunter Thompson seem to be a good place to end

Others such as e.e. cummings, James Baldwin, Carl Sandburg, Herman Hesse, J,R.R. Tolkien, Lewis Carol,  Issac Asimov. Robert Heinlein, and Stan Lee all had their places to... I feel Honored to be influenced By Such Amazing Talent.....

Corn Mash cookin' in the Georgia Pines
Mash fumes rising to a Chilled Copper line
Turning into a stream of droplets.....

Dripping steady to a Mason Jar
Boxed up in the Trunk of an
Old Rusted Chevy Car

With the Engine Bored and
The Suspension Heavy....
Made to handle old back roads

Offerin' up a taste to them of 'Shine
Goes down like the Devils Fire 'n
Burns ya like a Hell Fire Sermon

Standin' on a back road
In that hot Georgia sun
Cash Swaps Hands, the Sale is Done

Lightening kicks up some Nasty moods
Over Who's wrong and Who's right
'Til its blood on a Saturday Night  


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Silent Staunch The Sentry Stands
Guarding Graves of Grassy Fields
And Yesterday Afternoons

A Small Boy playing all the Men not in His Life
Forgetting Strife and Daily Deeds
Zones and Bonding, Contract Bidding
A Small Boy, still not too Old
The Cross Street Jungle Bought and Sold*
And all that's left.....

Silent Staunch the Sentry Stands
Guarding Graves of Grassy Fields
*And Yesterday Afternoons

Of Ancient Mushrooms you'll find
Growing in the wilds of every eon
And if you Find yourself lost in them
Amongst Faeries, Lizards, Elves, and Snakes
And the Forest Glows a Phosphorescent Green
Catch your Breath amid the Giggles let free
And hear the Elven Harps among the trees
Under giddy Spells of Mirth and Laughter
Soft thrum of Faerie Wings and Elven Chatter
The rising Sun Disolves the Mists of Mirth
And all the Magic drifts off from the Earth

Ansel Adams and Minor White
Both saw the Light reach to infinity...
Edward Weston and Imogen Cunningham
Created Art in black and white Photography

Revealing the unseen that's right
Before our Eyes in plain sight
The Click of a Shutter seals
What the Negative will reveal

What it lacks for color Fades
Viewed in black, gray, and white shades
Plucked out in Artistic Form in sight
The sway and flow of shadow and light

They taught fruit to be Art and
The desserts to flow like rivers
The sharp flow of Sand awash upon
The banks of the Dunes and gone


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I like to walk the bridge*
Between Fantasy.....
And Reality

I find an elation
Wondering which side
Of the Mirror I am on

Reflections and intersections
Of Memories Appear as if
They are Near, and

Not just shadows
Shifting and drifting
To nothing, and out
Of this Darkness

Leaps the Spark of Creation


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Icon of Fashion
Lady of Passion
She invented the
Fashion Show...

Replete with...
Art Deco Staging
Jazz Music Blazing
Young models sashay
On the Walkway

The Famed of the Arts
Were plied Champagne
From the Start as lithe
Long legged Models
Flirted and Flashed
Throwing Kisses to
The Amazed Crowd

Coco Channel and Ert'e
Dared to Dress as Men
Wearing Suits and silk ties
And swapping kisses and Sighs
In Paris nights of Long Ago

Fear is the silent Stalker
Hunting you within your mind

The taste of Cloves on
Cloven hoofed delicacies
Entice the Palette's elan
Often served with Yams
First smoked then slow roasted
At Holidays its often Toasted
And it makes one heck of
An Omlette with Cheese
Its certain to please

I sit wrapped in mist...
as the Fog Bank rolls in
on the shores of my mind

I find through an ocean
fed upon by the River Styx
lost in my own Complexity

Thoughts like confetti
float through the air
as if to Puzzle me to Dare

To arrange the Puzzle Pieces
of my life, while constantly bogged
in the mists of my own Mind

Sequential thoughts drifting
in the mists of time and place
as I continue to search for my face

Lost in the pile of puzzle pieces
a jumble in the duration of the
persistance of my procreation


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The Wrath of craven Masses Arise
All hunting for the Sacrifice
What thought or Image Should be cast
Like Books Upon the fires of the Iconoclast
As poet arise blazing Edgar Allen Poe in Eyes
Just as a raven crosses a Grave...
Searching for within whats saved
To savor the flavor of putrid Flesh
The Poet is obsessed for words to caress
Arousing his compulsive Chicaneries
And bearing a touch of Poe's Insanity


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In the Perceptions of Literal Hindsight
Albert Camus was Right.....