Clay Formed and Molded.
Spun in the cycle of life



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I woke up with cold toes
And a Rosy nose.....



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Those who bear the Burden
See the Blues
And if you're feeling fine
You're in the Pink
When your Buried under Bills
You're in the Red
If your Born to the Purple
Your Royalty
When your seeing green
You are Mad and Jealous,
Or Really Happy
But when your Black
Nobody's got your Back*


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From fate blows the winds of Change
Rearranging all our Plans and goals.....
Events unseen can change your dreams
To where they feel Like Nightmares

It feels like we are so alone.....
Stumbling upon the unknown
Trying to grab for Something
And Coming up with Nothing

And when we fall, we feel all
Lost in limbo's listless thrall
All we can do in the end.......
Is accept what comes My Friend*


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I want to Thank You
For Your Appreciation
And Support.......



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Verse that sounds so bold,
Is penned by poets 'ere old
A more Stylish Tome.....
Becomes a Sage Poem

The Presence of the Verse
Is not enhanced by your age
But the age of your Poetry
Old or Young the poet may Be

And be a true sage poet
Ten Thousand words all
Polished and Hewed to
Seer your poets soul

Opens up your soul to all
To show the world you made,
Infinite within your Heart
A Sage Poet you'll be called

Each day is a photograph
Of images we leave behind




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It always seems that
Endeavors lead
To broken dreams
When all your life
You were told
You are a Failure

The seed they plant
Grows to flower
And leaves you with
A lack of power
And Persistance

Upon their assured
Insistence that you're
Just a door ****
Your futures stolen
Your soul is robbed

They need to see
Its easier to raise
A Boy with praise
Then have to fix
A broken man


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The Blast of wood and glass
Erupts Like Blooms of Flame
The First responders Arrive
Purely for the Clean up and Blame

It Came from the Kitchen
Investigators search debris
Hot ash and Smoke hover
Embers glow and Flare over

A woman rushes up
Begging a Fireman
Please tell me...
Did my mother Live?

There were no survivors
I am Sorry to say
She began Crying away
Sobbing Through tears to say

Mother Texted me today**
Cancer... they say
I just want one last cigarette
Before I go Away..........

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I think Women are Hot and.
Should be shown respect
And all though I get *****
I take time to Listen

Can't get into Sports Teams
Know's what fashion is a Dream
Of Bob Mackie, Calvin Klien
Versace, Chanel, and Ralph Lauren

In the Kitchen I create with Panache
Tenderloin of Beef with Marsalle Sauce
Vintage Recipe Chocolate Cake at
Proper Temperature I Bake 'til Perfect

And shopping is a Spree as
Long as its not for me
Rather Shop a Bra for a set of knockers
Then Shop for a Pair of Kahki Dockers

When it Comes to Culture I am Allured
To Poetry, Art, Music and Stage
And so ever fond of thespians
Could it Be I'm a Male Lesbian


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I pried the Words off the Wall
Rearranged and used them All
Stacked upon each other in
A sentence Said with Style

Coco Chanel And Ert'e Flaunt
Lesbian Fashion In chic Paris Haunts,
In the 1920s, While Albert Camus
Late Night Parties Extistentialist Claims
Amid ****** and Champage

Django Rienhardt Played Jazz Guitar
To the West Bank Artists in Bars,
Toulouse Lautrec had Drank
With Prostitutes, in Art Deco

Frank Loyd Wright Praised
In Architect Circles
How He has Designed
The Unfolding of the Future

The Camera Has Brought
Sharp Images to see
While emergence of Psychology
Has driven Art into the Abstract

Paris in the 20's scent of*
Hedonist Creativity
Cultural Gravity
To the Inclined

De rien, entre amis
Prende un jour a la fois



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The Back Beat of the Bass, In a Bourbon infused bar
Smooth to the bend of , The blues note Guitar
Saxman whail's to the, Smoky Slow Blues Singer
And Drummer riffs off , A High Hat Brush Stinger

The Piano Man lays down, A Slow soft tune
As the Vocals Stir the mix, In a Soft **** Croon
People dance so close, It Shuts out the World
Lost in Love, Lust, & Bourban.....

Bartender sets up another Round
As the Crowd of the room, Soaks up the Sound.....
Toker's Blowin'  Smoke, Hid in the hall by the Johns
The Bars Mood Sways...As the music Carries on

A Patron at the Bar, Orders up another beer
And the Dancers Float, Across the Dance Floor
The Glow of Neon Spills, Colored Red Lights....
A Soft **** Setting, For a Memorable Night

The Guests all begged and, Pleaded for an Encore
So the band fired up... Just one more
All on A Saturday night.....JMF 1/31/15


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Tendrils of Alien Anime Lunge
Wide Eyed Innocent gets plunged


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Oodles of Noodles and Broth
For not many Pennies Cost



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Depravity Acts Like Gravity
Bringing you down
to Chaos and Degradation

And Degenerating Entropy
Trapped in a Path of Iniquity
Engorging an Extremity

To part the Lips of Life and Love
Enshrouding all that would shove
Pursuant to the path to Ecstasy


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CEO's buy Corporate **'s with
Shareholders Financial Invested Stock Portfolios

Having felt betrayed and weak
Tears run down my cheek......

She Paced in the night
Her Mirad Jewels
Dancing in the Moonlight
With each silent Step

Gold Flecks in Cats Eyes
Adorned in Opals
The Royal Beast Arises
Playing the Pets Part

Jungle Beast at Heart
She walks the edge
Prowling her eyes Dart
Searching for prey

Later Content within
Bones Discarded
As Blood drips
From her Chin

She Mingles Among
The other Guests
Emerald Jewels
Upon her *******

Mesmerizing her Prey
As they Herd like Victims
Safety in Numbers
Until she Hunts Another Day


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Some thoughts are
Just Farts Echoing
In the Chambers
Of your Mind.....

Bullfrog on Lillypad Awaits
Dragonfly eaten, to Sounds of Loons

The Black Queen of
The Hacker Scene
Blood Goth Style
And Silent Screams

Her Coding Skills
Were yet Unseen
Many were 'pwned'
By her Data Schemes

'Til she tried to crack
The Encrytion on the
Pentagons firewall
It was Her Down Fall

She got the Option
Prison Time or
Work for them
Fighting this crime

She ended up meeting
Darren who was her
Carmel Candy Joy
Their chats dripped with Cloy

She started with the FBI BAU
Cracking info and Flirts with Darren
She tracked signals world wide
Till the IP was Enprisoned

Cracking Data to Criminal Minds
What ever they ask she can find
And she's anticipated like a digital
Reader of Minds, A Fashion Fatale'

Bright pink Pigtails and
Blue Cats Eyed Glasses
With Glitter Lashes
She's a Digital Data Diva


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they say that Time is
passing, but we pass Time

When antiquated tenets presume
Like Pyramids entombed
Buried Deep within sand Dunes

Old adages must be discerned
To bring this all to light
Mind and Soul begin Insight

That Contempt  beguiles
Juggling Words and phrases
For modern philosophies  

To find an Empty Concept
Lead by an inept Prophet
Who's vision awaits begetting

As I am ambivalent to
What is said to come
So no time's wasted

From awaiting the Event.....


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To all the Poets who work so Hard
To bring us their Precious Words
And tell us of their Tears and Fears

To all the Poets who work so dear
To tell us Magic tales of yore
Clashing swords and Dragons roar

To all the Poets who work so long
Juggling Words to bring them on
And express the Fights all won

To all the Poets who clever Phrase
Your words put us into a Daze
And, this poem's to Rave your Praise

This Poem's your Laurels to Honor you...


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Longing Passions, that you desire
Fanning Flames, of Fleshly Fires

People always say
That crime Don't Pay
But there are always
Those who try to beat it

A Guy Named Stan thought
He was the Man with the Plan
All he needed was the  guy to
Bypass the Electric Alarms

He looked up an old Buddy
Someone he could trust
Once the Alarm was dead
There was a Back door to bust

Sitting waiting was a Companies
Payroll over Thirty Grand
They Pried open the Safe
And got what was at Hand

Stan kneeled and passed
the Money to his Buddy
Holding onto The Sack
Glad the Guy had his back

As he looked up from the Safe
Square into the Barrel of a Gun
Stan knew the plan was done
The Crack of a .32 took his life

As he Lie there Bleeding
From a Bullet in his Neck
He thought he had all the Cards
But there was a Joker in the Deck


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The Secret is that UFO's.....
Are disguised as Weather Balloons

Beets are Greatly Misunderstood
They Make sugar from them...
Because they're Sweet
All kinds of Treats

Candy, Cookies and Ice cream
Doughnuts, Cake and Pralines
Girl Scout Cookies and Frosty Shakes
You should Salute the Beet for all it Makes

I hope I opened your eyes to
All the things that Beets can do

Her funeral was this year
Its been a long time*
Since we were together

Still our Love never Faded
She told me recently.....
Leaving me was her worst Mistake

There was so much Sunshine
When we were together
No matter the Weather

And the ***,
We had it everywhere
Laughing as People stared

Yearning to Kiss her
Just because I miss her
*Lost Love of Mine

Warm beams of sun light
Fall across my kitchen floor...

The Blue Nile is a Local Club
It Hosts the Poets Groove,
A Late Night spoken Poet event
That is the culture of the Smooth.

Desdamona The queen of the Poetry Scene
Hosted a Cool MC there for Years
Poets, Hip Hoppers and Rappers
All Gathered here bringing there words

Hip hop, Rappers, and Poets Hang
For that Late Night Poets Reading
The House band lays down your Music
Background as you perform the Speaking

The band can do from Jazz to Rap
They latch on to the feel and beat
Your doing your Reading replete
With the musical blendings complete

On the Stage with your Words
For an audience that heard
It gives you an incredible feeling
the Applause makes it all worth Dealing

I've seen Street Rappers Lay it down
Hip Hoppers with Singer Backgrounds
Girls with Love Poems, Feeling Alone
For a Poet its the best show around


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Change is like a wind.....
It comes when least expected

In earlier times a Daughter was born
Who carried the welts of a belt
An oath of no children
By the Mother was sworn

Ten years went by
An she agreed to one
But you must never
Lay a hand on my son

The man felt afronted
By the Oath on his head
But agreed to the terms
His wife had said...

The son was born on
A hot august Morn
But the oath on his head
Was the Mans Scorn

As the Boy grew older
All of 8 years old he
Was told his mother ill
Her Failed sight ner seen

The Boy Had to help
The mother to cook
Taught by her
From recipe books

The Man owned a factory
Where each day he must be
After school his time
Was never free

He must clean
The factory floor
And haul the Rubish
Out the door

By 9 he was working
with 16 ft boards
To help make the slats
That paid for our Board

When ever the boy talked
Of what he had learned
He was ridiculed by the father
And vicously Spurned

He was called
Insane and stupid
Told he belonged in a
Mental institution

He was told
He was a slacker
That nothing he
Did was ever right

The Spite and the Hatred
built Day upon Day
His father argued
With all that he'd say

By 12 the Boy had
Longshoremans
Syndrome, from the
weight of the work

As his spine was growing
It bent the spine as it formed
The Raging went on day after day
The abuse heaped on the head of the Boy

When Finally he left
With his back to the door
For 2 years they never
Heard from the Son

Till he missed
Them and called
2 minutes it took till
The father started again

The son slammed
Down the phone in tears
And wasn't heard from
For another year

Through all of this from 5 years old
He'd been ***** by an older boy
And Held it all within Him
Afraid of his Father he never had told

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Five words Dad never said,
I'm really proud of you....

Like water washed in*
The Tides of the Moon
You bend and Flow Like
Willow branches in the Wind

Its how you Survive,
The Giving of Life and
All that comes with it
That nurturing Demands

Composed like Rose Buds
With a Heart of glass
Mended so many times
The Aches that have lasted

And then time Passes
And your Healed Soon
Like water washed in
The Tides of the Moon

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Political Planners...
Much like 4 lb. sledge hammers
That crush the skulls of*
Cows brought to Slaughter
Carve up the political landscape
As the HOWL!
Of the entity for the
Condition of Humanity
Bares angst within the Night
In search of the Light
In utter Darkness

They were only the Patsy's
Hung out to dry
For another's Fraud and Profit
Having evolved from
Kneeling to Prophets, into
Kneeling to Profits
Prophets foretold of old
But Now are Sold in Paperback

Lost are the Days...
And,Wandering is the Night

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Its a Land with 3 inches of Soil
Sprouts High Voltage Lines, Oil Derriks
And Microwave Towers everywhere
Like a Modern Steel Forest Landscape

The wind is ever present and Unending
Its a Cruel Wind, strips the Paint off of All
At Night the Howling and Humming of
All that steel wire sets your teeth on edge

The wind Strips the electrons from All
Leaving a Negative charge in the Air
Like some Electrical Spirit plagues the Land
Scrambling your thoughts and Actions

Its the Desolation Where Revial Meeting Tents
Flapped in 1930s wind there for Salvation of Souls
The Place where anger flares up from Minds wore down
A Brother gets shot over Drumstick in any given town

At the motel I pace in the Night hounded by the sound
As if I had to witness this Howling wind strip the Ground
Morning coffee I reach for a Styrofoam Cup with the Rolls
It Leaps 5 inches into my hand trying to get away from this Land

A Land of endless wind and sand run across West Texas Like
A Frieght train Whistling and Howling as it Rumbles By
Shaking the Ground with its Passing Through the Town
The Lands Only Salvation is its Blue unending Skies

That taste of Transcendency that
Takes away your sleep dregs

Its the wind
That blows from
The ***** of
Politicians at
Election time

Politicians talk about Entitlement
Yes we are entitled...
To be shot in the street
To fight the pain with ****** in the vein
And drive by's that maim
Entitled...
To crying children
Who can't sleep because they are hungry
To Cockroaches who scurry in the Night
Child Welfare who say we have no Right
To raise our own children
Entitled to be ***** and Beaten
By the Drunk at our Door
Who just came from the Liquor Store
And ****** on our Porch
Because we wouldn't Let him in.
Entitled on and on they rave
And the Money they could Save
Yes we're Entitled to an Early Grave
And an end to suffering

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A Lovely Lick of *****
Does Flow a Loving Glow

Clear, Cubic, Cut, Crystalline, Ice
Nice, on Hot Sunny Days.......

I often go to McDonalds, For a Large
Coffee with 2 shots of esspresso....
It's the Poor Man's Starbucks...
Sipping on that the words Start to Flow
And sentences Later I am not Word Stuck

Caffienated Consonants lead to Poems
A Jolt of Java lets those wild words Roam
Its like Cappuccino  with out the Foam
Bottom of the cup so its the end of the Poem

The Sight of Black Stockings on Pale white Legs
Framing and showing off the Thigh, That Begs
Softly to be touched, in gentle Admiration
Women in Silk, Lace, and  Satin for Excitation

Camisoles of Lace, Garters and Penoirs
Corsets Laced up, and Short Babydolls
Lace Demi Cup Bras, with ******* Adorned
Without the Pleasure of this, life is Forlorn

There is a Certain ****** Passion
For these Fine Lingerie Fashions
Lust and Loved for Centuries
It Brings forth ***** Sensuality

Curve and Crevices tease the Eyes
Releasing ever Passionete Sighs
Until Entwined they Finally Find
The unyeildings of Motions Devine*

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The soft sound of Wind Chimes,
And the Rustling of leaves...
The song of Water on Rock
Its tune plays on endlessly

Black Eyed Susan's amid,*
Queen Anne's Lace spread
Abroad like a Floral buffet.
For the Senses upon to Feed

The Smells of Morning Dew,
And Moist Deep Black Earth,
The Smell of Honey Suckle
and the Buzz of Bee's Search

Following the Nectar sweet Scent
Along the wafting Breeze
Shadows and Sun under the Trees
Embracing a day that's Heaven Sent

Memories Captured in a bottle to save
And Savored Upon another Day
Memories Used, but just Slightly Diffused...JMF


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Out in the West, a Tale is told
By Wise weathered Indians of old,
Passed down as a Shamans Tale
It told of Guardian Spirits...

For Our Mother Earth and Father Sky
On Sacred Lands only reverent pass by
Those with Selflessness Come through
To pray to Mother Earth and Father Sky

Give thanks for Brother Sun and Sister Moon
Some that the rite goes back to ancient eons
Brought by the Anasazi to all his Children
In praise for what they were given.....

A wanderer Came upon these Sacred lands
With ****** in his heart, and blood on his hands
Father Sky sent his Spirit Hawk as Guard on the Land
His cry in the Sky reached the ears of the Wolf Spirit

A pile of bleached Bones the angry man came upon
The Gaurdian Wolf Spirit Howled out a Warning
As the Man's Spirit broke the Sacred Circle
Bounding the Bear Spirit came to ****

His Claw reached in and took the Hatred from his Heart
But without it the Man lost his Spirit and Began to Die
His death quick but not alone, he landed on a pile of bones
With his Companions He lay, til the day he was just bone dry...JMF

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