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Five minute friends Leave Fleetingly

Imagination is the fertile Land.....
Where wishes and desires take Command
A place where Children might find Trolls
Or Doctoral Mathematicians find Black Holes

Some Dark Imagining's can Lead to Crime
While Con's that Can't Do the Time
Or brave Officers Protect us all
When Dangers Near they heed the call

Artists and Poets Live in this Realm
Sailing Creativity with a Steady Helm
As they Sail the waters of Contemplation
They are Carried to the act of Creation

Couples longing Sensual Treasure
Arrive Aroused for Total Pleasure
Fine Lingerie so Satin Soft
With Loving touch raise them Aloft

But Childhood is a Magic Land
Where Tiaraed Princesses Rule Grand
And Boys who try can Fly the Sky
Or Closet Monsters are Battled and Die

Be very Greatful when you enter this Nation
For our Sweetest Gift is Imagination
So treat it with Gentle Pride.....
And Travel it till the day you Die.....JMF 1/28/15

17 blossoms and
each bud unfolds
the blossoming of
untold tales

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

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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I maybe 61 but all
I need is that Blonde
from the ****** Ad to
cure me of E. D.  JMF 3/5/2015

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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Angst is when your Happiness
Is run through a grinder

Tendrils of Alien Anime Lunge
Wide Eyed Innocent gets plunged


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®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack

If I t'wer find a Woman of Mind, With the Heart an Erin colleen..........
A smile would I,  a twinkle in my eye, and the feel of my Heart A'brim
A Dance I'd do, to a Penny Whistles Tune, all for pure Enjoyment
This Woman of few, I surely Knew, would Be an Angle Sent

Strolling down the dusty road
I reached the path of an abode.
The Black Shamrock an Irish pub
I stopped inside for a pint mug.
One mug topped off with ale
That next to Guiness Stout
Looked pale, A Pilsner in the glass.
And down the bar a drunken fool
Sat staring with blurred eyes and drool.
A sassy colleen tended the bar.
And if your hands were free,
They wouldn't get far, for
If they reach to the wrong place.
You'ld a  bar wenches Slap.
Across your face, and a spot of red
For all to see, that you got the Hand.
Of Molly McGee, a fiddler Bowed.
An Irish Jig, and a penny whistle.
Carried the tune to the drunken crowd
Within the room, a game of darts is made
While cribbage by old farts is played.
And the pints are emptied by the hour.
As the clock rings out in the churches tower
As drunks are Roused, and doors are closed
Old friends will stumble down the road.
All in an Irish night

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

Life would be so better
If it wasn't imbued with Antipathy
Some moments I awake
Not even knowing why
Full of Self Doubting Apathy
It may as well be Antipathy

Days move past me
Like products on an assembly line
Each one in its time
Here and gone in the blink of an eye
Not even knowing why

Its easy to see
Life flows around me,
But not through me.
As though I am cast in paler light
And seem to all removed from sight
Not even knowing why

Graven upon the Stone
It will say with antipathy
Here I lie, not even knowing why

Ethereal Theories and Rituals
By Rosicrucian's and Masons
And The Knights Templar
Secrets whispered in listening Ears
Bound to Silence by unknown Fears
Symbolic  Accoutrements Adorn
Compass, Cross, Aprons and Horn
Secret Rituals done in Dark Shadows
Robed Members with Incense and Candles
Perform ancient Tomes with Canticles
Reciting Century old Chants of Words
Enarmed with Pike Shield and Sword
Perpetuated through the Centuries
All Carried out in total Secrecy.....1/19/15

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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When we Met, I thought I would never forget you....
But now... Your face is just a shadow in Time.
The 'lectric touch of our Lips, a feeling so Sublime
But now... Your face is just a shadow in Time.

Meeting on that day, And me without a dime
You didn't seem to care, just being was so fine
I was lost in the look of your Brown Eyed shine
But now... Your face is just a shadow in Time.

Your Irish Soul, and Blazing Portuguese Eyes
Gave looks that were Sunshine, or Stormy Skies
When lightening Flashed from your Eyes
Deep Down in my Soul, I thought I was gonna Die
But now... Your face is just a shadow in Time.

Nights in bed lost in Lust, when we met a 24 Hour bout
Hands and tongues, ******* and Thighs, Long Low Moan & Sighs
R&B;, Stride Piano and the Blues, our passion always was Wild
When we lost it, and that Guy watched And played blues so fine
Unbelieving & Mesmerized, Bending the notes to our moans & Sighs
Will he ever forget that night we Met, jamming with us in 4/4 time
But now... Your face is just a shadow in Time.......JMF 12?4?14

A Tongue to kiss a Special Person.
A Tongue to Hiss a bad performance.
A Tongue to lie, to those you love
A Tongue to Shout to the sky above.

A Tongue to twist Promised words
A Tongue to console those who deserve.
A Tongue to quote a campaign speech
A Tongue for Temper tantrums screech.

A Tongue to lick a juicy peach
A Tongue to taste a vintage wine.
A Tongue to Laude a Life so Full
A Tongue to lick a fudgecycle

A Tongue to please something bare
A Tongue to lick a nice spot there .
A Tongue to pray to heaven above.
A Tongue to softly Speak of Love.....JMF 10/24/2014

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


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

Hot August winds
Blows across dried yellow grass.
The shimmer of heat.
Rippling off the blacktop.
At a roadside Motel.On the
South Dakota Landscape.

I see the arrival of
An Amish family all,
Dressed in Black.
Arrive dragging their
Simple bags into the room
As the door closes.

I head inside to escape the heat
The smell of sulfur.
Rises from the water faucet.
Mixed with the smell of
Bacon and Eggs frying
In an electric skillet.

I head out under the overhang.
To escape the heat and my parents.
Down the way, a boy in Black Hat
Black shirt open,
White Tee showing.

He walks over to meet me.
I show him toys I brought,
Bored in the blasting heat.
We hop across the hot blacktop.
Barefoot trying not to get burned.

Off to the park, We find
The hollowed out carcass.
Of an F-16 Fighter Jet,
We bonded as pilot and copilot
Jetting across the Badlands.

We strafed and bombed.
Enemy installations.
Cutting off troop Supplies.
We blasted the afterburners.
Breaking the sound barrier.
On a hot August afternoon.

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

Spewed out, the Pain,  the Shock, the Awe
To hear things never Heard and see things never Saw
The overwhelming light, that falls within my sight
Colors Never seen, and the mystery of the Word
Its only been moments, but I feel so Free and light
As flesh has Fallen away to create this birth...

To think only 72 hours ago, cold and still, I were
In the Coroners Office on a Slab in the morgue
Embowled for the autopsy on a Routine report
The Car Ran the Stop Sign, doing near Ninety
the Glare of the Lights, The Last thing I could See
But its all over, the weight is gone and now I'm free.....JMF 12/11/2014

Errant Lackey's
Erroniously Labor,
Over Big Boss Butts!
Searching for the
Special Spot to Kiss
As if Lips were
Made for that.....
........JMF 9/29/14

Some how I can't see the words,
I can't hear the rhythm.
The meters got no beat to feel,*
And the Rhyme I cannot deal
Constantly the consonants
Corrupt the Poems appeal
Like feral Syllables Ascant of any
Meaning it just can't be real
In pica print Parklane Font
The printing does leave for Want.....JMF 3/9/2015

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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The seedling of a Poem,
Springs deep from within
Pushing as it finds its roots
Its birth, born of Hope begins
Words Sprout to bring it forth
And Rhyme feeds the bud to bloom
And with elation, soon petals form
And in celebration, a new Poem is born
And brings the sweet scent, of its full bloom.....JMF 2/22/15

TheBack 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

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


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack

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

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..........

All the Work here is licensed under the Name
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Chasing words that get away,
To chase again another day.

Everytime I hear No, its always .......MY FAULT
As the Brain drags me down this train of illogic
Anxiety Loops in unending Circles Spun to the Tragic
What can go wrong, then to feel like.......
Life has ***** me, And why is it always my Fault

The FIST FLEW out of Nowhere, Sucker punched*
Slow motion falling as a..........
Childs head bounces off the ground
Awaking to throbbing Pain,
My Pants around my Knees,
And why is it always my Fault..

For those who know what I mean
Others can't know what we've seen
Even if Its both Bad and Yucky
*Childhood is for the lucky..........JMF  9/28/14

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



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When you're happy,its hard to write Poetry
Other then, Hallmark Greeting Card Sappy
Thoughts drift Slowly through your mind
But after it all, There is nothing to Find
Coffee! that's what's missing, what you need
But you only get nothing done, at a faster Speed
Nothing to write comes to mind, nothing to say
Oh well, so much for that, maybe again another Day*


All the Work here is licensed under the Name
®SilverSilkenTongue and the © Property of J.Flack

That taste of Transcendency that
Takes away your sleep dregs

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

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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There's nothing like the Feel
Of two wheels and the power
Between your Legs, The Pounding*
Of two  Cylinders, as the engine Revs.
Wheeling through snaking roads
Surrounded by Sunlight and trees
The intense smell of fallen leaves
On a cool nights ride. Feeling free
Blasting down a two lane road.
Rolling into a small town,you
Hear the Bikes Rumble, as you
Shift down, and throttle off the gas
The roar of your bikes sound, as
It bounces off the passing buildings.
You're out of town past the Last street light
As the Stars unfold in the stark black night
The feel of the wind's a sweet taste of freedom
Content for the silence and the Bike motors hum.
As an old Biker the ride is Past, but the feel of
The wind Flowing past my face, and the pound
*Of the Motors sound, still be mine, Till my Day is Done

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

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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Mud bug Stew, Black beans and rice
Collard greens and fat back boiled up Nice
Nothing like a Bowl of Fila Gumbo
Boozoo Chavez play the Crawfish mombo
Blind drunk Betting, and Letting Dollars go
And he blew it all on horses and **'s
Boozoo got a taste of Cold Cash And Cadillacs
Clifton Chenier in Lake Charles too
Snook right past ole drunk Boozoo
His accordian tunes Ripped right By
Boozoo Chavez who did not Know
How Clifton Chenier became
The KING of ZYDECO

She was only a kid, her
Sleeves always Rolled down
Its seems like a long time
Since her Dads been around

Moms drunk at her boyfriends,
showing up half the week
When she's home. she's always
screaming, her drunk Breath Reeks

She's afraid on the Pavement,
while she jogs down the street
With thugs selling crack on every
Corner, afraid who she'd meet

With all this Pain and Desolation
seem, to be on every side,
And her Life outta Control
Makes her wonder if she died

So she gets out the Razor Blade
and Rolls up a sleeve
And see's the map of her past
when the Hurt wouldn't Leave

The Blade Pierces the skin, And
the Red Snake proves she can bleed
Feeling the Pain is the only way
she knows she's Alive...

The Salvation she finds comes
from a Sharp Steel Knive
In this deep black whole,
its her only way to control

What a shame that its all
for this poor young Soul