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

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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The shaking hand leaves ink trails on the Paper,
Like blue veins showing through pale skin.
The whisper of his words lost between
The Cough and the Death Rattle as he begins.
Words whispered appear like ghosts upon the Page
No Laurels, No printing, No Publishing of this old Sage
Just a stack of Paper to Mark a lifetime of memories.
To show up at an estate sale pawed over by Curiousity
Shaking but determined he pens down the Paper
Another Document to be filed in a box for later
Like Dreams of Fantasy and tales of Enchantment...
Shaking Hands write, This is my last will, and testament...JMF

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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Bridled with Ire
Your words say your a Liar
Saying your my Friend
Means nothing in the End
The truth of the fact
Lies in the way you Act
The vipers in your life
Whisper Lies for you to hear
Their venom numbs your heart
So now you play their part
Afraid their words are truth
You draw away forsooth
Fear you will be shunned
By the Lying Cheating ones
You say you are my friend
But I don't feel it in the end.....1/24/15

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

Blazing within under my Skin is a field of Empathy
The Emotive Ports, Allow Energy arcs, Leaping around in me

The Booming Roll of Thunder, and Flash of Lightening
Is Like a Building Wave to Surf upon a Jolt of Energy...

In Brooding Darkness, the Spark creates, the Flash of Light
Colliding Potential Differences, Thunders in the Night

In Walking Dreams, a Cat Jumps out scratched, Runes on my left Arm
Scratched in my blood it read "Use this to ward off charm and all harm"

The Harpen Tone of Elfen Strings float in the Night to Me...
As the Twinkle of Faerie lights shine in the Home land Trees

At which I shook my Head Awake, knowing I'll be back... Come what may
For Nothing With in me could Keep me away

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

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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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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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

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

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

Fear is the silent Stalker
Hunting you within your mind

When did the only way out...become a ****
Knot in your Stomach, Behind a MAC 10 slug
It feels Cold and Heavy, no way to Pay your Dues
You were just a Tagger in the Street, Spray paint in Hues
How'd you end up carrying Cold Steel to protect some deal
North side Gang wanna dis on yer own Homies
Gonna cut you to the Ground over a Kilo of Blow
Cold sweat on your fingers, and fear in your heart
Feels Like you wanna cut and run, can't let it show
Northsider's down on Lake Street, is trouble they Know
Lead about to Fly like Minnesota Snow
2 guys in a car Spraying Cold Steel Death
Word on the Street 'bout the Drop of ****
Car rounds the Block caught in hot Lead Blow
Bullet thru a window Caught a 9 Year old
Hot News of the Day, Laid out Cold
Body in the Morgue, a Mothers tears flow
Fear in the Streets, where'd the Good times go

Sadness or Madness, Still the rule of the fool...JMF 12/5/14

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

There's a friend I know, I think his name is Joe
Though between us are thousands of Miles of Space
Together we Battle Dragons, Wielding Elfin Swords
Forged at the Beginning of time, in a Forgottten Place
Antique Relics they Be,  Still are a lot like Him and Me
Their Jewels shine, and Graven Marks are Dark and Deep
The legends ne'r we tell, of troll Heads we Split and Fell
Or Carried each in swoon, for Elfin healings of our Wounds
And sharing Elfin Wine, The Pleasure of these Folks we find
Till on the road we go, and so far apart You'ld Never Know...Shamus

As you talk of Pleasure of another Kind,
You let me know whats on your mind.
While Urgently From Behind
I feel the Press of your Firm Flesh
As you Start, I part
to grasp the Haft, of your Slick Shaft
While so slowly you fill me

And from this Tender Stillness,
you begin a Rythimic Dance
As labored Breathing Comes in Pants
'til in the End, I am lent
Your Pleasure Filled
Your Passion spent

The Little Skiff Slips through the water, following Swamp Trails.
Soft Light of a Bayou Moon in the Mist, on right the splash of Gator Tail
As it hunts in the Moonlight,  Twinkle of Neon Blares through the reeds,
From a Swamp bar Southeast of Lake Charles, Fiddle and Wash board,
Scrap , over Sweet Chords of Accordian Tunes drifting in the mist, As a
Patron of the Bar stirs coals on the bonfire, Drunken Guests Cut a Rug
On rolled out linoleum, Et Toi a Night of Bon temp Roulle on the Bayou
Inside the door, for some Cat fish and Red Beans & Rice with a cold brew
The Old Juke Box Plays Aaron Nevilles "If Tear Drops were Diamonds"
As the Band takes a Break, fiddle laying at Bars end Winks in Orange
To the flash of the Beer Sign, Uncle Solacess Raises his glass to the Moon
A high toast to La lune ete Amour de Coure, A Drunken Fight breaks out
Old Family issues, the contenders hugging and laughing over fresh Beers
As I Stumble out the door, just as the Zydeco strikes up I crank up the skiff
As I float into the fog, Bon Temp Roulle under Bayou Pale Moonlight
C'est bien de te voir, A bientot Au Revoir Bonne Nuit et Beau Reves....
.......................................................­..........JMF 10/114

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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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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The verse may be gentle and Kind
But you find its Terse, when you read between the lines
The moonlight so Full Falls on an Embrace
But some have the Idea that its a Race
The Kiss so tender lips soft Lingering...
But they stab you in the back if the think they can win
Words so sweet, and its known in the End its Only a Poem
Its only a Poem.....JMF 2/26/2015

Down in the Hills of the
Mississippi River Valley
Between the Bluffs and
The river bank in Lansing
Is a Friend named Joe Price,

Born to Play the Blue's
Raised on Farming as a Boy,
Yet was a need he could not lose
He listened to Muddy Waters
And ran out to buy a Guitar

An old 1947 12 String National
Resonator with the Steel Core
He rapped his fingers around
Till his blues skills got honed

He was Destined to play with
Legends like John Lee ******
Willie Dixon and Clifton Chenier
Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee
Along with Muddy Waters and Me

I know I'm no legend but I can't Refuse
When Joe ask me to Sit in on a Knee Slappin'
Hand Clappin version of the Hobo Blues
His work boot stomped a beat
On an old flat piece of wood
As that steel Slide made that Guitar Cry

A Legend behind the Scenes he's
Played from the North down to
The Louisiana Back Bayous
And everything in Between

You'll Never Know that feeling
As the Hair stands on your Neck
This hardly known old Hobo
Was a Legend what the Heck

Till you get a chance to listen
To his Train whistle slide Moan
That 12 string Steel Guitar Tone
That sounds so very Nice
From an Unknown Legend
Name of Joe Price

*His Music can be found on http://www.joepriceblue.com/

The Ham is Roasting, and Revelers are Toasting,
To New Years and Old, as the soft Music is Playing,
Party goers Adorned with Finery and Pressed Suits
Glide over the Dance floor to Violins, Cello's and Flutes
Soft Waltzes to Dance,  Leads to Romance
Perfume Scent doing what its Meant...
Champagne toasts, Amid Soft Holiday lights
All Lead to Holiday Delights in the Night
Soft Lips so Red it Alarms, create Alluring Charms
The Mistle Toe Hung can't Be missed, When it leads to a Kiss
Soft Shoulders so Magic, as you glide across the Floor
A tender Kiss on her Neck, she's Breathless and Wanting more.
You feel so light on this Magical night, as you Grab her Wrap,
And hold the door, Snuggled up warm on the ride Home
And a soft and Tender Kiss at the Door...and, ends this Poem...
.........................................................­............................JMF 12/24/14

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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If I were a Unicorn nibbling on Roses
I would stomp my Hoof and Snort
That men Exist, I should Suppose
I would shake my Silver Mane
And rake my horn upon a tree
That men could exist, Non-Mythically
Such Tales are whispered by the colts
Unicorns know the very Idea Revolts,
That Unmagical Creatures may be
Walking Upright under the trees
With a Quick Swish of my Tail,
I would Deny the very Myth,
That men should be, indeed
For having no Magic you see
They Lack  the Will to believe
But, never will this Myth Disperse...
Should Men exist 'twould be the worst

I like to Write about Life,
Living, its not like everybody
Doesn't Do It Daily...
Its a Common ground,
Scattered with what we found.
That touches our Souls Deep
And burden's us, secrets to keep
Some Buried so Deep it's Forgotten

Up and Down, it's Sky and Ground.
Sorrow And Joy, Smiles and Frowns
We all go  through the Crush...
All feeling Flush, Blood pumping Rush
And the Let down of the Rejection.
Good days with Erections....
Others with Misdirection

Burdened with heavy Eyes, til'
We pop up and rise, hope in our eyes
Just to do it all again, like a Soap Opera Plot
With Disappointment never a Thought.
Thats why I write about Life........... JMF 10/11/14

illusions are both
perceptions and
deceptions.........
we allow ourselves
to believe them
to escape problems
we wend our way
thru a care free day
and consume the
.........perfect love
and all that we are
capable  of, emerged
in Fantsy, we create
reality, to insure our
denyability and preserve
our culpability,  in the
hopes that the perception
or deception, avails the....
ILLUSIONS.....       JMF 1/7/115

Illusions are both perceptions and deceptions.........
We allow ourselves to believe them
..........to escape problems
We wend our way thru a care free day
And consume the .........perfect love
And all that we are capable  of,
Emerged in Fantsy, we create reality,
To insure our denyability and
Preserve our culpability,
In the hopes that the perception
Or deception, avails the....ILLUSIONS.....       JMF 1/7/115

A vast Land, dotted with thoughts and Ideas,
Scripted in Hand, Penned with Altruist Zeal.
Paragraphs Written in Hills, and in Valleys,
Taking a Path through Drama and Passion.
Leading you through Dark City Alleys...
To Scenes of Crime and Dark Actions,
Cowered in Fear, Shadows Causing Reactions.
You feel your Skin Crawl at the Draw of a Knife,
Shocked at the Sight of a Passing Life.
You Cling to the Arms of the One you Love,
The Feelings between You from Heaven above.
The Pleasure you feel at the Touch of your Lips,
As the Wind ***** the Sails of a Yar and sleek Ship.
True love Flares up at the setting sun,
And Finally the Poems End has Come.....JMF 1/12/15

Wellbutrin* keeps my mind.
from going Splat,
like a fly Smashed by
a swatter, It shuts off
the Slow drip of
Anxiety, that Twists
my Stomach in knots
as doubts Trip through
my mind Like it's
a Playground...
it keeps My days
from Feeling
nonstop Sleepy
I'm glad it Keeps me
from Insanity...JMF 2/21/15

On the massive Shoulders of Microsoft
are...
Children's games
Search for names
Weather reports
Scores for Sports
Travel news
Rythmn & Blues
Hotel prices
Adult Devices
Chinese Quisine
Night Scene
Machine *****'s
High Heeled Shoes
Butter Knife
Future Wife
Candy Crush
Makeup Blush
Family Tree
Spending Spree
Natural Pearls
Web Cam Girls
Rental Hall
Disco *****
Dance Clubs
Irish Pubs
Paternity Tests
Financial Invests
Mortgage Brokers
On Line Poker
and, so much  more.....JMF 2/21/15

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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Banal, **** Retentive, Introspective Denial
Induces a Passive Aggressive Behavioral

. 

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.......JMF  9/28/14

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

All my life wishing, that
I was struck by lightening

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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