Mary owns a bakery
So plump and dough boy round
She likes to check out movies
For there's no one else around
She drives an old Toyota
That's seen it's better days
The horn has been broken
The radio never plays
Mary has many pets
Two dogs and lots of alley cats
And one used up circus clown
Pees off the porch out back
She likes to take her pets for rides
Sometimes they go downtown
To the city parks where her dogs
Dump upon the ground
Joe was Mary's older brother
He died in Me Lei , Vietnam
She has a younger brother
But it's been some time
Since he has been around
Once Mary got an offer
To run the library on the green
She procasternated until it was to late ,
the job was filled by Mr Clean
Mary had a boyfriend
But that was long ago
Now she eats buttered popcorn
While the movies roll on and on
With a cat purring on her lap
Two dogs sleeping by her feet
It's Sunday morning rising
And the clown gives me the creeps

She said ,"If you don't love me any more I'd understand ."

WHAT ?

WHAT !

I wouldn't understand  if I didn't love you !
Love you forever !

Humph ! Here I wake up thinking about your ******* , while they may be small I'm sure they are large in enthusiasm . And I would like to kiss them to find out .

Ummmmmmmm ! . . . yes they do taste good . And they vibrate with life , teasing my lips with a tingling sensation that causes me to lick my lips , wanting more .

And now you say I don't love you ?
Nor would it surprise you if I didn't ?

You must be the ballerina who tiptoes through life to the applause and adulation of a cheering mass only to doubt it's sincerity .

Oh me ! My manners have flown the nest !
Good morning ! How are you !

There's gold dust in the palms of your life
It glitters as the winds wish it away
You cannot measure the merit of a man
In bone , blood , and flesh
But by his mark made on the stones
Through the eyes of eternity

I was told a brain on poem was a terrible thing to waste . To which I retorted ,"Which one is wasted?"

Lost soles .
       . . . never free . . .
Follow me . . . see . . . have no fear .
           But you have handed me  . . .
one left shoe and a-not- her .

Come old lady who lives in the shoe . . .
Where are your children ? ? ?
. . . a little unsteady ?

Lost soles to memory , like Kentucky lightning on a warm Alabama night .
All hail the underdog .
All hail  . . .

The first left one fits nicely
But the right foot has disagreement . . .
feeling he has been left out .

No one understands her
                                           she is young

She is cloud and free
                                    greets all with a smile
saying ,"Kisses my friend"

She lays naked in thought
                                             with hands so cold
that cut like knives

Fangs in vein
                       as she ***** the breath
out of your world
                               with oleander kisses

Hey ,
he's the old man
with a pair of mental scissors
Snipping away at the
picture perfect reality
he perceives as the truth
Hey ,
she's the old lady
hard of hearing
who clings to the unreality
that all is as it should be
Hey ,
they are the reasons given
for all the good intentions
that do more harm than good
Hey , hey ,
. . . . hey ,
It is you reading these words
in all your disguises
that are trimming the truth
to make it fit
inside the lies
Hey ,
It is me lastly ,
snip , snip , snip . . .
snip .

Befuddled
      (as if)
I was walking on the rain

The rain
     (so cold)
Was it fog or the
     (formation)
of another
     (lost)
and listless soul

Even snow
     (falling)
would be warmer than this

I speak of the
     (blackness)
far beyond the absence
of the light

Truly staggering the
    (immensity)
of the nothingness
that swallows whole
everything in sight

Jesus walk upon the water
I just walked upon the rain

Yet he stood upon the
    (firmament)
I just stood upon it's
     (soaking)
pain

The boards creak and moan
from time and poor carpentry
The nails gripped by aged wood
have become crust collected and
shrunken to form

The bare walls once displayed
the smiling faces
of past eons but now
there are only the faded remnants
of square foundations
of lives that once
hung on the wall

The stairs complain
like an old man
from unsubstantiated fears
The second floor
seems solid only responding
to the remarks of my shoes

The old bedroom
once the center of attraction
overlooks the buckled sidewalks
and **** infested yards
of a street that now has no cars
or people passing by

I stand in silence for the moment
and the moment stands silent for me
And for that moment
I lay in time's eternal graveyard
in hopes of reviving dead dreams

What makes a poet ?
That was my thought
I mulled it over and
Came up with these oughts :

Late nights with
coffee , tea or beer
Perhaps harder stuff
Whiskey , smoke or gin clear

And the struggles and pain
as the birth is exclaimed
Blood , sweat and tears
Falling as hard as ice on rain

Confessionals made
As black on white page
Love , death , fears
Even extreme rage

One who struggles
with the a's and the's
Should one even use
The apostrophe

One who's words
Gel by the witching hour
Words full of promise  
Warnings so dour

But perhaps greatest of all
Before even the start
One must have
a true poet's heart

The little girl
wearing a Navy blue dress
with a white collar
and black patton shoes
holds a red
helium balloon
as she walks down a path of clouds
through the vast wilderness
of space and time
representing life on overtime
a second home on a lake
a souring career
living with a man she is married to
but doesn't love anymore
and may never have
sings the song
"Twinkle Twinkle , Little Star"
and she is wondering
just how far

50 - 50
half and half
almost there
but never close
Frustration tastes
sweet
in bitter milk
Exasperation boils over
She skins that pelt

As reckless bound beauty
belies the exhaultation
of standing on the edge
of eternity
God ! There is freedom
in the temptation of the fates
One must kiss the lips of death
to live

Amethyst ,
Greek for not intoxicated
A gemstone of violet colored quartz
once believed provided protection
against becoming intoxicated

Black Butterfly , a book about transformation and rebirth after death
But I don't know where the stripper
drama comes in
The rest is life ,
compartmentalized
into daily drudge

Oh , but for the last dregs
of glory
at the bottom
of the bottle of life

The electric breath that once
activated every nerve cell
of your being
into ecstacy
has become a distant emoticon
that was once closer
than shadow thin
But now has become the one
living in a graveyard
with hopes
of raising dead dreams

Freeborn ?
Nay ! Born in *******
to the wiles of life
in ways we need to understand .

Only rebel
against the iniquities we bear
as scars across our mental backs .

Freedom is at best
a dream that's dreamed
in the solitude
of howling winds
"as the times they are a'changing"
but never really does

Window screens filter the outside from the within . And they allow what's inside to escape . Daydreams are filtered in our thoughts . Allowing passage between two worlds , physical and not . But window screen daydreams can be trapped by an invisible barrier , a pane of mental glass on the inside or out .

Awesome feeling ,
witnessing God's power ,
your own fear ,
knowing no one can save you .
You're really all alone ,
but one must
keep tracking on .

Nomad ,
a wanderer ,
never remaining static .

One at home
with their environment .

At peace with their creator .
Probably made
from shooting stars .

*** is a four lettered word
flaunted by very bad vowels
fevered to ecstacy
by all tangled-up adjectives
Then pounded into submission
by perverted nouns
that take their free liberty
of the subjective
Once surrounded
by the iniquity of the parentheses
you will only utter commas
at the Benediction

I will never wish to be dead
because , for the record ,
none of my previous wishes
ever came true

The wicked whip of word
lashes whelps
upon the starved psyche
of the errogenous mind

Indeed !
The moment rises
in smoke and flaming
"I-don't-knows" of sheets
of layered heat
pressing down
into the flesh of desired
impunity . . . iniquities . . . liquidity

Happy is the framed statement
of thine , birthed
behind plastic cups of wine
in sheds of grey wooden sides
from long long ago

Was it board through (Bordeaux)
or just shabby (Chablis)

But the experience
while daunting
leaves you panting
for more

Enslaved ?
But the tangled breath
of green thoughts
encrusted by bark
touch drives your
veined forage wild

As you sink roots
deep into the flesh of
insatiable desire
you strip down to
truth and grain

The flowers of the Sunflower
turn to greet the sun everyday
As the sun travels across the sky
the flowers follow
And as the sun goes down
they droop over in mourning

I felt the sudden change in the air
As icy breath clung I was made aware
Outside my window the shadows fell
But it was too early for night to tell
Still it was cold and dark I know
Then came that knock upon the door
"Thomas , whom I come looking for
Won't you open up for evermore ?"

I shook with fear , for all the years
Suddenly I was filled with tears
I had always made my covered bed
And in absolution I held my head
Still you have no earthy clue
When comes that knock upon the wood
"Thomas , oh Thomas ,  if you would
Unbolt the lock now if you could."

I stood in silence , made not a sound
But by the shadow upon the ground
I knew he waited so patiently
Waiting ! Waiting , there for me
"Come Thomas , the seconds few
You cannot avoid what's in store for you
Do not bother looking for the key
For I have kept it safely here with me ."

I said I was not afraid of Death
That I would not bend in my final breath
Then I remembered my father's passing
How the stillness became so everlasting
And I knew I was no more special
That life is certainly full and spacial
So I opened up the door
"I am Thomas , the Thomas of whom you do implore ."

When you sing
                                                                ­                           I cry

When as stars you shine
                                                                                    I wonder
                                                                ­                   and sigh
                                                            ­          
You live in the hollow
                         of my moon

               eating my shrooms

You glitter bright
                                   
               to my arms delight

Your comet eyes

Milky way smile

Star cluster hair

Nebulous wiles
                                                  
and cares

Have caught me intentionally
                                                   ­   unaware

(he)  
You know I would if I could
(she)
You know you couldn't and wouldn't
(he)
But I wish and dream about it
(she)
I know I can't live without it
(he)
Then we should do something about it
(She)
There is nothing that you can do for me now
(he)
You know I would if I could
(she)
I know if you could you would
(he)
Agreed ?
(she)
Agreed !

The stars burned in his heart of love
She was up and far above
Forbidden the fruit she was thereof

1971 , where was I ?
On the Student Union steps
with my Lala turning 21

Manjun consumed in full moon tide
Never the thought left his side
Layla's love unrelenting
So he had to die

November began my long list of winters
I found love as icecicles cold and sharp
A heart of stars where no warmth was found
I spilled my seed on frozen ground .

Manjun of a thousand years
Dry now are all his tears
Layla just a memory
Layla now part of eternity

I never saw my Layla again
Moved to the mountains Carolina free
I languished on the fall line of my land
Just like Manjun , waiting to die

once upon :
Those eyes so teary
Once they loved one
so sincerely
But fairy tales
they will fracture
And love lost
is in it's nature
Broken hearts
leave crumbling memories
Nothing then
can be please me's
Blood turns cold
in the wind
Here's to broken hearts
that never mend

Your prayer wheel spinning
is an axis of hope
Radiating energy to every
corner of the Universe
Nothing can hide
from the Mani wheel
My metal cannot bend
Nor oil be my blood
to the spiritual pump
living within
The bond  by distance
cannot be severed
by timeless E-longings
with the whirl of constant emptiness
filling/feeding a mechanical pump
that has pace maker rthyms
of endowment
Let your axis of hope
your mani
breathe in life ,
the spiritual Ghost

You always rebelled
at the thought of obligation

Obliviously you would rather opt out
than be displayed
as a duty done in insignificance

A sailboat may be insignificant
. . . a tiny speck upon the ocean
But it sits high above the crests

My mother never said ,
"I love you" to me
That's OK .
I think it's better than being told ,
"I don't love you anymore."

There are no transmissions any more
Just long rocking emotions
sitting on the front porch of life
The skin of our teeth leaves
a vacuous  hunger
for the virginity of thought
But the magic inferred
leaves nothing but a sunset's ray
of goodbye upon the plains
of yesterday's regrets

Is this another pigment of my imagination ? All except the tie dyed t-shirts which
reside in the halls of my resignation . If God wanted to talk to me he would have said ,"Thomas !" And I would have replied , "What !"
To which God , after a considerable pause , would have said ,"Nevermind."

I used to go to the Bryce Hospital cemetery
at night and sit on a tombstone overlooking the Black Warrior River .
I used to talk to the dead but I gave it up after none of them answered back .
Still I was at ease there in the dark amongst their remains . I had no fears , no worries , no thought of tomorrow . Just a gentle touch of acceptance . I guess you could call it peace .

Dark knights
on white satin
With pumice for breath
Exact the toll that tells

I cut my heart out
Placed it on display
I get much sympathy that I
throw down my endless well

It's bitter , the wine
It's better than time
I will out to find
a curse that binds

"I" falls off the tongue's challenge
Captured and caged
I send notice to the page
Now that the cat's captured the rage

So it comes down to the season of reason
I am reluctant to part ways
Pray thee write a poem on my behalf
That I will exist beyond these days .

Forty dollars of *****
151 ***
You will find me in the alley
a drunken ***
Lights flashing in my brain
Spinning gripping my soul
Ecstacy in alcoholic rage
Writing off the page
I raise the flag
To Ira Hayes
A fallen hero
And his last days

Write to me lovely poetry
She sent black bound volumes
Critiquing the umbrella of my ways

I will not encase you
Instead she hastes the reckoning
The arrival of the dead of days

Talk of unification
She remains pure of thought
In form , body , an image of purest rays

Comfort now my body
So she raises her hands
and begins to pray

Poetry is life in motion , a Niagara Falls of words , a super nova of emotions , cradled on the infinitesimal lines of creation .

Low clouds come bustling in
Grumbling about being here again

Driven by the Crack of lightning's whip
Winds whip tugging at your grip

Apprehension comes dragging tension
The Crash-Boom for added demension

Raindrops commit suicide on the glass
Bulging in the panes break at last

Stirred in to added confusion
Missing roof is no allusion

Swirling winds puncture your skin
As the walls become vacant beens

Swept away from your stance
Poor you , you never had a chance

One wears the wages of sin
As war's protecting bibs
Where arrowheads of flight
Cannot pierce the pump within

Taste the salt upon the sea
The sea where sins are drowned
Upon the hearts that sit on sleeves
The head of smiles we crown

Back across the cross we bear
Hear the pounding of the condemned
Perhaps we will never be more
Than the crown of thorns we wear

So the cherry tree has fallen
It's bark black with disease
Lime should cure the problem
I will be planting trees

There is a difference between
God working through you
And you working God
Upon someone else

She said there are no men
There are no women
Only people
The rose lips were petals that
Moved in the sun bleached wind

No I said
There must be a separation

Yes , your separation I can see now
Is complete

So I see the after Christmas trees
Lying in the alleys
In January

She said there are no men
There are no women
Only trees pretending
To be people
Shedding ***** needles
In the alleys
Lying face down
Cold and covered in frost

Their separation
Now complete
No longer men
No longer women
They've become
Forgotten people

There are no distractions
        at 3:10 A M

There's not even a breeze
       no stirring of wind

I sit alone in silence
        listening to nothing

No , no I'm not in any
        kind of suffering

Just letting my consciousness
        expand beyond the borders

Beyond the mountains
        and the sea's waters

Not even the space
        surrounding the stars

There are no limits
        as to just how far

My universe
        is my man made cosmos

A thought turning to whim
        Seen through like ghost  

I sit alone in silence
        but I'm not really lonely

I have all of my friends :
        mayonnaise , mustard and lots of baloney

Tonight I fly across the stage(s) of life
Only to be a heat seeking sidewinder
To the furnace of your passion

There is that slow burn deep within
The heat that warps and so bends
The power that drives me mad
Upon which my love does hinge

I see you in my dreams
When I think it's not anything
Only to wake soaked in sweat
This is more than just a fling

I think about you through the day
This month of April , surely this May
I long to lay by your side
Kiss your lips and touch your face

Someday I will burn complete
From the ashes of your heat
I will rise and take your hand
And across this devide we will leap

The sun's shone and gone
Nighthawks have flown

Fireflies switch off and on
As night sings it's song

I'm gonna run free tonight
Running free with twilight

I'm running free tonight
Gonna get my delight

Moths all around the street lamp
Frogs screaming out of sight

Black cat dashes by
Oh ! My oh my !

I gonna run free tonight
Without the moonlight

Running , Running , Running
So free tonight

I'll be the last man standing by you
All the others lying dead afield

I am the only survivor to you
I'm the only reason you remain real

I'll be the last man to love you
I'll be the last man you kiss

There will be no one between us
There's no one you will miss

Help me ! Help me !
You know me better than I know myself

Take me ! Take me !
To that all special place

I'll be your last man naked
I'll be your unmasking

I will leave your body shaking
Make you beg for more

I will be your comet rising
Come and ******* pleasure

I'll be your last man standing
Watch me more than measure

They walk by brisk
Covered in umbrellas
On high heels with ankles
Of no appeal

They grab the shaft
With both hands
As the wind tries to steal
Their umbrage

With agility
They skip over puddles
As I marvel
At the procession

With destined determination
They ****** on
As spiked high heels
Grapple on cobblestone

Rainy day women
In gray coats and wet umbrellas
Under overcast skies
With no hellos or goodbyes

Once so true
Once so pure
Accosted in the temple
***** and pummeled
Then blamed for sure

Cursed , shamed , then disdained
Banished , exiled away
To spend all her days
alone without a say
Medusa the castaway

If you didn't speak Spanish
I think I would call you up
They all say your crazy
hmm . . . just maybe crazy enough
Her life is a disaster
just waiting like
a grenade to go on off
Maybe we could play spin the bottle
inhale . . . cough cough cough
Or go for long walks downtown
She can bring her Glock
Or ride up to the reservoir
have a pinic and feed the ants
Or go see a movie , hold hands
while we get stuck to the floor
Or maybe yet
Go to the county fair
Oh yeah !
They closed it down last year
Well (my favorite word)
I just might text a word to you
Let's get together on the line
DING ! wow ,
I have a message now from you