I switched browsers from Chrome to Duckduckgo and I have no more problems with my screen hopping around or trouble posting poems .

Sitting for hours in the dark
even all night long

Two days didn't eat
I'll have that black coffee now

Days turned to weeks
Forty pounds gone , still no sleep

My mind's stuck , like an LP skip
Saying over and over . . . over and over

Inside the black is dimimg fast
Shivering my skin is as cold as ice

More coffee , my how fine instant tastes
Spins the wheels on mental race

The sun sets once more upon the stage
I bow acknowledging the audience

Thunderous applause inside my head

I think it's time
Surely its come
To open the door
and begin to run

I thought I wanted to write a poem
mistakingly I guess I'm not .
Thought I could create something
masterful
I guess that idea is shot
Like false labor pains
I  thought it was going to come
But the pains just faded away
Now I know it's naught
My muse used to dance and sing
After midnight by the clock
Lately it's been going to bed
around eight thirty or nine o'clock
So I'm left out by myself
trying to do my best
But my best is pathetic
it simply can't pass the test
So now I say goodnight my friends
As I leave you with this mess

I threw my poem to the wolves
They then tore apart
every word
They swallowed down all the thread
then they languished
for soon they fled

For this was nothin̈g new
Just another sitting
on a Sunday church pew
For every poem has its cross to bear
Before it's cruxified
and rise in air

It might be painful
It might be disdainful
It might be lightning
It is so frightening
Could be the thunder
That has my number
It could be Jesus knocking
concerned about my mocking
It could be my future
or my lack of culture
It could be those fried reasons
maybe it's Jackie Gleason
It could be the hollow
that always seems to follow
me into the night
so black without any sight
It could be a light
from my star at height
tumbling through the heavens
or bread that is unleavened . . .

All I know is it just happened
while I was here just napping

It's complicated
like riding a bicycle
rolling dice
falling in love

It's dedicated
like a song
a book
to a heart

It's laminated
like a card
a pass
pictures of you

It's terminated
like a library card
love
then life

I heard it in a song
I felt it in the breeze
It held me all night long
Called to me from across the seas

The spirits be unleashed
I hear it in their moans
Will their agony be released
They can't find their way back home

Never to be body done
Barb wire and reds for breath
From beginning of the bone
to the door of death

spiritually uneasy
just looking for a way back home

The wind blows across the bay
You say it's time to let it go
I turn to face the force
You're right , inside I know

I bend to the sand
let the grains run through my life
I stand straight , face my fate
Embrace the strife

Like a book overdue
A page ripped out
A heart mutilated
A charge turned to rout

The wind has increased
The clouds roll in
And I know what happens
to houses
Built on sand

If in nothing
   then in all
Must I sin
   to be saved
Must I wrong
   to be absolved

Forgiveness comes
   at such a cost
Must I pierce the heart
   to come in lost

In the darkness
   in the light
In the confusion
   of the night

You can call it incoherent
   incompetence
You can call it a
   deterrence
  
Just don't call it a
****** innocence

I call myself
I fall myself
Too tall of a mountain
to climb
to be bookshelved
without a reason


I paid the price
There's no doubt
the flames burned out
All that remains
are the ashes doussed

All alone in the dim
Where all my fantasies
seem so slim
Where all chances
have evaporated
Full of nothing to the brim

Missing the someone's
whispers of night
Takes out the control right ?
But the "you" memories are made
The music played
The sorrow displayed

The ache soothed by
the medicinal *****
Watching the moonlight
fade away as it moves
Finding all my madness
in the black of blues

It was a long way there
The struggle conquered
Acceptance and congratuations
were abundantly spread
The offers poured in
So many were the choices to be made

The years were productive
The appreciation spread
The satisfaction warmed my heart
I had it made all the way to my grave

It was a long way there
but now I see
It's much longer coming back

I've had enough
of the words of rhyme
Locked away behind
the bars of stanzas
doing time

All the hopes
and wanna be dreams . . .
Just more nightmares
with chilling screams

No I had it !
and I don't want anymore
I don't want someone knocking with words to implore

Go take your metre ,
Yellow pencils number four
I don't want to hear you
knocking on my door

You can go post
and share with the world
Shelly , Keats , Byron . . .
They all make me feel sterile

A sonnet for your bonnet
Haiku for beret
You can put a quill to it
Go have your good Shakespearean
day

I've really enjoyed my stay
Brought tears of joy
To my day

I'd really would like to stay
But the flip of the coin
says , nay nay nay

You've all been so kind
Made it all worth
my time

But it can't be put off
a second longer
no time to scoff

Call me a supertramp
A hobo hologram
Call me anything
you'd like to stamp

Just don't call me
I'm the son of moonlight
Silent soft and free

I walk the path of
Jeaus Christ
I often stumble
and make a mess

I find sin
again on end
I beg forgiveness
so I can mend

Then I get up
every morning
Take a deep breath
and start again

I am weak
A pathetic soul
A lost sheep
from the 100 fold

My seed falls
amongst the cracks
Raises up stems that
the sun beats back

How I long for
living waters
To cool my my soul
To discard this earthly mold

Til then
I will live in my place
Awaiting the gift
of Holy Grace

Nothing like southern summer heat and red clay dust on the sweaty skin of reality .

It would **** me now and notch another nick on the barrel of time with a defiant smile of victory
Why wouldn't it , never having known defeat making all bow down in submission to their accepted fate

All those fearless words of defiance . "Go not gentle into that goodnight "

I wait on the rain due upon the last breath of night
Just like it waits on my last breath of life
Come thunder , I see not your light . Let me feel the vibrations of the voice of God . Let me walk this way alone together

Yes I do .

It's fast approaching
almost a year
And I am a reflection
of the love that
just suddenly
dissappeared

I ran through the gauntlets
of the turmoil's selection
All of the emotions
from hate though dejection

I know it's all part of his
plans
What's best for me I just don't understand

But when I look
at your pictures
I'm struck with the fate
realizing that there's really no definition for the phrase

. . . too late . . .

Yes I do .

I want , I want , I want ,
to be sad

The sun slides down behind the mountain

I want to be nothing inside

Where's the love every body promised
I would find on my doorstep ?

I think I just swept it away
day after day

I want , I want , I want
to be empty now

No pain , no remorse , no joy

If I have no love , I don't want anything
But an emptiness

Where I can fall into and be lost

Falling forever in nothingness

My own personal eternity

And yet I can see ,
see that there is nothing

Falling . . . free
Falling . . . in peace
Falling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I want to make love to a poetess
To caress her perfect metaphors

I want to taste her salty vowels
To embrace her nouns with care

I wish to kiss the lips of rhyme
Spread the legs of time

I long to lay on her haiku
Watch her image shine

I long to watch the ****** unfold
As each poem penatrates

Then we will complete an ode to love
As we watch the endings mate

I want you to wing it out
Flapping feathers in extreme
Nothing more than a blur
The forefront of a flash in the wind

Little more than a peck
as you brush your beek
I try to be a revelation
but my reaction is too weak

Clutch the truth in talons grip
Rip it to pieces on the cliffs
Meanwhile I stay hidden
mashing sweaty fists

At seven ,
I rode a bicycle
with over inflated tires
that burst in the dark
thumping hard the side
of the house
scaring us all

At eleven ,
I went to three
different elementaries
in two states ,
one fall ,
two winter ,
three spring

When thirteen ,
I had a home
with no roof
or walls and slept
under the wiles of
mother moon

Then at fourteen ,
at fifteen ,
and sixteen ,
I went to high school
in a house made
out of cards
The jokers ran wild

At seventeen ,
I moved on
moved out
and like an orphan
I was sponsored
without love
as a rock singing
"I Am A Rock"

" 'I have my books
   And my poetry to protect me
   I am shielded in my armor
   Hiding in my room
   Safe within my womb
   I touch no one and no one touches me
   I am a rock
   I am an island

   And a rock feels no pain
   And a rock never cries ' "

I was born
my place to serve
The train of my robe
ended before my
back would curve

I had many wings of endurance
Still I covered my eyes
for rest assurance

Four out of six
for adoration
One mustn't forget
ones place of separation

The whole hosts
was more than a dream
Every nuance well thought
out down to the minutest scheme

Divine by all measure
No encapsulation here
Long after creation
the truth will appear

I was just a cowboy
whose story goes untold
I rode the range in
summer's heat and
the winters long and cold

My legs were bent and so bowed
From years
on horses that I rode
And memories that I made
were my treasure trove

I saw every sunrise from across a coffee cup
And every sunset wrapped up in a blanket as I sat and supped

I am no more lonely
than a wolfen howl
While underneath the stars I find myself blessedly so wowed

And everyday is like the last in my paradise
I have no chords that bind my life
to your civil strife

Give me open range
and ways that are ever fittingly so free
And kindly please
will you let me be

I was to catch her
in  the rye
Maybe maybe
say goodbye

Alex stood naked
cloaked in orange
singing shivers
in the rain

We all know
how the story goes
So it goes
So on it goes

El Bib the acronym
To be read
back and forth
from end to end

Huckleberries
the river flows
down wrong paths
Big Jim he knows

I was the phoney
in the rye
A clockwork orange
in disguise

I weave the shroud of aches that last
With the threads of friendships past
My ocean remains so deep
In the remnants of the words I choose to keep
I collect the smiles from lips I see no more
Left to wonder where to implore
Another thread has come to edge
The end and exit
from the stage
No longer do they open doors
Nor leave a shadow upon my floor
No there no longer comes those knocks
As if the hands have stopped upon the clocks
So in my mental loom of care
I leave another row of thread with much more room to spare

They will bury me in my shroud
Someday sunny, perhaps in cloud
And I will be richer beyond the grave
In the memories of friends that I have made

I will never be
anything as beautiful
as a tree

And if I had
I would have been uprooted by storm
and then washed
out to the sea

I have roots but
but none too long
I stayed barely a night
before I was moving on

Never had friends long enough
Keeping up with them
was just to tough

Their names were tacked by letter
to the front door
But I only opened it up
to be moving
on some more

My roots run
only Kudzu deep
But still they are
honeysuckle sweet

They stand tall
as a Southern pine
in fall
They have a say
like a black crow calls

They run down
to the riverbed
of dreams

You catch me
lost in them
it always seems

I will never be
anything as beautiful
as a tree

But I have bark
that makes up my skin
And rings of years around the center of me

And I've branched out
and made a canopy
of all of my days

All without the aid
of a root system
So in that
I'm simply amazed

I will never be what I wanted to be . . .

. . . as I sit on the dunes looking at the sea . . .

I contemplate what was , what is , what is due

I watch the waves come in and crash , recede , and crash again

So were my chances that came in waves , receded and crashed again

My life's foundation resides on these impermanate dunes

I cannot stand for long on the shifting sands ,
changing with the winds of time , before I am forced to move

Motion made me . . .
The vibration of the small details
I know you know but you never told me

I will never be what I wanted to be . . .

But that doesn't matter anymore

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

I will not be a stain
upon the pages
of your four
cornered vile

Nor do I wither
but strain to keep
perpendicular the line
so compiled

Your broadsword words
of audacity flecks
off my shield
inconspicuously

Leave your lectern
note for note
For you cannot rage
without your kickstand support

So faberge your doting dribble
Your sculpture is cracked
saturated in strychnine
and mace

Each day is kindling
Night time consumed in desire

She is a matchstick
to my wild raging fire

Her thoughts are made of gasoline
Her touch is so hot

When she holds me
My whole world will rock

She is an angel with a robe made of fire
She licks at my flesh
and the flames shot higher

She is an angel
burning brightly in my might

She will devour me
trying to make ash out of the night

I will be the devil
To her earthly delight

But I refuse to burn
I wIll not ignite

She is an angel , a flame of delight
She is my angel
As we burn down the night

I write poetry
for eveything else
has failed

My life has no bottom
It's Hell down inside
my well

Do not feel like you are
sorry
Do not feel at all

Go write some kind of
poetry
It's better than digging wells

Not believing in God for
lack of proof is such a lame excuse .

You are growing
changing with the times
Your past no longer pleases you

You need to reach out
to new heights
of exceptionalism

Be not content
with who you are
but who you can be

If you are ever reaching out
you are constantly letting go

There it was
in plain sight
I stared and stared
but it didn't
look right
I checked the spelling
and was assured
that's the way it's
spelled

I said what the Hell

Something I saw
now for every day
How could it change
so much in every way

Jamais vu !

When Jesus bled upom the cross
His Father caused the clouds
to hide his eyes .

"Father ! Father ! Why have you forsaken me ?" , were amongst the last words of  Jesus' cries

God had a choice to save his Son
Or to save the likes of us

To save just one or the many
What on Earth would you have done

I know most would choose their own skin
over the likes of him

They do it every day
again and again and again

So you've sacrificed your nothings
expecting huge dividends

Don't be surprised if
God doesn't
turn away his face again and again and again

How great is the Love of Christ ?
It's not limited to the four corners of the cross
For his love is rooted in a rocky foundation
And it reaches around the world in both directions
And is always reaching up in  a Heavenly direction encouraging us to follow

The sands sleep beneath the mists
As the breath of time sets in
And the memory of you
Settles soft upon my skin
I feel your hand of time entwined in mine
As you call me your El Cid
I return the devotion , calling you Jimena , my devine
And across the morning mist
We will once again walk hand in hand

In a latter day I found a wonder
But no where near the age
I am sadden by the book
With the many missing page

If you are my Jabal Tariq
Then I will be your rock El Cid

But far across there is such distance
That no man can rid
Perhaps in another life
Closer we will be . . . .
And I will return as your El Cid
As you my Jemena , come back to me

From the song "Scared" off the album "Walls and Bridges."

"Hatred and jealousy gonna be the death of me . I guess I knew it from the start ."

I was going to wait until
until December 8, 2030 for the fiftieth anniversary of his death to post this but I'm thinking why wait around so long . "Imagine" that . It's "whatever get's you through the night" . Too much "steel and glass" in this world anyway . Besides "no one loves you (when you're down and out)"
"No one loves you when you're old and gray . No one needs you when you're upside down ."

"I'll scratch your back and you knìfe mine ."

"I'll see you on "cloud nìne" ."

We are God's chosen few
All others will be ******
There is no place in Heaven
for you
We can't have Heaven crammed

(Now change Jonathan Swift's name with America's Billionaires)

Jot was the mischievous one , bending the truth to suit .

While Tittle stamped their point over the head of truth .

I woke up this morning
In the middle of the night
Saying to myself
such a dandy plight

Every thorn has it's rose
Every brier patch it's hare
Every Monday has it's shame
for the weekend it bares

You can buy salvation
for a dollar a shot
During happy hour
So much redemption why stop ?

All the glasses
in a row
Why they call them shots
I already know

Every thorn has it's rose
Every brier patch it's hare
Desolation is one after another
Until you just don't care

The greater gift you receive is when you give to others .

The love received is equal to the love you take

Tomorrow is the light of stars that died millions of years ago

You breathe in the breath of God , pray he doesn't cut it off

Your ship at sea is but a speck in God's eye

If there was no evil everyone would be running around naked

Starslight , the cold hearted manifestation we love  reminding us of our past

Resignation , the acceptance of the unacceptable

Love , the flickering match or scoarching sun and every lumen in between

Forgiveness is the ease when others forgive us of our unforgiveness

Goodbye has two wide eyed "OO's" looking into the past

Soul is the soil of Heaven

Nothing is the greatest gift you can have before you can have a thing

Farewell is the token to the toll bridge of our passiing lives

I find no comfort in my joy
No relief in the row I ***

It seems that all has been taken
From every day I know

I'm not saying I feel Moses
Who gave up on all he had

To lead his people's promise
To the edge of being glad

It is as if it has been taken
Since the day that I was born

That leads my soul to be shaking
So thread bare worn , soiled and torn

Those whose open palms are waiting
Whose angry scorn reveals

Over hot coals my life they're raking
So happy that they squeal

In time they will crush me
Grind my bones into the dust

But they will be soon to follow
Sometimes life will turn out just

Just because I thought . . .
was the futherest from the truth

I dedicated all my energies
to the wasting of my youth

Here's to love and family
and all my shady friends

That leave me cold and lonely
Was it worth it in the end

Bitter is as bitter does
The cup will measure up

Bitterness comes from a root
Buried deep inside the gut

Sure I have my memories made
They never let me sleep

I twist them into my dreams
the ones I never keep

The Indians left behind the old ones
who could not match their step

Perhaps it was kinder still
than prolonging the agony of their death

Whose bones I walk upon I will never know

Just know it's getting harder
to get off my *** and go

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

Your words strip me bare
My words address you up
■    □    ■    □    ■    □    ■    □    ■    □    ■
once the boy of youth was not contaminated
the boy knew only sadness or happy

Frogs , lizards , and puppy dogs
creeks , trees , summer breeze
○    ●    ○    ●    ○    ●    ○    ●    ○    ●    ○
Don't ask of me the answers to the questions
You carry in your black brief case
☆    ☆    ☆    ☆    ☆    ☆    ☆    ☆    ☆
The tide fascinates the little boy
Sitting by the bridge for hours to see the ebb

The moon is the star he wishes upon
No one said any indifference
♤    ♡    ♢    ♧    ♤    ♡    ♢    ♧    ♤
On cool Washington grass he would lay at night , just for a glimpse of Telestar

In the haze of August days on Florida's bays
He fought sharks eye to black soulless eye
□    ■    □    ■    □    ■    □    ■    □    ■    □
The dreams grow old , cataract on my memories's sight , turn cold , die

My dreams once protected my life like scales
From the largest Tarpon covered realm

#    #    #    #    #    #    #    #    #    #

So it came to pass and the battle begun
By the bite of an adder ,
a sword shinning in sun
You pierced Mordred's heart
with the spear you found
He split your head
knocking you to the ground

Return my sword to the Lady of the Lake
I've not long ,
for tomorrow I won't make
Place my body on my shield
Use it as my tier
Let my people see and shed any tears
Bear me away
to the far sacred shore
My eyes are dimming
I can see no more
Seal my dreams in my breast to be
This be my final request
I'll ask of thee

BODY
  the ashes in the urn
TREASURES
  buried , lost to time

all I need is God beside

CASTLES
  crumbling ruins
ARMIES
  all been slain

still all I need is Jesus

TIME
  has passed me by
YOUTH
  is on the fly

I fear no shadows
with both by my side

Ah , those waterfront alley cats
Full of scars and paws
Fip Flip Flip , go the blades
Around the Heart's hub
As transon's go , they do
Take a beating in the ruff
And your spinnaker flurls
To the magic winds of
The long lost voice of midnight
No need to tack
All is "Flying"
And the Sphinx
Is smiling in silence