(The things I ask of myself while sitting in the dark)

I shoulder the borders of everything . . .
of the nothingness trapped inside the air . . . is Atlas crushed ?

All the holy mole of mountains that I've stumbled over , am I saying I never really cared ?

The indentations of life ,
the craters that I plunge carelessly into . . . can I crawl my way back out ?

That sentence in the book of life ignored returns , was it just to haunt me . . .
or is it a reaping of the sorrow that I chose to sew ?

A toxic attitude , from the grapes of wrath , has it aged well in the bottles of time  . . . do I keep drinking up the past ?

Twisting around it's not the worthy that I find

Yet . . .

A finite year of imperfection it surely was
that indeed .

I have this cause so consuming . . .
like an overdose that's overwhelming

When salt water was as sweet as the memories that washed over my feet by the edge of high tide's completion


"Go find the door to your ambition
before it closes to the winds of desiccation"

The binding has cracked
the paper turned yellow  
Touching ,  now brittled backed
So it has been written "finis" upon the last page of life

The words I collected like seashells
as the wrinkles of face grew to foretell

The foam and waves swept over my toes
as the sand was ****** away from beneath

They say the pain will go away .
then they wish you well ,
. . . turn . . . and walk away

I look back upon life as if it were a dream :
a scheme . . .
a scream . . .
and so naive

"I will check out the skies in Rome ,
I promise now when winter is gone"

I long for the hot sands of purification
Where the bleached bones
have reached end's destination

Somewhere next to a Coptic sea
where time falls short on eternity I will kneel to my desperation


In another year
it will be another day's difference in time ,
as another grain of sand falls it loosens its bind

"Won't you come and bring thirst's renewal of relief ?"

Don't leave me gazing . . .
searching for that distant smile . . . buried in my  beliefs

If not . . . then
let me wish you well . . .
turn . . . and walk away

They are the hard of face and infirm of heart
Brazen is their gaze

They carry a shameless attitude standing firm in unyielding fields of maze

Even stubborn
in their proven guilt
They are fleshly grasping traitors

Like insubordinate children
with sardonic wiles
dedicated Chaos is their choice to savior

Oh ! come on man !
They're original copies !
Two of my best !
Two poems for a joint ?

Sorry dude .
I'd just wind up using them
to roll on desparate days .

I'm tired of the way the ways tire me

I reversed the current on my fan . Now it turns the way I think

I have a radio . I use it to collect the dust of passersby , not passerbys

Why do I like scotch and Irish music when I am English ?

A little fae told me sidhe is pronounced "Shay" . I thought that strange .

If Salvador Dali and Pablo Picasso had been novelists would they have illustrated their books

Wine is like crime and punishment . It is plucked , crushed , bottled up , and put into solitary confinement for years , then poured out and ****** away .

All poets are crazy , anyone who disagrees is crazy .

Stock futures are yesterday's indecision

The last in class in medical school is called doctor
The last to class is called tardy
The class in being last is never having to look over your shoulder to see who is following you

I'm tired of the way the ways tire me

I reversed the current on my fan . Now it turns the way I think

I have a radio . I use it to collect the dust of passersby , not passerbys

Why do I like scotch and Irish music when I am of English descent ?

A little fae told me sidhe is pronounced "Shay" . I thought that strange .

If Salvador Dali and Pablo Picasso had been novelists would they have illustrated their books

Wine is like crime and punishment . It is plucked , crushed , and bottled up , put into solitary confinement for years , then poured out and ****** away .

All poets are crazy , anyone who disagrees is crazy .

Stock futures are yesterday's indecission

The last in class in medical school is called doctor
The last to class is called tardy
The class in being last is never having to look over your shoulder to see who is behind you

Brickering words
The sand of sentences
Added to the waters of time
Cemented into the ever evasive desires of heart

What fools expect and deserve are written on the walls and heart of poets

. . . and they know it

The whispers in my ears
roll out the resurrection of the mourning

My heart or head ?
Which one bled the most ?

The thoughts turning red
The heart to water
I can barely twist the truth
I'm so wrung !

One who hides from the sun .
Rushes to the bullyrush where softly the wind weaves magic/reeds ìnto protesting spells of endeavor.
In the shadows of willoes
hang the serpents of time/chance waiting on deliverance .
Weathered/weavers form the ultimate slow living of a textiled existence .
Colours mix/matrix green of envy , poetically purple/pride , and somber blue/desperation of fireflies in the nights/flight .
Off/on , off/on , and . . .
No one can tell me of the taste of death . I wonder/wonder , sweet or sour .

.
.
I am the witness to an empty age
Feel the noose as tight as the open grave
See the truth and call it lies
And as you speak someone dies
And the poets go on writing amid the cries
. . . of anger and the questons why

See there is no justice anymore
The cops have become the thieves and even more
Poisons **** us just breathing air
The heads of states refuse to care
And the raindrops glow as they fall on the wheat
Compliments of Fukushima and climate's changing increasing heat

So I have been called to testify
So have you as you were there
But like the billions who wait their turn
Justice hangs by sword on a single strand of gold/orange hair

I strained in my iniquity
Looking for the light
In the mist of my
darkest blackness
a voice whispered
"You have to turn and fight "
Gather up the flocks of words
Make them the sacrifice of your lips
Record what flies through the air
From the axe that's sending chips

Wisdom is what wisdom does
There's no room for shadows of delight
Let you face be baptized
Bathe upon the light

The intelligence of words makes us happy
Much more than the feelings from the heart
Offer up the sacrifice of our lips
Make it the bridge that spans the arch

They say you can never
know
Precisely what it is that you no

The car ran on and on and
on three wheels
Wasn't sure on how many
pills

I stared at the palm of my
hand
My future looked so **** ******

The confidence was all spent
Time I moved on and
went

I stood on the corner ,
warmer
Thinking about times , stoner

They say you can never
no
Now I just wouldn't
know

Hello Margaret , it's been thirty years now to the day .
Gee I would like to ask how you are but that seems silly now anyway.
Hard to believe it's been thirty years to the exact day .
Thirty years since you took your life away .

Angel is all grown up now with two children of her own and another on the way .
When I asked her if she wanted to come she looked down and said , "Tell her I love her ."
It still bothers her unfortunately .

Me ? Well I grieved for years and finally crawled out of my hole . I met Ann and she has made me whole .
You know I love her as much as I loved you . It's just another kind of love , different than the love I had for you .
She's waiting over there inside the car . She understands how I feel and will always be that way . We have children now , two of our own . I think you would love them if it were left to God alone .

But it's not about me that brings me here today . I just had to see you and just wanted to say that I still love you and will never change my way . And for some strange reason I thought I would hear you say you feel the same way too ,

This title is for no one
No it's not meant to be about you
It could be for everyone
But that would never do

I'm wide awake as the witches are
Just a mere minute now past two
I'm always awake it seems
I've nothing better to do

I saw an overweight puff ball cat ,
a tabby orange and white
It was eyeballing me
up and down out by the glow of the light

I haven't seen the moon now in so many months of May
The trees are so thick around me it's hard to even see the day

There are no gorillaz near me
But there are orangutans driving their cars
They like to pull out in front of you
They look like they spent the night in a bar

The days are getting shorter
But it feels like summer time
I know that winter is coming
I saw them stringing up Christmas signs

Why do they call it Black Friday ?
I would think white would surely do
I'd say Tim Burton was responsible but if I did I'm afraid that he just might sue

I always want a drink by starlight
But the Liquor stores are closed
During the daytime I emphaticly refuse to buy
A split personality I suppose

Well the sun should be up by now
It's a quarter after ten
Yawn oh Yawn !
It's time to turn it in

Those
Who have
the most to say

Usually
say the least

Our ambitions are sweeter
than the fruition of our dreams

I'm through recalling
    all those kiss filled
    summer nights

I'm through wishing
    I was holding onto
    you so fast

I'm not going to cry
    over the day you
    said your goodbyes

Nor will I sigh
    and languish in a bottle
    like so many other guys

Those days I have forgotten
     and I will not let
     them begotten

I only wish it were true :
     but like a skip on
     a record I can never
     get over you

The black teenager gave the two white police officers a thumbs up and yelled Trump at them . The two officers looked at each other then beat him to a pulp just to be sure .

Cloudy tonight
With chance of fear 70%  
Tomorrow tears likely , 90% chance
with thunderpoems possible
by evening , some severe
Emotional downpours may occur
Those living with low lying esteem
Should seek higher ground

Dust flowers up from the Chilton County dusk
Rust is flaking off the pickup that has a skunk musk

Bullet , the blue tick hound from your sleeve pulls it
Could it be another hot day in August , would it ?

Peaches have last month gone to fill the niches
Beaches at the river are low , full of leeches

Summertime in Alabama is a long ******
Funnier than that song , swing low number

Gathering distant dark blue clouds that are a mattering
Battering thunder rolling , lightning shattering

Huge drops splattering on clay so Rouge
Deluge now soaking , coming down like a luge

Passing with one loud Crack blasting
Massing clouds now are just in a fasting

Tim Leary and Lenny Bruce
met one Saturday turning on to the pike so they tuned in to the parking lot of Purgatory's Bar and Grill and decided to drop out for the afternoon .

The strategic opportunity to make decisive decissions
that define the moment we call time .

The amount of time it takes
to traverse the distance between two points regulates the definition of our concept of time

The shorter the distance the faster time flys
The greater the distance a moment in time takes becomes eternal unless it encounters an obstruction
It takes light years to measure the time between the stars
It's instant from eye to nose
In a black hole time stands still held by the immense gravational pull .
We see time measured in the distance by light
Without light would there be any time ?
Only God knows
Let there be light .

I tried to cut the wind once
But no mater how hard I slashed
It was all a futile effort
In the end I was abashed

It grew angry with me
It's patience grew so thin
Then the cold wind cut right through me
as if foolishness was my only sin

I was a busy bee in clover
I would hover above the pretty flowers
Drinking their sweet nectar in
and passing away the hours

The blossoms were so many
The fields so ever wide
I shared all of my golden pollen
From petal to petal
I flied

Some flowers tried to hold me
Their alluring scents filled the air
They dazzled in many colors
Sashayed with seductive flare

Then they tried to finger me
Tried to attach their silky strings
But when they thought they could handle me
I let them have my sting

Buzz off . . .

He dealt in tissue paper reality
Layered upon layers of issues
Of Nothing at heart

As empty inside as the wind
That blew his papers apart

He wore his emptiness like a badge
Futility was his halo
A cold empty glow of nothingness

And as his tongue wagged
The sounds were unintelligible
And when he stopped his eyes
Beamed with approval .

While I wondered . . . pondered
Without disapproval
Simply dazed . . . amused
Wishing I wasn't there

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

An ill-built wall
of stone and brick words poorly joined , not motared but plastered with white wash and held together by precarious tension .

Mostly clear , 44° , 26% chance of rain

🙄    ***?

.
.

I will not follow the rules of the past
Not when the future beckons at last
Though it is great standing here now
I've come to realize I have
new fields that need to be plowed

The days of the past are like handfuls of jewels
But to make them all shiny it took time with the appropriate tools

I lock up my tresures in my heart not the bank
To all of those souls I owe
I'm shouting out thanks

But the door beyond has been opened a crack
My curosity has been  intrigued , you know that's a fact

So I have shut the door to the house Yesterday
After all it has aged , sags with boards turning gray
And I am standing on the presence of porch
With a cloth wrapped stick dipped in oil that will be my torch

So while what once was my home is now going up with the smoke
I've already poured the new foundation for you to take  note

Every step into the future
is one for the past
Each breath taken in could surely be last

He said "Yes"
I said "Okay."
But I really wasn't listening
to what he had to say
I was looking through the past
with yellow tinted lenses
When you have been driven out
they don't let you sneak back in

So we will build a green bricked wall
that smells just like money
After all this is the land
of milk and honey

After a long lifetime
I'm sure it broke his heart
to see the promised land
from the mountain top
The new land lay before him
But his time had come to part

Forty years with cloud by day
A pillar of fire at night
Jesus spent his forty days
in the desert wondering about .

Satan took Him to his mountain top
Promised him the world
"No thank you Satan
I'll give Heaven now that whirl ."

You see it was Jesus that said "Yes"
When I uttered that "okay"
He looked at me and then he said
"I see you have a lot to learn
before you come back home one day."

I watched my father
take his last breath
Drugged , deprive of food and water
slipping away into death

Yet he resisted ,
he struggle to say .
But the drugs
prevented him
as they held him
in sway

The memorial crossed
my thoughts tonight
Then spread to the history
of my life by the light

From the earliest beginning when I was just
child
Death was stalking me
following me around all of the while

A neighbor from tornado
Crib death of a child
plane crash , polio
Mile after mile

Death became second nature
A fiend always that be
That shadow always standing there next to me

I used to joke and call him my friend
But I never saw him smile or attempt to grin

So as the wheels of life continue to spin
I'm left here standing next to him

I tell death I'm moving on beyond his grasp
Entering a new dimension
where he cannot pass

There are no emotions
in his vacuous eyes
And I wonder if he believes it's just more of those lies

Born on the rivèr
Raised in desert dunes
Rolled in yellow flowers
of Cascadian blooms

Never a stop
for very long
Before I was rolling
on and on


Fought the storms
Gulf of Mexico
Splintered the hearts
and masks
as winds would blow

The way of words
Two words to say
Coming or going
It doesn't matter
anyway

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

Trees reach up
The leaves reach out
The roots grow deep

Thus is my love for you

Plant your feet in my soil
Taste the salt of my soul
Place your future willingly

Thus your love for me

Sing the chorus of every leaf
Waving in a tempest tossed
The choir in green goes aloft

Thus our love is forever more

I think I'll take a trip to I don't know
So I can sit back and whistle low
Thinking about all the loves I've come to know
Thinking about how they go

I'll sit warm with morning sun
Kidding around can be so much fun
Golden rays upon my plate
Eat up my waffles , it's getting late

I wondered where the pale moon went
He's out moonlighting is what I think
All last night he was certainly a no show
But who am I to even know

Somewhere there's a distant dream
Hiding behind the unsewn seams
There's a tear in the universe
I guess it could be so much worse

The clouds are playing tag in the sky
Fumbling around , putting on a show
Watch out as one falls down
The tears are falling , I might drown

I think I'll take a trip to I don't know

Get your RSVP (Respondez s'il vous Plait)

Your presence is cordially invited
(If you please)
To the Troll Invitational Only Ball
Come one , come all !
Only the best heed this call
Featuring the Marque band ,
"Smashing Poets"
Playing their monster hits ,
"Clip You At The Knees" and "The Killer In Me Sets Me Free"

Join in the festivities
As we debase humankind
A great time is guaranteed
For all "Troll" beings
BIG or small
So come one , come all ye Trolls
To the Invitational Ball


Comments :

The Thaumaturge : When we're we supposed to get our invites ?

Thomas A Robinson : What ? You didn't get one ? Must be some kind of oversight !

The T. : I'm sending you hate mail as we speak so that you know my address this time .

TAR. : Will do , I'll be in wait . . . not !

The T. : I don't own a car and I was reading a book literally the other day .

Craig Moore : Is the ball going to be under a bridge ?

TAR. : Of course !

The T. : I feel like I'd be shunned at a trolls only ball since I'm more of an antitroll if anything .

TAR. : Well it takes one to break one .

The T. : Nice to know my efforts don't go unnoticed .

Craig Moore : But there is only one ?

TAR. : Proxy ! ! !

The T. : Oh alright . I've got like a billion of those .

TAR. : That's proxies , not proxy !

The T. : Yeah , I've got a billion proxy .

TAR. : Proxies ! ! !

The T. : No I have a lot of proxy .

TAR. : Ha ha , that sounds moxy !

The T. : Is it just a little bit foxy ?

TAR. : Now I'm shredding your invitation !

The T. : What ! Why ? I thought that would be a perfect example of trolling . Don't make me drop the B-bomb !

TAR. : Trolling - the act of dragging a lure or bait behind a boat in the hopes of attracting a fish to bite the bait or lure becoming hooked and caught . You're troll bait .

The T. : That was the whole proxy/proxies thing ! And as for you , you are a troll incarnate TAR and not even a clever one .
Yeah Thomas ! Leave yourself alone ! Anyway I was supposed to be invited but they tore it up after I arrived .

TAR. : And you call yourself a miracle worker ?

The T. : You want a miracle ! I'll show you a miracle !

TAR. : What ? Hack my account ? Been done already .

The T. : That's not a miracle . Tell me what would impress you ?

TAR. : Simple , eliminate all trolls from here permanately . Should be only a minor miracle .

Tap . Tap . Tap .

TAR. : I see he cannot eliminate even one troll .

The T. : What are you talking about ? They're all gone !

TAR. : Smoke and mirrors . Don't gaslight me ! I'm an optimist . One who sees through fog clearly .

The T. : My only weakness .

TAR. : So put up or shut up .

The T. : Honest is the best policy .

TAR. : Honesty ! ! !

The T. : Thomas A Robinson your obscene proclamations are easily dismissed by adults . What would you do to a child in a public restroom ?

TAR. : I would call you for advice . Whoops ! No I wouldn't ! I would take the knife out of your hand .

The T. : You remove the knife from my hand only to find out that I'm actually a large swarm of bees wearing a trench coat .

TAR. : I would be the bee and tan your hive !

The T. : Maybe make a moovee out of it ?

TAR. : Bagging the killer B's . Pyrethium dreams . Your honey's run dry . You sting me I **** you .

The T. : That'd just **** me twice .

TAR. : Well good night Miracle worker . Don't let the bee mites bite .

The T. : I hate those bee mites , sweet dreams are made of bees .

TAR. : Ha Ha Ha , dear Annie Lennox is fumigating now . You're a Pox on everyone .

Mya-Angel Madden : How dare I miss the Ball of Trolls ! Whatever happened to Lucifer ? **** .

TAR. : Ah , the days of Lucy, when the definition of a troll was perfected !
All others now are just doormats in comparison .

Pintu Mahakul : Join in the festivities and this is very amazing definitely .. .

TAR. : Thank you Pintu Mahakul .

Trombone bones
don't make a poem
Funny that you ask

I wonder why or what
made you cry
Now I have to ask

"The bones are
then laid bare
upon the Sands of Time
and sun bleached pure"

"We hang by threads
until we cut
the rope of life that binds"

Then the funeral proceeds
down the street
Clairenets , trumpets
and trombones

Life is a chance
a game of dice

Won't you roll the bones
with me

Trombone bones
don't make a poem
Funny that you ask

I wonder what or why
made you the cry
Now I have to ask

"The bones are bleached
then laid bare
upon the Sands of time"

"We hang by threads
until we cut
the rope of life that binds"

Then the funeral proceeds
down the street
Clairenets , trumpets
and trombones

Life is chance
a game of dice
Won't you roll the bones

Troublesome love . . .

will not let you sleep . . .

Sort of like a basketball game . . .

Questions are bounced mad and furiously
against the hard wood floor with only
more questions bouncing back .

Meanwhile someone is trying to steal
your dreams causing you to twist and turn distorting your image .

And you fight your way down
the court of life and toss your hopes and
dreams into the air and pray to God . . .
go in.

True love is a bonfire
wood plus fire makes smoke
Wood is the physical
Fire is the mental
Smoke is the spiritual
You cannot have smoke
before the wood and fire
And when wood or fire
become exhausted
the smoke drifts away

True love takes .
For your happiness you must learn
to take love not give it away .
You become rich in love the more you take .
Have you ever heard of the saying ,
"The Power Of Love" .
That means as you hoard others love
you become powerful in love .
A powerful lover is Jesus .
He takes your love and gives you life .
You will too by taking others love
you give them life .

I asked God for the truth .

And he said "You will know the truth , and the truth will set you free."

But he didn't tell me it would make me sad .

You can't reject the truth without grasping hold of a lie .

A likeness of truth has shadows . Lies one can see through .

The truth
lies
in the mouth
of a politician

You broke the umbilical cord attached to this earth . With the south by southwest winds you rode a baleful streak . Like Poncho your life was left untold . Like a desert prayer that's just a whisper in the cold evening air .
Where they laid your body to rest , no one said . Now it's too late .
The virga falls never to quench the thirsty sands . The sorrow is planted as corn in rows of fertile futility . And dust is harvested , dust and tumbleweeds .
Reasons are the excuses we need to answer all the questions why . There is no reason in the south by southwest wind . And the tumbleweeds bend to the sympathy of an incessant desire .

"So what ?"

Is what I say to the troubling thoughts tumbling in me

"**** ! Did I say and do such an outrageous thing ?"

Yes you did and now it cannot be forgiven or ever outlived

No matter how many moans or sighs
No matter how many sleepless nights go by

It doesn't help to try and defend
You know deep inside you will never win

So I sit in the silence
In deeper than dark
I mull over and over
my history so stark

So roll on over
my tumble **** in thought
What I did do
and not what I ought

On opening a can of inspiration
I find it's all chunk white words
in spring water .

It comes with a waring not to consume more than one can a month . Something about the mercurial thoughts that can spirit you away .

Jellyfish . . . I dont't think they go good with peanut butter on white bread . I was raised on peanut butter and bread . Without jellyfish . In the summer there were a lot of them in East Bay , Panama City , Florida . We went swimming and fishing so we got stung a lot . Crabbing too .

I used to get these huge acorns and stuff my pockets with them then run down to the pier with my slingshot made out of surgical tube rubber and shoot jellyfish as they floated by . Most were small but some were huge , more than a foot across . Those I would pump a whole pocket of acorns into . Actually through them . My slingshot would shoot an acorn through a galvanized garbage can .

Winter's were bleak . Well not compared to the rest of the world . But the water was too cold to swim in . All the fish migrated away . Birds too . Except for the robins that had migrated from the North to spend winter there . All the white birds had gone . Gulls , cranes you name em .

Winter brought moody storms full of tempestuous emotions and gale force winds . Their overbearing attitude dominated life for days . But eventually everything turns back into Florida . The land that has always been a pushover when it comes to the weather . You name it . It probably has had the most unfavorable weather of any other state . Hurricanes , tornadoes , lightning strikes , on land and people .

Tuna , we used to go off shore tuna fishing on a boat named "Tuna" . We  caught Spanish and king mackerel , dolphins (the fish) and cobia which I grew up calling ling . But never any tuna .
Sometimes we would fish on the bottom for red snapper which if eaten fresh caught is the best tasting fish in the world .

Toads ! There used to be toads everywhere just before dark . My little brother and I used to catch them and put them in a cardboard box until dark then release them . One night I heard my mother scream and I ran to see what was up . My little brother was in the bathtub with about fifty toads . I hear there are hardly any toads there now . Same for the fish . I wonder how the jellyfish are doing .

We thread the wide gapped steel
With chemically dipped points
The fluoro carbons the distance
With near zero stretch
We braid our thoughts to tungsten
Then peg our weight immobile
Flip Flip Flip all day
Between the weeds and pads
Ever present presence fine tuned
To any tick upon the line
Snap ! Big one