I was always infused by the quartz of time
I balanced love in separate hands ; cut , aching , refusing to heal

Happiness was measured out one grain of sand at a time
My measuring cup runneth over

My thoughts are bleached  bone white .
But I have preserved the marrow of my ways

I am the walking cacti
that push rocks in the sand creating the trails of tears that never reach the ground

I am desert
Full of the emptiness
that exists on the face of clocks and time

I am one grain of sand
The silence of the wind
I have no foundation
I'm tendered to my whims

Desert clean
Purified by the sun's gleam

Sand . . .
in my eyes , nose and mouth

Temperature rising
as I head South

The unbearable burdens
thrown aside

I stumble on
trying to survive

No compass to bear
the sun will show

The choices I made
the resounding No's

Will be purified
Buried in sands of gold

I was sitting in my white room
Sitting on top of the world
Where there are no cares to implore
Never worried about if there was more
Touching monsters that are made to laugh
Tasting colors , smelling every sound
Bite the dog of realities hound
All this in a way , without any
Hell has come to claim it's fair game
In the deserted cemeteries of the heart

We are led by our own desires

Not inspired by God

The wish is father to the thought

Born from what's desired

"A desert with desires denied
Tread lightly my friend ,
around the edges .
A safer way to Akaba ?
Ha !", said Auda Abu Tayi
King of the Howeitat .

The air breathes foul in fog
As ,
they flocked with fleeting
extensions
of wanna be arms

The UFO'ed
realizations
had borders bleached
by
sun in tide's time

You find eyes
staring
into iota's intensity
you . . .
thought tepid in turmoil

Transient in permanence
bleeding
to the knife's known edge
emotionless
in the apartment's aperture

Drift away in the sadness of
Diane Arbus
whose facts flee from
fiction
"My favorite thing is to go where I've never been "

I walk upon the flames of my regrets
Rip up the roots of consciousness
from the darkened depths

Someday when and where the river
kisses the sea
When all the stars choose to fall
And there is no longer a gift from the sun
Then I will let leaf

Maybe not trenches
maybe just graves
Where I've laid all
my treasures ,
memories and rusty knife blades .

When I'm flying at 30,000 feet
All that separates my life from death
is the silvery skin and my dubious breath

Roman candles or Greek fire ?
My curosity dares me to inquire

What happens in the night
stays in the night

(1992)

a blazing fire on a rocking horse

a troll doll crushed in a vise

a skull ,
jello ,
chainsaw ,
and other things

Dim : "You asked ?"
"Can't this car go any faster ? Cause I can still see where I am ?"

(no one told you of the trouble you were in  , beyond the words of dim)

"Can't this car go any faster ?"

(that was before your life went dim)

"You should have told me ! Cause I can still see where it was I've been before my life went dim !"

sometimes
i want to be
nowhere
sometimes
i want to be
the shadow
instead of
the sun
to exist in the space
between wet
and raindrops
i long to be
the noise in the dark
you never see
the dark side of the moon
looking into eternity
the moan in the sea
mountaintop whispers
the wind blowing free
sometimes i just want to
. . . disappear . .

Snow , then rain
Laughter causing pain

Handshakes , no trust
Elation turns to bust


Stainless steel that rusts


Eyes of the wind
Tears of the ocean send

Gnats move mountains
Saints make sins

Kaleidoscopic lens

The distance between two lines is pointless .

We were mixing our affections
Kissing Dixie cups of wine
Laughing at the passing time

Our fingertips touching
And wishing for another
Chapter to be read

We were down at the barn
Where the horses stay

We were hanging around
messing around in the hay

You dropped your Dixie cup
I threw mine away
You smiled and said what the hey

The moon came harvesting
The stars were laughing
And we had our day that night

We were mixing affections
Kissing Dixie cups of wine
Laughing at the passing time

Our fingertips touching
And wishing for another
Chapter to be read

We were down at the barn
Where the horses stay

We were hanging around
Messing around under the hay

You dropped your Dixie cup
I threw mine away
You smiled and said ,"What the hey."

The moon came a harvesting
The stars were giggling behind the clouds that strayed
And we had our day that night

Like a cloud of confusion
you hang in the air
Twisting your hair
with that ******'s stare

Interstellar
your thoughts congregate
The space you consider
is thought to be great

You weave stardust
from your past supernova
Discarding past lovers
like yesterday's toga

Now you retrieve
uncollected past debts
Come into my universe
with assumptions to bet

But step back over the
eventual horizon
I won't fall into a
black hole that has no. . .
    
      compromising

Doing rhyme
     is doing time

You commit the crime
     they hang you out on the line

When all the crystaled dreams
     come crashing to the floor

When it's your turn to walk
     but there's no door

You tried and gave your all
     And the promises have just stalled

. . . I thought I'd call . . .
     and was put on hold . . .

Feeling my age , getting old
     realizing my mortality

Don't bury me in the dirt
A place for grass , spring flowers and trees
Nor slip my body overboard
There's too much trash at sea
Don't burn my remains
I'm against air pollution you see
Just send me down the road
Make fertilizer out of me

You left me twisting in agony
In the hurricane's eye of my mind
Where love goes flying by
Destruction , far and wide

Don't let me remember I loved you
Let me forget what I once held
Please don't agonize me
I fell from heaven , now reside in hell

Break the twines that hold me down
Cut the ropes of memories made
Release me from my sentence
Let me RIP in my grave

She is a cold wind
Glistening white glacial skin
Full of separation and crystals
ice , blue black sky , and thin

Thin lips penguin straight
uttering crisp words of fate
Frozen breath and heart
she invades your open gate

Gate swings by force
Her will of course
And you shiver . . . fear ?
As your voice grows coarse .

Coarse by Par
you can't get far
As you wish to be away
But she's trapped your star

Star , comets , galaxies too
You are captured  due
To the black whole Sum
that has captured you

.


Don't turn around to see me

Don't telephone

or leave any text messages


Don't send any poems

dedicating your affection

Reminding me of our interconnection


I leave all the keys to your heart

In the absence of my smiles

When all the words have crumbled


After what the angels take away

They always leave the words

That I stumble over in the dark


Now looking into eyes of no return

I feel the ache , the burn

Seems in love I never learn





and the dying soldier said ,"I smell bread"

I opened the door to love
The front door of my heart

You came in and measured rooms
Remodeled in all it's parts

And before I could say I knew it
You had rearranged my life to suit

Then you began to moan and complain
That my heart was way to small

So you began to shop around
And found a complex next door to the mall

Forgetting all those vows of I'll do it
My life like a revolving door you went through it

You left leaving the front door open
But you shut off all my lights

Now I hear your searching again
Your talk of true love , I scoff

Maybe it's on a secluded island
One with a two story loft

so be it . . .

Down by the river
Fog dances and swirls
To mists in thought

Down by the river
Swims the desires
we keep hidden deep

Down within the river
Flows the hardwired
reality that speaks

Dance fleet shadows
of souls heavenly
they seek

Down by the river
ache and heartbreak
forms swirling clouds

Down by the river
rising from the tears
we weep loud

Let us dance
our lives radiant , free . . .
Down by the river

I heard you broke the cassino
I heard you made them pay
I'm sure that many
Lost their jobs that day

Now I hear you are flying
In your brand new Lear jet
Somewhere to the south of France
Hoping to make the set

"So how's my little girl now
Do you still remember me
Or am I now just your
Distant . . . memory"

We grew up with all of nothing
That you could ever want to buy
But on nothing' sake
We did give it a try

Now you've hit the big time
I hope you never fall
Your pedastal rising upward
Ever . . . so tall

"So how's my little girl tonight
Do you sometimes still remember me
You gave me your locket
I gave you my key

Do  you ever . . . remember me"

A progress in the works

Life comes hard for the easy
Easy as you go
Take it easy
let it out fast or let it be slow

Someday Mercury will fall into the sun
With no more commotion that a phiff
And be gone
so easy
no rights or wrong

life is hard anyway you spell it

Dream ,
     after dream ,
          caught me dreaming

I dressed reality
     in dreams
As flesh and skin
     on bone

And my only crime
     was never beyond
          skin deep

"In silence I listened to the sounds of silence"

"I fumbled futility and it fell on a field as faultless as sin"

"Perfection was mine to make and along the way to lose"

"Anguish was the name of every moment we remember , regret his brother"

I fell asleep
and slipped into a dream
And found myself
on the white hot sand
of the Coptic seas
Where the wind
filled my soul
and brought back
life to me

I still hear the foreign
words so strange
The frustration of existing
The unique smiles that are so real
The mistrust in every handshake
Never any rain

I've been dreaming a lot lately all about my past
Like a ghost it haunts me
everytime I close my eyes

More like a resurrection
A raising of the dead
that I am not sure about

Like a train that's run out of track
A shooting star kissing Earth
A one way ticket as far
as it can go

Can't you see what those dreams have been doing to me

I claspe the dreams:
damaged
crumpled
crushed
incomplete
and deleted from
memory

. . . yet . . .

The lips of langurs
kiss the corpse
of death's sweet
nectar

While the interpretators are putting together
the interpolators
are extracting out

Then presage
dubulators
encliticly
compile  
their mistakes

The soothsayers
are cloud-mongers
diviners of the light
They go to bed
and rise again
like anyone who might

The sorcerers
possess broken shreds
flinging incantations
and drugs about
While the dreamers
examine the threads
of last night so they claim to find it out

piers , numbers , lights
C train soundtracks
disco biscuits
just trying to stay alive
just trying to revive

Here comes the rain
Here comes the pain
Here comes the slo motion catastrophe
that limps , lames , stains the woodwork
of the floor
. . . no more .

.
..
...
....
Rush Limbaugh

It's all there on the front page
Our vain glory has all been staged
We never lost a war
just snuck out the back door
How was it white man's destiny became a red man's leprosy
How this nation was built upon the backs
Of those whip slinging ******* jacks
And where all men are created equal except for women and blacks and latino children
After all God bless America
as long as your white
a good republican , rich or not too bright
There are cracks in its mighty walls
The rebar so corrupted there has to be a great fall
So this drive by history
is an aged metal band
Deep in their seventies
their heads in the sand

Frozen in thought . . .
the silver gray moon bends
the sun's will toward an earthly
gravel grave in the Walker County
strip pit .

It was only yesterday . . .
when the Cougar Eliminator
prowled the highways of disappearing
white stripes seeking a crescent city moon that lays naked in the bending arms of it's river lover

"Drive !" , he said . . .
so I hit the pedal hard spinning tires
and burning up the moments in haste
that I would someday regret throwing
to the stars

Like a wolf howls at the moon . . .
we howled at our youth . . .
so far from home unaware we were truly all alone in bent light of folly

The horizon cradled the moon . . .  
slipping beyond the bridges of our possibilities and I am thinking of Macbeth blowing out his candles

"Drive !" , he said . . .
life is a stage , a highway going forward measured by our distance divided by time we are so defined

I have driven to the moon . . .
collected sunbeams and bent the light
and drove back howling with a midnight's voice warm in the south by southwest winds

So I will drive on . . .

I have no reason
just a feeling
In my being

The wipers are beating
fast as they can go
The rain is faster
blurring my vison
just like my division

Lightning flashes
illuminating my thoughts
on my failures and
reasons for driving in the rain

Water swirling down the gutters
Viciously hellbent on destiny
A juxtaposition compared to my life

A desert in a thunderstorm

I collect my bag of worn out bones and  
raise up from amongst
my earthly grave
and stumble across the data page
knowing not what I have or have not made

All your words
go in one side
and out the other

All your praise
is disguised
but can't hide from the
truth in your eyes

Slip away like a ship
on high tides embrase
Fling your emotions as kites to hungry trees

Your concerns are the
footprints in March slush
A fish caught too close
to the edge of the falls

You crawl close in my sleep
with penetrating thoughts
Malicious intent , and deviant whispers of desire

I left the dust and tumble weeds
to be incomplete and moved
back east to where I was born

The trees crowded together
There was a change in the weather
I asked mom ,
"Is that rain?"

The people were crowded
With one thought and mind
Everything was designated
to be black or white

We caught catfish from
the Alabama River
Swam in pristine streams
full of soapstone

Then we moved again
Crossed Texas on our way west
Crossed the continental devide
Came to rest in Spokane

I sang God Bless America
while sitting on a fire hydrant
Looking at the purple
mountain's majesty

Then off again back east
Crossed Texas the third time
To Panama City , Florida
where we came to reside

There I learned
to abide by the tide
And that some things
you can't hide

Two and a half years
of bliss
Then we moved
once again

And again and again
and again and again
and again , again
again , again , again . . . .

All my travels
All my travails
I have found home
in the moment within me .

I.
I contemplate nom de plume (a).
The nomenclator (b) pax (c) kiss of peace (d) .
Coddle (e) the dowry (f) , the dowsables (g) pas de deux (h) .
Fill the kyack (i) with tidytips (j) from California , that land lease (k) .
No irrational number (l) , reality two (m) .

Definitions:
(a) non de plume - pen name.

(b) nomenclator - a book containing a ciollection of lists of words or names .

(c) pax - from Latin pax vobis (peace to you) or pax vobiscum (peace with you). A pax is a liturgical object used in the Middle Ages and Renaissance for the Kiss of Peace in the Catholic mass . It began to replace the actual Kiss of Peace in the 13th century .

(d) Kiss of Peace - An ancient traditional Christian greeting.

(e) coddle - treat in an indulgent or overprotective way .

(f) dowry - property or money brought by a bride to her husband on their marriage .

(g) dowsables - obsolete word for sweetheart or lady love .

(h) pas de deux - a dance for two people , typically a man and woman . A duet in ballet.

(i) Kyack - a packsack to be swung on either side of a packsaddle . Two connecting sacks .

(j) tidytips - an annual wildflower native to western North America .

(k) land lease - leasing the land upon which a tenant may own the home but not the land .

(l) irrational number - is a real number that cannot be expressed as a ratio of two integers . A number with an infinite number of digits .

(m) reality two - Jen Oliver Meiert - two realities . One is the physical reality . And the other is psychical reality .


II.
Fatten on krass (a) and farina (b) , fanfaronade (c) , mordancy (d) , honey and beurre noir (e) on toast .
Nothing to ambsace (f) !
The guidon (g) carried by a guidon betraying the one ,
"one's fancy" only to be crushed by a juggernaut (h) . . . promace (i) .


(a) Krass - German for gross or coarse .

(b) Farina - name in the U.S. for milled wheat .

(c) fanfaronade - arrogant or boastful talk .

(d) mordancy - a biting or caustic criticism .

(e) beurre noir - French for black butter .

(f) ambsace - the lowest throw of the dice .
Something worthless or unlucky .

(g) guidon - a pennant typically attached a pole that narrows to a point or fork at the end . A standard for light calvary .

(h) juggernaut - huge and overpowering force .

(i) promace - animal tranquilizer .


III.
Could I quintuplicate (a) the subdebutante (b) becoming tag end (c) ?
Would I cozen (d) the bulblet (e) from the branch Circe (f) ?
The Elaine (g) of long ago evanescent (h) my Hesperus (i) friend .
To Hesperides (j) especially , the Jinni (k), lowball comedy (l) .


(a) quintuplicate - fivefold . To multiply by five .

(b) subdebutante - a girl in her mid teens about to become a debutante .

(c) tag end - the last remaining part of something .

(d) cozen - to trick or deceive . Obtain by deception .

(e) bulblet - small bulb produced on a larger bulb .

(f) Circe - Goddess , nymph , enchantress or sorceress of magic . Daughter of Helios and either Oceania or Hecate . Able to change people into animals with potions or incantations .

(g) Elaine - the women of Arthurian legend who died of unrequited love for Lancelot . From Greek , a girls name meaning "sun's rays or shining light" .

(h) evanescent - soon passing out of sight , memory , or existence . Quickly fading or disappearing .

(i) Hesperus - the planet Venus . Evening star .

(j) Hesperides - legendary garden found at the western extremity of the world that produces golden apples . The nymphs that with the aid of a dragon guard the garden that grows the golden apples .


(k) - Jinni - also Genni . In Arabian and Muslim mythology the intelligent spirit with less ranking than an Angel that can appear in human or animal form for the purpose of possessing humans .

(l) lowball comedy - a deceptively crude comedy with underlying meanings .


IV.
My Maginot Line (a) , my Magen David (b) . . . before you board mae west (c) .
The squirting sea cucumber .
The Sammum Bonum (d) goes .
It's Watch Night (e) like a watch pocket (f) .
Zombism (g) we have digressed (h)
The incunable (i) mickle (j) , the  micawberish (k) pentagram (l)
exposed .


(a) Maginot Line - weaponized concrete fortifications built by France in the 1930's to keep Germany out .

(b) Magan David - originating from Medieval
Arabic literature . A hexagram (overlapping equivalent triangles) that was used as a talisman on protective amulets and was known as the Seal of Solomon . In the 18th century it was adopted by Jewish interest as the Star of David .

(c) Mae West - Personal flotation device (PFD) , life preserver . First inflatable life preserver created by Peter Markas in 1928 .

(d) sammum bonum - Latin . From Rome's greatest orator meaning 'The highest good' . Virtue .

(e) Watchnight - a service also called Watchnight Mass is a late night Christian church service . Held on late New Year's Eve . Also called Freedom's Eve service , a celebration and remembrance of the Emancipation Proclamation (enacted January 1 , 1863) which freed the slaves in the Confederate States during the American Civil War .

(e) watch pocket - extra fifth pocket on the right side of blue jeans made for a size 16 pocket watch .

(f) Zombism - the Kongo and Kimbundu system of religious rites . Characterized by worship of a snake diety during Voodoo rites .

(g) digressed - leave the main subject temporaryly in speech or writing .

(h) incunable - a book , pamphlet , or broadside ( a critical response) printed in Europe before the year 1501 .

(i) mickle - a very large amount .

(j) Micawberish - resembling the character of Wilkins Micawber in the Charles Dickens novel
David Copperfield . Especially optimistic to the point of being irrisponsible .

(k) Pentagram - five pointed star used in ancient Greece  and Bablyonia . Which is used today as a symbol of faith by many Wicans and said to have magical powers and associations .


V.
While the rabalo (a) swims the tropical seas
succes de scandale (b) .
While the Exmoor (c) ponies exert , ****** (d) in-and-out (e) .
And the Langur (f) from Laos
lies lethargic , drinking meadowsweet (g) ale .
The Nereids (h) tease and pase (i) in polyrthym (j) .


(a) Rabalo - common snook or sergeant fish .

(b) succès de scandale - a success due to notoriety or things of a scandalous nature . Public controversy .

(c) Exmoor - an area of hilly open moorland in west Somerset and north Devon in South Wales England named after the river Exe . Ancient royal hunting grounds .

(d) ****** -  Queen of Asgard and wife of Odin . Stepmother of Thor and adoptive mother of Loki .

(e) in-and-out - copulation

(f) Langur - long tailed aboreal monkey with a characteristicly loud call .

(g) meadowsweet - or mead wort is a perennial herb that grows  in damp meadows in Europe used to make medicine .

(h) Nereids - In Greek mythology the Nereids are sea nymphs , daughters of Nercus and Doris and known to be friendly and helpful to sailors .

(i) pase - a maneuver with a cape used in bullfighting meant to get the attention of the bull .

(j) polyrthym - a rthym which makes use of two or more different rthyms simultaneously .



VI .
The enchantress in a jaded jodhpur (a) .
So kitsch (b) with the live stream (c) mouth .
A menu (d) with folded mantis hands , a Nazarene (e) .
An à outrance (f) , an abstraction (g) .
***** envy (h) , reach-me-down (i) , rest house (j) south .
The simoon's (k) coming , simon pure (l) in simony (m) .


(a) Jodhpur - also called riding breeches . Tight fitting trousers that reach the ankles ending in a snug cuff worn primarily for horse riding .

(b) kitsch - German meaning ****** art . Excessively garish or sentimemental art usually considered in bad taste or lowbrow .

(c) live stream - to stream digital data . Data that is delivered continuously and is usually intended for immediate processing or playback .

(d) manu - (Sanskrit) is a term found in Hinduism . In early texts it refers to the first men , (progenitor of humanity) .

(e) Nazarene - native of Nazareth . A member of a group of German painters
working mainly in Rome who from 1809 sought to revive the art of Medieval Germany and early Renaissance Italy .

(f) à outrance - exorbitance .To the limit .

(g) abstraction - freedom from representational art . Dealing with ideas rather than events .

(h) - ***** envy - the supposed coveting  of the male ***** by a young female according to Sigmund Freud .

(i) reach-me-down - second hand clothing

(j) rest house - shelter for travelers especially when there are no hotels available .

(k) simoon - a hot dry dust-laden wind blowing in the desert , especially in Arabia .

(l) simon pure - untainted purity or integrity . Absolute pure , genuine or authentic . Also used negatively as pretentiously or hypocritically pure .

(m) simony - the buying or selling of ecclesiastical privileges . Such as something spiritual . Taken from Simon Magus
(Act 8:18) who endeavored to buy from the Apostles the power of conferring the gifts of the Holy Spirit .



VII .
Come Nisus (a), Lord of misuse.
With your Ibizan (b) hounds
and ewer (c) .
Your ebulient (d) ectomorphic (e)
mentality .
Board a carrack (f) to Chad breastbeating (g).
Put your thoughts on skewer (h) .
While seeking an essoin (i) , flannel-mouthed (j) idyllic (k) .


(a) Nisus - Greek mythology , King of Megara , son of Pandion of Athens . When King Minos of Crete beseiged Megara , Nisus's daughter Scylla fell in love with Minos . She betrayed her city by cutting off her father's purple lock . The purple lock of hair held magical powers if preserved . Nisus was killed and became a sea eagle . Scylla later drowned , said by the hands of Minos and was changed into a sea bird pursued by the sea eagle .

(b) Ibizan hound - named for an island off the coast of Spain . Ancient breed of hounds once kept by the Pharoahs around 3400 B.C.

(c) ewer - a large jug or pitcher with a wide mouth used for carrying water for someone to wash in .

(d) ebulient - cheerful and full of energy . Archaic - of liquid or matter boiling or agitated as if boiling . From Latin ebullire - to bubble out which is the stem of the word Bullire which is the ancestor of the word boil .

(e) ectomorphic - body having a build with little fat or muscle and long limbs .

(f) - Chad - a landlocked country in north central Africa . One of the poorest and most corrupt nations in the world .

(g) breastbeating - a loud emotional expression of remorse , grief , anger , or self recrimination .

(h) Skewer - stick or metal pin used to hold meat .

(i) essoin - old English . An excuse for nonappearance in court .

(j) flannel-mouthed - smooth and persuasive in speech in order to deceive or manipulate .

(k) idyllic - extremely happy , peaceful , or picturesque .



VIII .
Through the eyes of yashmak (a) ,
below the eyes of  yarmulke (b) .
Whey-faced (c) tunneled half-caste (d)  in a white haik (e) .
Genuflection (f) to Baal (g) , Jehovah (h) .
A docudrama (i) , carbunckled (j) .
As the cross hair sweeps
across professed
liturgist (k) .


(a) yashmak - veil concealing all of the face except the eyes . Worn by some Muslim women in public .

(b) yarmulke - a skull cap worn by orthodox Jewish men or during prayer by other Jewish men .

(c) whey-faced - pale , especially as a result of ill health , shock , or fear .

(d) half-caste - a person whose parents are of different races in particular a European father and an Indian mother .

(e) Haik - a large outer garment or wrap typically white and worn by people from North Africa's Maghreb region .


(f) genuflection - lowering of one's body briefly by bending one knee to the ground . Typically in worship or as as sign of respect .

(g) Baal - was a title honorific meaning "owner" , "Lord" in the Northwest Semitic languages spoken in the Levant during antiquity . From its use among people it became to be applied to Gods of fertility , weather , rain , wind , lightning , seasons , war , and patron of sailors .

(h) Jehovah - a form of the Hebrew name  of God . Means  "I am that I am" or "I am the one who is".

(i) docudrama - a dramatized TV movie based on real life events .

(j) carbunckled - to make painful , sore , or irritated .

(k) liturgist - one who practices liturgy . A form to which public religious worship is conducted . In ancient Greece a public office or duty performed voluntaryly by a rich Athenian .

Take the ego . . .
Not mine but your's !

Toast it golden brown , hot
put some butter and syrup on it

Now see if you can eat it
Without choking on the way down

What ? Milk ? Sure here's some 2%
See if it helps swallow it down

Here's seconds coming up
Hey ! It's your ego

I can't help it if it's large !

Have some more syrup . . . butter ?
How about a gallon to go

"An astonishing and horrible thing has been committed in the land :  The prophets prophesy falsely , And the priests rule by their own power ; And My people love to have it so , But what will you do in the end ?"
Jeremiah 5;30-31

All I ever wanted
all I ever found
Clouds of agony
soaking the ground
Rivers of pain
inside insane
Just because you limp
doesn't mean you're lame

There are 34,000 types of emotions

I don't know that many words 🤔

I wonder what I am missing ? 😳

That emotional feeling of being run over by a Mack Truck I hope to avoid

But I am sure there are others equally as bad queuing up to show me .
              🫣

P   picture perfect paintings

O   of openmouthedness
       oversimplication

E    evolving erudite
       eclamations
T    terminal tepid
       translations
R    rancid rich rauccous

Y     Yearning yesternight's
        yottabytes

All those empty cans of love
Piling up on the outside
Rusting away by
All the tears I've cried

Bent and dent
From all those lies
Crushed !
From all those tries

And like the fool I am
I reach for another can
Pry open the lid
I still have a little to give

Cold cans of love
Piled up high outide
A monument to all the times
I tried

Cold cans in the rain
Disintegrating
Turning to blood red rust
. . . my au fait

I was in pursuit
of empty phantoms
and thus emptied out myself .
I became a seeker of worthlessness and became as worthless too
I was raised by the bounty of my glory days
But now I am starving through and through
And I have defiled the hands that once guided mine
A realization that only comes with the passage due to time

My ego does not lie
For my ego is the lie


I was astonished
then horribly afraid
at the total desolation
of the phantoms in my
head

.
.
.
.
.
.
That's all folks

(What we need most
is where we look the least)


I opened up
the big blue barrel
dumped out all our past , present
and future quarrels .

(Just so we could
disagree)

♤  ♤  ♤  ♤

There was
a landslide
          of
em(bouldered) words

A tsunami
         of
emotional waves
all come
crashing down

destroying
all the
encapsulated gains

(the days ,
the months ,
the tears)

the living years ,
now come to disdain

(When you tread on danger's angst
Your words tongue
the leaks in dikes)

(When the clouds come promissing drips
. . . . . . . . . . . .
but instead
it's dust you eat)

Then ,
my lapras dear ,
it's time
to end the years

I .
I saw the past flee from me
Leaving puddles of memories -
( memories of sadness , salt and pepper , bread and butter ) -
How close we were together
The Glenn Iris in September

II .
The ocean swelled and crashed on the rocks
We made love not unlike the sea
The winter was cold , frozen in love
Then she chose to leave
All my seed fell frozen
All my dreams winter bare

III .
For February fallen
March ascending
Long frozen tears
soft wails , shivering chills
For the stars out tonight
are older than first love
have endured through the void and cold
and comes to me soft in comfort

IV .
There will be new dawns
There will be healing
There will be a new song
New hope and heart ,
as long as the Irish pipes play and wooden flutes . . .
. . . as long as there are walks at the end of the day
Secret gardens where little girls play . . .
As long . . .only as long . . .

V .
I drape the sadness like a quilt about me and dwell on being small
I'm not saying I'm overwhelmed ,
not saying I'm understood
Just saying a robin is
a promise on a snow covered lawn

VI .
Too much in the band
Standing on a corner downtown
Walking in the surf's foam
early one summer's morn
A train whistle  blows forlornly in a dream I have
Someone has been coming for me all these years

VII .
Was it all wasted ?
Was it something more than we know ?
A cup of tea in the morning
On the table lie the lines of rhyme . . .
and some time . . .
the supreme enigma

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

Flesh and bone lay fallow in the field
Covered with the soil of memories
Where crows stalk the furrows
Hoping for dead flesh
to make out a
meal

So be it , So be it
It was not our will
to will it

The piano plays drunk in the bar built like blue
Paid for by the taxiation
on alcohol consumed

You make me into someone that is no one
and see through me
like a ghost

And the world is
spinning around you
Making dizzy a thing
Without the glue
so falling apart

So smile for a while
Laughing
Holding your gin and tonic
To white teeth envy

Soon to stand under
the authority of deigned
resignation

So be it , So be it
It was never our will
to will it