You know what they say about plagiarism ? It's the lowest form of flattery .

The music popped
The music skipped
The needle rode the Mad Mouse
Around all week

Play again
The melody keeps
A win win
Because no one weeps

Bereft due breath
Love thy enemy
Life tastes best
In brevity

Catch me when I fall
Let me fall in spring
Winterize my visions
Turn off my dreams

One more time
Let it play again

Past - tap as Pat sat STP (a sap) at Apt's PT

Keeps me warm
on a cold night
Cradles my brow
from the intense light
Comforts me through my fears
Wipes away this pain , my tears
Open the pages of the book
Blank though they be , let's take a look
Be the pen and the ink
That sets my soul free to think

Poems are the MRI's of the soul .

You see it all the time
Poems strung out on pain
Shooting up words
destroying refrains
People disguised in their disguise
Pontificating truth in fact lies
Will we be dressed in black tie upon the death as we say adios , goodbye ?
Make this coda dance as the music reaches the sky

I will not cross the river
those boundaries in my mind
I can move across the desparation
not the dessication of my time

There's the threat
of another breaking dawn
Too late to contemplate
the all night mental storm

But al least there is one beast
That has kept me
in all night company

It seems the mocking bird
hurls threats to no one
as he flies by on the run

Just to remind me
poets are just one poem
from ever being done

He makes for
such poor company
I wish I had a gun
I wish I had a gun
I wish I had a gun .

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

Poetry and headaches
go together
like presidents
and lies

Sometimes . . .
Such as a Who
. . . at Leeds ,
Or a dream unfullfilled
. . . in Alabama
Or the conflict
. . . daily in Dallas
or the absurd
. . . "Free at last ! Free at Last! Thank God free at last !

The more it changes
The less I recognize
. . . and there you elbow me
saying ,"It remains the same!"

Poetry is like underwear
It's wearable but not necessary
Comes in all shapes and sizes
Any color you would want
with printed statements of facts
Some wear well
Some have holes
Some rise to the occassion
Some barely make it waste deep

Poetry should flow
like a babbling brook
with soothing repetitions
easy on the look

Poetry should thunder
like Niagra falls
Be as serene
as the far off wolfen howls

Poetry should be pure
as a maiden's heart
Full of meade and mischief
from the very start

Poetry should come from the pitch heart of man
Anything less I just can't understand

Someday I hope to be the eclectic
While I sing the body electric

There upon the page
in black and white
his words speak to me

From the shadows
too distant to reach
I feel her embrace
on the page before me

I try to read
through the tears
in my eyes

My chest heavy
as I try to breathe

In poetic pain
I grieve

Poets love poetry
but that is as far as it goes
Poems love the attention
Anything else just blows

Poems feed you lines
telling you it's the truth
while lying out of the corners of their mouth
Don't believe ? How uncouth !

Poems fill up books page after page
About their loves , betrayals , pains , and rage
Don't believe them !
Its all been staged !

It's not their masters they despise
That's not the thought going down
It's all in black on that feeling of white

They are always staring back at you without a sound daring you to put them down

Poets
who have
there
poems
taken away
are doomed
to
rewrite them !

She's pure alley cat
With fur and fluff so soft
She let's me pet her
If I put a hundred in the cuff

She dances like a pole cat
Around and around she swings
Up and down the bar
Spreading her butter flying wings

She can screech and howl
She's got the sharpest nails
When I  jump on her back
She really gives me Hell

She's every boy's dream come true
She every boy's nightmare
She's purely into herself
She's a wink and your last prayer

Hey , come here baby
Let me touch you over there
Oh , my !
Your so cold
Let me warm you up
With some gentle care

Let me strip
Off your wrapper
Let me lick you there
Uum , you sure
Taste so good
When your stripped down bare

Oh , my !
Your melting so fast
My hands are getting wet
But don't worry baby
A couple of tiny licks
And one giant slurp
And you'll begin to quake

Oh , my popsicle on a stick
Your sugar tastes so sweet
Your doubled barreled
Swing lock action
Has got me come complete

Life
follows
the channels
forcing
the creation
of oxbows
of determination

Curse the rising sun
Insult
the abandoning set

Careful ,
or your wings
will melt

Prayer needs a heart on fire to light the sacrifice of will enabling the sweet-smelling aroma of incense , that is pleasing to God , to rise to Heaven

If God granted all my prayers how miserable I would be .

Don't you want to touch me
Don't you want to feel my pain
Don't you want to swim down
the chanels of my veins
Can't you taste the poison
flowing slowly through the brain
Medication made in Hell
makes one feel like they're insane
Feel the sorrow baked into the marrow of the bone
Feel the lungs gasping for air
just to let out a simple groan
Feel the grip of depression
that comes from drugged induced
The voices nagging endlessly
Telling you there simply is no use
All because of asthma chronic though it be
You haven't given in to one
Hoping someday to be free

You promised kisses
beneath the old oak

You said you would give
youself to me then

Under the summer's
eager stary eyes

But they came
and cut the oak down

But not before
you left town

Now all I have
is the promise

Of firewood for those
cold lonely nights

Provide the truth so that I may know
Which side the winds choose to blow
I wandered aimless with
steadfast contemp
I borrowed the book that
you said you lent
oh yeah . . .

Well the whale went dry
after flood
You said I was full
of cold bad blood
You opened the door
saying I'm rotten
don't come back
here anymore
oh , oh yeah . . .

Well the sun will shine
after the rain comes down
Even though you have to walk around
on the muddy ground
You put your faith in the hands that bind
Like a stumbling fool you were  completly blind
oh yeah . . .

Well the whales will leap coming crashing down
I waited around as they lowered you down
I thought sure the storms would finally come
Nothing but the tears were left after it was all said and done
oh , oh yeah

Well the whales will leap
coming crashing down
I shed a tear while they put you in the ground
oh yeah . . .

My vegetating speal
Stalks the furrows
And the stems of
Leafy green matter
Inside my head
Deep rooted bi-verbation
Makes carrot tops dance
In ****** release
Spuddering on calauiflower ears

I pulled into Jericho
Eyes looking all around
I began to stammer
Looking at the ground

Crazy Chester grinned
at his infirmity
Said it was only
a simple disability

No one smiled
a simple hello
I could tell no one
liked jello

The sun burned east
in the least
The nights were all
uneasy midst the feast

I stepped on the dust
of Joshua's ghost
But where was the best of Moses's boast

So end the words
elected to be
Done now for there
are no more words
. . . to see .

You always wore
your face of frowns
Like a Queen possesses
all her crowns

The mornings found you
so depleted
All your will
had been defeated

You paid your dues
for cost analysis
They held the cup
for urinalysis

It's all there in
the black on white
Carved in skin
so pink and tight

You find
you're found
Roped , gagged
and bound

Estranged from
the freedom of life
Entangled
with all it's strife

And as , at last
the evening calls
Before the ghosts
stroll the halls

You prepare with such anticipation
For another night's
exhilaration

We fell into bed on an instance
No need for introductions
We left all of those behind
In the bar of inconveniences

As we fumbled in the words
"My place or yours ."
She reached into a pocket
Lined in purple satin promises
And handed me her keys

Your silence is deafening
to my commotion

Silent soft kisses turn
into suffocating hugs
that break the bones of
my desperation

And when all has been crushed
you turn head first
and swallow all my dreams in
anticipation

sunny days are for digestion

Quatum Parker was a native American math **** . Born in the Blackboard Mountains of Oklahoma to Boris and Annika Schvartsberg who were pre-holocaust survivors who migrated to the U.S. prior to the infamous invasion of  fire ants in 1918 . At an early age Quantum
showed a proclivity at dealing with numbers which he picked up by watching Crows count in a mysterious beek and claw adaptation of the hood system of physically applied pressure points . Or as it is known today
as the fast break and dump system . Unfortunately Quantum had the misfortune one day of running into Little Bear legally coming down the mountain which so startled him he slipped and fell to his death . But we can all thank Quantum for leaving us a legacy of calculus of how many bounces it takes to **** a number .

Man asks questions
Therefore he thinks that he exists

No other animal asks questions
Therefore they do not exist

Existence is the question
That no one has the answer to .

God gave us the ability to ask questions
Let's not question our ability to answer too .

From the cradle
to the grave
We line up
To be enslaved

From the cradle
to the grave
we line up
to be enslaved !

I race upon the edge of life

Days once dull now
sliced so fast

The partitioning skin opens up

Draining life's essence
into a cup

So dice another second
off

dare I turn to mourn or scoff ?

Another hour or a day

Do my words matter anyway ?

Step off
teleportation's dock

Who keeps candles hidden in a near by box ?

Forget the matches
that can't catch spark

Steps the mystery  of the unknowingly dark

When I was young
I was as wild as ****

A Goldenrod intrusively
A ragweed in desires

Wherever I went
I left discontent

The soil was sandy
The soul's roots lacking

I was tumbleweed tuff
Twisted as mesquite

Learned about thirst
How to take the heat

Unattached to the land
Bowing to the wind

scattering of the seeds
I was left to fend

When it rains everything gets wet in the moment making puddles of memories that shrink in the heat of life

I look outside my window
To the streets below
A cold rain is falling softly
Making slush from frozen snow

As the waters flow on by
In the cold outside my door
I sit alone in silence with a soul
That's empty to to the core

The only thing that's moving
Is the water from the rain
The coldest tears are from the years
Filled with useless pain

I wonder now while I converse
With the Devils in my head
I hear their accolades of praise
Telling me to go ahead

As melting snow turns to drops
The rivulets become rivers of rage
The flow will eventually stop
When the words run off the page

Still my eyes see no reason
That makes it all implied
You get angry and shout it out
As the memories refuse to die

And you curse the sordid mess
That just won't stay away
So you load the chamber of the gun
With the bullet you bought today

You spin the cylinder of the gun
And put the barrel
To the temple
Of your head

But your too chicken
To pull the trigger
Putting another possibility
In instead

I come to paint rainbows
upon your heart of
depression . . .

To turn your lips into emerald coast isles

Where light bleaches away the dark
and purifies the sand between your souls

Let me caress new feathers
of flight
that provides the freedom to soar in the winds from
distant shores

Where every breath is
a possibility of dreams come true

Bright yellows and greens
Orange and teals
As you walk the edge
between red and blue
and bleed royal purple
for those to see
who always weighed
their anchors of doubt
in your sea of despair

Don't look back
The door softly closes
on the opportunities
while we are distracted
looking through the windows of our dreams

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

Ran out of hugs
Ran out of kisses
Ran out of loving

That's
the way it always goes
I am just led to superimpose

There is a way
that the sun
glows gold

There is a cup
that will overflow

There is a good moon
rising
just before the dawn

An owl that
doesn't give a Hoot
out on the lawn

A broken heart that
no amount of kintsugi
and gold
will fill the canyons
of cracks and
eliminate the epicanthic soul
.
epicanthic - a prolongation of the upper eyelid that partially blocks the inner corner eyesight .

There was dirt and dried blood
on the face of the child
Round innocent eyes
looking back
I wiped away what I could
The child too frightened to cry
left holding the remnants
of her knickknacks
Now alone on her own
most likely at the
solemn age of four
I wanted to take her home
but the war rages on

The refugees along with the girl
are loaded on the back of the truck
Joe said there's no way in Hell
they'd make it to where they had to go.
"**** ." I muttered under my breath
"How I hate this ******* war ."
"Come on and eat ," said Joe "it may be the last time you know ."

All the rats have abandoned ship

The mice are all that remain

The pleas of the poets
for sanctuary have all gone unclaimed

The danger was Titanic
The path clogged by  bergs

The hull was breeched
and icy words pour in

Soon the stacks of stanzas
will slip beneath the reasons

and litter the floor with what was and is and certainly its end .

When I find myself reaching back
Willing to taste the yesterdays
When all was good
And all the bad I now wear as a badge
For all that made me glad
I now reflect feeling sad

. . . standing in front of a picture window of a house in the nineteen fifties , watching life flash on by , 57 , 60 , 64 , 68 , 70 , 74 , 80 , 88 , 93 , 01, 08 , 15 . . .

all the unanswered questions
the feelings that I never belonged
like I am from somewhere else
another universe , somewhere gone

I'm ever reaching up
For what I cannot touch

Waiting for the seas of reasoning
To reach the beaches of understanding

I'm ever raising my voices
Asking about the consequences of my choices

Seeking a positive direction
The words I see and their interpretations

I'm always on a limited scale
Not to be unbalanced or I will fail

Not to stumble over in the dark
From the mistakes when I missed the mark

I will keep reaching up
Though I keep missing the cup

For I know when comes the day
It will be handed to me and told to come in and stay

When I was small
   and I knew it all

When life was fast
   and nowhere to go

I just see myself looking back
   through the rear view mirror

And : When "Then" turned into "Now"
And : I'm not so sure about anything now
And : I want life to slow down
And : Last , taking forever to get here

   It was fear looking back
   In the rear view mirror

1971
when I was 21
unfulfilled dreams
were bred , then bled out over time
time drips by the second
from the icicles of my sorrow

the winds out of Africa
bring rain and destruction
to my Gulf of Mexico sound

blue . . . covers the canvas
with dark reds , and space to fill
the brushes are stiff from
impropper cleaning

58 days till next year . . . 1972

California is calling me . . .
but I don't want to go
the grass is bluer at home
the grass has red canvass strokes
from such useless sacrifice

The iodine of lapsed desires
The sting clinches my strength
The cold claws at my fire
Stealing my gleameth

You walk on by to war
Now I wish you would reappear
But the notes are black on the red eyes of Mars . . .
year after year

I put the fast brake to the
relationship
Revved up the fuel injected
cylinders
Sent backfires of unspent fuel out the tailpipe
The angst of my engines just waiting for the red light of her hair to turn to green

I lay upon the tranquility
beneath the stars
Wondering at the wonder
that made us who we are
The water's are black
but warm around me
I float like the ripples
of the surrounding sea .
There is a silence
that I long to know well
Somehow it's alluded me
All I can say is oh well
Eventually I wash up
onto the shore
I crawl up
like my ancestors before
I sit on the dunes
the sands of my time
That once were great moutains
made out of granite and lime
But before all of this was
Before even the wetness of sea
Even before there were
the great mountains that be
Farther back than
than any memories
I wonder where is the point
from where did I depart
to make my journey's home
to find a new start

The black flickered with shades of white
As people were moving to and fro
How many have gone to ghost
As I was at a loss to know

Such a pretty face on that lovely one
What a straight framed man of youth
What has life left of them
I didn't really want to know the truth

Even the bridge that spans the sea
The thunderstorm so far away
Nor the reality that's meant to be
As frame by frame who's now to say

My footsteps fall softly on sixteenth street
Searching for the sprites of the past
I find only the wisps of memories stirred

I carry a sadness of golden flame
Cured in perfectioned pain
A pain that comforts my soul

I found the porch swing
But it no longer sings of
Dazzling lights in night

The sun harshly criticizes the age
Of this memory going down
Scorching into a white colorless litany

Where are the soft wet kisses
That burned into the bark of my heart
Proclaiming our love by this deed

Now has forever to be trampled
In the wind's rushed revelations of falling Leaves remembering soft wet kisses