kites fly, fall, legs run
brothers fly, fall, shadows long
iced strings hang on trees

-cec

A celestial charcoal, steel-blue line of evening, sets
as you, crescent eye, dip with a knowing mystery
over unbounded moss branches holding star buds' nest

this thin twig tree has shed its drifting leaves
and waits upon a midnight's sleep and dream
joyful tears of autumn giving winter bereaves

reaching out crooked fingers into solid night's depth
wanting to hold one more time knotty apotheosis
exploding in super novic streams of Vishnu's breath

-cec

she said it was a ***** Martini
a filmy liquid poured into clear glass
squeeze bottles of Worcestershire, for ******-Mary,
squirted octopus ink into bleeding crushed ice
millions of dancing limes approve
as Vodkas crash to internal shores

she let us smell its fragrance
in the bottle's bottom depths
we drank her beer in ounces
'till a swirling straw bumped ice
there a vision reared it's carnage
with its alcoholic swage

she hovers by her register as the numbers button down
while the room spins after-hours in this other part of town
music plays within this cavern dim where tunes of rue elute
a she and he, to they were friends, days can end in Absolute
from hearth and work's alarm to roam at power's will
uptown/downtown skid row's tribulations till

absorbed in sorrowful rags, tears of strangers
wiped from countertop gouged by time's knife
slices of stories, jokes and anecdotes suspended
on racks above this bar's mirrored memories
hang on entrance door and exit's green light
arriving early after to leave too late

-cec

Eos woke an Argus-eyed iris
to start this day in birdsong
that pierced a sleeping silence
then sang all risings long

Square window panes did brighten
with light's momentum strong
a symphony, wind heightened
in poltergeist chimes which hung

As cool breeze entered gently
to kiss on petal's lip
while wings buzzed intently
took drink of morning's dip

In jumbled greens and pigments
this garden's watercolors glow
in natural dance of prisms
sharp thorns yield up to rose

-cec

waking morning comes home
arising to dawn's dimmer light
where curtained clouds roam
off maritime journey's might

rattles from tail's end of evening
penetrate this dreamer's calm
prompts morning's early weaning
from slumber acres balm

turn these covers open eyed
let soft fantasies vaporize
tuned to moment's assembling blocks
auguring dayspring's destined docks

-cec

Opaque, this darker dream-
Curls smoke like in thought
migrating to wispy seems
seeping, accumulating aught
no exit, zero visibility, fog rock
rolling past and whether foul
Ideas escape into this chimeric night
hungover precipice looking out to see
Land **!, out on open main's might
till morning winds from tempest seas
sail our vessel clear, reef and rock
rolling in crested white, jet black waves
scrolls this lemniscus day's clock
feeling shivering cloud bank gray
as bell peal tolls a breaker's pull

-cec

A solo crow's morning flight spoke
of castaways and solitary nights
on its wing tip hurried flight
and its mid-air broken croak

Recounting storms as eagle talons
wet in feather drenching dreams
cuts and glide through current's seams
drops to land on earthen patterns

Seemed within its bird-brain canon
day's release from hunger's pang
a weary eye on sturm und drang
to covet worm and bolt on cannon

-cec

A little strip of paper-
Each Day is the First
telling of eons and hours
a moment's low pitch beat
stretched through years
to crumble open sweetness
and sun's horizon portals

-cec

pure waves undulate
in waters cling life's ripples
calm condensates all

-cec

Laying within the tallest grass field–
That yellow star's daddy long-legs
grazing with a warm solar breeze
playing shades of hide and seek
into a child's mind, full waxing
waking to an offset world
more than small discovery
that farms in grains of time and space
where ants prepare empire
beetles' carapace form beep their horn
navigating, root bound, primal paths
ignorant of overt oblivions to come
go with candy eyed curiosity
prostrate in solace on an altar of life
waiting to be found

-cec

It's been awhile since pregnant poem
as there was no one here to wear it
just two plane black and white fantasy
vaporized with day's chores and work

Now this is that in counterpoise
in arms embrace and kissing peaks
where clouds blush in morning sun
to wake upon your dawn

Hands that would cradle this heart
know its beat and volcanic weeping
holding even unto bone its love
there keeping pillow-lava whispers near

Then toss regret most play a fool
since evening's close behind
It takes a lifetime rise to heights
exquisitely to climb a starry sky

There moon light visions linger
as though internal fires pour
molten eyes have pierced this soul
to claim its flame and core

-cec

morning sun, glass sliced
spectre colors tinge curtains
autumn's complexion

-cec

joy sung to a rose
passions' herald red revelry
intoxication

-cec

Jupiter is star-like tonight
lumbering in the darkness
throwing its gravity  about
picking on moons and asteroids
while brewing storms and lightning

From afar it seems crystal
sharp, isosceles rays of light
an ornament in the cosmos
fingers point, faces uplifted amazement
in cold clear black silences

Io, knows its tyranny
stretched and pulled for millennia
calderas of lava rage and flow
blood blasts of internal strife
turning in unknown tranquility of space

-cec

We
howled and howl at the moon!
you did not condescend
or turn into a hairy wolf
you talked of life and love
and how to mend steel tendons
How
we will miss you, not eating
withering away like fall leaves
while the sky cries tears of rain
your voice getting faint in the wind
as your presence like mountains loom
Grandpa
we who love you cannot bear
our thoughts are past sad
our hearts are heavy with losing
though you have always born
and reborn us in you

-cec

What are these bones, muscle?
this hairy torso alive with goose bumps
an animal grasp, shattering bone
ripping marionette's sinew and members
smelling of drying blood in day's follow
before diving deep into cave's bowls
there subsiding evening's howling
with monstrous heart, like forest embers,
          smoldering

worries crease and fold over shoulder's look
stone voices echo above, searching
smoke filled eyes blind and mined of light
guttural rumbling beneath their venomous anger
sustained by years of false demagogues
to scratch and pick among the ruined crops
violent brawls over morsels of industrial slop
driven to wield a popular myth of terror
         plots within plots

Nature revolts with amoebic precision
a cubic meter of water's hammer ******
a hurricane of wind, fury and destruction
preceding the padded footfalls of death's
dank breath and suffocating grip
this creature's birth and veracity
against a sea of troubled illusions
will tear realities fabric of flesh
         as pole from pole

-cec

all memory wrapped into petals, stem and leaves
knowing that at one time roots hold it all in concert

now we take these hurts, heart and dried tears
back home to life, and love, composed in rhyming consonants

laying to rest colors, scent and texture's caress
for more subtle shades of winter's promised spring

block stone weighs heavy in worm turned grasses
recollecting winding soil for seeds to pullulating fling

-cec

you asked what triggers the writing ─

lightning crackling across a roiling sky
a black, lumbering cloud bank spitting out seagulls
a meteor unwinding its tail before plunging into a lake
wet forest floors etched by countless pine needles
orb spider webs clinging, bolted bridge cables
high pitched whistles and chirps in singular silence
moss on fields of mountain boulders dripping beneath
a white fox leaping above snow covered burrow

fire engine red lurking down our street, stopping
food stained Styrofoam, pressed into a corner of refuse
wet blanket near a boarded up store front
rumbling jet howling its decent into a siren busy city
blood in a bag, teeth barred, too many scattered feathers
red robin armies raiding a plump red holly
cold rain, rain, rain, old siliconed gutters, ice shattered ***
a flickering porch light spelling out random Morse code

a twig breaks ...

-cec

Haunted by the hunt
not knowing the aim
absent purpose
questions to questions
reduction ad infinitum
solus ("alone") ipse ("self").
a solipsist’s pirouette

Hunting the haunted
knowledge and knowing
resolved intent
books upon book shelf
atomism and Plato
holistic cast nets
finiteo (“complete")

-cec

“Pillars, rampaging lions and boars, horse ****,
what more can one ask of a hero’s wit?
Well, here he sits, waiting for the next temp job!
How much more do I have to pay for a mistake?
I told the wife and kids I was all wound up with Olympic PTSD!
They just happened to wake me in a fit of rage and terror,
and they did not fit into my fit, so they played and paid.
Now it's, Heracles this, Hercules that, and don't forget; bring me golden apples, or tend to the herd in west Jesus or other,
and blah, blah, blah, your so strong ...
maybe you can help the neighbors move a couch out?
My friend Sampson went through similar *******
then his old lady, Delilah, gives him a bad haircut
which sends him into a rage, creating a scene.
I mean, I’ve had to smell the bad breath of monsters,
cut off their heads only to get pennies on the dollar or worse, no compensation except,
‘Good you came in time Herc ...’
I move mountains for folks and get **** from the gods!
What’s more, I get no respect from these young’nes;
they tease all the time that my lion cloak and helmet smell!
I just want to tear some heads off and punch them to pulp!
So, I've been laying low checking out the Amazons
having a nice draft of Soma and planning my next trick.”

-cec

fact check: Hercules did not know Sampson! He made it up!

take this heart as ledger
for it only gave us pain
as though stricken on a stretcher
with a near to death refrain

was it love or was it fancy
was it loneliness on ice
we sought to raise the ante
as we planned to dodge white rice

was it lost among late hours
high above a city view
mining favor from the powers
as our lives were bent askew

busy days within life's traffic
and the nights dystopic frames
when our talks went stenographic
while our feelings missed their aim

take this elevator cardiograming
its sharp peaks and valleys black
forming ridge of road show blaming
as we say goodbye to jack

-cec

grows more every year
birthed it and gave it nourishment
it likes to grow now, wants to grow
it feeds upon past memories
skeletons from previous years' lists
the burnt offerings of cards
in the fireplace
roasted chestnut traditions
in the open flame of hope
wishes for a better better year
while we char our meats black
on Friday instead of fish
or is that good Friday fry
either way the list is listing
as wet weather turns cold as ice
and white is the color on trimmed
red coats and roof tops

-cec

Winter-

Winds howl outside on this house
a frozen dream's stormy wasteland
Inside, an oven door squeals open
warm bread mouth-hums from taste-hand

Spring-

Melting snow rivulets thaw on roof
echos of wet hollow gutter sounds
unfold branches by way of raveled roots
where sparrows tweet-twitch 'bound

Summer-

Pine cones crackle a buttery sun
spilling seeds for silent ant brigades
while cicadas Doppler-rattle day's spun
bees' low bumble pitch in flower glades

Fall-

Dry flush leaves charging over others blown
crunch brittle ******* under boot foot fall
soon to silent rot in squishy mats prone
alone, beneath a thunderous rain squall

In Between-

In quiet dawn and daunting vesper's gloam
creeks and crows, grunts and moans
city screech far from nature's tones
with ear to ground, and round to home

-cec

by Walt Kelly (1913–1973)

The basest ball
   Of all the game
Is one that travels hence,
   O'er our grass and our gloves
      And finely, loves,
         The fence.

"The Jack Acid Society Black Book" by POGO as told to Walt ...

Oh! How beautiful her fair hair–
that these pains now suffer
each groan of this wheel pair
stretch each sinew's spiny puffer

Swift and potent speak in tongue
charmed to have her eat the apple
then lay beside her having sprung
stung, and breach our lady's chapel

**** this manic searing ghost
leave these broken bones and loss
bleeding tears of fable boast
pleading for a nimble dōss


Now upon this lying rack
chains clink and crack this back
Alack, to be found in wormwood's hands
plans, impoverished, crushed by mice-men

Oh! How beautiful her hair
to find oneself in this despair
for having false toad tail
from darkest pits and blacken flair

-cec

but her heroics was tragically 1945
she found herself a martini shy of sane
cats filled her half full cup in a tiny house
with a garden of overgrown raspberries,
creeping violets, dandelion and shotsy-****

one story, split level bungalow blues
smoking cigarettes into chains
with an occasional store stroll
blind doctor visit, and neighborly chat
atop damp earth with subterranean worms

they found her dead in her chair
sitting out her physical existence
stains of her last **** between her fingers
the ash length not having fallen
in respect to her final perfect moment ...

-cec

A star born at the edge of our universe,
gray haired now and older than the Big Bust.
Technology’s Webb has pulled the rug out
sending science math and models stumbling.
Suddenly we are fly falling through space/time, infinities spreading infinitely.
A maul opens wide to swallow all in awe,  
leaving lost sheepish looks on academics.
Most humans living in somnambulant’s dream, naive to the allusions of red shift in gold leaf mirrors, chained Cave dwellers in a daze.
“Everyday, everyday I have the blues ...”
a Milky Way song!

-cec

Death is taking a break here ─
arms of bone folded behind head
it looks comfortable with legs crossed
a smiley face mask would look good to wear
except for the show of ribs, cage like
where a tiny bird flutters, frightened

Dusk leaps in tall shadows
darkness steals away all forms
seeping in one great present void
where sings the sound of a faint warble

cec

"Will you walk into my parlor?, said the Spider to the Fly ..." **
"I want to listen ...I hear you" arachnid's tactic sly
The fly, furious of all the carnage, complained
telling of fallen family and inexperienced friends
now desiccated, wrapped in silken shrouded end

The Spider listened patiently, as spiders often do
and lent its stoic eyes for each escape, maroon
while thoughts of chains, gears and echoed screams
served as mental appetizers to a growing hunger swoon
as wet saliva moments stayed his craven dreams

Soon Fly was shifting silent having said all that it could
hairs upon its body augured danger in this hood
closely watching Spider and knowing of his brood
chose to hover near to exit from this room
so defied this spider's web to seek a greater good

Now this Spider still it waits for unsuspecting game
its nature and demeanor belts a greedy gut and fame
sequestered in its isolated ravages, reprobative mind
as its silken lies trace traps in this ancient worst of times
heed this breeze that frames its doors to unrepentant doom

-cec

glass winds chime, small birds
mandolin, violin play
anticipate spring

-cec

waking the absurd,
stark reality viewing
with moon's eye sockets
shadow formed craters,
in this wilderness of space
and time's relentlessness

detached, this eye's cornea
vision's blur into single thought
mortal being a shadow's shadow

days become hours, hours weeks
morning comes sooner every waking
darkness lays upon itself blanket worn

waking, the alarm clock turned (off)
a ray of light through vinyl blinds
comes, thankfully before another night

-cec

pink, purple, greens, white
fragrances coil eves whisper
Spring wears its perfume

-cec

Don your jaunty hat boy
sing a merry song of chase
"Love abides, or love abides not"
Through hillock and forest greens
legs on strings pulled puppet
this and that way and back

a lilting voice and nettles' *****
flowers' color impressions
etch into retinal rhythm tick
delight running rampant rouge
when lost in streaming gardens
summer's youthful roose et ruse

-cec