River.


The impetus
               Of being
     Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
    Those standing by
        The mystic roadway :  River

   Blues yet to be brushed
             Or in blush
         from Evenings’ chill / a breathing Canvas,
        Like windows we
      dreamers felt / all mindful
   And chock full O'
              Wonder
         Then ponder
      Yonder—"window breaks"
    Past the wilderness' sleep
                       Bone-heavy wood
                            Umber earth
    Past whoosh and rush of liquid
                Folding on itself like a soundtrack
                    Listen now
      Pedestrian be
                        Mindful of the cautionary whales
                                                   Old Ahab’s yell
                       Obsessions
                          Fears
                            Or loathing.
If one is drowning in one's sleep
         Look wildly
                  widely
                            Blithely
                     Down river  
Or up there beyond finger's point
                               Sidewinder-snake-journeys
       Until sky and below it
All meet
The distance
                      Now only a line
         Coalescing what is beyond
    Our ability to see
Far and away
      Evanescent
             Effervescent
                     Ever after      
                             River. / Life.

Here we are / being / proud
       Free-Spirit-Fluent
       With the rapid rivers, loud—
                     always on the run...
The currents like a child's curiosity,
     How goes it, then?
                   When or why                               Does it end ?
                  Where do we go?              
                                 And like most things beyond just existing
                            Will be lead to the high art /
Love’s deep ocean...
                      Nights full of stars.          
     We wish often and forget to seek
          mind
                    the sublimations/                   driftwood.
      
       So, Let’s then
Begin with a dot . a speck of dusk,
          burst of sunrise
              or dark, starry skylines
                   pieces to masterpiece                                             Raging fragility of waters’
            (Unctuous undulations)
    Folding upon itself in volumes
Or falling from on high
                             A droplet cry.
Then Flash! /of lightning
                  (crash or bloom)
           From the heavens
                        like electric rivers
                                                         So brilliantly Festoons...

Where do we go
                With those under toes
       There and here / underfoot /
       Over north / southern sleep
           to Oceans’ twilight deeps?
Go wrapped or map-less
Or no,
    Up
         Way
               Up yonder
     There Up there
                            Everywhere
                       All without fear...

My heart like the river yearns
             To go toward the sun
                       A flow / afloat
                 the beating drum
Always on the run
And
        Yet
             Still
                    Here.

Like Ahab On Moby ****


Epic… currents from a frozen heart:
tales, obsessions
A wrenching, unfreezing fist
raising sails
Like molten summits of emotions

To know one's own deepnesses
One's own submariner seas
How to breathe in it:
Darker trenches / squalls / the uncharted
Abyss, alien to airy rowan cliffs and breeze
The cold of it lacking breath

Tho' Open sky, song of suns
Warms the flesh of its perception's anchor
Certainties
Tides
Symbiosis

The Brine
From icebergs of inexperience
To thirsts quenched
As Droplets
Borne from glaciers
Dancing ice

Drift
Rinse
Worlds, mine
Like ships in the night
Silhouettes in passing
Upon romancing
Skyline starlit moon
For the shadows since denied
The doubtful fall
These journeys now I choose to suffer,
Thaws all such icy
Fears
In winters' noose
And from loss of strength,
Sojourn hearts
No longer sharing
Meiosis breaths
or sail upon the truth

Accompanied
No one there—
Now singing sirocco
                                     Aye aye captain!
Across the vast places
Frozen with no names
And arctic with none to blame
Map-less voyages of
Nautilus
Ahoy, Sir Loneliness!
Shameless
To Desolation, go—

A life cage,
If mine
Banished
On Tundra of time

Stalactites

This,
My own unfreezing
By simple choice, sublime.
Captain kid again, all mine
Joy the light
Truth my life

My whale of a ride
******
Epic.

HOMILY


After the preaching’s
Done-finished
Picking at the scabs
Of our guilt,
At week's end / day of rest;
Just when we almost had it
Bygone / Forgotten
From our minds
           It's a kinder kin to amnesia
A softer fog of fugue,
A healing art of our brain farts,
Not soaking in shame's
Diminishment,
Or stewing in self-helps.
"Deliver us!"      (bow down genuflect)

But then again
Here we are together to gather
Uncomplainingly
Complacently listening
Absorbing every lash
Of the metaphorical whip,
To be guided back to good
Such sermons for the flawed
humans that we know
We are -- unworthy...
But willingly we suffer
The word.
Oh how to be just like
The lamb...

So now, afterwards, when we have been
Emotionally & verbally punctured
Full of hollow
We are holes unworthy
Of being
Made whole...
Or so, we've been told
"It is written."

Now then let us meet for
homily
After King James harangues us
His version of fellowship,
Let us have verbal
******* with the word.
(Begotten?)
Perhaps over supping
Or during beer & NFL
Or some blood
Sport
Non-emasculating,
Reminding us how
Weekends roar
And Life is
Worth more
Than the inner wars
We are ourselves
Fighting.

After the sermon,  
Let's have true verbal
*******...
(Without be-getting a shred
Of guilt).

Santino

It would be rude to
Ask his mother (running to market for syringes)
Ask if he was crooked coming out,
A broken bambino, was he?

Haunched Santino and his mother
From their makeshift hut of crates
And unwanted soiled baby blankets
Stab themselves between the toes

While the Asians pass through
In their Lexus's and glittering Samsungs
As indifferent as the heroine
That Santino and his mother buy
(Veins like fingers rivers lightning)

She's sensitive about everything,
Watch what you say...
It seems like love, a son and his enabler
Or vice verses all the world
A rotten oyster.

I dare not ask his mother
Which came first
(The chicken or the egg?)
Was he a crack baby, her good boy, Santino
Or was she?

“Watch your mouth!”— She's yelling
At foodies parking their cars,
With her eyes closed, walking about, lost, lots...

He's a good kid, forever her bambino
I now understand selfishness
How deformed came the world to Santino...

CHi-Raq

A Buster is busted.

Figuratively disfigured (speech)

Mayhap way he speak?

Not just slow

Cuz he got flow

Figured out the Hustle

Keeps on and on and on and...

"In this ****** Life—brothas Broke!"

Sweet Swisher Blunts

Swish and stunted swoosh

Jumping hoops

(For who?)


Busters are Busted.

Vigorously. Voraciously. Hot.  

(Or rock-steady Kool)

And the gangs’

Got their gats & silky

Tommy-guns Polishing

(Head like a hole...)

Our whips.

Our babies.

Our Peeps

The War / The Streets

The Word itself, asleep...

Sweet Tea at the ready!

They're thirsty in

CHi-Raq.

ICARUS KUSH


Get on with your Bad self

Go on with your Hustle

Into the bustle

And the gristle

Bristly

Frisky

Grizzly world...

Go 'head find and get that paper

Let your greenback wings unfurl

Telling you who to be

Made

So dapper...

Go Rise above

But still only talking

'Bout what don't matter,

The Unfathomable

Kind of Love.

Still wrapping

The turkey in a noose

Letting bullets loose

For hundred dollar shoes

Shoes!

Shoot sure 'nuf!

Time to wake up / this close to the Sun

Waxin' & Flossin'

Ill prepared to Rise above

Pretending to exude

The same kind

Of Love...

You

Go'ne now...

You Dawg you - A "g"

N-word y'heard in Everythang

We trust

Go'ne muss it up!

I just must know

(My boo)

Didn't you?

Give the World

This Life

Much Love?

Fire in the sky... Fallen

Too high

At dusk.

Gone to fly into the eye...

(Kush)

Photograph

At times I need to glance at this.
When you’ve gone, I'll think fondly of
all the summers in your smile,
you’re just so beautiful here.

And now as I look ahead
at the times I'll again need
to rout the insufficient days without you
my eyes will fall on this

Thoughtfulness
fraying at the edges.
An old glossy paper memory
kept perfect, still —your smile,
that's mine. I’ll hold it near & dear

with me.
without you…

ALIEN


New
To this plasticity,

Grey matter in a nimbus
Mind as infinitely hollow as
A galaxy or dungeon deep dream
Lost to the starlight oblivion

Of distances we place
In the familiar / fealty and touch

Our human gravity,
Spirit and superstitious will
Heavy by testaments and old teachings still.

Yet war has long been our
Problem-child
And like the parents that we are

With these days, digital,
We are unwilling to accept its prognosis

Nothing more can be
Poured into a vessel,
Nothing more can be fed into the flame,

If ash and black
Lift into the sky…
It will be alien

To even try to
Resurrect another age.
When there is no warmth or
Use for light
It’s a world unbecoming

alien…

Stay kind, wise old man.
Age is the nature of change,
Turning of one's page.

GLACIERS (acrostic)

Going Green all year round
Leads to strikes, tree-huggers who loudly shout,
As road raging Cadillac runneth them over.
Cold winter melts as fishermen over plunder.
In our human chapters of hubristic excuses,
Earth fracked, death by corporate Amusement.
Races all face mother nature storming in,
Slow still drowns with the Hare--better learn how to swim.

FREE BURMA!

They cry turmoil thru my web-pages,
pages on pages of Tribunes and Suns and Times
and Quarterly

"Free Burma!"

it's all turkey and pig-latin to me,
just "dunno!"  like a dunce-capped miscreant,
inept ignorance

A kid
i wasn’t so great at geography then,
i got by before junior high.
Where-the-tarnished-nation is it?

"Free Burma!"

Notice the elephant in the room?
like a whale named *****
attempting to escape barricades
brothers of all of ours
engulfed in war
some ocean somewhere someone is dying;
notice that elephant in our laptops
ivory and blue-tooth and i phones
telling me, showing us
to care
i do / want to
we should and we must
yes

"Free Burma!"

will i need to donate a dollar,
two, three? will i receive
a correspondence
of a child i am saving
a face of a country
i'm ignorant to...
           will it's big sad puppy eyes be
commercialized?

i am no less as educated for not
following the strife of thousands
   my own is as heavy here as an orca's leap

"Free Burma!"

what cage, bear or mouse trap
have they gotten themselves
and ourselves into?
if it's anything like Yayo or Martha
business
i have a better "good thing" to do

but if it is
like famines in Africa,
Mendelson, or Tibetan Monks
on strike with kung-fu skills
i will join U2,
(and if she's aware) with Oprah power
activate!
(fist to fist)
"i will be a well of spring-water!"
and she a holy cow, a worshipped saint

"Free Burma!!"

free water
free of fear
free everyone, i pray,
under this sky
wipe away all tears

free you of your worries
free of all chains
free of mines
free of lies and borderlines.

Free to be
together
free to live and choose to see

A planet a place
A peace

"Free Burma!"

Freedom
as one
community.

For you, for me.
Home.
Free...

Machina that prey
Overpopulation's Game
Consuming the world.

We are closer to
Our souls than our dreams,
Our hearts than our logic,
If you're trying to reach heaven
Begin by finding inner peace
Find you in loving me...
Suffer your humanity
The illusions of/are  Free
all strangers lie and grieve.

Disharmony.

World Peace Now!

In lovely solemn
Bird cage, song birds brightly plumed:
Gems on ring fingers.

RED HOT RELIGION

He has this . . . Hunger like
Hurricane Hips interpreting endangered
wanton meanings of lustful touch
Starving eyes wanting

He has this . . Culpable shame
that’s  relative to the Red-Hot Religions
of sailors, muscled maritimes
showers of spit and ****
storms of guy-gravy
and then the little girl inside,
that darling damnation,
leaves him to those parched eyes

The panther's eager lips
that somehow rescues him sexually
With cold reptilian offerings
spires and skies which takes him home

away & aware he’s one of them:
chestnuts from china
The Buffalo’s bride
Lost in one salted heavenly hell

He has that . . . Craving,
A ***** for Jackal-harsh joys
but the lipstick love of sinful men
like magnets to his mad blindness
its ***** and biohazard truths
Still resounds in the black poetry
A stain of empty pews

Hearts
designed by desires over
Sins & desperations both
an epic dirge, some think
which will later play in a temple
That will sink darkly, singing
a Red-Hot  requiem reckoning

for all who are
Drowning in lust
and the god-awful truth
Of being lost  
Never having even begun
To know love
Not cross…

Youth around the "Loop"
In flaming Hot-Pink boa.
Daisy Duke at Pride.

Separate not Equals.
"If you're talking, you're breathing"
Under Chauvin's knee.

COITUS


We dapple our kiss
hot with white Zinfandel,

and like the blind groping for
doors, you open me.

Longing for more warmth,
one hearth we coalesce.

FOR EVENINGS

E is for the Evenings I fall into your Eyes,
Every kiss and Embrace,
Each breath exchanged, I recall your taste.

E is for the Elegance of the echo
Of your touch, the embodiment of an ache,

E is for the Eloquence of that hush,
every dream I wish to wake,
Or love to finally make...

AT REST



[PLOT:
          on the green / on Cemetery Row]

A stroll
through Carthage stones.:

Gargoyles in grey gloamings
of Autumns
of Winters
of the remains of days
the done-buried
keep secret in rigor mortis  
kiss

the grave
pushing up daisies, the cherished
our cherubs below tombstones
there lays

green tarmac flights
On crucifix runways

Mausoleums with eyes
of pyramids and storms
houses the ravens watching ghosts
from above just ants below,
beneath undulating cotton lakes

Upon the soil and worms and
souls
           mausoleums...

As granite angels mime
upward in prayer
waiting in the weight of the lifeless
wake
    white marbled expressions

The consternation
    of devil may care

None for statues or with halos
the captured hearts in boxes,
coffins / the inmates /
                                Americana gothic gallows

Caustic the silences secretly speak
Life once stories of beams of light
Such vibrant lives afire
(now mere half paragraphs)
in respite /
In unforgiven mires

[On a plot of green
in cemetery row...]

Gargoyles in the mist
these arrested flights

of wish dismissed
of effulgence in life

through the spindle of an hourglass
spider-webs of fog

where I share my path
Here the haunted besides (roaming)
a land of quietude
                 futures devoid yet still turning
The cyclic times
The unlearned
The dreaded cold below
[On a plot of green, Cemetery row...]

Rest will happen
but my spirit is a phoenix

Great flocks of birds
Asphodels

Whilst
taking a stroll...
Past plots of green,
        In cemetery row
How such silences scream :
         the fallen :
death's blanket of snow.

[Carnage. &. Stone.]

THE PROFUNDITY OF SHEEP

I will follow you
and call it love
to the edge and to the ends
of our earthly bed
by your pipers' song
trusting your will with my blindness
because I do not fear
your Love.

Teach me and lead as a shepherd would
my own wisdom bleats
no depth nor words worth hearing
since speech
Belittles the lesson
and removes much meaning

Of the gifts that Love gave.

Pull me forward and away
to awe instead of weep
the heavens in your embrace
where there is no place for doubt
no panic but for the grave…

I trust that I must matter
even as a speck of dust
you carry me through winter
to rainbows
reminding me that

All is Love.

Even as I wallow in the hollows
of no self worth
you mean to me as I'm meant to be
since time was given birth
the golden truth
the Light of you
Though I'm a speck of dust...
Flooding tears upon the eye
no worry
or boundaries
No bleating cries

There is no Falling
when you, my love, are
my every sky.

At Shady Meadows,
Retired senior moments:
Bingo & crosswords.

What’s it now?
You asking?
Use your visual words
What’s that now? Define it
How’s it go —you whining?
Say Cheese!
The visual words not spoken
But scenes you're seen as seemingly broken,
Words that are photogenic, memes not to read
But feel, how mean,
Oceans waves, swells...
Do say it,
digitally tell,
Misspelled with emoji
Have a nice day!
(Wink)
#Giggling in tweeter feeds
Are you Well Liked?
(Have a good following… )

How do we visualize
A word or a scoff ?
Visually seen feelings
Don’t speak but when spoken to,
Knee deep it will be,
Feel me?

What’s it now you’re asking?
Guess we’ll see… oh say…
Can you?
Giggle at Twitter feeds?
# Hehehe.
# The Bird.
#FU hullabaloo. Ciao.

Great loud words from The Word: Hatemonger's propaganda/ masses conditioned at Sunday mass: Faith weaponized./

Siren song: Sheppard: gathers his "flock" for worship: overacting full of words./
False prophets' speaking/ in tongues for Heaven?/

Filthy rich with sin: master of the mansion / on his plantation, ***** down south/ molesting innocents devout./ His money on his mind, he's full of _ words./

Televangelist on HD-4K smart TV, now wide reaching, the preaching, most have bought into   it. Cost? Hollocaust of doubt and lost minds.
Faith now weaponized.../

(Evangelist)

Spring break, Mexico.
Humid nights and "Shots-shots-shots!"
Black eyed Girl gone Wild

Dear old retired dad
As much as I remember him
Demons all (he mostly drinks)
Indentured to the beer
Chasing silver spoon and hippy moons
And Russian bride and friends.
The sound of  defiant silence,
In eyes of a boy who saw you then
On the subject of dedication
Need a bit of re-edifcation.

Something which stimulates.
The Governmental Giveaway!
It's a free-for-all
Masticates into cancerous fraud,
United States for criminals.
Lady Luck is a thieving ****,
Uber suburbanites,
Stylish Vibrators.

Preacher teaches ire.
Parents reprimand and scold.
Small hands on fire.

Rain and loved ones' tears,
Black umbrellas encircling
Corpse in a coffin.

Their shuddering sobs,
Collapsing to genuflect:
Earthquakes of heartbreak.

Pet cemeteries,
Sunsets, lei upon the waves,
Float on to Elsewhere.

Boat engulfed in flames,
While on shore, drenched in sadness,
Slick black umbrellas.

A mosaic of broken colored glass
Repurposed in to a High Art
Against the brilliance of the sun
Stained glass skeins color the pews
Without doubt made anew
Alive ain't broken.

(We're Mosaic... as it were.)

That one's love were not real
To have dark doubts hide it.
That life, be it as unreal as--
Nowadays must run & fight for it.

(...as it were).

MmmMoan.
Y a w n.
Purrr...
How I adore our meanderings.

A Morning of misfits

Love waking to the sturdy fur of you,

Sac, pecks, abs, inner thighs,
unclad body heat.

Tho' the world outside feels absent,
your hardness
your warm breath
Is present
Against yesterday's 5-o'clock
shadow.

We breakfast on such sensations satin
thousand count threads
sifting and gripping sheets
creating silken
dunes of flesh creamy hues
soft mounds our twist
tied
tethered limbs
then opening passages with kisses
and humid licks
our lips:
camelback & cobra songs
to Sahara
Heatwaves
where we worship obelisks
until slumber
has rendered us
stardust and sphinx
Amused and fused our flesh
in hymns
this Sunday morning

I am
Stretching with both my hands
behind me
Clawing
buttocks raised (waiting for rain)
as if to be seen & named
one creative breath
Sunday's schooling shame,
yearning for his embrace...

Heaven forgive me
for the heaven he gives me...
Now
Exhale Olympus
Our Fallen pillars
hush.
Good morning, Love
I am

Stretching.
Eyes open wide
Stretching
Reaching out
Behind me
Reaching out for you
(Inside me)
if only briefly
knowing
the whole **** Truth…

(How I adore the meandering.)

Lives through many doors,
Fill the rooms with memories.
Answer every knock

If Life were a room,
then Death is the door we face.
Fear will paint it black.

One room to what's Next;
Leaving it all behind you.
For in death, New life.

Like walking on through
The door's a tunnel of light
Feels like coming Home.

(Rooms & Doors)

April Fools shower in the rain.

The wind is howling again outside, clearing the early evening sky of clouds,
(as the curtains open...)
Exposing a drowsy eye of Crescent Moon,
A bright chesire smile on the backdrop of colbalt blue.

It's early yet for Stars, deepening to navy coal dark, a bleeding of midnight and ebony, darkness like an invisible cloak
Showing more of the heavens in the darkest of nights. And the later I stay to stargaze, upon the face so infinite her beauty--a universe enlightening in Love,
Brightening All of the Above.

The winds' howls lessen as though looking up with mine eyes wide with awe.
My very being astounded, to even have this moment to witness be--i'm dumbfounded
Overcome with such Peace.
The Love of God in me .

But while I'm here now, I'd love to dance in this rain, and sing away all troubling pain, like how caged birds must do. Perhaps that's why we sing...

***** money talks
Loud to those who covet "things"
For Bling, for Swagger.

Akward Me upon my knees
Worshipping that ****
Watching minute hands
Upon the old clock
Feeding on Freedom
Left behind.

If I'm to be made into a prisoner of my own life,
I will light up if I so choose,
Feeding on freedoms while
Left behind.

A Big ****!?  Is that all you have to offer? Why not Respect.
Respect the Lil Flowers upon your field,
Respect your moms
Your goiles
Pops the ****
With the most toys
It's more than a name
You'll make for yourself
You carry with you
A Legacy of
Through Harrowing times
Life's vitriol issues
Respect the words you own
Choose truth
For behavior is becoming
Unbelievable
You got what now?!
Big Diction.

It was ninety one degrees this April Third,
Having walked for two hours in the sun,
I was dying of thirst, So
I first went inside a
Green Valley Grocer, the clerk pointed to a sink at the back,
Playing with his bangs
He did not have a cup to offer, “nor do I care”
I shook my head, I stomped away,
Water water
So close yet so far...
I barely could swallow that’s how dry
I was hurrying across the boulevard to 7-11
Surely there my thirst will be quenched,
“Oh thank heavens,” as open door dings a bell.
I struggled to even ask the woman
at the counter.  
I felt my throat closing
May I have a cup, a drink of water??
“Are you gambling? Can’t have a courtesy cup without gambling.”
I says Seriously?
Then I went and there
I knocked upon an old neighbor’s door,
myself parched beyond Death Valley.
She answered, having her phone to her ear, as I politely asked apologetically—for some water, in pantomime.
Without hesitation she returned with a chilled bottle for me.
Ahh, Thank goodness for non strangers,
old neighbors, who see you, not looking through you or past you, unconcerned judgementalists. I have died of thirst
Thank you old Ms. Neighbor for the drank.
You’re the first sign of a good Spring…
(since COVID. Dig?)

Tattoo of a tear.
****** in a low Beamer,
cool-kissing his Glock.

He nurses ailments
An aging Lola, keeping
Faith & Family,

Tribe of children &
Too young a Man of the House,
No crying alone.

Best meal is breakfast
He pours milk for their cereal,
Then walks them to school,

Senor Mother Goose,
A daisy chain of ducklings,
Nurses their ailments.

Breathing hard,
we swam in the ocean of one skin
bodies hot,
flushed with sweat,
then you fall  beside me
feigning to be tired.

I close my eyes then
and think about twilight on this beach,
if it will be you or the moon
walking alongside me, there
within the decrepitudes
of a waning one-night
stands your inconsequential
manhood...

As our Friday Late Night breathing
slows to a silence of sad regret,
you get up to towel down, while
I allow your power to dry on me.
Then you came and wiped away our ***,
kissing each spot where you had landed
yet you never consider
my lips...

Let's pretend I can read your mind.

What unkind words would you not say,
whose name would you hide?

What places would you flee, in dismay,
or wish to Caribbean cruise to?

If I could hear your love,
what would it tell me
that I do not already know?
What kind of fantasies would whisper?
Will your fears be softly moaned,
or scream loudly to be let go?

Let's pretend you knew I could
hear deeper all your silences,

how many flatteries, there, would echo
like broken vinyl,
a skipping heartbeat, a flat tire...on the road…

Would you still lie, if you knew- that I knew,
still believe in them?
Still make me believe you good?
(never telling the truth)

Let's say you could
hear my thoughts... my inner worth...

Would you condemn me and herald my secrets?
Command me for your work
make me a lackey
or say I'm crazy
to everybody—a nobody...?

If you could see inside me
or feel my worst hurts,
would you understand \why and how
my heart should burst?

And of course, this is all make believe,
imagination at it's height,
but true life is another sort
of his and her stories….

from our minds' eyes
to witness
to be told:be realized.
And every tale has once come true:
man now
flying, cloning,
in rockets to the moon,

I'm sure my fiction will be
written soon, if not already
In that book...

what kind of mood
"He" must of had when craving
King & Koontz
the idea of me...
(and "god" knows who)
scratching chin
his beard of white
in a bowl of crocodile tears,

playing pretend,
and silent night
with our living years...

On a crowded bus,
Everyone stares at smartphones.
Strangers and their masks.

If war has begun
Dark molasses on white tongues
Deeper lashes of city’s woes
Harsher graphics showing their junk
The weapon is the tongue
Wars have done begun
Because the Word is Love.
Dark molasses sweetened tongues.
Overlords and goats...

Thin and mild mannered
tattoo novice ink
inarticulate
drawings of ***** boy *****
gnarly scabs / a missing tooth
walking dead in flip flops

pain clawing his expression
all loss in its translation and

Need is loud - a vagrant shout
but I have no money to give...

Young man, in his wife beater tank,
smears of dirt
his wastrel work
crawling through the black
though this morning's blinding
sobriety
forces its friendship on you
                 find a way back...

Young man, here's some breakfast
warm and steady
in the war-time melee of your stomach
empty as the shame
that must be lingering
in your pulse,

here's some shoes and water too
keep cool in this hateful heat
keep on toward home
toward mother's arms
if that's all the choice you got

survive or not.

Here's a moment kindly passing
not a dollar or a hit,
I hope you make it to the next one
and maybe another kindness will be won

in the ripples of this pond
where loss is the stone
you are sinking

below the surface deeply hidden
it's only a matter of realizing,
we are born to swim in it
we're made of creation, creating our own

when you resurface air —be strong and kindly
wash away  dark nights lone chiding

Young man, I see this morning, crying
Once awake to tithe the ties of binding
Learning
You/ are the only one you’re fighting

The human pride kind of life and time
We appear to be casualties
Keeping in mind
when we mindlessly gorge on wish
for something equal
gold and fine…
bright faculties love divine
You cool?
I wish
Young man, "god bless" he says
goodbye
there's nothing
worth it more than Lovin’

The searching for meaning
Who are you
to find/
  be found
in someone else’s loving eyes...?

(No one around . Now.)
Shed some light...

Grass groomed by Vitamin D.
Rude boys wear Tiger’s golf gear, crispy.
Each day we wake replacing “Angry”
Ether & beer for Trees.
No longer in a funk, or drunk, fallen asleep.

The indigent trail of pup tents

Like a pox on the face of infrastructure,

Plastics, acrylic, steel and stone,

Bag ladies & Panhandled husbands

Outside they call it home,


Down alley and the darkened

Beat all walk

Yellow brick roads, skid rows,

Littered with points…


Tossing Bones, reading runes,

It screams nothing good

Becomes

This / Husk of the blinked

The zombie-fied existence

Unliving / the homeless

Dead,

         Still, the heart is where

Loss finds shelter

We are belongings with heavy longing

Fallen

Down the rabbit hole

Down alley and the darkened beat

We’re caught

Wide surprised eyes in headlights,

In the riptides of the streets

So often open

With the heat of its nights

They **** just to smoke...

black crystal joints

W T F

A Graveyard of points.

More torso than legs,
A short strong drink of a man.
Frothy mug of beard