It has taken too many
Years of broken
Beer bottles
Porcelain
Pictures frames on the mantle
And promises to not notice

Mr. Glass is now belching
Mumbling songs off-key
In the kitchen
By the sink
From the fridgidaire
To the soundtracks of John Lennon's
Lemonade love songs
Hitchin a ride on Cat's peace train
Or manic for the Beatles
(British Invasion on vinyl)
He has lost his collections
Soaked and ruined
From a flood aboard his battle ship
He reminisces like this
Or as a mud person hippy youth
At Woodstock

Even when tucking himself in
My barely and not legal sized bed
Naked, laying with He-man themed sheets
And grumpy bear
On my pillow, blue...

I wake to find him
Native and fetal
I am too keen to sleepwalk
So I pretend to
Toward the living room couch
Just the right size
For my eleven year old height
I don't mind
But would rather not get soaked
In Mr. Glass' yellow
Miller time dreamscapes
It would be easy
To blame the kid for bed wetting
After every twelve pack
Every couple of hours,
******* in the sinks, slowly
Losing his six pack
And or his composure
To tell tales stories
Even reasons to think ...

Mr. Petty officer (1st class 2nd 3rd)
Has rarely lost his stomach
No stink of *****
Or pools of shrink and scram
Marinated in coors and Budweiser
Weimereiner mountain man
Has his virtues
Or is it a skill?
Mr. Glass keeps it all in
Well
And rocks my sleep
Zeppelin
Half dozing to be fulfilled
I am those nights, nervous
Wreck and awake

Even as he breaks
Down nostalgic in his weeping
My ears become selective
Hugging my pillow
Listening for his fumbling
As he sways and crashes in my room
A clumsy beanstalk
Head in the cloud kingdom
Fe fy fo falling
Down

Well, it's just the broken harp
No golden eggshells
But porcelain mosaics
Beer cans and wishes
Echoes slurring deep in the well
When he snores
I migrate my mind
Away from his hell
I shrug in silence
To its frequent scenes
Yet in the morning
We both slept pretty well
As far as I can tell
From my father figures
Deficiency

All is
So seems
And he means well

Oh well.

I found a stone among the rocks,

The stone was smooth, the rocks were rough

To the touch - a diamond it's not,

But worth more

for it will remind me

The vast volumes of memory's soul

The nativity of life in this skin

Beautiful people of the Sun

These last days of Brightness

The islands

The seabeeeze

Your moments of experiencing

Within

This bubble.

I am living as best I can

We are as we go/get

To become

"Get what you give" with what is given...

I found a stone among the rocks

We choose what hurtful words are hot

Pierce, stab, or cut

Bleeding out

The warmth of hearts

So what remains is

Rage

A sharp, sharp sword

What we say will only hurt

Each other

Silence keeps

This stone as keepsake

malleable touchable realities

In my pocket I named Lucky,

This breath of life

That we all must bury

One Day

And the story

of each a stone

A gem of thoughtful touch...

The lovely memory of

Eloquent words last spoken, not...

In vain.

I kept the stone smooth,

Among the rocks...

Sitting in the rain

Will you shower me

With love

With what words you find

And say ?

Love is a smooth stone

Among the rocks...

Reminds me of

Summers' days few

Love lost

Naught...

(With you)

Humming bird feeding

On the teensy flies, clouds of

His integral trees.

Live like you mean it, put some meaning into it, like it means the world...

...Not what you look for,
it's what you find every time
you see / the first time.

He builds a palace
a monument of his vow
to love only her.

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

Like a colony
Of ants--sin city in heat,
Hive of hyper queens.

ONE

     So first and foremost
     "nothing is impossible"
     since once and for all.



TWO

     Love cannot be spelled
     with an "I" nor  g.o.d.
     yet with two it's "gOOd"

Consequence & blame points with a finger of shame & self loathing.

Man's golden lotus.
A wealth of divine wisdom.
Heavenly on Earth.

You know the kind,

Away from the whine

That annoying squeal of indifference

Away from that

Car collisions, the metals crunch your bones,

The manic suckling

Off Mother's back

The suffocation of our own lungs

The pollution of Her consumption

I want to steer away from that

Stung

"Acht tung"

I want moments of reprieve

When no pain is given

When the empty dark is taking

The beauty that should be seen

In every fiber of our being

Bora Bora

Paradise

Where in such love of lovely places

We feel at peace

That perfect reprieve

Moments of a Universe

Believed

The truth revealed

Between you

And within me

Together

Only in my wildest dream

Love .

You are my moments of

Serenity.

“You are an island of reality in an ocean of diarrhea” —Jason Mraz

* *

"Talk to John about your ****."

"Got fired for that ****."

"Got paid to do ****."

"No ****, really"

"Its all the same ****, different day"

" Words are only words, you ain't ****."

" Time to get woke, and get **** done."

"oops, just Sharted"

" You'll pay for that criminal ****, if you didn't know"

"Shiiiit"

" Don't sleep where you shat"

" Don't **** where you eat"

"Quit the **** if it don't help your **** or better your ****"



"Ain't that some messed up ****"."

" **** has hit the fan. "

" Is this **** legal? "

" That's some racist ****. "

" I didn't sign up for this ****. "

" Don't blame your **** on gin & juice. "

" **** is dope. "

" What a **** hole they live in. "

" What kind of **** are you trying to sell now? "

" Call that **** for what it is. "

" You lying *******. "

*
"why not enjoy the Go?"

"It was like getting **** on."

"The **** that comes out of some mouths, i swear..."

"Don't you touch that ****. You get hooked on that ****. "

" At a hundred dollars a plate, that **** better be delicious"

" ****'s better on paper. "

" What's all this **** about? Who did that ****?! "

" This is my ****, get your own ****. "

" Yours smells like everyone else's ****,  it ain't roses. "

" Bury the sticky ****. "

"That **** hurt, but once you're numb you can't feel ****"

What is it ?
                     That has us doing anything
And everything  (for its fix)
For that great Lover
                      Champion proclaiming forever
And more (ever afters and divinity)
Having conquered climbing higher
Summits of the heart
                       Everest stratosphere
Constant high off the rush
Of wet hot hush
Stripping away all logic and reasoning
The intelligence of mind
                        Minding only one / business /
A Linear purpose
To keep a hold so true
Of love
                         Knowing it as absolute
A power that transcends
To cosmic halls above...

But as simple as a passing gaze
Or touch from one last kiss
What is it ?
                     About Love
That has us believing this

Dream of a better realm
Another far away place,
Away from the sufferings of our
Human stains
A wonderful heavenly home
Overcome by serenity's calm
And the loveliest of warm light

What is it ?
That forever survives
And continues its flight?
That Love and the soulful heart
Should have such might?

What is it ? If not peace
When we make it home
And build it good and right...?

*(Namaste)

Survival...
             Owns no manufactuer's manual
on Life, it has no scheme or plot
nor the ability to count cards

it's genius has no shame
does not reflect
              or give pause for consequence
it does not think
about what great lesson it learned

Survival pushes on
with or without a Joker's grin
Or lack of grace...

Survival has no feathers
or Neitzsche beauty to display
                never hides behind a rock
it wears no shade

Survival does not express
fear, relief, or shock
just simple Strength
                with an unreadable
poker-face...

*(Because Death knows nothing of haste,
Nor cares for the human race.)

Survey space office

Headset monitor keyboard

Hello Respondents?

Where all walks begin,
Some are quick to reach the end.
Wise keeps journeying.

Devastations’ deeps:
Such Chaos drowns all petty
Wars, and last concerns.

Palms in polished phrases
Upon your body -- a tour
After we've sweat-spoken
Zip codes of zippers, zoos,
Zones of you

Undulations of flesh
The verve of your nest,
Touch galvanized, meshed,
Every transient kiss
Finding formulation

Sometimes I feel
I am undeserving
This thermal throne,
Your pulsating power
These plush, pleasing hours
Afire

Plus Quam Perfectum
The luminosity of you
That warms me, wizardry,
And when asleep next to you
I am complete, I am new
I am the truth,
With you
                 I worship

Dial tone.

Cell phone or land land telephonic

Ring a ding / fax machine singing

Digital data lines

Most during this time of the day

Lagging behind just enough hours

To have them at dinner

Tucking in the kids

Most during this time of mine

Pacific western sunsets

Around six ish

"It's not a good time"

Most declare, if they dared pick up

But 8 out of over a hundred calls

Succeed

The rest are answering machines

Hanging up

My computer's got your number

Disconnected no longer in use

Learn by repetition

"Can you spare any time?

To answer some questions"

Customer satisfactions

Answering machines never had

The answers for this survey

In front of me

I recite verbatim

To fill the quota

Just need one every thirty

Or oneself to

"Feel"

Opinions opinionate

"Leave something brief after the beep..."

Hello can you hear me?

Are you complete?

These city streets are as particular
As indifferent as lung cancer is to nonsmoking

The patrons of articulate
Asphalt and over populations choking

Civility and truths
Rewritten for only the Perview of the worthy

If you think therefore you can,
And if you art, then for show, speak your mind

We do a disservice to all kind
And to our laws simply Murphy

The life we cannot splice or accept
As imperfect as city traffic

Must we always deny and collide
Solving nothing, consuming blight

Panic if all we know is iron and war
I sense these streets beget the same

Homeless is all thunder and fires scorn
A mighty storm be headed our way...

Most prized possession
Priceless, precious thing, he hoards
*her untouched beauty

Like wide sails that cup
The high winds of this marriage,
I'm at love's mercy...

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.

Poetry IS - Love,
made malleable through the eyes
that behold beauty.
It's Life, and the Love of Life, malleable.
Poetry is to be Touched,
to be moved by
and with love...



09132016

Poetry is
A song of words
A dance of exuberant emotions
A grace
               Full of gracious
(A)         Lover's kiss.

I believe

In love

Yet to truly know love

One must remove

The self

From Oneself,

The selfish

Most likely

Cannot see

Anything else,

And since

Love is a bridge

They cannot

Cross.

Burning

Bridges

To the selfish cost

Of lonely

And loss...

The blind walking

In the dark,

Not knowing

Love

Light

All.

Hopefully not a mystery, mistaken,

Unquestionably unremarkable : your presentation

Miss muse of heavy breathing monologues’

Deeper meanings, thus flesh rises hot.

If into relations

No need or want for explanation.

Greater words now simply lost;

Entrails of vaporous profundities

Respite-sleep below limbs’ entangled quivering

Some sort of worshipping screaming “god!”

Sin City with blinders,
Bird **** on the windshield

A herd of burly men in pastels and summer shorts
A row of parked rental Lamborghinis
Commiserating and taking selfies,
Loudly showing off,
Posting on social media or
Dating Apps
Snapchat snapshots
Hotshots in Sincity with the bling ca-ching!
It's a ****** rental, for christ-sakes!
Where's Dateline's to catch a predator,
What good is a thousand words when the picture is telling lies?
What happened ? In Vegas,
Bright lights' bite, vice, and ****, looks like magic.
Sin city running with blinders.
Birdshit on the windshield.
A dry desert thirsts for rain.
(Empty swag bags....)
****'s all the same.

I have found a means to numb myself
To remove what confounded heart is left

For if what remains of it should break
All meaning in my breath will melt & I pray

Nothing will matter but my rage or hate
...and I suppose what remains of myself

Removed? I fear it is a monster with nothing
Else to prove... A one eyed thing, a furious storm,

Hell bent to return what pain was laid to rest.
No love remains if the only gift left is death...

know you cannot take
something you already have;
love is yours to make.

Soylent Green / by:b.decatoria


These names of prey
In “His Name” they pray
Men name
The products on the shelf
Hot dog / Burgers / mixed
Bacon obits. &
Illegals
Wet backs
We the people / matters
Of lives
Chinks and Blacks
The ***** stacked
The Street Meat
The Addicts
Shopaholics Alcoholic
The names of prey
We, the products,
On the shelf.

An electric wetness tingles at the tips
of toes, pointed as the tips of me
tighten and clench...
     I try to focus on the sensations
my naked self easily distracted - I need
a mental picture to freeze into memory
a snapshot of me getting snatched up
     but I collapse on my back I relinquish
my hopes are high as the rest of my skin
beginning to rise in temperature
ears and face and pool of sweat on my chest
     all I can begin to hold on to
are the bed covers in my grip and feeling
so many feelings in places I did not know
existed, and how it all finally made a splash
     in the end - could not help but let go...
building up some soft inertia of skin in flux
rubbing these flints to spark this fire
that releases like liquid lightning
     and briefly the high feels divine to keep afloat
while I lay quiet to the world--just a ghost
this is the first time -- having felt alive,
"when I grow up I want to be (how it feels now like)"
     "The sky"...

This spells the end for
You, Mr. Midnight caller
Exit stage : daylight.

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)

There's somethin' so familiar

In those far familial brown eyes

An emotion recognized as quite

Quiet and similar and such...

Those familiar acts of making love

Molding mud into a spinning cup

Holding love is not enough

I love you so

To name the night

All faultless stars

In a universe of you.

Inside where such desires cannot hide

Hot as the sun--Our love

You let me be your fire

No promises of forever

Before and After.

Until forever ends...

*Never.

Were you but my familiar, charmed
A chain and cross for the Quietist
Oh Love, we will not suffer such

Were you a kept vigil, an owl in the barn?
Must keep the Peace, it don't take much
They may praise such New age heretics

Old words we feel familiar warmth,
Loving fewer Still we furious familists.

When we were the "Little Ones"

Adored

Trying to figure out the world

It's contradictions

I'm sure we all were

Gaga goo goo

Observing and mimicking

Developing

Eyes

How to see the reality

In front of us and how to

Look,

To find what pulls us

Forward seeking

Passions of Existence

To find One/self     to belong...

In the experience that is

Symbiotic

Shapes a whole of a world

As its people-folk-kindred

Family and meaning

Be Purposeful

The Quests are placed before us

Implored by life to explore,

Grab it by the horns

And dream big

All the s'more's!

Remembering when I was yay big

I did not think to see

The moments of / by "needing"

To ask those big questions...

Who am I?

(I was a kid then, pulled out of poverty
  The third world minutiae,
  Happy go lucky with happy meals
  Happy childhood)

Why am I here?

(Back in the day I worried mostly
  Disappointing my mother & god
  Got good grades a decent good boy-guy)

What is the purpose of All this?

(Who am I asking all this, why?)

Who do we answer to?

Will looking up fall on bended knee
Shouting at the sky
Answer you?


When in my awakened grown ups

Experience I learn I realized

I was always searching for the Truth

In all of this...

          For true love

                 For  A life as golden

Not with such riches

But the preciousness of births

Hearts that resounds absolute

With Beloved.

Those who rise above it.

April Fools shower in the rain.

Tell me a story about your bag of feelings
The wheeling and dealing
How it pains you, how it drains you
Of your soul —the crime that frames you
Stealing and killing the meaning of life
Tell me about your bag of feelings.
Right…

Lost story of your feelings,
The empty hollow congealing
A shadow without light,
Lies
Dies. (Without Light)
Worthless bag of feelings…
Plight.

I think therefore I know I am.
Without a doubt.

After the preaching is

Done-finished

picking at the scabs

Of our guilt,

At week's end / day of rest;

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 afterwards, when after we've been

Emotionally & verbally punctured

Full of hollow

We are holes unworthy

Of being

Made whole...

Or so, we've been told

"It is written."


So now then let us meet for

homily

After King James harangues us

His version of fellowship,

Let us have verbal

******* with the word.

(Worship)

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 a shred of guilt.)

Always keep your mind,
Your heart, and your eyes
Open.

Clumsy in Mom's heels,
Curious toddler wanders
Clown-faced, smeared in rouge.

Like the tree grown from
Earth below to breadths above,
Be with in, with out...

I will teach you how
to read--not just words or signs;
heartbeats hush of life.

Holiday seasons’ snowy glens
Inside the frosted windows, white.
Bundled in warmth of love so tight.
Evening stars above & on Christmas tree.
Rushing in excitement to unwrap and tear free,
Needful youths for things of worth.
Acts of kindness louder than words.
Lovely, daily winter gifts, sharing the world, hibernal.