Wafs are not for laughs.
Wacs are not for the masses
And yes, I'm on the make for those waves
Just kiddings,
But I'll do the bidding
For a nice pin up
Of miss Navy

Commotion,
the promotion,
then locomotion.
How can they understand the location
of their next vacation
when they feel no feeling of elation
and just experience more constipation.
Proms.
Cremation.
Pronto.
Relations.
The End.
Yes a bitter pill to swallow
but nobody's hollow
it was worth it
to know that.

Suggested topics seem cogent.
Compliments seem in total
Constructive criticisms seem un loco
Insights seem pronto
and there's practically even something about
how I view the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
The gripe about
obscure references to songs
seems chronic, as in, for me, a tonic
and the criticism about
my ****** appetite for my "girlfriends"
references and emphasis on blacks
seem frank
like I'm not a crank.
All in all
I've got to be less abstract,
yes, abstract,
and use a little more, in general, tact,
and be frank,
about how I ran
and how I like to think I'm in
a real think tank.
Mod America
and yeah Erica Jung
as in fun

Ben Johnson whose autograph i got at a
Rodeo in California when I was young
(I believe I've already mentioned that)
Robert Mitchum - he's also a poet
Lex Barker, whose build I admired back
When he was Tarzan,
Rod Cameron who seemed the epitome
Of a cowboy star,
Roy Roger, who seemed spritely ethical,
Marlon Brando mainly because of his acting
Job in On The WaterFront,
Charleton Heston, I thought he was a
Great actor,
Paul Newman - I thought he was a great
Actor too, not just a bunch of pretty boy good
Looks,
Robert Redford _ I like his basic looks as in
For Realness in a nice way
And
Peter Lorre _ he was him that was it,
Just to remember a few.

I'd stub my toe
If you'd blow
The glow
Right out of my flow.

I'd puff and stuff
If you'd bluff
On my Fluff
And leave me gruff.

I'd prpulate
If you'd coagulate
And leave a demilitarized zone
For your horses that roam.

I'd be difficult
If you'd discover that occult
In my tote bag
So my duffel bag wouldn't sag.

In passing
I'd just want a kiss
A not to my sis,
And a chance for us to do the fist.

Don't be like a worm
Make it your ultimate concern
And then you'll relearn
Words to ode to a grecian urn
And tackle
The debacle
In holy Mackerel
By Amos and Andy
And then John Candy
And now
As in pow
And as in an old row
With an old Cow
Bow wow wow!

Regard me.
Don't discard me.
My garb clothe me in
But just let me measure
with a wife
The size of my notebook
And I'll be again at the exit to Altoona.
Now Allentown
I don't know exactly
How to get to it
But I can just offer a urlentine
For every ***** I could love who lives there
As I guess I am now
Yeah the broadway play Hair

Do you like good music
that sweet soul music?
Is it in his kiss?
Is it in his kiss?
Do you wanna know?
Do you wanna know?

One of the westbound #9
I'm leaving on a jet plane
shotguns,
shoot him fo' he run
on the westbound #9 !

Looking in on
Jack the Giant Killer, the movie
and nestling my head right
into your shoulder dear

I arouse you,
I bet,
from time to time
but you arouse me back
such that I want to have you
But to all concerned
a VA psych ward
is not the appropriate place
for a love tryst
in my opinion
but let's let
nature take its course
and anticipate some prolonged
foreplay.

The birds chirp
We end with a lurch
on we to the church
and no more of a search
for glam and glitter
and wondering what is Twitter
Hold my hand.
I cant help it I'm a ham
and got this thing about 'Nam
and Uncle Sam
and being a Yankees fan.
Let me run your ****
but I'm not looking to scratch it.
You'd probably enjoy
giving me a slap
on the back and telling me what is a ******.
Where's the melody?
In that we're both new.
I'll scratch you back
You scratch mine
But a couple of lovebirds
as we hear sounds
that we're in love, natch
From melody de mens to
the story of love
we hear things all right
real things on into the night

Areno
Mellon
Shanon
The firenous
Who's into Saul Berlin
Oh jello
Or a cappella

Tuffet that cheek
with tongue in cheek
but don't ascertain
how rosy your cheeks really are.

Megan, a CNA here at the hospital,
Doesn't go a beggin'
She's got an income plus her new
Husband whom she met out in California
Where she's from, is an engineer.
They've got a dog she referred
To as pug
And they've bought a house
So there's a lot about them to toot.
And I guess the dog is dear
And doesn't bug
Them,
Their for sure friend
They go to the movies,
Out to eat,
And to the local Winery.
Plus they probably know the country seats
By not of the surrounding countries
No small rent.
Also I bet they've got some bounty
From their shopping
And they're a couple that's not
Shocking.
Best of luck
Maybe they'll be some little ones
To tuck in.
I'm sure in life they both will win.

Tall, slim striking brunettes,
Striking redheads,
Short, pect chicks,
Slender, sassy looking blondes
Saucy little redheads with freckles
Especially,
Blondes a Marilyn Monroe,
Handsome blondes like Maria Schell
And Eva Maria Saint,
Portly, kind appearing women,
Shy, introverted, inviting looking sexually,
Intellectual looking, black chicks
Whose looks I like who usually wear
Glasses and "Finally" which who remind
Me of my 2 sisters

Keeping you loyal,
Not letting you boil,
Or worry about toil
Is no foil
For me
But a chance to pay my fees
And set me with this goal
Of feeling glee
And not playing the roll.

Out of your perch in the trees,
Here I've spread a blanket
And I've gotten us a six pack
Of Coke and a king sized bag of chips
Let's enjoy the sand
And make a stand
For glam
Without a sham
For being roven hewn
With our venison
As we fall into each other's arms.
Soon the stars will be out
And we'll fall asleep with my arm
Around you.

All I got was rose petals inside a couple of pages of an old Encyclopedia Britannica book, but it was good enough of a present, from whom I don't know.

I suspect it was from my ex-wife.

Ringo just got a photograph, but I'm sure he treasures it - of me as a little boy, I like to pretend.

Petals, pictures. She loves me, she loves me not.

Yeah, there is a little bit of a flower child in all of us, even me,
and the love generation isn't actually a hate generation in disguise like I suspected.

I don't try to **** people with kindness, think I can **** just with my eyes, heard I was a "tough cookie" with a kind heart (maybe so)
but I don't think some people are such sour apples anymore
and I think that there's basically good in all of us.

By they way, do you ever notice you improve your lot a lot without even noticing it sometimes?

It's like at Christmas when they say "big" or is it "good" things come in small packages.

What should have been
Now I'm certain
You've got AIDS
and have lived for sin
and wonder who you're about to lay
and you probably think I'm gay
because being a Muslim
I don't believe in promiscuity
and am not worried about the
life story of Jimmy Breskin
and wonder just what is gravity
Got to hell
or ill tell
and ring a bell
on how you fell for
me
making me
drown in love's sea

A new col,
the people don't really look
cheap as opposed to CNN
They're there being in the end
and there's not a fool
that doesn't see 'em as unbiased
or that they have a license
to cheat
as in Donald Trump
but I doubt that he does
Seriously.
There's no special sheet
and they repeat
professionally
just enough as needed
for a session.

Look in your eyes (The Chantels)
Close your eyes,
Take a deep breath (Brenda
And The Tabs),
These eyes (The Guess Who, Junior Walker)
Rub over them,
Rough over them.

And tea for too few,
A sea where the moon is blue,
A rustic few
Seeing off
The sunlight
With an ink of blue
Deja Vu.
Norman Soldiers
Relinquish
In order to set out
A picnic dinner
In the basis
Soft camel, the animal
Quick had me a camel cigarette
Enough of nerve endings
That chomp at the bit
I won't smoke
But will soak it
In the ink of blue
For a souvenir

It occupies my time,
Opens up new visits,
Gives me a chance to interact,
Yeah the refreshments.
And a chance to win something,
Gives me a chance to share,
There are funny people,
You can kid around,
There's reminiscing,
Mind twisting,
And it's educational usually.

Trust,
Respect,
Physical compatibility,
Intense passion,
Fascination,
Fondness,
And acceptance.

Snapshot,
Crapsshot,
Of course this one
Has nothing to do with Beth Tapscott
That is, only if you have some gumption
Rack it up
Sack it up
Crack it up
****** it up
Frap it up
But only the lonely
Ah but only the lonely

What inspires me to write poetry-
A disstressed spirit looking for
Culmination
What inspires some people to write
Prose- they see details as a way
To tell a story
Songs- melodies swim around
In some peoples head
Also I write for therapeutic
Reasons which I've already said
In one of my works just like some
People write prose and song for
Therapeutic reasons
Some people write because they
Think they have a message to convey
To their ideal listeners when they
Converse or to convey a
Message to what is known as "people"
I guess they mean open minded every-
Day people
Some people write because they're amused.
Some people write for sentimental
Reasons.
Some people write because
They fell they can see beauty where
The average person can't.
Enough of this
I'm back to square one when it
Come to what inspires people to write
Poetry, prose, and song.

He had a dream as youth, I believe, of
Being a major league baseball pitcher, he
Was telling me and all the while, he
Implied tyhat dreams are delusions as if
All he is, due to that Belief, is some
Cheap Walter Mitty Que, type character, I
Guess, with a real pipe dream in the baseball
Pitcher dream.
I believe he also had a dream, and I don't
Find dreams delusions at all, of a
Utopian society where everyone is moral
And patriotic with little or no health problems
He also dreams, I bet, of coping with his
Intense PTSD which he ultimately suggests
He wants to strip himself of.
Dan The Man and his dreams - he's unique
In the he was obvious good qualities and
this is leading to good quality dreams.

Three tread on tires
Long ago
led me to feel hired
By Paul Longview
Down at the corner candy store.
I know that sound
Off the wall compared to Bob Ryan
But it's telling a long story,
A long story
About how desperate
I have been
And still am
To be holding a job.
Why me you ask
As if the simplest task
For me
Is for real effort
And I'd rather watch TV.
I guess it was my fathers influence
With that tip there's nothing
Like hard work that does the job for me
And just to be employed though, I do not feel like I'm having
A delusion of having a bunch
Of working class gifts. "There put
That in your pipe and smoke it"

My gait
Can wait.
My fate
With a mate.
Can wait too.
I just want a soulmate.
Yea but i know I'm a solitary man
O.k. then yeah solitaire
And solitude
Both
I guess
I'll pass a test,
Don't you fret.

As I typed
I felt I could write
without being trite,
say something right
and light
on a mite
to fight my usual good fight.
Sometimes, the content
is a fusion
without allusion
That's what I'll call it,
not that the purpose of my poetry
is to put down all this **** stuff.
It's typed up by some hippie sage
that doesn't mind my wages
and doesn't act like I've got him locked up in a cage.
Yeah, the typewriter, the printing press
the computer, and the copier
and the printed word, in general, everywhere.

Short, cute chicks
especially turn me on
They seem so dainty
and normal
and I find myself such
a big lamer
that opposites attract.
And they're proud
of what height
they do have
and they have no trouble
keeping spotless
(not that tall people do)
and they seem to dream
up the most adorable
clothes to wear
maybe I'm imagining stuff.
I do prefer the
medium height ones
as an all 'round
package though
But let's hear it fro the girls
let's give the girls a hand

Back to Arizona
the procession goes
no more of a bona
than king stuck in those caves
It just goes to show
everybody has their very own favorite fave

I'm tired of people singling out others as ugly
When we all know beauty is in the eye of the beholder
A so-called ugly chick a male has no right to scold her for "it".
She's bolder.
She wants someone to hold her
and isn't worried about being in anyone's folder
or if the movement she needs is on her shoulder
or if anyone wants to mold her
or if she deals with what anyone told her.
She just feels the fellow makes things colder.
And she worries if whether he's gonna take a gun
and with bullets load her.
She just wants some attention
regardless of whether to look at her is fun
and furthermore she doesn't want to put the guy
in the Brooklyn House of Detention or anything like that
and that's a fact

I just want to be your everything
(By Andy Gibb)
You're my everything (By The
Temptations)
You're my first, my last, my everything
(By Barry White)

Dance, dance, dance,
Let's prance.
Fun, fun, fun
Keep on dancing.
We like to dance,
We like to prance.
Keep on dancing,
Let's dance.

I've got me and myself
I wish I had an I.
Then I could go back
to buying those rep ties
and not worry about T-shirts
as if I care about being in a scene and jeans
and all a hack a hack
and believe in things like the little self.
An ego I have not
but that's just what I've heard
and that this has something to with self-esteem
not a choice for dress of jeans.
Anyway, I'll cast my lot
with in this word
in hoc signo
and get back to the way I was as a teen
and not try always to have lingo.
Time haven't really changed,
According to a close friend
it's the same old, same old,
life's still just a game.
I'd then have things to attend to
and be content to do things I like
to do things I can be bold
and not worry so much that I have
someone to scold
I like Ike and I have what I have.

What's OK, Reactionary?

There's lore to this
just like with sis.
There's more to this
than saying something back as in *****.

I'm talking to all the workers of the world

from my hard boring work experience

sometimes you have to

grit your teeth, sigh, and

go OH WELL at the boredom

and plunge ahead on

the assumption that as

my father said - What

counts is elbow grease

It might have physical

repercussions later in life

like arthritis

but at least you'll

know you did your best

Come away
with me
to the ship that never sails
on Santa Barbara's reef
South of course
of the infamous Santa Maria.
Oh ship
that holds no one
misses no earthly passenger
and lifts up
those one hundred luft balloons
to the eyes
of a Spaniard

Sissys got class.
Some of them are even gasp
and furthermore they know
about the "dudes" who want to
know who there is to lay
Everyone they don't obey
and ***** is such a nebulous term anyway
let the ships fall where they may
I'm as lucky Patterson would say probably a hard-core one
and think I'm a disappointment as a son
Hair on the chest
and being a camel man
most of my life
and an infantry volunteer and a 'Nam volunteer
Stuff like that
it's a big deal
it's hard to tell whether
one is effeminate or not

Yeah 'em sprinkled on our stocking caps
from being in the snow and taking it off
right when you get indoors.
Yeah 'em hitting one's nose out in the snow
and landing on your lips as you
start to speak in the snow.
Yeah 'em drifting by your window
as you enjoy the warmth
of the indoors in wintertime.
Yeah 'em hitting splat on the windshield
of a car you're in in a blizzard -
Yeah 'e, on the black crinkly hair
of a black girlfriend as you playfully
embrace in the snow.
Yeah 'em in the nose and in the
straight silky hair of a white
girlfriend as you playfully greet
each other in the snow or as you say
goodnight at her door while it's still snowing.
Yeah 'em having landed on a dark
overcoat or stadium coat as you
take it off entering the indoors in the winter or
spotted about on say a beige muffler
of yours as you enter a warm room from
a cold winter's night.
Yeah big ones going splat on
your face with a burning sensation
out in the snow
and getting 'em in your eye and
having them burn as you get
caught in a driving snowstorm
or landing in relatively
big splotches as they land
in a snowstorm in the back of your neck.
Yeah 'em melting in the heat
of the indoors.
Yeah flakes -
make you want to get 'dem cakes.

Staunchly, staunchly
Fontleroy, Fontleroy,
as in Little Lord Fontleroy,
and in bored
but see me, feel me, **** me
doesn't cut it
as far as ropes go
and the mystical
rule.
He who lives by the sword
doesn't always die by the sword
anymore, of course
but why invite trouble
or your home will be rubble
and all you'll be able to do is smuggle
Raundry was this
but better dead than red
after I've said my peace
implying the better dead than red business
and me having good looks
I'm dropping both
and joining the people
who want to know
what's it about the group
the All-American Rejects
Reaction comes
without posit traction
I'm ill reaction

Rapture in Muscogee
Perfection down by the courthouse in your hometown
I'm square so bear with me,
as I would wander about
Tiffany's and Company
and how it has to do with Southern Comfort.
Nothing like southern hospitality
and just iced tea with a realistic amount of sugar
and there's nothing wrong with those who devour a ******* for a snack
rather than a kosher roast beef sandwich.
I'm not implying this is a ***-crazed decadent country,
only that I use the excuse of being a square for
a turned on ***** mind sometimes, in my opinion.
Yeah, the movie Splendor in the Grass, though
and the sublimity of the TV show Felicity.
Long live alacrity and profanity, too
and the perfidia
of proclamation general.

Don't it by in it,
Belt a car even especially
Steel does anything but heal
And you'll miss more than a meal
And if it's waves
You might never heal

Hold on.
Don't mess your water.
You do everything for spite
including help your dead father
even though
you feel that's drearily trite.
An empty feeling
I usually have
lacking love
even for my dead father
Empty is an understatement.
A misrepresentation
of an undertaker making a statement.
No program
No musician programs
could twist
my arm
in the name of love
That's how I feel
about what is my lack of zen
about being full of love
like so many other people
I hope I'm wrong
about my lack of zeal
I pray to Allah
I'm wrong!

Come to me
to tell me of the pain
the mistakes here and there
the tears shed therefore,
the resulting love
of "mankind",
the search for something
to console you
even if its just a stray dog,
walk the walk
talk spiritually
and tell me about
the soul you have
when you get that lump
in you throat.
When, love.
That's you
and much, much more.