Living Poets Society - Hello Poetry

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

The Billy Goat barley wine went down like a lead zeppelin
in concrete shoes. Fog crept over the world and words-
were tumbling out of extroverts as the party bedazzled
on the spacious patio, with the forever Christmas lights
and the gas grill and a workhorse keg.

Everybody's darling and
the potheads ponder
in indiscrete pods of
perpetual laughter-
sipping jaeger and pabst
in tribal tattoos.

My mind wanders off
as I lean on a pillar of cedar-
facing a sunset seam that
lay upon the horizon
like a lost dog.

I thought i might listen to my friends from a distance
and glean the hieroglyphics of their posture
to gain a sober understanding
of their shenanigans.

Thereby affording me
a vantage point
with a point
advantage.

But alas, always-
a wallflower in a hammock
doing calculus
with chatter and
variables….

like Everclear in
Pineapple juice
or Colossal *******
like Chad.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

DORMANT IN THE BONES OF THE SUN

When my Karma blew a Satire, I was mocking something as naked as this.
I drank my coffee from a Flea Market mug
with all the panache of-
the happy ******
with none of the manacles
of Self Awareness.

Sleep Being a constant insomnia, where-
barns alongside the road all have faces too feral
for tranquil lamentations. postcard sceptics all.
but they rest in fields
of invisible blood
like Lincoln Logs in a microwave on a
platter of cadaverous
Parthenons.

I lay dormant in the bones of the Sun. Undetected by traditional auguries
As anonymous as an honest word..
As serpentine as right angles in a left-handed Sphere.
Ever keen to be never wicked… but unapproachable by chariot.
Only long walks off short piers need apply.
And oodles of Time
to stop on a dime
by heart.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

IS IT AUTUMN OR AM I LATE?

My apartment has too many candles, so that’s the right amount.
You could sleep through the apocalypse and arise refreshed
and peckish. And you’ll just know where the muffins are.
My terrarium has a name made out of teak and jade.
Several worlds abide where I hang my nocturnals
and I’m lousy with stars in a batch of dark
the size of the Mind.

as I reflect i deflect and wonder where the arrow went, that pestered me.
i speak for the trees like a Lorax on a ******, but with fine penmanship
and quaint masteries. i learn the language of moss
by twilight and beg aeons for an hour
of Clarity… stumbling to Port
as I aright my Ship upon a proper Maelstrom
as viscose as a black diamond
on a candle’s
mind.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

GLASSWOOD

In perfect circles we spoke. No virgins to Ellipse but faithful
to the radius of our doom, like a choir to a Chamber
of Remarkable Silence.
Like a backwards whisper
into a megaphone
lodged in the ear of a deaf god
that gets the gist
but never the urgency.
we slept with flames on the inside.
and bled through walls like a stain
aping Picasso without Wallpaper’s
consent

Emerging from the tundra of music
at the kernel of indefinite stars.
full blown glasswood
from a furnace
with all
eyes.

we sustain our love
by wounding wounds
until they see Us
for who We
are.

This love in
a jar.

As is. So far.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

KEEP YOUR SPARROWS UNDER GLASS

Keep your sparrows under glass
and parody flight with your hairless balloons
tethered to a Blarney Stone.

Look where your eyes have stopped seeing
and believe none of it, for fear
of believing anything at all.
But only if you're willing
To never change.

And Mute is your-
favorite button
to never go
missing.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

And Sometimes W

The metallic Everest plasma of the old Wishing Well
Had an Abe Vigoda aroma with a nostalgic veneer
Of lost roads and upset carts.
The fumes are like gossamer limpets
On your golden soul, in a fitful sleep-
to rival all awakening.
The very air had a door that wept glee
and sang of dark angels brooding over
slabs of pie and squandering sunrise
to fork a tongue.

You are always there,
however the leaving arrives.
You’re like a hat
on a hat
Without too-
wise.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

3 AM PLUS

It’s 3am plus,
and if you listen to the mice,
you may decipher their bedtime tales
and learn a great deal about Owls
and why they hide their
names in bones
to have something
to “WHOO”.

Then you might fall asleep.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

LUCKENBACH

Where the apple trees
tiptoe along the verge of a mad meadow
you can smell the pond dreaming of Daphnia and pigtails.
You can feel the sun like a fire hose of unrelenting conflagration-
on a solar wind with a bruise on it’s cheek by nightfall.
As noble as a snowman stoking a hearth-
by hand, for an orphan selling matchsticks
to a Phoenix.

In the rain.

Sep 2020

Third Eye Candy

To See You, Is Like Someone Lost A Bulldog

to see you is like someone lost a bulldog
and the dark side of the moon, bathing in night
is all the fingers I have to grasp your leash
to tether a star to your ice wolves
and sandstone.

to touch you is like someone lost an odd spark.
and the heart collides with an afternoon,
laden with Hematite and
Doll’s Eyes

All the wrinkles of a rampant peace
besieged afterdark with your knives cool
and your limbs
numb.

To see You is like Someone-
Lost Someone.