Geno Cattouse

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

Do your job....or abdicate
What is good for the goose is........
Fool me once shame on you...fool me twice shame on me..

                                       The truth is liberating.
                                       A lie has no spine... the truth is a biped.
Foolish is a forgiveable.. dishonesty flies in the face of facts.

                                       Ultimatly we are judged by our acts.

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

Song Of Songs 2

As a lily
among
thorns.

So is my beloved
among
women.

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

Vat 69

Hey Baby. Long time no see.
She said leaning out the driver's side
what have you been up to ?
She said.

Hey lover.You have  not changed said Vat 69
You still stay at the same place ?

Gene  baby,why did you never call ?
she asked.

Just been caught up in the flow
said vat 69. The neon lights tranced me as I bent to kiss her upturned face.

Obsession wafted from her frame and carried me back to warm summer nights
of pure urban fairy tales and Grand Marnier. White powder and Vat 69.

Where you headed ? asked Vat 69.
Anywhere you want to take me replied obsession. My head spun.
Faster than Vat 69. But i could not spin back to that special time. New love beckoned.

So I kissed her goodbye and climbed into my ride. Two ships passing on a saturday night.
Oh what might have been. Her eyes filled  to the brim.. my heart turned on a whim.
The engine flowed smoothly
Like Vat 69.

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

Scarlet ribbons

I peeked in and on her bed in gay profusion lying there.
Lovely ribbons,scarlet ribbons,scarlet ribbons for her hair.

Moonbeams pierced the silent night.
polished her brush bronze cheeks. the ghost of a smile
quivered her mouth.slowly her lips parted and she said a name . whispered.
still asleep in a dream.

(please lord let me go ahead when we part. What would my purpose be after)

I knew it just then that to live without her would be my hell and so
I laid awake savoring every minute the rise and fall of her chest.Burning
Burning her into my fiber .Laid quietly beside her .
Cursed my mortality.

Scarlet ribbons,lovely ribbons for her hair.
If I live to be one hundred.I will never know from where
Came those ribbons,scarlet ribbons.Scarlet ribbons for her hair.

Lovely ribbons,scarlet ribbons,Scarlet ribbons for her hair.
I will never know from where.

The first two lines are the words from a song that I would hear on the radio as a boy.Usually at night as I sat on our front porch by the sea. It has haunted me. It still does. Harry Belafonte.

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

Blues like Acacia

Smothered in honeysuckle dripping forgiveness
                  Soft southern symphony rooted deep in mixed tempo.
                              crying and moaning a slow march,a quick step.

Rooted in foreign lingo.
Deep,soft symphony.
Moaning soft forgiveness
                                                                     March a slow step
                                                                     Crying in dripping tempo.
                                                                     Soft southern symphony.

Blues like acacia branches .Rooted in soft honeysuckle .
Blues like acacia branches.Moaning soft forgiveness.
Blues like acacia branches.Mixed southern tempo.
Blues like acacia branches.Rooted in foreign lingo.

Acacia branches.Mixed symphony.
Acacia branches. Crying and moaning.
Acacia branches Soft forgiveness.

Branches.Dripping.
Branches.Moaning.
Branches.Crying.

Blues.Slow
Blues.Rooted
Blues.Crying
Blues.rooted
Blues.deep.
Blues.Soft
Blues.Smothered

Like Acacia Branches.

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

twinkling/inkling

Synaptic explosion.
Unigue and bright..burns and crosses the chasm.
A new existence in the universe.

Like a fistfull of ligtening.

Never to be again.
No rerun. A salmon upsream. A creative anchor. A fitfull dream.

The stream washes both sides of the shore.
Draws inward and onward and downward and more.
Silt and bramble...a preamble

A fistfull of lightening and nothing more.

Geno Cattouse Sep 2013

Poetry as feeling.Poetry as prisoner

know nothing I.
Doth aspire to fly. free and
flap my wings to so be.
But.
Established mountains restrict my view to be.
a soaring eagle.Respectfully I. I..

Give my lunch to the bully/bounder
whom I know not.... fully. Save the powdered wig and knickers. Lard assed *******.

Structure ? constipation.               Has me counting my fingers. As neurons fire.
                                                        Bright and unique. I miss the moment. while counting my toes.
The eye missed the sparrow.
as I navigate the narrows. The beauty or the reef.

I am the unwashed masses.
Of strong aroma and stench
                       Counting tuppence and lice.
At the mercy of mice.
                                                                                         Pythagoras and his ilk traded in parched
calculations.rightfully.

Precision is a thing of beauty.
Spontaneity is freedom. true creation.
Amalgamous.

Nuff respect to the missive and crew.

Had so many children she didn't know what to do.

Kept them in a pumpkin shell.
There she kept them very well.