There in the corner resting silently the old wooden bench
reclines beneath the billowing sky. Peeled and pale much
the worst for wear.

"A couple of young fellas  down at Kitty Hawk flew like wounded ducks". Did you hear?
That was a humdinger. "Somebody swiped the Mona Lisa right under their noses"
Tick

witness to it all has heard the deepest of dark secrets whether tumbledown in solitude
or passed about in chatter.

"The Titanic went down last week ,What a pity." wasn't that thing impossible to sink"
well I'll see you later The Trolleys are running slow today.

There's  this young upstart playing at the picture show this week. Chaplin I think his name is
Moving pictures,oh what will they think of next.

I got a letter from William fighting in The Somme. Dont know when or if he is coming home.

Nights are cold in the rain. Tick

Bathtub gin.  A little nip every now and then can't be a sin.
The Lucky Lindy is the latest swing.
Tock.

Mickey mouse meet sliced bread.  The birth of a nation
Bring the kids out on Saturday The can play awhile.

Heard That ****** Trotsky got shot. What do you think that  will bring
Guess Adolf bit off more than he could Chew cause  that big air war in
Britain made him tuck tail.
Tick
The greatest generation has come and is all but gone
The park bench sits and awaits the dawn
past Y 2 K and on and on
till today, this very hour
waiting for another story to tell
like a morning flower at sunrise
Beautiful petals and leaves
No one grieves for the passing of time.
The park bench sighs and
Then reclines.

Do you go to service. why?
Maybe someone drags you in for your salvation or some such.

What do you believe. I have long released that process as a constant.
Like anything else on this plane. somebody gotta lose for someone else to gain.
Yes that is a bit wooden.
A bit cynical.

Do you feel the spirit as you enter.
What does that feel like and do you agree with all you hear and see.

What do you believe.Is the person up there speaking to you?
Do you take it all in.Or are you sight seeing. I do.
The backs of peoples heads are like monoliths.

Their faces are like masks. Not all but most.
Doubting Thomas in the pews.

The casket sits on display. It beckons and forbids.
The slow procession to absolution.
The occupant sleeps peacefully.
A shell.
Heaven or Hell.

The solemn drone. The Joyous noise.
The shrill and sweaty face of Fire and brimstone.
The call and response.
The well oiled ,stiff proceedings.
what do you believe.

Maybe you draw the lottery on Saturday
The Lord is our Sheppard. We shall not want.
Blasphemy you say.
No I am a believer.

I believe that we are.
For now and a wisp forever after.
A daunting prospect. But who knows. Faith.

The pews have been the uprising and the downfalling of many
Freedom or indoctrination
Left to our own devices. Hell's door agape.
a fertile mind, weak and troubled will gently lite on the word
then draw sustenance
for good
For ill.

The gates that lead to destruction are wide
and broad is the way.
The pews are narrow and finite.You will find me there
from time to time.  

.

jarring.no melody.

Scarring.No reverie

Rotund.Not svelt.

Verbose.not soothing.

Coarse. Not felt

Come. A card has been delt. A farthing is due.
Pound of flesh or two.


Come.skip to his leu.a tortuous dirge.
Come to the very end of days.

Come children, no turn to return to. My child.

A lemming's trance . Dutifull ant by rote. Chant-like.
Forward to the witches castle. Then stumble.to the horizon

To the witche's castle.

To scatter there.Fodder held ******* to the wayward wind.
Hubris comes calling. Now falling
To forever or never.... forever.

Sits between twin bluffs  burrowing into neon souls
long to be seen in a  future frame of corpses and flipping
through the lenses of the kaleidoscope 1916 or there abouts.

Mr Edison took full advantage of the moment transitioning for all time  the boundaries.Maybe Muybrige in1888.
The here and now. The real and surreal. the equation is now unbalanced.
Is seeing now believing? or is believing a reason to see.

The proof is in the putting.
Dead men long digested in soil and  ground  can still emit sound and point  a blame-full  finger
Linger if you dare in the baleful stare of the science.
quiet, silence, desist. No
even virtue  can not  still the burning light.

cellulose spirits on walkabout lookout from the past again and again
flickering things they be.  conjure you as well as you conjure them.

The end is sight at the bottom of the hill
steel rails to nowhere still squeal to silence,
The riders swing free and lite on Italian loafers and
skulk away. padded shoulders conceal weak wills and
weaker hearts still.

Silver screen visual refraction
once there for all to admire must now bow deeply.
Curtsy?
Vanish and still remain at the pointed end of   it.

Truth be told...as mysteries unfold
Let seven be one all falshoods undone.
                 Standing on the jagged cliffs
      Looking  inward.
Touched by the hand .....words revealed
Revealed........now and...always.
The revelator.
Enumerator
Enunciator
Eluminator
Written.

Who's that writter ?
John the revelator.

Slap saddle.
Shake and rattle.
           Oh my aching back.
Hunker down wave at the clown.
Yipi ky yo ky yeh.
            What you talkin bout willis.   (Bruce )
Yipi yie yo ky yay

Knees high. Shoulders low
***** down ten gallon.
           Hands tight. Elbows in
                      Come a tye yeye yipi yipi yo yipi yeh.

Come a tye yeye yip yipi yeh.

An intergalactic asteroid crashed
In times square.
A deadly virus
Spread.

Now we have a rampant epidemic of
The east coast.
Squawking dead.

What ?
Woman.
Where? Head to toe.
Who ? All things tangible.
Easy on the eyes. on the inside.
    On the inside. I smell strong desire. A fire. That flickers
       The scent of sweet tangerines. The skin can burn your eyes..

How many have tried? And cried
The floral offering with prickly stem
To hold on tight as palms bled.
But to have the moon in your vision.
As the tide rises with no struggle for decision.

Sunni do you know?
You must know.
Slow and turgid.
Slow and sensuosus.

The power is yours to lose.
They will push your soul
Your will.
Still.
                   The velvet glove my love.
                   Stocking feet. My sweet.
                   Force with inertia.
                   Abide.
                                                          ­You need nothing but be your
                                                           Moniker. From the beauty inside
                                                          ­               Your heart is your weakness
                                                        ­                   Your salvation.
                                                      ­                     So much to give.
                                                           ­                Just live and turn the tide

The little metal box it.hides in plain site behind the velvet painting of a Zulu warrior slightly off center a bit to the right.
The warrior. Hmmm.No The vault.

A naked dwarf. He struggles quietly at midnight to  gather and drag my blocks of raw marble across crystaline floors to the vaault then
He stands there for hours before clcking the numbers.Clack goes the handle. Success.

The hinges have rusted since last deposit. He looks furtively over his shoulder as the metalic groan turns to a squeek. Abra cadabra.
Time to do work. Stealthy old fella he whistles while he works.

One block,two, three and so.
He forces the stones through a the four square door.
Rubs his hands together. Wipes the drivle from his chin
Then walks out the door backwards. The one he came in.

My vault is reloaded with pleasure and pain.
So I can write poetry again and again.

We who see to plumb and ponder always turning pebble and stone,cutting to the quick pulling marrow from bone.Why ?
Arrested in time like children asking. The joy of disection. Us who seek.
We pose the querry never content. The puzzled inquisitor.
Poet ?
A frazzled strand on the helix. Pain emmersed ? Love unrequited.

We stand afar and scan the horizons.mark the twain at depths uncharted. WE who are blessed and cursed look deeper and longer at the Gorgon on certain pain.

Poet.seeker
Poet.mind painter.
Poet.mind sailor.
Poet.soul soother
Poet.revelator.
Poet.truth warrior.
Poet. My kin.
Poet.my sister
Poet. My brother.

Both north and south
East and west.
In tempest and typhoon a surly wind doth *******
this way and that.
In truth there is great beauty.
Good follows ill as the sun warms the chill. The rising sun chases shadows to ground as predator stalks it's prey.

Seasons of plenty following famine.
No win
No lose.
Cycles...seasons come and go.

Mary Mack dressed in red.
A Bonnie blue ball cap adorns her head.
Painted on jeans and jungle boots.

Jet black eyeliner.
curled up lashes. Eyes dark brown. Catch the blue trolley heading uptown.
Mary Mack is a pleasure savant.for twenty-five  dollars you can get what u want.

You caint always get what u want, but if you cry sometimes  
you get what u need.

Mary McKenzie. All in a frenzy.
Sped up on ice. Nice baby. Nice.

Got that rare disease called noassatall.
Burning calories like crazy.
cant call the girl lazy. Never sit still.

Two degrees in arts.
trying out for bit parts.now and then.
Fame. An oasis/mirage

Singing lead in a band in a backyard garage.
Many parts to Ms. Mary.
Strange, sweet,smart and dumb.

Message to Mary.
Go back where your from.

From love's facination the joy and pain of it all they slowly pull their questing hand away from flickering flame away from love or loss.

Frisky and coye a first then they quickly see the spectre of past demons of bloodied hearts ..deception then they recede and begin to dance ..
As
They turn their minds away to  havens built from the rubble of yesterday..fall away.

To bastion and barricades they made from fantasies of the highest grade "  my heart of heart cant take the chance of another love found and another love lost"
SO..FALL AWAY THEY MUST.
The clock ticks forward
Never back and so the dance proceeds
A dirge as understudy seeking solace centerstage seeking. Wanting.desirous. envious and confused.

An ember still seeking air it sits hopefully in hearts all dressed up in pounding chest.
Again the moment sits there the tick the tock from love's timekeeper time reaper and so the the moment passes as she turns askance with fears well justified.
She turns the lock as tumblers catch the safety latched.
Dreams at bay.
Hopes astray
Needs neatly wrapped and tucked away.
Love, love go.away come again some other day.
Sweet nothings how they capture.keens to rapture
Just love me please for what I am,love me with no reservations . See deeeper than my fears. Take my hand and lead.the dance but love past all other. The silent request.
In the moments heat turned slow deception. They learn to
Fall away

Old as creation. THE CRADLE.
This is Africa.
Musky and dank.THE GRAVE.
This is Afrika.

Vast as eternity.THE ECHO.
Echo.
This is Africa.
Verdant and green.
All points between.
STARVATION.Rampant.
This is Africa.

Machete vicious.Zebra and Gazelle.Heaven walks into hell.
Afrika as well

FREE UNTAMED.
And T.I.A
This
Is
Afrika.

Cant swallow my Tilapia for the girl across the room.
My.soups.gettin cold cause of miss Boom Boom.
Looking to my right penne pasta chicken. Boy my 20/20 vision is takin a lickin.
Not really my style but the seating is what it is Soo...

Tig O Biddys got me in a bind.
Biddys in front and Biddys on the side.
Biddys one mile high and.ten miles wide.
Like dicing.onions
They made me. Shake my head and cry

big Hand laying on top of the small hand straight up midnight.

water drip dropping in the kitchen sink like a dusty jackhammer
solving Chinese algebra in the Blazing noonday Sun

good bye baby so long girl.
you knew the drill off the top of
your head you knew  how to make me hurt....so good
I dreamt that dream again last night standing in the middle of the floor.the music was low the tempo real slow

just how we did a thousand times before  but this time, this time baby
they were just four walls ,the music playing  and the closing of the door.

I am in the golden time now.
Destiny crooks her finger, beckons me to
Her alter.

The moment is upon me  keeps my head bowed- low and grateful
a  wisdom still young.a toddler still.
so when she caresses my back ever so softly and whispers feathers in my ear
"fear not all is well written"
truth is your  shield,courage is your armor , steadfast  be  your bow spoken word , arrows in the wind.

I will douse you in  scalding
hot fire.the rain with temper you
lightning will strike from high and draw you forth anew.
you are in the golden chalice and none shall conquer you.

To the river then he said
To the wash.To salvations song he cried.
To the river then he whispered,as he withered deep inside.

To the river where the water rushes all our sins aside.

To the river then without delay
To the river by and by.

They threw boulders at glass house and roasted marshmallows AT the cookouts. MEDIUM RARE.

The troglodets, they put on a.show, sang four part harmony in the round in open air.

Fred Flinstone dropped in for a cameo and Barney held the door.

the show went over pretty well.
To three or four encores or more
I dont know who sent in the clowns
But slapstick ruled the day.

The animal act was
Kind of wack

Central park Nevuary. 3rd.
There's a noise like I never heard.
Humming and grunting.
Guess Ill go hunting.
trolling they call it.

Candy.apples are bait they tell me .
Lucky I'm stocked up with the caramel kind..
Why?  Don't have a clue.

Creeping on my belly to the clearing ahead.
Therel"s a huge checkered table cloth . Checkered I said
Sir.  Are there more white squares or more red type squares sir.

Trolls sit cross legged in front of a candy apple pile.
Stuffing their faces a minute a mile.
Trolls are a fiction or that is the tale.
These trolls wash down apples with hot ginger ale

I wish I would stop dreaming this dream.every time
I eat mango ice cream.

Yes my dear.
That was your name on the marquee
Truly

   Fame and fortune  is a long way away.
Truly

But closer  still is love the rear view mirror.
Duly noted ?

Run away if you must but
truly why must you ?
All that you will find is
You.

Dont you know your foolish heart will not be denied ?
All illusions aside.
Sunsets are transcendent a thing to behold.
a new day resplendent waits.
  let your senses
remove fences
your eyes see the rainbow.

your ears hear the sparrow
your breath smell the pine

Truly beloved let your
your tongue taste the wine.

surely.

Total abstinence is so excellent a thing it cannot be carried to too great an extent and

Wit is the  sudden marriage of ideas which before their union had no relation.

Americans will occasionally astonish the God that created us when given a fair shake .

Indecency is the first thing the missionary teaches the savage.

Nature knows no indecencies ;man invents them.


Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities ,truth isn't.

Action is always the way ; words will answer as long as it is his neighbor who is in trouble.

Truth is the most valuable thing we have.Let us economize it.

Herodotus says,very few things happen at the right time and the rest do not happen at all

Obsession is the man with a hole in the seat of his pants and cannot keep his fingers out  it

My mother had a great deal of trouble with me but I think she enjoyed it

Size of the dog in the fight dont count.size of the fight in the dog

Dont go around going the world owes you a living. The world was here first

Denial Just aint a river in EGYPT

Prose wanders around with a lantern & laboriously schedules & verifies the details.

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated

Hunger is pride's master

I must be schizophrenic but I caint say four shore.

There's this other Other that writes poems as if I'm not sitting here. He makes me write things that I.don't understand
he sits on my shoulder. Pushes my hand like a Houdini illusion
Pops up unannounced and bounces.
Works at his leisure.
Comes and goes as he pleases.
I think Im schizophrenic.

I Stand firmly with my hands relaxed cause the kid looking down on me just cant FADE me.
His eyes smirk with disdain as he rubs against the grain but my years in the realm keep my hands firm at the helm just smirk him right back and now he's feeling wack cause I slipped his attack and the punk can't fade me.

See...my body is tough and conditioned. Swift still powerfull and lithe.
Six decades see I aint ***** made ....still cool as the shade and makin the grade...I moved in and stayed...aint shaky and the kids cant fade me.

Payed those dues early and often.....not boasting. Just love confounding young ducklings snotty  lil fucklings.
My mind is quick I pay my dues...use it or lose it...no aint bout to dodder become cannon fodder for rooks with no stripes... talk that **** if I have to.
Walk that **** too.
Blessed and respectfull.
Man I love checkin chickens who get it wrong.My body is my carriage my spirit an amalgam of knowlege and physicality.
They try to cubby hole.This old dude dont fit mold.
Kick your *** and get witty. Aint fresh of no *****.
They shake their heads or feign disdain g
But again and again they misread. Down for the de de.
Aint no play pretty.Energiser bunny. You cant fade me punk.I might spank your *** like your uncle.....Nephew.
Your hands cant hit what your eyes cant see.
You cant chump me off play me no dozens. I aint old cause I'm lucky. Plucky.
Every dog has his day and one day the magic will end ask Houdini .....   ..... but till then my young friends,this old man's gonna play nick nack on your ****. And ya don't stop and ya don't quit. FEEL ME ? Cause ya caint fade me.....Yet.