I sure as hell get a lot of things wrong
With creativity and persistence it might go right
Branches breaking off in the wind, rain whipping horizontal
At times I lose it but it doesn't mean I can never win

I've lost a lot of time chasing my tail
Flipping through my billfold buying this buying that
It numbed me, shifted my focus, filled my space
I was collecting shinny things like a magpie

I tested myself over nothing, rotting meat
I didn't know my *** from my head
It's hard to clean the slate when in ignorance
When I ignore my arrogance, it becomes a sword to the throat

Seven times seven,
Mojo good to go.

All of the candles
Lit in a row.

White flakes
of Angel dust,
what do they say...
Let it snow let it snow.



Seasons come
and seasons go.

This one
is a tip of the hat,
A come in from the cold.

Another year gone,
the next is new.

What may be
let it be,

Glittering in Gold

Take the Vibe,
A day when fear
is on hold,

to leave
full and total
Peace of the Soul.

A ****** crossed
a crescent moon
in a twilight sky,
the wind whispering
"Is this a blessing
or is it a curse."

Falling stars pass through
the pastel splashed canvas
of a Northern night
heading toward
once green fields
***** and on fire
with no morning's dew
for rest bit.

To the south
mountain tops
pushing jaggedly  
through milk white clouds,
their tips, rock bare and alone,
always looking down on the world,
their stone being smoothed by
one hundred million winds
through one hundred million years.

Only time will tell
if there will be a human shadow
to bask in the rays of a close enough Sun.
Playful gods, mythical legends telling us that
any great wrong will be found out.
A Proverb's Fallout dripping
down our brow like interest owed to creditors.

A ****** crossed
the crescent Moon,
they hung in a twilight Sky.

The Wind whispers:

Is this a blessing
or is it a curse.

I **** my head
and heave a sigh.

Tumbling headlong
into the abyss  
this just got worse.


Can we go the distance
or are we going down with the Ship.

After all, who owns the Moon,
who can lay claim to the stars.

Time will tell.

I told you
not to touch me,
why'd you go
and do that.

I told you
not to touch me,
look what you've done.

I was feeling
that I needed someone
to take away the pain,
you came along
with your lookin' goods
your, you're funnys
and your boy you're smarts.

We stood there face to face,
I wanted you to go and I
told you not to touch me.

I told you not to touch me,
now look what you've done,
I can't shake this feeling,
like I just caught fire,
come on now put me out.

I told you not to touch me,
I know I told you that.
When you touch me
like you touch me
there is no turning back.




© 2013

There's an uprising in the streets
Everywhere you can hear the pounding of the peoples feet

You can hear their voices as the crowds cry
They pick a target but the old guard will fight not to die

I know enough to know I don't know much
Tell me you know because you know such and such

I wasn't born a Jew but they call me Irving
I sit back on my heels while I make a living

A pock-marked moon in a late-night sky
Listen to the news trying to avoid a lie

Unless I have an accident I will choose the year I die
2020 was quite an incident let's let the new year fly

You can just
get out of my face.

Your response to
some one not liking you,
is to not like them back.

Here's a thought,
why don't you try
changing the way you act.

You may be a friend of a friend
but that alone does not garner respect.

I call you 'Tomorrow' because
that's when I want to see you
and every body knows
tomorrow never comes.

You had better hope
that some of the things
that you say come back to haunt you
because nowadays not too many
even what to say boo to you.


© 2012

All rights reserved.

She is the devil
in thin disguise,
she will prattle on
"oh the greatness of his being",
but her clothing
is stitched with lies
and her nakedness is obscene.
I call her 'tomorrow'
because that is when
I want to see her.
Everybody knows
tomorrow never comes.


© 2012

today
is all I have

yesterday
is worlds away

tomorrow
never comes

I stand around in my day by day
and a  friend came just to say,

It's all wrong you got it wrong
I tell you this because our friendship is true

I go to and fro in my day by day
That same friend came up to say

You have it all wrong and I feel I can tell you
as our friendship is true.

Fresh moment to alive to die brings out the life
I try to live, sewing moments all in a row.

My so called friend states yet again I do it but do it wrong yet.
Now is it for me to drag  my friend into the realm of possibility
Or is his doing it wrong comments come only out of his fear.

Cast out Faith
into the wind
and Doubt
upon the Sea.

Believe your Self empty,
to be filled.

Cast away Hope
to the Earth
and your despair
to the Stars.

Be done with your version
of Right and Wrong.

Cast away Righteousness
into the deep
and malice where
it cannot be dredged.

Stand to replace these with Vision,
Vision and Truth.

Cast out your Human desires,
cast away your mask..
be God within you,
without you, through you.

Be done with that mask,
become your Self.

Cast them away..
Faith, Hope,
Doubt and Despair.

With rigorous Humility
choose to be Disciplined.

Cast your Self clean,
relieve your Self of these,
becoming empty to be
filled with greater things.

A late afternoon drive
through the countryside.

A lot of rolling hills
dotted with fields and farms.

Haying time, first of the season.
Old roads potted with holes,

asphalt turning to dirt...
we lay plumbs of dust.

The suddenness of a summer shower,
then thunder rumbles, the rain begins.

When the water hits the dirt
it almost looks like little atomic bombs.

We stop the car, not being able to see
through the windshield.

The farming community called Old Barns,
with a Lady Slipper Lane and the whole bit.

Silos breaking the sky, drizzle equals puddles,
puddles to drive home through.

A lick and a promise, the sweat of the gods,
nothing  comes close to a tour by the bay.

I haven't seen a passenger train roll on through town
for near two year now.
Plenty of freight moves, stopping traffic at intervals.
They carry illegal art on their exterior
for-all-to-see. Even for those who never look.

Christmas this year is cool, green and sunny. The freezer is full and times have been worse. I walked this morn crossing paths with a couple of dog owners out doing what dogs do.

The gifts have been given and the race to the table will be around six. Smoked, baked ham and vegies. You are what you eat or something along that line.

A starry night is forecast and I will venture out and about and around this tiny train town. I'm sure to don winter-wear and crunch the salt that be liberally applied to the concrete walk-way.

Hide and seek
Playing heartstrings
Allowance of resonance

Bounced off brow
Humpty cracks
trust, an eggshell

I believe we both grew

Trust, flung
to the ground
by a horse named
Riddled Doubt
with a broken leg.

They shoot horses don't they.

Trust, flung
to the ground
by the horse
Riddled Doubt
with its broken leg...
They shoot horses don't they?... not really...

Hi, my name is Gene and I'm an alcoholic... Hygiene... clapclapclap.

" IT is like there are these two Dogs
that I hold inside of me.
One wants to sit in my lap and lick the hand
and play and dance and go for long walks.

THEN there is the other, it wants to grimace and growl
and bare its teeth
and rip off the face of this world
and of everything that it sees."

HERE,
in the mechanics of the mind, as it matters,
halfway from heaven, half way from hell,

SOME just aren't mechanically inclined,
and while most move forward
others get left behind.

A BOOK talks about this big war of Spirit
an its stress is that it is no game,
no politics physical or not can steer it,
there will be no passing of the buck,
no pointing the finger in blame.

NO LONGER
am I walking with my head
up in the stars,
my feet are  flat  right  on  the  ground.

I PUT MY EAR
to the track and hear
that heavy chunk of metal
with its painfully mournful sound,

THAT
painful whistle
with
its mournful sound.

I AM
walking on earth, that half way place,

I AM
being tugged

AND I
don't want to dig a hole,
I don't want to go back down.

I TELL YOU WELL,
the universe is saying
in no uncertain terms
that I had better hold back,
that I had better take heed,
it isn't just me that gets cut,
no it isn't, no, all others bleed.

ALL those **** good loving deeds
that hath spawned better life
and don't know that I don't know about!

WHAT ABOUT
all those hurtfully hostile things,
those things
that gave Hell for many to carry,
Those things that gave Hell for many to tell.

THEN
a breeze broke the solid heat
and quelled the sweat
and quenched the thirst,
you can toast the twisted souls
or you can have them cursed.

MY MINDS EYE,
for one brief moment,
no longer enveloped and inflamed,
nor will I ever see things quite the same.

NEVER
is it one cause, one reaction,
and Oh
my thoughts and my actions,
my
shame that comes
in fractions of degrees.

I CAN say there are other planes,
I can think that if I please,
though with every breath that I breathe
I'd rather announce to the world
that I'm not out just to feed.

BUT THEN
there is that sleeping dog,
that one sick soul,

AND
out of some emotional need
to make it better,
some need to make it easy,

LIKE it had some pain or purpose,
or a point of some need
of something that just had to be said.

THAT dog that you kicked
only had a snack of grass
before he laid himself down to take his bed.

YOU have been nudging him
with your boot and now he is awake
and he is going to open his yap
and ***** on you shoes
before he commences to growl

AND that godawful hell... will be back
and its going to extract

ONE BLOOD CURDLING HOWL.

You may as well just throw in the towel
because it can't be tamed, no your mind is trained,
this devil goes by so many names.

end


Al Rights Reserved@1997

life is full of twists and turns
beautiful visions and down right burns

i feel so big
when i used to feel so small,
i feel like a tyronasaurs-rex
having tyronasaurs-***
and that ain't all,
when i used to feel so small
i wouldn't come out,
would not come out at all.
remember the time
that you were a train wreck
and i helped you to bed,
i scared away all the monsters
that were in your head.

© 2012



All Rights Reserved 2012

In the underground city
where they march
to the stoplight
going nowhere fast.

***** mounted set
swings or the everlasting.
A tone to set mood,
to change that very thing.

brisk room to move,
speeding the set,
not letting us settle,
only a brush and we're off.

Sleeping under the sheets
of a hot, hot desert sun,
that cold is gone
but for this evening.

Undertow ***** silvery light
down to the underground.
Kisses of light sent to and fro
in a dull foreboding march.

Some kind of beautiful Finch
came to visit today.

She was black and blue and
two shades of grey.

As I sat on the stoop
with February's day.

So much sunshine
it would be hard pressed
to feel dismay.

My mind drifting
like in a dream...

Where you can't
quite make it go your way.

Just float on my back
in the whispy whispery world.

Dream of a day where  
there is no need
to have a Flag to unfurl.

The polyester I wore in the seventies was itchy,
the equivalent of one of those hair shirts the religious
fanatics wear after rubbing it in a bunch of sharply pointed twigs.
The seventies were good times  and carried a bright future.
Introduced by hippies to a **** that opened my senses.
Some trouble began when at sixteen, while taking a trip with a friend
on some powerful LSD we began to get very high and the hallucinations started to freak my friend into a major bad trip.
There was nothing I could do and I was scared too. That night we stayed in a tent  and used candles for light, all the shadows  and the candle wax  melting looked like giant bugs crawling, while the flickering on the sides of the  darkened tent  felt so sinister
Things were never the same for my friend, I mean he lost a part of his mind. He could still function but was never the same.
I on the other hand lived hard and fast for years. I did most of the drugs that I came across never giving it much thought. Just moving forward, integrating experience. Not thinking of death but not of life either.

The polyester I wore in the seventies was itchy,
the equivalent of one of those hair shirts the religious
fanatics wear after rubbing it in a bunch of sharply pointed twigs.

The seventies were good times  and carried a bright future.
Introduced by hippies to a **** that opened my senses.
Some trouble began when at sixteen, while taking a trip with a friend, on some powerful LSD we began to get very high and the hallucinations started to freak my friend into a major bad trip.

There was nothing I could do and I was scared too. That night we stayed in a tent  and used candles for light, all the shadows  and the candle wax  melting looked like giant bugs crawling, while the flickering on the sides of the  darkened tent  felt so sinister.

Things were never the same for my friend, I mean he lost a part of his mind. He could still function but was never the same.

I on the other hand lived hard and fast for years. I did most of the drugs that I came across never giving it much thought. Just moving forward, integrating experience. Not thinking of death but not of life either.

I have a Doctors appointment by phone for November 15th....
.....I don't think this prostate exam is going to bring the joy I was hoping for.

Foot
        long
                 toenails
one hundred year old whales


Can't
    find the vein
       a junkies old refrain

Lost
in the music
   of the street

The hiss
    of rubber on the road
       a sustained
           lullaby

The reeds the reeds
  blow those reeds

Plant seeds plant seeds
   plant those seeds

   Water them well
           from

An ancient well
  with spiked punch

And German sausages
         so big that to get them up
                 you need a forklift

You heard by now
        there's  no depending on me
           when it comes down to the crunch

but.... ****... end of the joke so

Keep on keeping on
   stretching out those legs

If not to
    just walk
      around the block

When I first learned
that Trump was

running for President
I thought it was a joke.

Then I saw the irony
and knew for sure.

Nothing was ever going to change
no matter who was Head of State.

Nothing changes and nothing will ever change,
unless we throw away the rulebook...

and **** the rich.

That fight between the ears,
between love and war...

when love loses
and hatred oozes.

You've gone and lost control.
Your ego is on a
I Me Mine trip.

Let go
and do your back flip.

You kind of
feel like crying,
it has been
a long ride home...

Why don't you
roll up your sleeves
and dig in the dirt.

Go and repair the damage,
now that wouldn't hurt.

Oh Lord,
I'm a ******
for your junk..

so go and plunk your junk
right down beside me.

Forget about the grief
it doesn't really matter.

Don't hold
any cards up your sleeve.

Listen to the washboard,
guitar and harp.
All that banging on
the piano, it sounds so good


Just go on and get free
any way you can...

Come on if you want,
that's the way it's supposed to be.

Now I'm not lying
and I am trying
but sometimes it's
one step forward two steps back

So many mistakes, let them go,
just smoke up the smoke stack.

Where to go, where to go,
you have a beginning
and a middle part
but you can't
see the end....

I hinted, she blushed
I rode waves inside
Is it just attention I seek
I lift and carry and know
Not the direction I go
I try to reconcile two outcomes
One cancelling another out
Is it ticker-tape in April
Avoiding The Fool
When does it belong, how do I mold it into belong

Out in space on the other side of the earth
where the world of water blocks out the sun,
you look outward to see the stars burn bright
without Earths atmosphere they don't flicker,
they shine strong and the total darkness calls,
it calls God to your heart, while the milky way
is a band of white, leading to where? Perhaps,
back to the Garden.  Here on Earth, between
these ears, where the battle of the soul rages
and your conceit grips you with two hands
around your neck while you try and run away
in the other direction, or maybe you'll just sit
in the **** while a legion of devils whisper in
your ear. The Hounds of Hell, they aren't satis-
fied when you hold out a biscuit shaped like a
bone, no, they want to gnaw your bones to pulp,
they lift there leg and **** on you as you stand
there shaking, shaking like leaves on a tree and
you know your only hope is to bow your head
down and get down on bended knee. Go to the
Cross and from the dirt on the ground look up
to that naked figure there that paid the price, the
God-Man sent to fight the battle for you. All you
need to do is ask, go to your closet and in the darkness
of that small closet with its four walls in arms reach
and all of its ghosts with their hot breath breathing
down your neck permeating your pores and let your
Spirit pray.  Keep praying as the tears roll down to soak
your breast, pray until your eyes puff red. Pray that the
Christ saves you rather than not; as you've been the Devils
play toy for so, so long, and if you don't choose when you
know the difference God may just move on, move on to
save a soul that really wants to be saved. How ignorant and
arrogant we are about the Laws of the Universe, about the law
of cause and affect, about living a life of faith and instruction.


© 2013

plumes of mist
kissed with

an electric
charge

grateful son
of grateful souls

who lived and died
a human span

no torch to pass
no punches to pull

when I hide
they come to me

they smile at
my unwillingness

love is no joke
not just another spoke

with no string to pull
fumbling habitually

in tongue and groove
endlessly laid out

to crawl until I walk
until I fly

you say you quit me
that much is true
but we never danced real well
so i guess we're through

The only difference
Between today and yesterday
Is that there is a permanent record
Of one's stupidity now

Blue Jay Blue Jay
You're so very blue today
Did your loved one leave you
Has she gone astray

In the crisp October air
With the falling leaves everywhere
I catch my breath that stretches
Out in front of me in vaporous plumes

It's been one hell of a life
I'm glad to be along for the ride
It seems the older I get
The less I have to hide

And we went down to see
What the commotion was
There were all types of people

They shared the same blood
They shared the same bone


We smudged, the smoke, the smell
You don't take it for granted
When you're so far from the well

Forget the seven-year-itch
Life can be a *****
You can pound your fists
When the whole thing gets you ******

The sign on  the variety store said FREE COMIC BOOKS....
I never new they were enslaved

My wife was happy to find an older style laptop, she came home Excitedly saying it's a Dell, it's a Dell


I said, I heard she lost weight.

It was Wednesday four times last month,
my feet are on the world my hands are in the sky... "The sheep spends its live fearing being eaten by the wolf only to be slaughtered by the shepherd". What a way to die.

I miss the crowds hanging around the busker at the liquor store, the musician  pounding out a rhythm, the crowd moving and shaking, the air fills with vibrations.
I roll up my sleeves to humbly dig in the dirt, for music claims my life's blood.
  
Forget about the grief and the losing hand we are holding, even with a royal Flush the house will always win.

Hi, sorry but I forgot your name, I'm the neighbour that lives above you. Could you please stop yelling at your wife...   this isn't the 50's anymore.

Why do you say "jumping jesus christ" do you think he was hopping around Nazareth handing out fishes and loaves  like  some bloodless Easter bunny.

Always, my heart is in my hand, it just slipped off my sleeve, my love strokes it while it lay in my palms.
My mother died in pain but peace, on her deathbed she always felt better when I read to her her favorite psalms.

In the universal language
of middle fingers
and eye rolls.

close to
being something
so far.

in the end
closer,

not always
better.

four become
two become
one,
closer.

love doesn't
matter
about anything.

you just
hold on
remembering
it is always
better.

© 1999

the
trees
the
fields

the sky

always
reckless

forever
shy

stone
cold
sober

soon
to
be
over

a
mistake

egg
on the
face

never
knowing
one's

place.

How
I shut
myself down
it's a wonder
in its self

Sometimes
I crave being needed
while I'm in need of great help

If I could trust
in the Universe
and clean this house

Perhaps
more good
would
spew forth
when
I opened
my mouth

How can
you grow up
if you're a child of God.

But it's
the only way
I know about

When
things
get
too
hard

You could
never give it away
no you lost your chance

Putting it all
down to happenstance

You can't anymore
it was taken from you
long before

You gave it freely
a second ago
where it is now
I just don't know.

i have a
name as long as
        a gang plank

questioning
    over heard
         whispers

dog
eared pages
        bark
         in a book with
            a broken spine

innocuous radio
  blurting bubbles
     to light on
   sleeping beauty's
      unmade bed

Tree leaves
Dancing
In a light
Breeze
Soft rain
Clings to
Branches
Before falling
On the ground
The season
In change.

I sit down to write
and with  all my might,

I cost a deal ....
it's being fed to me
piecemeal .....

You crank it,
let's see if it does fit

And all the while,
I sit back and
I do smile

But when it
comes 'round again

You can hack a tree
bring 'em home to the plane

It all comes down to
the fact that we blew,

we'll always think
that we were  in style

Yes , just a wink
and a smile....

Hold off, hold off,
we can't do this for ever.

I'm blind, I'm blind..
you tell me of some other
way to unwind.

I've climbed the North Mountain
coming up from the bay
I looked to see the sights spread below.

Farmland as far as the eye can see
I sat down and began to wonder
until I was full.

Starting down the mountain
to the valley below.
And when I get there I'll see how it goes

Picking  fruit to make a dime
And when the season is over
I'll  know the time.

The people you meet
from other lands doing the same as I,
working with their hands.

I was not
born in the USA, if I were
I'd be tired of the excuses having to be made
from the wars to the dead Kennedy brothers.

And the Martin Luther Kings.
Anyone who brings glimpses of a World for the better.
Those with the current currency that they clutch tightly.
They will never allow things to become worthwhile for all.

How much
of the population
needs to be soul-serious
to speed up the change
away from the love of money
toward the love of humankind.

The system has lost control.
A vote means nothing
An Election means nothing

Everyone around the World
watches on and their juices get stirred.
The Rich talk about a New World Order.

Something has to change,
war will not change it,
hoarding money and power
will not change it.

The only thing that can change it
is you and me. What if they threw a war
and nobody came.

My views might lean toward a simpler
type of socialism, but one fully gutted.
No Rich with their self proclaimed power
to own places and things. To lay claim to the land that belongs to no one.
The Earth and The Sky is the right of all, not any ruling class not any warring class.

Radical you say, well it is the roots that are rotting.

They want us to be divided, unthinking about anything
other than a ******* car or truck or a house we only think we own
Until the time they want to take it from us. Leaving us nothing,
leaving more and more to beg and to curse the cold: Blaming those who have.

Can you see their arrogance thinly veiled with a shallow smile?
Can you see the destruction of this small planet we all share only
when it comes to taking up a bit of space and a little oxygen.
A revolution is at hand but not one of the sword and shield


If anyone is in need of an intervention it's all of us, every last one of us.
Our disregard for life... all life. Change, 'change has come' is flaunted to many
of the mass but many around the world are waking up. They no longer believe. We must keep this Universal tool of Information so most of us can galvanize with the like minded.

Not to play at a thing called Twitter were in my world Twitter is a place
just south of LA where everyone is practising joke writing for the movies
and TV. And most are failing. Real change is brought about by Leaders knowing that real change begins from within. The stronger we become
the more compassionate we look on our world. The more we want change for all.

Face to face with a habitual liar
make your words  heard when you say
Hey you liar, your pants are on fire.
Save that ******* and pull yourself higher.

Use your words when they say
''Vote for me". Tell them
they can't change things and if they could
they make welcome the snipers bullet.

Use your words to heal the unhealthy
Let them know there is a better life
Everything changes like everything should,
when you begin to rearrange things
There's a greater possibility for good.

Shuffle your train of thought bearing witness to something worthwhile
Let go of the ****, throw it on the ground to help your garden grow.
When you see it for real you can be the winner, or at least place or show. Everyone will see the change, making it hard not to know.

Use you words to change the way of love
Let them know that they don't fall in love.
They only uncover the love that was always there.
Love isn't only in the air, love is ultimately everywhere.

Use your words when you have done another harm
You freedom begins with your follow-through,
Actions  have always spoken louder that words.
Without an action you only squawk like  hungry  birds.

Use your words to summon your creator,
knowing the truth of how selfish you are.
Ask for guidance, and leadership, every day, and in every way.
Remember we are kindred spirits, we are all one.
Let that attitude be the one way, the one way that you display.

Vegans are from Venus
Meat eaters are from Mars,
Vegetarians sit around the
breakfast nook light years
from Polaris, knee deep
in far away stars.
All the bread eaters are
closet bakers in disguise.
Those who lunch out
of dumpsters
spend their days
pulling the wings off of flies..
Nobody knows the
troubles they have seen,
and the apathy of the
middle class, well that
is nothing short of obscene.
The protein shake pumpers
sneer at  old time
Bible thumpers.
While the yoga
young collectibles
leave a good portion
of the day largely unsung,
knowing full well they
have nothing worthy
to kiss off the tip
of their tongue.

three minutes walk
from my home
a giant park
with trails
and a few
waterfalls

beautiful
is the way
to describe it

the roar
of the falls
are hypnotizing and

in that momentary trance
time slips away

the smell
of the furs
and pines
the tall trees
guide your eyes
to the pale bluest
of blue skies

the trails
that lead you
through rocky terrain
still icy making it
a bit of a challenge
for unsure footing

time
spent
clears the head
and resurrects
restoring the spirit

three minutes
from my back door
what more could a person ask for

I was thumbing
through some vinyl
when all of a sudden
I had to go home
to take care of some
serious business
so I grabbed some
Taj Mahal
and hit the road

Later the same day
I put on my costume
of an old blues man
an blew some folks away
then I packed up my gear
and was home by 9:00

you never know
when he's just going to lose it
the smallest thing can set him off

when he approaches
he's wearing a smile
on the outside he looks fine

say the wrong thing
and his eyes will glaze over
you get to feeling on guard real quick

his demeanour is full of loathing
a hatred of self and others
leaving and acidic taste and an air full of stench

you don't want to cross his path
see him and you take another street
violence or the threat of keeps one in their place