While I still can
Before I become nothing more
Than a dusty,old box full of tools
On the empty work bench
In the way
Not to be used anymore
But too soon to be given away
I have to hurry
While I still have things to do

Why do you lie

While I sleep?

Telling things

That I should keep

Oh, Drunken pen

Trailing ink

Telling stories while I drink

Where are you

When I wake?

Gone, gone

But the ink

Just the ink

On paper traced

nothing left

But stories, Stories,

To be told

In the dark

Never, ever to be shown

in the light of day

But drunken pen

Why do you,

Yet sober stay

So far and  far away?

To the streets

In mob and crowd

To the streets

In angry throng

Let chants and pounding din

Lead the crowds

To pull them down

Tyrants and thieves

Those that lead us

Steal elections then deceive us

Fires lit in the people

In the streets

Let them see us

Let them hear us

Let them fear us

March

March

To the streets

She was a child when she left

But when she returned

The man she used to know was gone

He had grown old

His bones thin

His belly fat

He still laughed

But the light in his eyes

Had grown dim

But still

She laughed along with him

And smiled at him

And pretended

That they were both

Still young

Bark at the moon and bite at the sky
Moon and fire lighting your eyes
Wild at heart
Wild in body
Clothed in smoke
On the fourth of July
Concussions booming
Powder burning
Sparks flying
A dogs hearts yearning
Chasing rockets, dragons and Lions
Brown muscled beast
Born to baying
Work 'Til dawn
Then lay down yawning
And dream the dream
Of the hunting dog tired

Thwarted ocean now behind her

Salted wind and low voiced murmur

Creaking beam and riven plank

Breaking waves in dark of night

Under load and straining rope

Slowly slips into the harbor

Stealth and darkness help to hide her

While anchor drops and warriors ready

‘Til deafening roar on ‘Morrow dawn

Bring death and war to our shores

No one here is set save you

Save yourself or perish surely

Now is the time to put fear aside

……. And fight

You’ll laugh until that’s you

And that cop has his knee on your Irish ****** neck

You’ll laugh until you don’t

When the ******’s the cop

And he’s on top

Don’t laugh

Until it’s war

And your fighting for blood

Ready to die

And ready to rest in the land

And send your enemy to Hell

Don’t laugh about the death of a man

While you still shop at the store

Just around the corner

We are still civilized now you know

And that could still be you

And that cop

And in the sky
Floats all the breath
Of every man who has ever lived
Or ever died
Pasted onto the pale blue wind
Sometimes raining
Sometimes shading
But always and forever there

My pen is my saxophone

Played loud and lonely

In the night

Tunes of sorrow and joy

Running like honey

Singing sweet songs

Brass and breath

Heart beat and pen

Leaving languishing notes

Trailing in the dark still of night

I'm riding the line
Smokin' rubber
Squealing tires
120 in the middle of the night
As fast as I can go
Into dark curves
Seen only
By the double yellow line
I can smell the engine burning
But I can't slow it down
Smoke
Smoke
And no fire
But I'm ridin' the line
With no where else to go
In the middle of the night

He thought he won the race
Until they moved the finish line
To a cold November Day
With a small crowd gathered
Crunching winter gravel under their feet
Whispering hushed pain to one another
On the cold and frosted green

One moment of twisted sight

Fading noise,and dimming light

Dreams to end, mouth agape

As hope and life turn to night

Fading,fading,fading

All away

Until darkness quickly

Rules the day

Poor Larry Worley

His world turned topsy turvy

Didn’t have a clue to the crime

A wife with knives

And ******

On her mind

Laid poor Larry

On the sod for all time

Gone but not forgottrn

Poor Larry Worley

His wife’s hair all curly

Was stabbed over 21 times



Sorry to see you go Larry. Godspeed my friend

When will it end?
Plague blown on panic wind
To fall on man and dirt the same
Dust and droplet in fogging haze
To end perhaps
Perhaps in shame
As fools fly to evade
Ever comes the big charade
The show, the tent
The acts unfold
Bought and paid
With tickets sold
By men of means
To foster all their evil deeds

When the pale blue sky

That blankets the gulf

Turns rippling red

In orange hue

And thunder rumbles

Without abate

To the shelter!

To the shelter!

Before it’s too late!

Steel doors and canned goods

All below ground

Tuck and cover and pray

You don’t hear the sound

Is the world that insane?

How far have they Gone?

Say another prayer

And hope you see dawn

Soon the country will cry as I do
And their tears will fall like rain
But they won't dance in dry dust
To feed the thirsty green
They will fall on bloodied streets
And on freshly filled in graves
Rivulets to rivers
Growing in the rage
'Til torrents flood and bridges fall
And all is washed away

My lungs breathe cold earth
I am Still
Beneath the roots and moist soil
I am dead
for now
At least
To you
Buried by your words
And cold hate
I am chilled
Under the weight of the clay
White and unmoving
And to you
That way I will stay

Winter has come

And

The rain grows colder

The days are short

And

Darkness comes to dinner

Cold surf

Cold wind

But tomorrow

The sun

Will be back again

Passion unbound

In forbidden love

Lust spilled and love found

In the cold tile hall

Beneath the stairwell

No walking here

Not for now for sure

Passion and skin

Beneath the stairwell

The dead don’t hear you

While they lay in the grave

Their parts done

‘Til the end of days

Sometimes you call

And sometimes you cry

But the dead don’t hear you

No matter how hard you try

They’re dead and gone

So let them go

Cold and and bone

In the dark down below

And now it's here

In rippling current

Spread in waves and moving torrent

Soft wind spreading

Slowly moving

Pollen

Pollen

Yellow

Floating

germinating

Strains

O­f disaster

Breeding swollen fruits of death

By the bushel

By the basket

Breathe

Breathe

Breathe

Breed

I have become the hard earth

Uncaring of toil

Clay without thought

Cold and unforgiving

To drown the roots

Clog the shovel

Dry and become stone

To hammer and chisel

Earth, Earth

I have become

Earth

Rack the slide

And drop the round

Here it comes

It’s going down

Voting day

Every way

From the rooftops

And In the streets

Pack the courts

Then run like rats

Pack the courts

No going back

“Let me be clear”

He declared

“Nothing is off the table

For next year”

You have said it

You have said it

Pack the court

Echoes from the past

Bounced off of dim

Tobacco stained walls

Make their way

Into my room

Pastel green and blue

Mute the sound

Of Poker chips and laughter

Chairs scraping the floor

Clinking and choking

Din and loudness

In the fading distance

Drifting to sleep

Makes me

Just as happy

As the room full of family

It chases the darkening night

And childhood fear

Like whispering smoke

Breathed from the dragons ’round the table

Downing whiskey and stories

Laughing

Not knowing

But singing sweet lullabies

In the dark

Singing down the hallway

Sweet goodnight

Echoes from the past

Bounced off of dim

Tobacco stained walls

Make their way

Into my room

Pastel green and blue

Mute the sound

Of

Poker chips and laughter

Chairs scraping the floor

Clinking and choking

Din and loudness

Makes me

Just as happy

As the room full of family

It chases the darkening night

And childhood fear

Like whispering smoke

Breathed from the dragons ’round the table

Downing whiskey and stories

Laughing

Not knowing

But singing sweet lullabies

In the dark

Singing down the hallway

Sweet goodnight

It was a brief respite

From the hard work

And harsh horrors

Of the daily routine

It was the warm comfort of home

Steaming into the cold night

Wraiths of scent and flavor

Drifting through the enemy air

It was Shared ’round low fires

That reflected off the rolled wire

Glinting like stars in the darkness

Amid the raucous din of the mess tent

The clank of tin cups and mess pans

Replaced that of rolling treads

The rumbling death

That hunted down the small groups of men

Praying under the Aspen

Laughter, that medicine so rare

Played like wind through the camp

And peace for a moment was here

The food, always to be remembered

Was the only reminder

That they were still men

For a night

If only for a night

They could sleep

Dedicated to my Father Lee Roy Jarrett, 359th Co. engineers U.S. Army, 1941-1946

That child of my youth

Lies now in her bed

As she always did

Covers pulled up to keep her warm

But she is thin and frail

As she was as a young girl

The safety of the bed though

Evades her

As it always did

The things underneath

Still haunt her

And have become real

Those shadowed horrors from below

Have come to claim her

Tubes are snaked like vines

Around her

Invading her

Covering her like an ancient ruin

Finding every crevice to crawl into

A young woman

Now old

The road maps on her skin

Traced not by time and experience

But by tragedy and chance,

Cruel blows that glanced

From her guarding arms

She will never know laugh lines

Burned into her skin by a million smiles

Those smiles will never come

They will only be bitter sweet ones

smiled by us

As we talk about old times

Laughing into the night

With worn grins

And Tired eyes

And the lines will be etched

Into our faces instead

What we measure in decades

She measures out in minutes

Hours are years

And days stretch into decades

Every moment is now measured into a cup

Metered and parceled

On a glowing monitor

The poor girl who never had a chance

Still doesn’t

And never will

It is such a shame

She is such as a sweet girl

And she has such soft hand

We bleed liberty

Her lifesblood

Spattered and pooled below

Grasping reason reaches

In vain

To understand

The meaning of the pain

With weakened limb

And fading brain

Quickly darkening sight

Closes in

And

She succumbs

Without a sound

And fades away

It's Ireland for the Irish

Eire 'Til the end of days

When the rain falls in Ireland

It falls on Irish Graves

From Dublin Pale to the troubled lands

Every inch's been been bought and paid

By Irish love and Irish blood

And sacrifice ever made

It's Ireland for the Irish

Eire to the end of days