She came first in a dream
when I was fifteen. Yes,
she was the fire of ecstasy and her first licks
set my world aflame.
She's a shape-shifter, sometimes
fair and sometimes dark,
but always naked
when she comes.
She often whispers secrets
in the molten, swollen nights.
She even shows me jungles
and raging torrents down
where tom toms throb.
But when the morning breaks,
and I'm alone,
I struggle to remember.
Accordingly, I search the cities,
the far off mists and mountains
and the subterranean rivers
every burning day.
So it won’t surprise you to know
that where I mostly go to find her now
is under the volcano,
the place of endless fire.
It's where us dreamers and those demons
dance with our desire.

Mike T Minehan

Blue eyes, blonde hair, red lips, intense stare,
self doubt, dark soul, your eyes bore a hole,
hard kiss, quick ****, over fast, no luck,

leaving now, going home, so cold, so alone,
shiver shake earthquake, so unreal, so fake,
tears trickle down my face, so slow, quicken pace,
still there on the brink, another drug, another drink,
block you out, so numb, want to hide, want to run,

Far away, leave it all, the more i think, the more i fall,
Shut my mind, shut you out, feeling sick, full of doubt,
Too hard, you’re always there, look at you, try not to stare,
Fake smile, cold hello, nervous laugh, hard swallow,
little hope drains away, another moment, another day,

Time goes on, hope it heals, because I hate how it feels,
But for now, I crave your touch, I want you now, miss you so much.

were you a 50's
godchild in the city,
wing-tipped feet
running the streets
all week, ketchin hell...
then you gots that check
come friday
and needed a taste of heaven...

you and the dog pound
swung mid-town
to broadway & 47th
after 9,
and joined the line spilling
from the royal roost round 48th...

by 10, the joint was jammed
with gents well-coifed,
matching honeys, and the sounds
of money being made:

chime of silverware ~ cling,
and the cash register's ~ swish cha-ching,
and the chatter of guests,
servers and bartenders
doing their thing ~ wah da bing

then the lights dimmed
leaving a semi-dark haze
of gray smoke swirling
over the crowd,
and mc symphony sid
grabbed the mike:

"...welcome to the friday nite jam session
at the metropolitan bopera house
ladies and gentlemen...."

hysterical hoots and applause
followed
as  the circular spotlight paused
center stage,
unveiling:

~ the miles davis nonet ~

featuring,
max on drums,
john on keys,
gerry and lee on sax
and a genius
on trumpet

'twas the birth of cool
and soon the rhapsody
of modern jazz
waxed hypnotic,
casting a spell
over god's children
when budo chased lady bird
down allen's alley,
spittin'...
          riffin'....
boppin'...,
          po­ppin'.....
superfluidity
like acid through
varicosed veins

the earth stood still
it seemed
for 4 thrilling hours
as heaven rained a rifftide
onto the lucky crowd...

and dewey's sublime trumpet
exorcised the devil
from the week that was...

~ P (Pablo)
(7/24/2013)

she lived alone
by the little glass window
on the 12th floor
always open
seeing every color and stain
of urban life flashing below
across the courtyard

black, white, yellow, brown
and a redhead going down
the block for a ghetto special
4 chicken wings and fries

and fly uncle johnny
in his trench-coat and superslims
running paper slips to the bodega
on the corner of broadway and 5th

and little blues babies in ponytails
doing the double-dutch hustle
a skip and **** away
from motherhood

and radio raheems
peddling mix tapes, joints and conspiracies
to mis-educated teens
flashing silver grills, c's and black stones
under high-top fades and fro's

closing only for hurricanes
and ricochet bullets

permanently when one
caught miss helen in the eye

she lived alone..  

~ P
(7/8/2013)

~ dad said she'd be famous ~

"...a doctor
or diva
like lena horne," he said

he'd been doing odd day jobs
and driving cabs deep into the night
through  these mean city streets
since ella's debut
at the apollo

and his smile
grew wider than
jackie o's
reservoir in central park
when this bouncing baby girl
made her grand debut
into his world

the dimples on her
cherub caramel cheeks
were irresistibly pinchable

and those twinkling eyes
knew she'd be spoiled infinitely
like a fruit-fly in a box
of rotten apples

~ reality check ~

....if you look closely
you might still see one dimple;
but the twinkles departed
back in '75

....and the burns
on her fingertips
and blistered lips

....and the bones....
jutting  like the bones
of refugees and anorexics

....missing flesh

...and the tracks
on her forearms
and filthy jeans

.....and the eyes....
shifting like the eyes
of senators and thieves

....telling lies

.....and the rotting corpse
in a black garbage bag
in fresh kills

multiple choices removed
from the doctor
and diva of daddy's dreams

hijacked by dream-killers:
smack
      crack
  and addiction

~ P (Pablo)
(8/1/2013)

Oh,tiny specks of brownie,
Fallen over my bed spread,
Stop hiding under my pillow
And get off my bed.