Temporarily/ unfilled by my garden/
or a magician's trick/ hiding a quarter/
I did notice.

Contemporaries/ still on a theory trip/
fooled by sleight of hands/siding with
heads/I did.

Fortunately/ my quill has ink/
explains the endless supply/ of foolishness/
I write.

It all looks
   like sunrise
when drunk
   I see a full can
shimmer in
   the 60 watt
incandescent
    bulb
above my sink
   I rinse my *****
red eyes in.
     It seems like
all is special
       like I found
the end of a rainbow
   when I  have
five more dollars
    and food stamps
left
    or on the horizon
is the promise
      or a wink and sly
smile
    I believe or convince
me in *******
   hope
that it is real.

I gathered on my desk all were in my head
on my desk
I stood on my head and still
none were three-dimensional
So, asleep, I saw you again.

royalty to all us in the hood we knew her
as the renowned duchess,her fame spread all the way to New Brockton
and far as Troy, earned, was her renown by the best at her
trade and fairness in commerce.  For twenty dollars she would smile with
the best glamour as she flattered the less endowed, no matter.
She walked around like a midnight Covington ATM ,
give her one hundred she stayed all night, giving change.

watched three grey geese in a field fulled with wheat grazing
while Peter Piper pecked some Petunias
while Bitter Butter bit her lip gazing on the scene
of strangeness like writers on paper
wrapping alliterations softer than sleep
louder than firecrackers I had a dream.

have been drilled and driven pilings around
to strengthen my foundations
pumped out all my feelings
upon this world and have to be fracked for more
to get that last drop of
and give again!

the clear creek flows
through limbs green
forests **** me in
I climb upon the highest peaks to release
an echo
no one ever hears.

I fly to misty clouds
scream over dales
hear no voice returned
just a deep pass
echoes.

time upon time a tick
trespasses my ****** soils,
falling into emptiness,
count my days as lost as
never surrounds my shoulders
with hugs
or warm sweet lips.

drink down dreamer on
     let fluid flow
         apply shear stress
              to my plastic knowledge
fluid I contain and drown in
    I am obviously
          solid viscosity
              born dynamic.
See If I Am oblivious
    to a need to conserve energy
            i would flow
                 down bitter sweet.
I am statically
      neutron and positively
            ebbing and flows
                 down these wet streets.

I am created to let me
      fall from darkest sky
             turbulence, and whipping winds
                    tossed and turned.

breath
and breathe in what i have become
beneath a misery of make believe
as I hold all my torn breath to pieces
in
believing
edges of right and wrong delineated
by straight lines
are where I have tiptoed
and never fell over
with scared looking back eyes
I see I need more distance
and breath
from the lines.

one day being
   all I thought I saw
eye will one
   day see
me pause
   and be period.

wild blowing up my stem and through my  brittle
veins I flow off from home and let the earth recycle my remains
blow through the neighbors yard into the street a drunk abandon
man or leaf or scorpion or slug blows and following dies
turns first blue colored then in red then white
we all have given
all, once
green.

Mine was when I was four
I planted it on my mother.
I got slapped for it.
She was watching
a soap opera,
"one life to live"
I think, I saw the actor and actress
plant lips wide open.
I remember thinking,
that is how you do it.
I did.
****** man, why does this remain
in my thoughts?

mid of night
nor breaking day
not a star guiding
way

Nor any moon full
of madness
fools slide
away

gladly

If I Were
a fortune teller
I would see me getting rich.


If I were a drunk
I'd give a sip to my buddy, RJ.

If I were the God
I'd give Peace to all!

If I were me
I would try it all.

If I were a politician
or Police,
I would run!

If I were you,
I would blush!

we are engines
filters
carbon dioxide emitters
absorb fuel as
corn fritters or gruel
bodies sinew
sitting on tissues
wiping our exhaust pipes
with dollar bills, sometimes run
out then get stinking rich
on money or dope or ***** or hope or passion
or fun or lose ourselves  making gasss.
expect all the critters
to listen to  bow down
beasts of omission sometimes
then amazing machines issuing
grace and great feel
passion heats us to 98.6
then we get fevered
and cry.
Cleaving to
pity?
Or cleaning the
pipes?

until your heart feels full.
        feed the doves in the park
share your meager lunch
          morsels given- pull
the punches back,
            and take one on your chin,
if  a man you really are.
            Do one time one thing
to better another.
         Life is hard,
take a gut punch and
          remember
you are the toughest,
       and strength is
empathy.

head pop socks off led zeppelin playin'
right moves so smooth arms and legs movin'
in right ways and wrong
is nature's way of saying
hot is just ingrained, so
get plush grab a **** perfume passion
pull some hair
play coy or get tough
and I smell you as we
*** to a conclusion!

eyes written in metaphors could never
glow sparkle show a bit of her essence
you would have to see them

Her style in analogy is like trying to paint
the Mona Lisa with one brush
incomparable with any word

Yet I strive,  with every pen I have and every verb
to clarify how she is my life,
melting as I fail continuously.

Passion is all I can paint with brushes or description
limited to this earth.

just know
  eyes do
souls aside
  try lips
leave thoughts
   tears God
dream better
   take breaths

love life
    drink water
read voices
   say thoughts
see beauty
   memorialize
play kind
    silence

worry don't
   great small
look naked
   feel alive

if
        perchance
                               I were
                                           never
                                                      to
wake again, stayed forever behind
         rose
                                colored
                                           glasses,
never to open again these tired eyes
          I would
                                stare at
                                         the back of my
eyelids,
            forever.

a Bachelor of Arts in BS
and a backer with a million dollars-
See, I had this idea of opening this new concept in restaurants.
I am calling it Rent-A-Burger.
See , we got this microchip that will wirelessly send the GPS coordinates
of the swallower to PayPal and debit their account on the first of every month. It tastes like a pickle so we save money there, also.
Then with that fortune I want to open what I call Title ****,
which will specialize in loans to strippers,

they have only to give me a demonstrational lap dance for me to verify their assets.
It tickles me how so rich I will be.

I got several more ideas of expanding my empire
and getting laid.

Do I need to be a bit more careful when
uttering these three words?
             Or do
they say what I see the future is?
Where: I love you
is said with frequency across sexes
and borders and colors?
I love me!

when I enter Baskin-Robbins in the hood
so many flavors of sin
none good
for the  health of Ben or Jerry.

Where I get cussed at by those
behind me in the line
because I tarry in deciding,
I grin, step back, and say, ummmmm,

Then I cause vanilla freezes and strawberry cheesecake and rocky roads to melt as a twelve year old behind me in line
cusses like a sailor.

lines of reach are radio waved
touch is by text with calloused
index fingers.
Microwaves surround and direct us to go  where
we are going blue teeth phones we twitter
looking at thinner screens.
I quit. Need a twelve pack
and a dove sitting on wire
and free TV and a non- nuked
non- steroid and antibiotic genetic non- altered corn of cob
and leg of fried chicken and two good women.

disintegrate the million pieces
          arrange the memories again
the yellowing shards of reality
           into the myriads
tap a foot on the floor
          listen to a beat
of all the pieces
             like a cymbal shattering

wed on January !st, whenever, I forget.
    they honeymooned in West Virginia.
Like that mattered.
    They had four children.
All of them were named Lucky.

Dad was a cad
was my uncles brother
and not surprising was his
affinity for my mother.

It all came around full circle
when my dad quite apparently showed
affinity for my Aunt Martha.

They settled all of that quite
preposterously
by having a
family reunion on the
night before Thanksgiving.

I Imagine they all had fun.

Beauty grows on thorny stems
decay is beauty fertilized...
there remains those who
die feeding- upon those who died before.
Red is my favorite... my blood
relates to my intent-
to show
that life depends
on death.

the call went out I dialed with trembling fingers
the moment, when our eyes first met.
Rescue squads and EMT's were summoned,
police surrounded the scene with yellow tape.
Excited crowds looked on in disbelief.
Sirens straight out of Homer screamed.
Since that day, nine one one ignores
my calls!
They know I
am in love.

Out in no man's land
   sleeping in brier patches
unknown men and
     women sleep snatching a second
on beds of pine straw
      scrub oak leaves alone
with a mosquito or a cricket
buzzing a chirp so listen
                          to the      rain  a relief
like nature washes away
                                                grit
cold a constant enemy
                 or   companion
which is only a debate
                                 given now no admission

clouds are the furthest  thing , memories
are forbidden.
Sun is harsh and peace is gotten
when prayers are given
in a bottle  of gin
                           or one more hit.
                   And the big question remains-
     how in a land of plenty
so many are ignored
                               forgotten.

to a beginning no one has dug far enough or searched their souls long
enough
nor has been ever a man who lived as long as Moses, or caused more  doubts than Mephistopheles.
Don't get me wrong, I am religious, in a vaporous way,
I see apples as figs and floods as myths.
Reminisces cloud my atheistic thoughts. Day to day according to the sun shines
or cloudiness.
And steam rises from my breath, at times. When I feel so alone, and coldness closes around, I doubt  my doubts.
I seek God to speed healing when a loved one is in need.
I am first off, an honest hypocrite. I would sell my soul for Peace.
I see the new day, sometimes, kneel down in prayer.
My question remains as I say, Amen, for what.
And to whom?

once up on a season
  where blue moons glistened
an old oak leaned
   upon a hill above
where season has no ends.

I saw a grape as twisted            
I saw sharp gnarly stems
on this way and that
I existed never  believed in ending
.
Memory be told,  I forget much,
and so the story may be made up,
of how in a  bottle
I rubbed and drunk


and got my every wish.

pages of white
   with my heart
laid upon. outlive
   the hand that
did write you
    in blood
then be gone.
    Never yellow
nor fade
    nor lose any
trace of the
    songs I have
made with my
    heart, if not grace.

to write
the next line
word

any symbol

because
of infinite
possibilities


I write a few syllables

and see
too many that

need erasing.

good day,
     said the Daisy to the **** with a Morning Glory bow.
Hello, it is good! , returned the Nettle
        catching a ride on the Cattail.
Hi, everyone, said I, smiling.
    We are all up early again,
watching, the Sunflowers sleep in.

I have heard on the streets
I died. To my surprise, and theirs,
I sneak up on all of my acquaintances,
tap tap tap on their windows in the dark,
like a limb blown by the wind.
Creep through their smallest  cracks,
blow sweet nothings into their dreams and up their (?)
awaken, they do , to a fleeting ghost.

there are times the sun shines glittering
on **** holes.
rain sometimes falls
on saints.

Good to see you healthy and about! How does the carp dream go?
If I were wealthy, I too would build a fish farm where Saudis and Donald Trump might go to
cast a line if I could but dream like A liar, too!

you left me, valentines with no candy nor flowers
fluttered free into the universe with my anniversary
on your lips
flowing free as a waterfall into a mist
gazing continually in your shimmer
left me with wetness and empty hands
a sweet fragrance on the pillow
I burned yelling.

are words
    never invented - the vastness
of letters all twenty six
are not many to convey
        how vast clear a blue sky can be

nor deep the depth
       no homonym exists
the antonym is not found in a dictionary
or Thesauraus and will never be

to describe in fullness
      the heart or truth
existing on Mother's Earth
though, the Bard, was close to seeing.

I once awoke, with another tongue,
composed in my head a rhyme,
       of purest gold
never seen before  a tome
of time and me.

But, my words, were composed of letters
from an alphabet not yet invented.
      I could not write them down.
I sleep all the time, now,
me.

I am a gingerbread
   sweet tangy ******* head
addicted to making
   marmalade sunsets
playing funeral organs
    cooking grass
on my BBQ
     I stir with
olde english
     marinade with you
on a bed of roses
     on our hill
growing wild sassy
          cooking stews
of parsnips wild onions
     marmalade you and
the morning dew.

My glass will be half full
  half empty 'til

one day when I spill my last
   drop wasted

not on tenderness nor on
    battlegrounds

I will succumb with a broken heart
   numb

from the frequency I have spilled
    my need

to only have my gratuities
   taken

for granted or weakness
   by those I tried

to love.

or everywhere
my soul will when one day
go,
one day,
unknown,
my soul will see
its destiny.

candy I stare like a kid
   suddenly remember I am eighty-four
no longer need nor can handle those tastes.
   A young sweet walks past, god how I remember
what I would have said back in '54.
   I look into the candy store window again,
move my dentures a tad with a tongue,
   too old too  decrepit to ever taste again,
I say, to a young man near,
   remember to brush your teeth.

Two roads submerged in yellow ale
And wobbly I traversed both, (tried to)
And I was weeble wobble until I fell down
looked three eyes bleary
to where I fell into undergrowth;

Then took another ****,
and having perhaps a sprained colon
because was a ditch and I was drunk.

Though as I passed out there
And had really fallen the same (as yesterday)
And woke the next morning, my face covered
in green leaves and ale.

Oh, kept pace with yesterday. I get used to routine.
I tell this with a sigh
somewhere ditches since (where?)

A drunk diverged in a wood
And I were him
again.
That makes no difference.

I wrote a dream while I slept
immortal
woke to nothing while I rushed
to this pen and paper.
A poem, a dream is fleeting.

willows weep at the doorstep of a ravine
back home, where I grew up,
a long time ago in Michigan
Cardinals and Redheaded Woodpeckers commonplace
Cherry trees
Mulberries
my favorite grew ripe and sweet,
better than cherries, then.
As the valley creeps away in my memory
the magenta berries remain
in my head.

at this o'clock
are you this hour
the big hand barely moving as I stared
at it
the little one goes round and round dizzy
and still I have four more hours
'til
I jump out that small door
calling coo coo

is the answer?
or maybe?
or?
tell me what would you
say?
I hate to disagree.
So I agree even to disagree,
with a flexible
spine.
Mine is
of a yessir priority,
under wearing nothing not a thing,
I go off wondering,
how I got
here?