Twould be incumbent upon you to frequently test whether your 'friendships' are true or if you're merely a rung on their ladder to success  ....

Stoic hardwood
O '  the despair thou has witnessed
Tyranny begetting forgiveness
Brilliant dreams beaten into indifference
Winters of anguish
Summer vegetable banquets
The conformity of Fall , Springs
April thaw
Loves , lives , their mourning , their passing
Weathered footsteps , beside a corporeal reductive homestead amassing thought and sadness*...

My New Years Eve predictions and predilections revolve around my Manzanilla olive addiction
Salty fruit soaked in wicked good , cold Beefeaters Gin
Sending tipsy resolutions off into the wind* ...

As silence is magnified
So sound taken for granted-
undergoes instant amplification
Every nerve tuned to 440 hertz
A note encapsulating every word
Hammering a barre chord , bringing
the world to order , defying previously established borders* ..

My teenage guitar playing was a caterwauling wildcat in a feedback induced search for the cackling daemon Raum
Dad never made me turn it down* ...

The ten o'clock hour on Sunday nights was made for mystery and blistering works of imagination and hardline poetic reality .. For the fifty and above , writers that have felt the fire and burdened their share at the crux of painful sentiment , walked the streets of purgatory on many a lonely night and lived to tell it about .. People that can pick out hidden meaning from ******* , that know the difference between love and tantric *** , ones that have learned to hide their cotton candy soul within a steel resolve , writers with bone dry eyes and little time for Friday night teenage angst wannabe jargon !

The chatter of wrens , bluejays & warblers
The statuesque heron beside the still waters
Dragonflies make a loud living in the cattail brush
A red & white bobber is 'tickled' before dancing-
across a cattle pond in the noon hush ...
A 'shellcracker' in the bucket
A spinner in my pocket
An angler with a hunch
A bream away from lunch ...

The patter of rain
Scrubbing storm drains , exposing
pain , creating explanations for -
insanity , revealing dark vanity
Droplets to the beat of any love song -
on the mind , streaming characters -
from another time , perusing empty -
houses , walking parks at twilight ,
looking down before streetlights
Just water .. A shower unlike any other ,
an example before young lovers , tokens of -
forever are a cover , candles o'er the lakes -
capsize then die , the widow is inconsolable -
for a short while with the continual tap-tapping of rain -
tonight

A 'dream of dreams' to 'kick it' along the ocean ..
To travel familiar shores at daybreak
To explore blue mysteries in-
free fall symmetry
To glide the Summer winds
Set sail into a lovers twilight moon -
where seaside imaginations swoon
Bound for Neptune's lair -
with the sound of seagulls -
in thick , salty air
To rest atop sandbars , buoys and-
rooftops
A photographers muse
The musicians newfound melody
The painters inspiration
A poetess's play on words
O , to partake in the pelicans world ..

Hysterical Robins coerce the midday sunshine ,
What bedevilment and gaiety fosters in Springtime
Teeming kingdoms under leaf cover , mistletoe , Angel hair ,
powder filled breaths of mystical warm air ..
Mischievous Pucks running amuck , locking eyes with
a Centaur 'neath the tall Pine , a shy Sprite up high , blowing good wishes unto you and I ... A whimsical Raccoon giving a good belly laugh , a tickled turtle cat-napping in the sawgrass ..Old Mister Maple telling tall tales of Lemonade oceans , powdered sugar beaches and Gingerbread whales  .

I've one 'battle tested' , authentic friend ..
My shadow ..

If scientist could harness the energy
expended over a football game an apply
it to the hunger crisis* ...

I consider myself indebted to incalculable probability , allotted a brief stint upon this miracle dubbed Earth..
Blessed with eyes that perceive far beyond abstract form and color , pupils that recognize each human emotion , casual glance or smile aimed in my direction .. Ears that detect the intricacy of classical compositions , miraculously discern laughter from tattered speech , a cry of joy from a call for help ..
The aroma of raging conflagrations distinguished from chimney smoke , hot meals or Pine forest from honeysuckle and rose petal .
A plethora of gustatory charms committed to memory .. Wisteria within the tempestuous breeze , a kiss on the cheek , butterscotch ***** to a spot of tea ..
Arms that have cradled grandchildren , plowed Spring fields till sundown , crossed cool Piedmont streams , cut firewood and all manner of farm labors . Laden with Summer harvest , performing guitar melodies on late Summer evenings ..
Recording my observations with the eye of a poet , from the invocation of mankind's document , a penned treatise of my beloved Georgia ..

Draw hither golden blade , brother to sassafras and veronica
Purveyor of delicate , sanguine architects in pastoral visage
Of ebony cloth cooling evergreen shadows within -  
Rosin incense , spearmint infused morning dew seasoning
o'er felled timber escarpments , Summer rain infusions of
petit , lavender violet corsage and August whimsy
Petrichor , Persimmon Clover bouquets , juvenile , song filled
brook-sides , poetic diamond studded sandbars , Chattahoochee
Crayfish , Shellcracker , Blue Heron land of Creek and Cherokee
fathers
Of Towaliga , Bear , Moccasin , Indian streams
Emerald swept low country isles , songbird arbors , peridot waterways
beside whitewashed shoreline* ...

Call me the artistic balloon sailing creativities breeze
My beloved Mary Ellen , the string tethering the dreamer
to realities moorings* ....

Proverbs marked with turkey feather , whiskey induced stillness .. Calloused , arthritic hands locked in the pang of yielder ..I am the chaff carried away in the Fall current .. A field harvested ..

Tradespeople are the crickets that choose to swim the perilous water -as opposed to circumnavigating the pond ..

O' juniper , lovely juniper I love you so
Why you intend to **** me I'll never know* ..

Throwing daisies into Crystal Lake
Feeding Pekin Ducks , smoking blueberry blaze
Relishing quiet time with my friends , the
water striders and Trumpeter Swans , elder
passersby waving from the roadway ....
Chewing tangy grass , collecting runaway
thoughts on a Renoir masterpiece kind of day...

I'm making faces at my own reflection
Eating toll house cookies , acting
like a monster on brittle knees ,
watching Nickelodeon for the first time
in years , turning sugar cookies into
Christmas trees ..
Watching every leaf spiral , then slowly
light upon the ground , taking in the
outside world with the eyes and ears of a child* ..

I am a pilgrim of divine , rugged convocations with my maker . Longing to trek the swaying fields of Newfoundland ..
At the rock encrusted deliverance with countenance eastward , overlooking the living waters of Norse legend , with mirrored thoughts of exploration and homeward voyage .

Remarkable , the guile of migratory
birds for they willingly travel home by memory alone
The diligent October wasp with certain death
awaiting behind some unmarked door
The sunlit , short shimmering life of piedmont morning
dew brought to prominence by it's eventual killer
The curve of the Earth indignant to the lurid passing day
Morning Glory swan song riddler , April flurry Winter bereft
The resolute breaker commanding the shore with it's
dying breath

The creek partitioned the fertile lowland
The river-road split the pasture land above
The Conestoga linked the east with their western kin
But the railroad divided men by the color of their skin

Aspiration abounds in the silvered , drizzly days of December
With mournful dove that find banquet within my yard , below leaf barren Cottonwoods standing proud as if on guard
For every grain of sand secure in life's spiral purpose
For the communities that teem on the rain plashed surface

My quest for rain has ended
Let it be wisdom falling in -
wind driven sheets across -
a parched landscape
May the thirsted be filled
The vile carried to sea
Barren fields born anew
May the righteous be left to prosper* ...

Mosquito larvae dance to the surface for air
Brown leaves decay submerged , cracks begin
to show in their part of this Earth ,
potential catastrophes not unlike my own
The struggle to carry on world
To reconcile the temptation for wealth
with the reality of struggle and hardship
To wistfully garner understanding from some remote rain filled urn* ....

The east appeared with gleam , sweetish and balm
Convective , white light did shine upon the fallows
Hayfields became lambswool , brown thrashers sang of rainbows , of life principle bestowed resurgent , appeased , arable piedmont cropland , genuflect before the bluest of blue , before the mother of cloudburst , upon the gray toned and the disturbed , the humbled stricken tenders of the lowland barrow within the earshot of crackling cane , across the froth of over washed brookside , oak liquor tipping the surface of pooled hollows , wire grass laid to rest among yearling pine and sycamore

A trillion lights bid hasty reflection
The bowed following preordained paths to
cardboard suburbia , under jet fuel rain , gnashed
in misery , some oxycontin follower , worshippers of Herod , rock ***** payback in five dollar denominations
A trick , a spittle of ***** in a ladle drawing gold from a coat pocket
Like a child's first snow , the learners license , naked in city lake
Kings with chewed teeth , bottom feeders in search of a vein , convenient Christ for **** and Jane , peanut butter for crustless sandwiches and taxed brains
Anarchy dreams , Presidential schemes , Syrian children burnt beyond
recognition , American pregnant teens , what would Jesus do ?
He's left us to our own devices* ...

Naive are the birds that fly , running from a scarecrow , Psychodelic ******* man , he's gunning for a hero , don't mind letting go , from my perch this evening , crashing into Heaven , ****** like St. Stephen ... Fly into print , ignite fuel , **** crow , will crow Babylonian capitulation .......

I eat red meat an 'yardbird'
I've been known to waylay -
a bottle of good scotch
Chattanooga Chew tickles my
fancy , doctored brownies -
are just Jim Dandy
I'm all for a ******* Barrel rocker
A Martin guitar , an American car
Whitman and Sandburg , Pink -
Floyd an Hendrix
Red wire grass  , quiet country
ponds and evening bullfrogs* ...

At this stage in my life I'm about as complicated as a piece
of chalk , and looking forward to continued peace of mind ..

When the 'Canadians' return to the countryside in November ,
morning gaggles will fly right by my very window !
Off for a break on the banks of Port Lake , to rest a spell from their
arduous travel , to stretch their wings , collect their thoughts and get a few winks !
Up in the morning for a quick 'Dixie Breakfast' then back to the business
of travel along the river .. Cruising down the Chattahoochee with a brief rest stop in Columbus , then back to 'The Blue' , nonstop and bound for home in warm , serene Florida ...

It is my sincere pleasure to inform you of the return of the Robins to Hill Country .... Stately , regal birds they are , with a dark gray coat and a breastplate of burnt orange ... Telling tall tales of their Winter quarters ,
blessing my backyard by the veritable hundreds ..
Dining voraciously on earthworms and grasshoppers , sifting through the
grass like diligent window shoppers .. Singing sweet melodies and carrying on conversations , 'tis a great blessing indeed to have them home from vacation ...

Cherry , huckleberry , and peach Indian summer bouquets
glide across honey- brown sugar loam
They rattle , crackle and dance at the cue of fragrant ambergris winds , gather in splendid sheltered havens , attending by cackling red-winged mavens
Sing to me airborne madrigals , Cooper angels , Pileated conductors of the oakwood , choreographed lapping lakesides , the scrub of White Pines
Land of the pumpernickel shadows , of cinnamon needle carpet
cast adrift in the very breath of artist , lover and songster* ..

A punctilious artistic muse in the guise of a butterfly  
Mirth and mystery at every perch , charged by
the 'vernal electricity of this earth' .. Traversing magnetic byways , filling migratory skies , retracing long held accustomed paths , challenging the predatory countryside ..
Color the remaining fragments of Springtime  
Filling the panoramic view of forenoon with multitude and wonder
Busy Monarch , winged pilgrim of the afternoon , intent for the
Summer grassland , fly by day into night on your scheduled journey southward old friend ...

The cabin on the river was empty during the week ,-opened like clockwork on Friday at six !..  Continuous card games , five card stud , five card draw , home brewed beer and painters **** , brought in Mason jars and cooled in " the ***** ." Milk jugs reflecting by the light of the moon , trot lines baited with chicken liver , blood bait and all sort of rank concoction ! Breakfast and dinner , placed at the gate on South River Road , delivered by family members , volunteers bringing the feast to the smokey lodge , where Poker never ceased from Dusk till Dawn ! Aroma of Pipe tobacco , cigarettes and cigars . Red man , Levi Garret , Chattanooga Chew , Johnny Walker Red , Jim Beam and Southern Comfort ! Men talked loud with shine running through their veins , laughing all night , I could hear them a half mile away ! Some would get so drunk that they bathed in the river , some would get bored , shoot liquor bottles and beer cans ! I could tell a thousand stories about that cabin , good and bad , some struck it rich , some left empty handed ..Never heard a word about the cabin during the week , men would look puzzled , shrug their shoulders , like it didn't exist !

Dove on the palisades
Answering questions regarding
a storms direction , about rust colored grassland leaning east , sweet gum cones dropping from the mother tree
We are moving forward together with weakness hidden and exposed
Electrical particles temporarily en masse to be released at physical death
Screaming with ever higher velocity , an instrument in the hands of virtuosity
Timpani rumble across the Indian river
The thirst for life quenched in laden tears , slivers
of our eternal carriage drawing closer* ...

The mound is disturbed
The ants are perturbed
They're off to re-establish -
familiar trails , hopefully , dutifully and without fail
Biological robots that fumble an mumble , gripe and grumble
Chemical cues of hunger and -
order
They stop for breakfast to mingle -
and loiter
Rebuilding the castle brick after brick
Bound for the forest stick upon stick ...

The "High Road " is filled with -
self righteous , regulated , trembling vehicles
Horns blaring with fear of -
the unknown
I need to speak with the -
man that robbed the bank
The pyromaniac that burnt the -
forest
The self proclaimed artist -
expressing himself in a medium of -
his own feces
The stray covered in fleas ,
the addict writhing in need ,
the homeless nurturing their
pets , the young renouncing
the government* ..

Shining garland with engraved golden bells .. Blue , red and silver packages wrapped with great care ..
Shimmering pine cones and toy drums , green  , white and yellow ornaments , glowing stars and tinsel accouterments ...

A white snowy blanket at her base , round and square presents with beautiful bows and delicate lace ..
Persimmons and oranges , a bowl of assorted nuts , hot apple cider , candy canes and egg nog ...

Christmas music and shimmering lights , the sound of mourning doves outside our window on this special night ....
A glowing testament to love stands tall
May the joy of the holiday season follow you all year long !!

Playing life's jazz with fingers on a tabletop  ,
Tilting the balance between the carefree and non-sensical
with whimsical raven feathers of thought ..
The curator of his minds pale luminosity , foregoing
the feast of worldly carrion for a few bits of droll grain ,
god ****** this drudgery labeled mortality ..

Be not concerned regarding -
the future of your loved ones
For every whisper of wind and grain -
of sand has its purpose , each drop of -
rain enroute to a kindred ocean ...  

Bluebirds are connected with the placid mill pond , the thrashers are at peace with sparrow songs
Our days trapped in flesh shall cease
The day will come when we are called to the light , high
above the morning sycamores , the maples and the evergreens ,
highly charged with every hope , wish and dream
Entwined in eternal astral schemes

I was Satan in the House of
God , Custer before his final enemy ,
a candle before the storm ,
a young boy trapped in nettle and thorn

Avian flautist perform in golden canopies , dandelion fairies ride -
springtide breezes high above a meandering , rushing , brown water symphony
The dance of the Blue darters , of the iridescent pirouetting ballet , the birth of a thousand greenwood songs , nature delivering her poetic morning alms
I lie in repose , filled and intoxicated
In burgeoning sunlight , within magnificent shadow , in the centerpiece of living , ever expanding shape and hue* ...

I've laid my head on silken pillows , my body rested upon fine Carolina frames , a mahogany bed canopy of soft linens fit for an Emperor , highly polished hardwood floors , wormy Chestnut table tops and Tiffany lamps ... But no set of furniture in the world will bring comfort , nurture and more downright , simple pleasure than a Traditional Wooden Rocker beneath a mature Weeping Willow ...

The evening winter sky panel resembles the stained windows
at the Methodist Church
Though I dare not enter I'm sure it's a beautiful
place
Awe inspiring like the first light of day upon my
face , the morning view from a hillside home place
The ringing bells on Sunday morning chime like a
Stratocaster with a touch of chorus
I wonder if they have a guitar somewhere behind the pulpit
The Baptist Church has a picker I've been told
Avoiding religion religiously ensures that I will
never really know* ..

Welcome to the snow globe world where happy faces are bundled up with heavy Winter coats and red scarves , Snowmen with pinecone buttons wave to passersby touring the town in Model-T cars ! Country air filled with magical , old world chapter scenery , frosted gingerbread homes and gum drop bridges ...
You and I are most certainly one of a kind , individual snowflakes , our sails filled with welcoming air , gliding through picture perfect settings without a care , excited with the promise of each gleeful morning , sipping on hot chocolate , eating sugar biscuits and raspberry tarts ...
Counting our blessings and learning our lessons , climbing tall trees ,
buzzing like honeybees , playing with friends , praying for sweet days to never end ...

If I knew death as a close friend
I would walk into gunfire
I would dive the greatest ocean depth without trepidation
Stand fearless before the night
Offer my flesh as a living sacrifice
before my enemies
I would graciously step into eternity
without entreaty before 'kings'

Gulf winds , carve thy signature across the open plains ...
Unto granite exposures , across the mighty Water Oaks of antiquity ..
Carry thy burden across Appalachian hills , over sandstone shore
and cotton field ...
Hold rare flocks of Starling in thy sured grasp and nurturing ways , usher the cool winds of Autumn on brilliant October days ...
Bring forth the scented air of Gardenia and Magnolia , the pollen of Chestnut Tree and Peach blossom ...
Calm the farm fires of November with captaincy and vigor , return Mother Georgia in May to her lush ,  Summer splendor ....

Where the city spills into the sea  
Where amber lights reach o'er the invisible waters
God is saving blue ocean and sunshine for tomorrow
A miracle for the sinner , to touch the heartbroken ,
for wayfarers in the throes of falling , for his forgotten
In turbulent upheaval striking the sea wall
For the receivers , the wallowing and the swallowed* ...