glimmer in the peripheral
     memories dance in a foggy mist
ghostly images swirl
      escaping distinction
offering instead
                 confusing blurred faces
creating long forgotten stirrings
    past-life occurrences
        mingle with childhood fantasy
       sending an over-active imagination
           running wild……
I violently shake my head
     to free myself from
        cobwebs and
          prevent myself from
                    being transported
                         ethereally
                                 off into space…..

I have work to do today!

Writing the Haiku
Maintaining seasonal  joy
Summer and the like

The Autumn turns leaves,
Feel myself turning too
White skin makes comeback

The joy of spring time
The warm sun and fresh green shoots
My own growth matches

Heat cooks the pavement stone
Summer sun knows no mercy
Must beat all life down

Slow death creeps steady
Winter with its icy breath
Colder than harsh words

The seasons bring joy
Each with its own mystery
I like spring the best

The Fall close second
Change is the lifeblood of man
Spring and Fall change most

thick ***** fingers wiped discolored sweat
off a forehead furrowed with concern and frustration
lifting the ball cap up and re-adjusting it
without it ever completely separating from the hair
and looking back into the irritant laid at their feet
in a flash of inspiration muscles twitched into action
and pieces began flying as if a swarm of locusts
caught the scent of fresh green shoots on the wind
and burst forth into a frenzy of wings and insect bodies
frantic in the movement a blur of activity became all anyone could see
silence fell upon the surroundings as the wrinkles smoothed
momentarily satisfied the project was set aside
with all the other pieces considered “finished”

heavy sigh escapes
minutes become lifetimes
eternity to infinity
and still I wait
to hold you near –
eyes cross with boredom
wishing even to need a toilet
but nothing breaks the monotony
but the passing thoughts
of your sweet embrace –
bad food sends a distended belly into fits of gurgle
slight sweat smell wafts down the corridor
2000 inmates pass by my wire-laden windows
their footsteps
pounding in my brain long after count has cleared
leave me longing for the quiet of our shared bed –
broken lead ends my distraction
giving me pause, long enough to sharpen my tool
thinking about what this moment brings in your office
or if you, also sit thinking of when we are together again –

I read some songs
written down
      by sweet Emily
they seemed to short,
                            and some to long
and none were best to me

I read each line
………….bated breath,
seeking for a sign
to my surprise
      and some dismay
                all she did was whine

using form
     meter and rhyme
can only      go so far
when your subject matter
                                              is so much sadder
than……. a shooting star

songs of death
…………….some of despair
lament and sadness; ad nauseam
I think more life
could be found
in a Roman coliseum…

but who am I
to take this stand
when she,         a master,                                  waits………….
I do not fly,
am just a man
      attempting to impersonate
               the greats

so pay no mind
and take no heed
                         as your legacy is safe
even if
for me, personally
……
……
……
you make my eyeballs chafe –

To my surprise,
a little scrub jay
lit near me

its blue head
faded into the blue sky
and I thought to myself,

“Everything IS a hologram.”

watery eyes blur after a yawn
unwelcome images play in the saline
chawed hands elongate
feeling tugged as the shadow calls
thoughts trail into thin tendrils
smoky whips of nonsensical incoherence
unfinished ideas void of flesh
waltz merrily with lost lovers
and screaming banshees
stretching and shaking cobwebs loose
only the hum of discontent lasts
alone with complacency
intellectualism flees
bad ideas pepper
only a single option remains
time to get the **** outta here /

I heard a bird swoop from down on high
And call my name with glee
Asking me to come along and fly
Soar beyond the deep blue sea
To a land of love, warmth and peace
The family all awaits
Only one small thing, your breathing will cease
But come now, t ’is your fate
You’ve long out-used this mortal coil
And wear thin your loved one’s nerves
No longer must you sweat and toil
Be free, it is what you deserve
I cocked my head to consider the wing
And what it was he said
Why is this the message that you bring
Would you like to see me dead?
The tiny feather chuckled with might
And offered just this reply
“what if I said, with zero delight,
that this was the night that you die”
I stomped and cursed, swore and cried
Pleaded with him for my life
His head only shook and softly sighed
As he looked over at my wife
She needs another chance to really some find joy
And be done with your sickness and pain
Out in the world is the perfect ole boy
To bring her delight and refrain
From your nonsense and worry
Irrational fear
Make the choice, hurry
While the sky remains clear
I looked at the birdy and back to my love
Knowing not what to do
Closed my eyes and turned into a dove
And flew off into the blue –
I had been tricked and fell so far
Crashing to the ground below
I made a wish upon a star
To see my children grow
I prayed and pleaded to the sky
Asking the Christian god for a hand
Then I remembered that i could fly
And soared above the land
Only lightly touching down
On a field of flowers so red
All way still besides the sound
Of her sleeping next to me in bed –

soft and pasty
white freckled skin entices
encouraging my hand
to stroke and rest upon
a perfect thigh –
my eyes caress each natural curve
as I take in
a vision of loveliness
gifted to me
by a loving and gracious universe…
and I am thankful –
hypnotic notes tickle my ear
as she speaks of the day’s trivialities
I am smiling, completely enraptured
knowing full well
man can experience love…
if only he is open to the moment –

What if……


               our curse

                          is to witness



the earth




                                     die –

She showed me my own heart
And gave me peace of mind
I knew we would never part

Right from the very start
We were two of a kind
She showed me my own heart

Unlike putting the horse before the cart
I had a paper to sign
I knew we would never part

I fell for her like with a tranquilizer dart
Stuck straight into my spine
She showed me my own heart

From our first walk through the grocery mart
Our arms intertwined
She showed me my own heart
I knew we would never part

slight depression in the pavement
allows mild precipitation to congregate
molecules, naturally excitable, join
lost in the reflective properties
I see the clouds flow to the east
altering form, elastic in the wind
brown leaves twirl and fly
oak ballerinas dance gracefully  
lighting ever-so gently
atop my perfect mirror
distortion and ripples change the mood…
I toss up my collar
and walk into the dingy yellow walled prison
Friday has finally come –

Her long delicate fingers took my hand
Then she looked me right in the eye
She was the perfect one for me according to the universal plan

Figuring out what it takes to be a man
Work hard, be home, and never lie
Her long delicate fingers took my hand

Taking out the garbage, filling the recycling can
Making sure to buy two-ply
She was the perfect one for me according to the universal plan

Scanning the horizon, looking across the land
Thinking about my desire to fly
Her long delicate fingers took my hand

We made the commitment with a tattooed band
Watched my mother start to cry
She was the perfect one for me according to the universal plan

For this life and the next, from wind and rain to sand
Ours is a love that will last after we die
Her long delicate fingers took my hand
She was the perfect one for me according to the universal plan

metallic edger grinds the concrete
sending sparks askew
offering trenches for rain rivulets
and a break from the monotony
of the cold impersonal sidewalk
granting a distinctive separation
from the well-manicured lawn
just adjacent –
wide brimmed hat hides a sweaty face
darkened upper sleeves show
the land of lost perspiration
the official ‘wipe-zone’
for the landscape technician
paid by the contract
not many how many hours it takes –
she peeks out from behind lacy drapes
gazing at the most forbidden of fruits
longing to feel rough hands
with skill and delicacy
create new designs upon her landscape
show her the care and patience
she has watched him bestow
on so many flowerbeds
maybe one day…..her bed –
fleeting images of stolen kisses
and soft embraces
dance across her mind’s eye
when at once the rattle
of a rusted out and dented pick-up
travels slowly down the driveway
leaving her lost in lamentation
longing for next Tuesday –

It turns out


cows

will be the
death


        of mankind.

~




writhing
               reptilian bodies…….....


aren’t we    randy




                                                                                       maybe it’s me!   /

at the moment of our birth

       a prediction about our death is made

                                and it always
            
                                                 comes to pass –

someday, maybe I will be fully integrated
I see so many posts about trolling
and hate filled messages
individuals attacking art
for the sake of meanness
and bully status –
I sit on the sidelines waiting
a monster in the deep
so much rage and hostility just seething under the surface
and yet,
no one awakens the beast
I receive only kindness and pleasantries
I am beginning to think
I am only an observer here –
Reaching out, reading more
attempting to become, but alas,
I am older, harsher, and too opinionated
to be part of the fun
left out of the dark side
of Hello Poetry –

exacting pressure
parchment paper
rosin escapes
and pools
puddled tricombs
and medical molecules
lay like orange juice
fresh-squeezed
waiting restlessly
to be placed en masse
onto the awaiting enail
vaporization and inhalation
taste buds savor flavors
and the effects take hold
melting into the couch cushions
and considering the work day
I pull together another glob
and press it to the heated coil
breathing deep
my medicine of choice –

trickling slowly
as if a light rain were falling down
hand railing
time seems to stop and start
in fits and thrusts
pausing long enough to send shivers
and give the witnesses enough
fear
to feel assured in proclaiming
the apocalypse was upon us all –
I drew dry whiskey slowly
and swished it twice
along my upper gum line
and back along my cheeks
exhaling fire
and nodded……..
     I too was sure
            we were all to die –
a breeze passed
    that could have been a
butterfly in Indochina
or the spirit of a long dead
      moonshine runner
coyote calling in the darkness
     listening for an answer
                  of an all-clear

the night held us all
     near breathless
barely visible on the horizon
            a faint orange glow
                           where no town resided –

the sweetest lips and fairest skin
grace her face and I begin to swim
within the pool of blue, her eyes
for this love of mine there’s no disguise
I pause to think of her glance
am caught and trapped as in a trance
only freed when once her delicate song
brings me back to where I belong
feet rooted in soil so rich and dark
I sit thankful for the journey
                        for which I am to embark
‘tis this life we share that I write about
and the love we have for which there is no doubt
wishing only for this joy to be had by all
witnessing the tragic reality at the local mall
so many unhappy walking blindly through life
experiencing only hardship and strife
while us chosen few sit so high up above
because we trusted, had faith, and gained true love –

passover…..



why the ****

                     is this


                                        still



                                                        on



                                                                        the calendar?

wrinkled forehead and a passing sigh
the boy has given her reason for irritation
I watch the unfolding scene, helpless
everyone knows what it takes to get along
but the young free-loading adult
has yet to apply knowledge practically
so once again we find ourselves
bound by hostile energy
as raised voices and flailing extremities
become the new after work norm –
a soft kiss and passing pleasantries
are exchanged between us
prior to a kitchen visit
and bad feelings towards laziness
for its own sake…
his attitude and effort lacking
our anger and discontent growing
all the while I quietly pray
he gets it while we can still be friends –
another trip down the driveway
another day with a growing sense of dread
am I going to have to yell again
beg again
cry again
over what should be common practice
and not the fight that will have him homeless –
we sit on the bed discussing options
as we are unwilling to simply give up
blood ties and strong family bonds
mingle with tears of frustration
as we ask the question to the universe
for the umpteenth time,
“what can we try next?”
to get a 19 year old know-it-all
lazy ***
to be part of a functioning household
or at the very least
pay his own way –

the cat

     perched

waits

waits

waits



                    pounces

happening upon

a small     brook
                       fully in babble

I rested on moss, inviting...


  let thoughts     drift


                        maple leaves passed   /

light brush strokes



delicate    oranges and pinks

                 fresh blooms     of cloud



overlaid



breaking day    silent

I felt the sun
   shine of my face
and thought of its place
    in greater space

its warmth and light
     gave me peace
my worry ceased
     and I felt relief

the heavenly glow
    warmed my heart
gave me a start
     and took me apart

reconstructing my soul
    rebuilding it anew
I changed and grew
Looking into the deepest blue

I thanked its power
    Its creative force
My life and it’s course
     It being the source

I took a deep breath….
   Some people pray
To start their day
         I do it this way –

Raise up arms and give thanks
   To the powerful sun
And all it has done
    Since life has begun!

Her hair, flaxen wheat,


                           danced in the early autumn…


                                                   ­       
  
                                                      ­        my heart danced there too.

suicidal fly


                                          meticulously inspecting


             which web will


take




                                                                                             his life –

closed to differences of opinion
doors slam and angry hands
hide faces distorted with
misplaced rage and hate
over idealism misaligned -
personal impressions resist
accepting the masses
for humanity’s oneness,
instead they shake fists
and make lists of despicable
versions of themselves -
kissing the sleeping heads
of innocent children
whispering desperate prayers
to the white god of hypocrisy
in vain and misguided attempts
to fulfill ******’s master race
my face holds its shape
slight upturn at the corners of soft lips
stubbly beard glistening
with red and silver highlights
in a warm summer sun…
a knowing twinkle in my eye
as calm realization takes hold:
we could never truly be a unified people,
a one world government cannot succeed,
we dislike differences too much
to all become one….

~






holding






her breath                     lit a candle   /

When darkly falls the languid night
and tails all are tucked
frightened faces peer out from sheets
pulled round their head so tight

the moon shown full upon the wall
casting shadow through the tree
gnarled fingers scratch the glass
an owl sounds its call

windswept clouds shift the mood
new pictures form and melt
distorted ghosts play in the din
postures angry and lewd

youthful eyes dart left then right
terror fills a quick beating heart
sweat droplet slips into the quilt
strange noises enhance the fright

creaking boards and a squeaky door
send thoughts of an intruder
robbers, aliens, psychopathic killers
come to settle an unknown score

minutes pass and hours slip quickly by
heavy lids give way to sleep
dreams of restful nights of peace
and images of a blue clear sky

every day the same story is told
fearfully trembling until rhythmically snoring
the plot seems worn and ragged
and this life is getting old

before the sun set and darkness settled in
he cradled a chrome 45
thought of a lifetime living in fear
and how it would never bother him again /

~



soothing fragrance        wafts



                          blooming        lavender




- Lovely spring day !

i heard the sound
of knocking on my door
knocking on my door
on my door
startling my subconscious
and sending shivers down my spine
down my spine
my spine
I squatted and hid
afraid of what was to come
what was to come
to come
peeking through dingy and torn curtains
longing to see only an empty step
only an empty step
empty step
there to my surprise was an angel
hand outstretched ready to take me home
ready to take me home
take me home
I cried out as I looked back
at the pool of blood my body laid in
my body laid in
laid in
instantaneously the realization came
and I reached out for the hand of god
for the hand of god
of god
no more pain, discontent, guilt
I was now free, but still held some regret
still held some regret
some regret
sometimes we come to an understanding
well beyond the point of too late
point of too late
too late –

there is a line of thought
that each soul chooses its path
creating a general outline of experiences
a sense of direction without any concrete
it was then I became a writer ~

my mother sat me upon her lap
read to me little golden books
and Dr. Seuss
from time to time she would experience nostalgia
and read to me her own youthful writings
it was then I became a writer  ~

AP English taught by a wicked witch
no vision   no freedom     no fun
write this style this way or fail
I failed
it was then I became a writer  ~

sobbing over stationary
attempting to write away a failed marriage
trying to rhyme piece of mind
with leaving a daughter behind
ultimately choosing a needle and the life
like Hunter, Jack, and William…..
it was then I became a writer ~

sitting across from murderers
sharing the secret I held most dear
I read aloud my poetry for the first time
It was then I became a writer  ~

I became a writer the moment I
cocked my head to examine closer the delicate petals
of a dandelion  ~

I became a writer the instant I felt
          anything  ~

the day I set my hand free
and it became dearest of friends
with both my head and heart
that
that is the day I became a writer /

Musing


         at holiday music…..



                                                  lea­ving


my muse




to sit




                                                         ­             
                                                                ­     unamused.

America is
     dying


services
will be held
                        at


                                                    **Disney World

Ruined

by the June Moons’
                                    tune,


                    ­                     I swoon

                                                     for


                                                             prunes.

A light came from up in the sky

It totally captured my eye

                     Set down on three legs

                            Smelled a little of eggs


                                       And left the ground smoky and dry