Women of a certain age
not so young and not so aged
have witnessed the passing of love's parade
They dance at night alone
to fight the diminishing
returns of youth's flight.

They have found peace and
quietude in wisdom
about life's truth.

No knight comes.
No child answers
"come home's" call.
No money opens
heartfelt doors.
No strife is beyond
their solving might.

They have given it all
in healing other's
wounded night.

They take it back
inside to find
in their eyes
a moment of serenity
wise and laughter in
those eyes,
where candles light
their longing night...

Everyone washes up
on some distant shore
whether through design
or happenstance

Riptides dragging us
currents taking us
either through the
grinding routine
or the adventurous
spirit of the tides

Either way

We find ourselves
in places we
never intended to go

The water lapping
the warm sand so sweet
reminding us
never turn our back
on the ocean

or risk being
swept away,
delivered to
some shore,
trapped in some life
we never cared
to know.

The sun sets
of course in the west
The Pacific is anything but,
when we find ourselves
swept up

on a distant shore
in an alien landscape
wondering
how did we get here
at all.

a poet's words
a painter's eyes
a visionaries mind
a river dry
a rainless sky

Pairs without salvation
are the gamblers despair

a lover when she loses
her desire
is
darkness beyond repair...

The dance
was done
when they reached
for the gun
Where does
all of this violence
come from?

So many children
So many children
So many lives undone
So much unfinished
So much disappointments
as families weep
to a god
or
universe
with an
insatiable hunger for death.

The slaughter factories
have had
their centuries.

This little blue ball and moon
a tiny spot of light
when seen from Mars
certainly could
bring forth
an expanding
light of peace
which covers every inch
and in this light
the
horror will cease
as
everything will be in order.

The grandfather dies
The father dies
The child dies
and
all will fulfill
the
organic nature
of
their evolving lives.

This common vision quest
within
This common prayer
out there...

Poetry starts
with melancholy
We are all
a
"little" depressed.

The
Intensity
Of our grief
Equals
Our capacity to love.

Time or money
money or time
I hate this ****** rhyme
it defines our time.
Work sleep
sleep work
wage slaves
slave to wages.

Even renting space
in my dreams
stamp that
sign this
Get up and do the chicken dance.

Wait for him
wait for her
hurry up
you're late.
Wrong place
wrong time
a dollar short
a day late.
shoulda
coulda
woulda
An orca in a cage
all these cliches.

Time or money
money or time
I hate this ****** rhyme
It defines our lives...

Spring dances
Alley glances
Last chances
Internal cyclones spinning

I offered you golden words
without end

You gave me elusive lies

I offered you tender trances
places where music
never stops dancing

You gave me ******* lips
thin hips
silicone ****
wide eyes
hidden thighs
A curled finger which was a
a disguise

"Yes" was in your eyes
"No" was in your mind
In the words you said
You left me blind.

I didn't come for
The mask
The make up bit

I came for you that
golden woman inside
with the loving eyes

But I didn't have the alchemy
to turn your lead into poetry.

We are but hat racks
moving through
a dark and silent world
with our internal consciousness,
beliefs, projecting - deluding
us with the fantasies
that these are our realities
(puffs of air demark us)
while internal chemical
tides control us.

But it is all god and
love connected to
nothing but internal
emotional truths
in a dark and silent universe...

In the present
we're all here
We all know that
except you of course.

A river turns
three dimensional
when you've
been on it for a while.
The past runs down that river
becoming
smaller and smaller
a fish eye lens closing
until it disappears
into a memory

impossible to verify

Did I dream it
Was I told it
Did I see it on tv
Did it even happen to me?

How did I get there
Who was that person
What did they want
And what did I give them?

Memory is an echo
that rides on the currents of light
the song being sung
the perfume scent of something familiar
the look on a face in the crowd
the laughter floating through the neighborhood

Nightmares flashbacks
terror
too

Ok

Turn on the lights
it's just you.

Memory
this connection with "me"
yes
I was there
that was me
and
it all adds up to identity
connection with one's past
the narrative of our lives
the soundtrack of our times

but no more sorrow
no more melancholy
look around
it's the present
we're all here
your not
alone.

A song of streaks and slumps
themes repeat themselves without relief
one minute you are up
one minute you are down
and each moment feels like forever

Nothing is going to change
inside or out
helplessness reigns
every decision you make
you should have refrained
every decision you didn't make
was the one which would have fixed everything.

You sit in shame
staring at the wall and wondering.
A flip of the dice, a flip of the cards,
a flip of the light, a glance from blue eyes
heat crackles midas
touch
you think you know
for the moment you have it all.

A song of streaks and slumps
sometimes decades long sometimes in moments wrong.
A river forever different forever the same

Don't lose hope
Don't get too cocky

In the end
streaks and slumps march us through our time.

Scattered showers
Shattered moments
Running through the rain drops
Running through the tear drops

Trying to find
a shelter

The past is unchangeable
The future is unpredictable

The present is drenched
Wearing the wrong rain gear
Again

Shivering
Cold
Alone

For now

But, if you never leave home
You never get to come home
You wind up
Looking for it everywhere.

The rain is falling
The tops of the trees are swaying
My love is singing
The fire is crackling
The popcorn is popping
A perfect day in every way
All I really want to say
If I could freeze time,
Here is where I would stay.

Our love
Is the tides
Rolling
In and out.
In and out.
On that edge
Stay or go
We turn to each other
Go inside
yes or no?
Never clear
49/51%
Stay or go.

Our love is
The tides
Rolling
In and out.

You rose in my sky
a full moon rising
always bright
never warm.

I headed towards the east
to find out where this was coming from
to find out what was going on

But the answer was a rainbow moving further away
A horizon that keeps on shifting

Elusive as dusty sunlight
breaking through the garden window

Reaching out and never touching
No connection made.

Passing dust devils
on our way.

Come together people
and
write this poem

The end of war
we know it's coming

It's gotta come now
there's no more time
to
wait
The Blue Orchid
it's wilting in space.

The power of peace
it's gotta get moving
"If you're not part of the solution
You're part of the problem"

You hurt me
I hurt you
You **** my sister
I **** you too
You **** my child
I slaughter more.

"War War
what is it good for? "

Come together people
and
hear the cry
the mourners are suffering
but
forgiveness survives.

The dead don't dance
too many on the ground
listen
listen
We can still hear the human sound.

Come together people
and
write this poem
The one that will get
peace going.

It's been one too many centuries
no more time for this disease
eradication for this plague
the anecdote
only our words
can say

We can all share in this
our
Poem Of The Day.

Do you want me baby
as much as I want you?
Do you want to hold me
as much as I want to hold you?
Do you want to kiss me
as much as I want to kiss you?

Do you want to stay alone
as much as I don't?

Are you coming closer
or are you running away?

Do you want me baby
as much as I want you?

I could feel love
coming along
as soon as I gave it up

Unexpected plans

I wonder what you're doing
and does it mean a thing

I know I'm trying to deliver
what ever it is you need

Do you want this as much
as I want to give it to you?

Is this your desire?

Or is this the creepy
part of the show?

I'm innocent
my feelings are genuine
I don't ever want to intrude

But you're sending me
mixed messages
I'm trying to figure it out

So I thought I'd ask you

Do you want me baby
as much as I want you?

Hollerdays Hollerdays
We're heading south
To
LA.

The kids are asking me
Are we there yet
I'm always telling 'em
We're always there.

The turkey's laid out
Samonella feast
A lotta pink not much meat.
My father's screaming about the right
My brother's yelling at his wife
My mother's crying in the kitchen light.
My aunt is grinding her pelvic bone
Into the back of my hand on the couch.
Uncle Paul just out of rehab is
Pouring out another one.

While my sister's distressed her third husband Fred arrived mostly undressed.
Her kid keeps sticking out
His tongue at me.

Jesse's next door
Doing a smash
And grab.

Liza's boy
Toby has come
Undone.

While you
And I dance
In the hall.
To "the road goes
On forever
And
The party never ends"

While the cousins have taken
Their fight outside
Just about the time
The cops arrive to
Warn us about Mickey
barking
In the yard.

The ****'s all gone
The bottles are done.
Kisses all around for
Each and every one.

Hollerdays Hollerdays
Same time
Next year
We hold our traditions close and dear.

Nature's code
No rosetta stone.

The blind men
The elephant.

In the mirror
I see your face,
you standing there,
depending on the lighting,
the mood of the day,
Aspects
I'm sure,
But knowing you?

While macro systems
control the tides
We're like sea grass growing
from the rocks
bombarded by the
waves
automatically
springing back up

There's probably
a pathway back
to when the meek
inherited the earth
and
bequeathed it

If we can ever figure it out again.

From darkness to darkness
it's a purple puzzle
mystery

All we're left with is,
Goodnight
Sweet dreams
Sleep tight.

It's
one more cast
one more line
one more level
one more time

I promise

One more time

No more parking lot walks
No more broke night talks
No more looking into mirrors
saying
"What the ****?"

No more
after burners
the price to pay
sixteen  eighteen
hours
years
later
every day


Still saying

One more time

I promise

One more  time

Cumulus clouds
erupting
in the searing heat
over the green pined hills

Sitting
contemplating
reviewing one's life
change is coming
burning up

Corn cob
clouds emerging
while lightening flashes

Tomorrow the
fog
leading to rain
all is silent
no movement occurs
the heat wave ends.

Sometimes
I find myself
finding myself,
and sometimes I find myself

We talk it all
over for a while

Sometimes resolution
Sometimes revolution

Alone again
Wondering which steps
to follow

It's tough being human
All frailties and all

The fact our days are numbered
kind of  says it all

I told myself
in a short story
at a young age

Not to forget the dream,
The main character
He forgot the dream
And, oh
so
did
I.

Sometimes though
when the music
is right
feeling it inside
in a trance
higher and higher
some may even call it
flying

The moment though
it always passes

Sometimes when the mood
is right
it comes on back
again.

Sometimes gotta go
Sometimes gotta stay
Sometimes wounded
Sometimes healing is
on its way
Sometimes in wise mind
trying to figure on out
how to stay.

Sometimes we're
going to find ourselves
finding ourselves
and find ourselves
along the way.

Your picture
Your nightstand
Three kisses daily
I   Love  You

Poets
write words
meant
to be spoken
to
one's self.

Defining love
has been at the heart
of
everything I have ever done.

Defining love asks
when
I look deep into your eyes
see you deep inside
strengths and flaws
moments of harmony
moments of discord
moments of acceptance
moments of rejection

Defining love asks for more

Defining love
takes into account
we all have our hours
of
wild eyed insanity
No escape from that.
The question is asked
"irritating and annoying?"
or
are those wild eyes devastating
and hurting every time
defining love demands
stay or go.

Defining love
creates the thought
generates the emotion
brings the consequence
the story
we tell ourselves.

Defining love sometimes sends us to
**** ****** afternoons
exhausted and relaxed
defining love moves to closeness
to
these exquisite moments of  release.

Defining love plays up guilt
for everything
that could of
should of
been.

Defining love thinks that educating
is the way to be
slamming knowledge
in
rants and diatribes
"just what
my daddy
did
to me"

Defining love
will make you tough
by
being tough
and selling false expectations.
We all know what comes from this
my endless supply of mental patients.

Defining love doesn't give up
it has been said
******
defining love and feeling it
are all *******
defining love loves to be defined.

Defining love loves to dance
head off into
a moving with the music
trance
defining love wants to be defined
using no words
defining love aches for romance.

Defining love takes only prisoners
places hearts in solitary confinement
hopefully not condemned to others
or
alone again.

Defining love sometimes laughs
sometimes it comes
in a gasp.

The perfect
orchid
rose
lily
defining love is natural
no artificial ingredients
the only preservative
is
called life.

Defining love finally settles down
and comes around for acceptance
tenderness
a
child that sleeps in pure innocence
what really matters
is
the innocence
within us
all.

Always been a Peeping Tom
looking into the windows
watching the ******* move

the cozy lives unfolding


Eaves dropping on conversations
Wondering what people are talking about

Staring at people at work
their effort intense

Lives performed
soaring on whip saw winds

An apartment complex
with many units and addresses
every soul window there
a whole history in 3D
marching

Coming up for air
driven by curiosity

No eyes closed
gotta see

One more life
to witness.

With the flipping of
The tide
I realize my life
Is
Passing bye.

With the wilting of
The rose
Out there is
The end of the road.

In the night
I had longed
For the light
And
In the morning
I had longed
For
The night.

When together I wished
To
Be alone
And
When alone
Haunted every moment
In isolation's
Prison
I searched every soul
For
You.

"Smell the roses"

I added up
Every fault
From the past.
I dwelled
In all fears
For the future.

Gratitude for the
Present
Was
Beyond my grasp.

And here I am
At
The  turning of the tides
The wilting rose
The end of the road.

Rain
always
falls
on
Sorrowful
days,
Nature's
built
that
way.

Bang!
Wake on up and its already started
The monologue won't shut up
Talk
Talk
Talk
Blah
Blah
Blah

You coulda
You woulda
You shoulda

Shoulding on your self again
What's wrong with you?
Anyway

I listen to this all day
Sometimes first person
Sometimes third person
It doesn't matter what other people are saying
Doesn't matter if anyone else is even
around

Thinking is talking
loud or soft
talking to myself
Sometimes my best friend
Sometimes the critic that never ends

Quiet the thoughts
Stillness
A peaceful place

Breathe in
Breathe out

Time keeps passing
All anxiety eventually
goes away

Read for a while
It'll be okay

The lights are out
The cats are in the laundry room
It's foggy out
No San Francisco planes are coming in
tonight

Should I **** myself?
No, maybe tomorrow

Cozy in bed
Silence
Lights out.

Bang!

God, I just wanta sleep
sometime
tonight.

The Jack of Diamonds
he was a friend of mine
came around
on a Friday night
We beat those aces when he arrived
He was to do me wrong,
not once
but twice
not too far along.

Beat those aces
money flowed
around you came
didn't I know
a drifter with a heart of gold.

Jack of Diamonds
you and me
I figured that was the way it was going to be.

How was I to know
he
had an eight high flush
just when you
once again showed up
a Jack high straight
with the Jack of Diamonds
on top
smiling at me.

You backed off
said you had a call to make.

Everything came and went
went and came
one last player remained.

Jack high flush
was my name
all in
I played my game.
A
Full house stared back at me.
At least he didn't
have
ace's and eights
but he did have the next worst thing.

You said you had to go
Jack Diamond
sat
in his Mercedes Benz
flipped me off
and took you down the road
on a ride
to the party
that
never ends.

I
did
the parking lot walk
longing for everything
I had already lost.

I wonder what I'm doing
I wonder who I'm being
I wonder where I'm going

I've asked these questions so many times
The answer is never forthcoming

Wake up every morning
****, shower and shave
Put on the mask and join the parade
Numbness if you can find it
Has its rewards.

It's a difficult complex dance
Particularly when your mind and body
Don't understand choreography
Though dancing as fast as you can

The moves you ought be able to master, but never do

We're all doing
the daily stumbling Can-can.

If I leave this house tonight
I'm going to get a ****** and ******.
I've been playing it straight far too long,
I've been walking this line far too long.
Keeping a check on the freedom of my mind.
Oceans to the west
Tundras to the east
Stars spinning out there
Quick sand beneath my feet.

Wrapped up in obligations
disguises and costumes
fake jewlery
fake smiles
routines and rituals
Keeping one foot going ahead of the other
Too scared to stop
Too alone to go on.

Freedom to the left of me
Disaster to the right.

How am I going to find revolution
at this time of night?

It's a sticky situation
when your lover is
in flames.

Hold on tight
to whatever it is you mean,
You are going to
take a ride
around your beliefs,
find out what is true.

Beware if that spark
touches you,
You're going
to dance on fire
too.

It was a doggy opera
singing up and down
the street
on a hot summer
half cut moon lite night.
Crickets frogs
night blooming jasmine
perfumed memories
curtains flipping in the hot wind
suffocating sweating sultry
with the windows wide open
the neighbors bullshitting
My eyes stare across the room.
I've been alone but never like this before.

Over at the bar on Melrose
Jostled and jammed
a pivot point spun
waiting at the bar three deep
looking for eye contact
a friendly face
I've been alone but never like this before.

The family is all here
each and every one
Going through pictures
scrap books of the past-
realizing in the end
your memory is a picture
with someone
getting your name wrong.
I've been alone but never like this before.

I come back home to my doggy opera
you hugged me then
felt pretty good
until I realized you were thinking of him.

I've been alone but never like this before. ..

For my Mother upon her arrival
Once the cold white warrior
softened through wisdom and
experience.
In your love I hear my own
communicated softly.

Your presence through time
an anchor, an edge
a clarity of mind
a witness in the kindness
of others
who in your presence
became melodic spirits
encased in kindness too.

How did you hold so much power?

Shiney youth and age
remind one of the ocean's
waves come crashing
drawing back
mixing
Always the same
Always different.
A moment one after the other
and gone forever.
In that flavor I taste
the sea and serenity
as I, as you gave to me;
and I held you there
a vast marvel of
endless wind blown currents
holding one mystery
after another

Dear  Mother
Upon your arrival
as you blessed me
I bless you
in your infinite grace

Old age
It comes on like a
Typhoon
Hurricane
Ice Storm
Tsunami
War
A natural disaster.

Stumbling
Bumbling
Down on your knees
there Buddy
Humbling.

When I was 12 years old
One Round World
A photo
Elderly folks standing around a Piano
"And they used to call it rocknroll"

Way way far away
here we are now
encased in
memories and mortality.

The creative spirit
sleeping in the back
of the room
tossing and turning
dreaming
eyes spinning in sleep
level four
R E M
but not saying a word
leaves you wondering
what's the point in
everything

Creative spirit
taking a hiatus

No where to be found
maybe in Hawaii
looked under the couch
even checked the kitty litter

Creative spirit, taken a powder

Now I'm feeling
so lost
so all alone
what am I supposed to do

Creative spirit
give me a sign
smoke signals
telegraph
telephone
email
text
Not even messaging

When does the somnambulisim
ever wear off
I told him he
had taken one too
many

The creative spirit, though,
still smoldering
where there's
smoke there's fire
where there is fire
there is passion's
heat

I'm remembering what
Chuck Berry taught me
"If the joint is rocking
Don't bother knocking
Come right on in"

Creative spirit you
can't cancel
no excuses will
be taken
We have a date
mañana
at a quarter to ten.

Create
the art
of
your vision.
Another's job
is critic.

In all of these tomorrows
I see all these crazy
sorrows
haunting me
until you come on home
to me again.
Where you go
I don't really know.
You go so faraway
so often there you stay.

Your eyes are seeing
secret somethings
I'm not seeing
and
your not telling me what
I need to know.
Your voice it is a whisper
your touch it is so distant
your lost in all the echoes
as you ride away.

All of my tomorrows
will be filled
with all these sorrows
at the emptiness within
where now to begin?

I can only imagine
if there is another road to travel
another round to haggle.

We were a puzzle piece
in a perfect fit
a finally sense of home
the first I've ever known
being a poet
and a wanderer too.

I know the years
together
something sent from heaven
time it comes and goes.

I know you're on the road
living in the shadows
can you tell me darling
when will you be
coming home to me?

Transitionary lovers rarely remain
if you think about why this is too long
it will probably drive you insane.

Nobody really knows.

When you left the wife
left the life
left the husband
left the strife
at
least for a little while

You are

caught up in the sparkling, twinkling, incandescent
glowing opiates of love
finally
no pain remained.

There are
Smiles all around.

We danced so close in
night clubs like cruise ships
sailing to no where
and
no where to go

But
you are
leaving her
leaving him
leaving them
trying to forget what you already know.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain.

This one will be different
we are so different
we found this magic
and it will
be maintained
as
Days together go by
weeks and months too

But

In the end
the transitionary lover may have sparked
the change
from
here
to
there

The homes which were cozy
once again become lonely.

Life becomes a parking lot motel
staring out the window at the heat
displaced
trying to convince yourself
this is not too bad.

Transitionary lovers rarely remain
and
both of us will be on to the next one
Falling back into the routines
of
life, love, stability

Awaiting again for that transitory lover
to
take us where we need to go.

I
Poetry starts
Off in melancholy
Suicide
Preoccupied
With differences and death
Fidelity and failure
I guess all of us
Poets are a little depressed.

We lay down the bricks
One by one
To
Follow our path.
We put on our shoes
Our pants
Our shirt
Cut our hair
Looking into the mirror
Wondering wondering
Whose that stranger there?

Driven by hormonal storms
The door for psychosis
Can open or shut.
Chemo warfare dictates our moods
Immortality fragility
Days which never end
Lovers one after the other
In
Images played
Payed in time
Moving away.

Unconscious
Conscious
Who can say
The body holds
All the keys
Dictates all the way.

II

Then it moves on
To broken hearts
****** insertions
Gentle caress
Every fantasy
Every movie  played
Every Tuesday .

Fantasies and goals
Work that out
Some events and ends
Better ideas
Then realities
Hard to know though
Until it's too late.

Relationships
Commitments
Do I go it alone
Or
Do another do I really know.
Do I hide
Or
Do I show
Who I am and what I know
Is
Love my virtue?

Children
Offspring
Feels like forever
For a short while.
Hope and heart
Heart
And
Heartbreak
Knowing when to intervene
Or let nature take its course.
Do the best we can
And try to heal the rest.

III

Decisions are made
Some genetic
Some environmental
Nature loads the bullets
Nurture pulls the trigger
Nature versus nurture
As old as the hills.

On the periphery
There
Is
Sickness pain psychosis
And just those
For whom
The cultural games
Are far too hard
Too complicated
To master or play.

Bohemians a forgotten caste
Of whom we do reside
Stand outside looking in
Artists
Poets
Drunks
Arguing about the nature of nurture
Trying to find
The portrait
The exact word
The one last drink
Describing all of this.

IV

Into the oven
Alchemy waits
Processing
All
The past and future fates.

Immobile and paralyzed
Until in this suspended state
Begins to generate
The longing to find meaning
And create.
It all blossoms
And becomes possible
And you are riding
A
Different kind of wave
Running
Back and forth
Up at dawn
Putting your boots on
Even
Our sleep and dreams
Go fast
Until the work of our lives is done.

V

In this moment of reflection
Did I do what I intended
To do?
And was it all a waste?
And the final dilemma
Is asked
But never resolved.

Did I live my life with integrity
Or
Did I run and hide
From
My true nature
The phantom captain
Calling from inside?
Or
Do I collapse
Into the despairs
Of what might have been?

It brings to mind
The moment my mother died
As her face formed
Into that wondrous smile
Not only a last gift
For the living
But
A smile left
For a life worth living...