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The tower penetrates
the puffy pink
clouds, and the
horizon squirts
sweet rain.
My face gets
sticky.
She is the sky.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMvnUCN6Rmc&t=8s
I sit in the day room of
cell block one in the county jail at
4: 30 am.  It's quiet, almost serene.
All the other inmates are asleep.
I wait for breakfast: two hard-boiled eggs,
a doughnut, juice, and milk.  
Once a week we can order books.
They will deliver them today.
I'll get Bukowski, Steinbeck, and Cervantes.
The remaining six days will
fly by.
When I'm released, I'll go under
the bridge—steal wine and
stay drunk.
I'll eat every three or four days.
It's January with record-setting
frigid temperatures.
Survival will be a challenge.
There will be an ex-girlfriend to
contend with.
I'll try to get what little
clothes that I left at her place,
that is if she didn't throw them away;
she's somewhat of a **** like that.
My two best friends who stayed under
the bridge with me, died a day
apart two months ago,
so, nothing but
ghosts and memories there now.
I'm going to miss jail.
Here's a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMvnUCN6Rmc
Dec 12 · 233
It Took Years
Thomas W Case Dec 12
Many years
ago, I went to
this little
Irish bar.
On Sunday nights,
there was a jazz band.
They played
Monk
Mingus
Coltrane
Miles
and the Duke.

I drank gallons of
****** marys on
those hot
summer nights.
Dill pickle spears, and
green olives came up
later on those
hungover, dreamless
mornings.

I was young.
I wasted the days,
lying in the sun,
bayonetted by youth.
Copper colored skin,
tin soul.
I would go thousands
of miles, chasing
that train, before I
would be forgiven.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMvnUCN6Rmc
Dec 9 · 136
The Last
This could be
the last poem I
ever write.
I hope not,
but it's possible.

If it were my
last poem,
what would I want
it to say?
Wow, not so easy.

Poetry has been a
loving wife, and I
will miss her on
all those sleepless
nights, when dreams
don't come.
Writing poems have
kept me in touch
with all the harsh
pain, and all the
sublime beauty.
Both are supreme
teachers.

Poetry has opened
my ears to the
sounds of the
earth, the whispered
rush of the creek
running over stones
and sticks.
The cries of my
children in the
night wanting
their mothers'
milk.

If this were
my
last poem, I would
want it to bring
some joy and be
a bit less sentimental.
Oh well,
guess I have to
write more.
This is a repost.  Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMvnUCN6Rmc
Dec 6 · 595
Silver and Gold
I teach my
little daughter about
things in the sea with
flippers, and I feel
like Neptune or
Posideon.
I can smell
the salty breeze.

Sometimes,
I feel like
I won the lottery.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm broke most
of the time, but
my life is rich with
golden memories, and
silver moments, built
one day at a time.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.  A brand new video is up.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PMvnUCN6Rmc
Dec 4 · 253
I Dreamed in Green
I long for
the sunburnt days,
freckled dreams and
scabbed up knees.
Ahh
to be a boy in
summer again.
My baseball and  
**** dog close at
hand.
Fishing pole and
lily pad ponds.
I caught frogs and
tortoises.
The budding poet in
me saw sunsets on
the underside of
the shells.

The daylight, and
evening seemed to
last forever.
And when I finally
went to bed,
The buzz of the
cicadas, and the
symphony of the
crickets were my
soundtrack to youth.
I dreamed in green.
Here's a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI
Nov 30 · 187
Poor Eddie Van Patten
Thomas W Case Nov 30
I was in 4th grade at
Hubble Elementary.
Eddie Van Patten was
in 6th grade.
He was a big kid, even
for a 12-year-old.
He had a bowl cut,
and freckles.
Eddie was a  
troublemaker,
but he never  
bothered me.

One bitter cold
January afternoon,
he slipped on a  
patch of ice,
hit the back of
his head and died.
Mr. Maguire, the
gym coach said,
It was the occipital bone.
We were all told
to feel the back of  
our heads.
The coaches' eyes
didn't have that
sparkle anymore.

He said,
“You have to  
learn how to
fall, always protect
the back of your head.
If you don’t land right,
It can **** you.”

For the next
week, we practiced
tumbling and
learning to fall the
right way.
I was sad for
Eddie, but I wanted
to play dodgeball.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI
Nov 26 · 204
Upon Visiting the Dead
Thomas W Case Nov 26
I visit the dead at
the grocery store,
library,
on the phone
and
in my e-mails.
I watch them  
on TV,
at the beach,
in my dreams
and in the eyes
of crows.

They wear
colorful clothes, and
always want to
sell me on their
way of life.
No thanks, I’m  
calling the whole  
thing off.
I’m going fishing.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI

My book is Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
Nov 24 · 246
Getting it Down
Thomas W Case Nov 24
My cat’s timing is
impeccable.
I’ve been slothful
with writing lately,
and the cats play
the antagonist.
I sit in my
favorite chair and
put some Vivaldi on.  
I’m determined to write.

As soon as I pick up
my notebook and pen,
the black one with
the white spot on
her neck jumps on  
my lap and bites at
the moving ink pen.

Her sister chases
imaginary bugs on
the coffee table, and
knocks over a slim
glass of water.
She runs away.

The newest edition to
my cat family is a
large tiger stripped
female that is
currently trying to
avoid the puddle, while
she bats at the
leaves of the fig tree.

I bet Bukowski
didn't have to
deal with this ****.
On second thought,
he probably did.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI

My book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems is available on Amazon.com.
Thomas W Case Nov 22
The poor thing got
lost in the escape.
And she was still hungover
from the childhood terror.
Her personality was
ruined--redolent with
the first flowers of
madness.

She made a pretend
world, full of delusions.
A house of cards that
was laden with
lunacy, her insanity
became safe and dependent
on her never taking
responsibility for her
actions--she was a
pawn for the adage,
Hurt people Hurt people,
like Blanche from
A Streetcar Named Desire,
and
Don Quixote,
Her world crumbled and she climbed
into the abyss,
when she looked
deeply into the
mirror of reality.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRhyjqbFrGI
Nov 20 · 326
The Champ
Thomas W Case Nov 20
When does the
champ know that  
he doesn’t have  
It anymore?
Is it after that
first loss to a
*** he should  
have knocked out in
the second round?
Is it when his body
doesn't do what
his mind tells it
to do?  

His punches are
slow.
His legs are
weak.
He once was one
of the greatest.
Iron Mike, they
called him.

He loses to an
overhyped cute
boy with little skills,  
and blonde curls.
It was brutal to watch.

He was king of
the jungle in those
early Brooklyn days.
Old lions don’t just
wander off and die
alone.  
They get killed and
eaten by  
younger lions.

After this charade,
I hope the champ
hangs up his
gloves for good.
Here's a link to my youtube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Nov 20 · 1.9k
Why Complain?
Thomas W Case Nov 20
I woke up with
A sore back, and
stepped in cat
***** when my
feet hit the floor.
I turned on the
radio, and My Favorite
Things was playing,
the John Coltrane
version.
It reminds me of
rainy July nights.

I make some coffee,
And check the book sales.
Hey, I got a couple in
India, and the coffee tastes
right.

I take it as it comes.
Black and true, like
Steinbeck's bones.
Don’t forget about the
goings of mice and men.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Nov 18 · 229
Live Well
Thomas W Case Nov 18
It’s hot in
Missouri.
The summer  
sun looks down  
jealous of
youth playing in
the fields,
carefree and
careless.
Kids drown
muskrats with
rocks in the
stream, and have
funerals for flies.
Death watches, and
waits for
winter to come.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Nov 15 · 255
Along the Way
Thomas W Case Nov 15
All the hard
times prepared me
for this.
The hopeless
times, black sun
sadness.
The long seasons of
madness.
Starving, like a
winter tomcat.

The hospital stays.
Jails and psych wards.
The fist fights under
bridges.
Midnight swims, drunk in
the Iowa River,
not drowned, only out
of spite.
All of this, and
much more got
me ready for this.

I’m sitting up in bed.
It’s 5:00 AM.
My three cats chase
each other, like
lovers in spring.
I’ve been sober
for almost two years.
I even quit smoking
cigarettes.
I’m writing regularly,
and publishing much
of it.
It’s mostly well received
worldwide.
I’m sipping a hot cup
of coffee.
It’s from Sumatra and has
notes of herbs and earth.

I look at the pictures of
Van Gogh and
Hemingway above my
antique maple desk,
as I listen to Mozart.
A writer needs four walls.
I have so much more,
children
wisdom
cats
and gratitude, the most
important thing I
found.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Nov 14 · 197
A Worthwhile Pursuit
Thomas W Case Nov 14
My mind is a
scrapbook of
tattered
memories and
ghosts that waltz to
sullen Cohen
songs in my heart.

Sometimes
it hurts
like a
rotten tooth.
I have a foul and
electric
taste in my mouth.
A metallic bitterness.
There’s a febrile and
pale stranger in the
mirror that cowers
back at me.
Tears, like candle wax.

I used to
try and drink the
pain away.
Chase worldly
pursuits, like a
dog at the track
after that mechanical
rabbit.

As I get older,
I try to practice
wisdom.
I got off that
dirt road to
damnation Island.
We are in this
carnival of ****
together.
I seek a higher love
and try to ease another's
aching,
a pursuit worthwhile.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Nov 11 · 2.4k
Sacred Pause
Thomas W Case Nov 11
When the urge
to react to the
tactless clowns,
and
down looks like
up,
and life's teeth
are sharper than
a steak knife,
breathe,
and take a
sacred pause.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
This is a repost from last year. Here is a link to my YouTube channel, where I read poetry from my book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, which is available on Amazon.
Nov 8 · 1.8k
Let Love Reign
When anger and hatred
flow through your veins,
let love reign.
On gentle Spring nights when
memories haunt you like
the lost dead,
let love reign.
When stress and confusion
overwhelm you and the
future seems as
uncertain as a roll
of the dice,
let love reign.

When you think God is
a grand prankster and
it feels like an
eternal winter in
your heart,
let love reign.
When the pictures remind
you of times long gone,
and the mirror is
a hard place to live,
let love reign.

If you get lost,
like I do in a
poem or a song,
let love reign.
In my dreams, I will
see you, and kiss you,
and hold you forever,
and there will be no
good-byes
only good mornings,
if we let love reign.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbj9bj58Txw
Nov 4 · 237
Indigo Night
On my windowsill,
of that indigo night
you took me,
and I haven't
been the same since.

Something about you
makes me want to
be a better man.
I've grown wings,
so I take to the sky.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where  I read poetry from my book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN9CrqlcvIY
Nov 1 · 233
Vagabond Wind
You slipped
away from me,
like the robins and
cherry blossoms when
spring ends,
and the fractured nights
of winter come.
I will search the
midnight alleys, and the
mountains of Chile.
I will listen for
your sweet laughter.
I long to taste your
honeysuckle lips, and
hear your heartbeat.
If I never find you,
I will be a lost leaf
on the lonesome
vagabond wind.
This is a repost.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN9CrqlcvIY
Oct 28 · 459
The Womb
Thomas W Case Oct 28
Another lunatic trip to
the hospital.
Nine days, this
go around.
For the first two
days, I just pulled
the covers over my
head and pretended I
was back in the womb.
It was warm and safe.
As much as I
wanted to stay,
I knew it was time to
be reborn into this
strange world of
sick streets, and
broken dreams.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry to promote my book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazom.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN9CrqlcvIY
Oct 24 · 212
amor tardius occidit
Thomas W Case Oct 24
amor tardius occidit
We should have
been so much
more.
Now we're just a torn
page
in a finished book.
The memories are
fading,
but the pain still lingers.
I still smell you on
my fingers.
I still taste you on
my tongue.
Love kills slowly;
a backward glance from
an invisible god.
I'm a bird that sings,
but cannot fly.
I'm the ticking of a
clock.
A rocking chair.

tick

tock...
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN9CrqlcvIY
Oct 22 · 740
Blue Life
Thomas W Case Oct 22
I've been to the crushing
place.
It smells of death, and
spider mums.
Daisy chains dropped
when the music died.
The lake is murky now.
Clowns roam the street,
looking for carnivals
and meat.
Silly boys still believe
in love and dreams, and
girls that like opera and
giving head.
This world is strange, and
Picasso walks the lonely
avenues, feeding
seagulls' peanuts and paint.
No one blames him.
It's his blue period.
All the while,
an old bent man plays
the guitar.
He smells like camels,
and hope.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ur5pZxbd7hE
Link to my youtube channel where I read my poetry.
Oct 18 · 297
Worry
Thomas W Case Oct 18
She worries about
everything,
real and imagined,
"what if this? What if that?"
I watched my
Mom
worry herself right
into the
grave one disastrous
December night.
My girlfriend doesn't care.
She wants me to
worry right along
with her.
And when I don't
she
gets angry.

My Dad said,
"They can **** us,
but they can't eat us."
I share this with her.
Nothing!
Just
worry, worry, worry.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ur5pZxbd7hE
I have combined my fishing adventures with poetry.  Good times.
Oct 16 · 273
Make the Static Go Away
Thomas W Case Oct 16
Make the static go
away,
the dead-dog depression;
the fleas tip-toeing across
my brain.
Hate locks the
door to the heart,
and puts the
soul in a cage.
The rage consumes,
like a West Coast fire.

Make the static go
away,
the electric anxiety;
the butterflies swimming in
my blood.
Love is a fantasy,
a fairy tale for children.
Devotion
imprisons
the mind and
subdues the heart.

Give me sweet
apathy, beautiful
sedation, let me
float in bliss;
not tethered by emotion.
Let me get lost, deep
in the core of the orchid,
and sail aimless,
in the
vast chasm
of the sea.
Give me radical
lethargy.
Here is another repost.  I still can't scroll.  Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ur5pZxbd7hE
Thomas W Case Oct 13
Jack-o-lantern love,
stabbed by the autumn leaves;
bleeding all burnt orange and sienna.
And it smells like
cloves and vanilla,
and loneliness. Kaleidoscope confusion,
that dog bite pain
in my soul.
I don my navy blue corduroy,
as I bundle up for
the great void.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ur5pZxbd7hE
Here's a ;ink to my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
Oct 11 · 522
Night Terrors
Thomas W Case Oct 11
In my night
terror,
I hear the pounding
of
your wings, ripping and
tearing
at my feeble heart.
It's beating,
but
barely,
bomb-blasted by your
attack.
your love is like
a stroke;
like a bloated toad.
I'm road weary,
teary-eyed like a
sunflower.
And you scream in
the darkness like
a lamb.

I long to *** in
you.
I'm like dentures
chewed on by a stray dog;
teeth missing,
jagged like a
jack-o-lantern.

Damage control is
your best bet.
I let you way too
far in.
No turning back now.
I'm like a dumb
cow led to slaughter.

I'm miles away.
You're on a
different
island.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read this poem and others.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ur5pZxbd7hE
Oct 7 · 296
My Alice
In her deadly
blue eyes, I fall down the
rabbit hole.
Down
down
down I go.
I hit the
earth like a
mock turtle on its
back;
with a smack;
like a shot to the vein.
She travels through my
bloodstream with the
force of a mad tea party.
Her hair is dormouse soft.
I touch it, and feed
her tarts, as she
rides me like
a guillotine;
sharp and final,
with a purpose;
like a porpoise with a
fish hook in
its mouth.
I hold on tight
and never let go.
Because I can't scroll, this is a repost.  Here is a link to a short video on my you tube channel where I read this poem.
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/uQvAa0t6VDw
He wants to shake the moss off his back
and leave the tad-poles behind.
They remind him of his misspent youth
and wasted Spring.
The blackbird sings of blue skies,
far off lands,
and the bullfrog dreams of flying.
Here is a link to my youtube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hP285EP-bo
Thomas W Case Sep 30
I can't count how many times
I've been to D-Tox.
she was always
there by my side.
I turned her on to
the cheesecake and
yogurt berry parfait.
It was a plain yogurt with
fresh blackberries, raspberries,
strawberries and blueberries.
It was amazing- it still is.
We'd stir up the parfait and
pour it on the cheesecake.
It was divine.

I sit here and eat
it alone tonight.
The berries explode when I
put them in my mouth and
chew on them, it's like a
food that the Greek gods
would eat- an ambrosia for
the brokenhearted.
I think of you as the little
blueberries roll around on
my tongue.
It's all so creamy and succulent.

But, I sit here forlorn and eat our
yogurt berry poetry and cheesecake.
And each berry stores a memory in
every luscious bite.
I feel downhearted that you
aren't here with that juicy
purple fluid running down your chin.
Here is a repost because I can't scroll to see if/when I lat put it up.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry and document my fishing adventures in the shorts lol.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hP285EP-bo
Thomas W Case Sep 25
I've lost everything I
owned more times than
I can count.
All I had left was
the clothes on my back.
In some ways, there was
a sense of relief.
What else could I lose?
That answer came hard
and fast like the night.
I could lose my health,
my sanity,
my friends,
my sense of peace
and love,
I could lose my
creativity and
the muse
She could end up at
the Deadwood, bellied-up
to the bar, tickling
some young English major.
I could lose a lot more
than I thought

Well, here I sit
in a three-bedroom
house that fell out
of the sky,
a few pieces of clothes,
some food,
coffee and cigarettes.
I have a blue and
orange cast on my
left leg.
I have the cast
because I fell and
broke my ankle
on a debauched
lonely winter
night.
I had surgery
ten days ago.
Now I have
more than I
bargained for, a plate and
screws galore,
and a nice healthy
****** addiction.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry and show my fishing videos.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hP285EP-bo
Sep 24 · 222
Time and Dirt
Thomas W Case Sep 24
He had that
groaning soul
loneliness, like a
puffy white cloud,
floating aimless and
aching toward the
black abyss- that gray sky
sadness,
like he was
five years old, and just
watched his dog get
hit by a car.
You could smell
the pain- taste it
like potato chips on a
sore throat.
It smelled like a
basement or cobwebs.
I told him,
'Nothing will fix that
****- just time and dirt.'
He didn't blink,
and his soft walnut eyes
flashed
crossword confusion.
This is a repost, but since I can't scroll to see how long ago I first posted it.  Here it is again.

Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7hP285EP-bo
Sep 23 · 543
Looking for that Highway
Thomas W Case Sep 23
Life wears me out with its
twists and turns, and
hairpin curves.
I keep waiting for
a long, peaceful stretch
of a highway, bathed in
the rising sun.
A golden wheatfield to
to the left, a moss-covered
pond with dragonflies to
the right.
The road turns to gravel
and climbs rapidly uphill.
There are signs along the
way that promise the world.
The road gradually turns
to dirt and ultimately
disappears.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSAlwXq6VDA
check out my you tube channel.  I read my poetry there.
Sep 19 · 262
Better Than Gold
Thomas W Case Sep 19
There are moments in
my life that are
too wild and
beautiful to be
tamed or captured by
words or sentences.
Musical notes could
do a better job at
conveying the experience.
D minor
or C sharp major.

My mind replays
the moments,
alive with pentatonic scales
and the taste of homemade
apple cider, and pomegranate
security.
I smell the burning leaves of
late October, and feel
the smooth nose of my
childhood Appaloosa, her
dappled coat, and trusting eyes.

Sometimes the world, and
all its goodness
stupifies me, and leaves
my spirit rocking gently in
a cradle, where I know it's
all going to be okay.
Check out my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSAlwXq6VDA
Sep 18 · 209
The Final Retreat
Thomas W Case Sep 18
When Summer's heat
gives way to
autumns bliss,
I will kiss this
world goodbye
and walk to
the woods
to save
the last sliver
of my humanity,
where the creek
meets the river of
my destiny.
Far away from
the ****** city of
sick Streets
and broken
dreams.
repost
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSAlwXq6VDA
Sep 16 · 264
A Tender Dream
Thomas W Case Sep 16
Once there was this
woman that I could talk about
writing and
poetry with.
We talked about Emily and Bukowski,
and many others.
We were poets in our own right.
We shared tears and laughter,
like a joint among friends.
Once, we sang our daughter to sleep.
It was beautiful and sublime.
But, the brutal dawn destroyed that
glorious night.

She farted a lot, but I fell
in love with her anyway,
and her son too.
We even cooked together.
It was magnificent,
although she got a little bossy in
the kitchen.
I can still smell the coriander
and garlic and taste the salt on
the back of her neck.

I picked her wildflowers, and
ate well from her garden- all slippery and divine.
She had these pastel soft blue eyes,
like something out of a Degas painting.
She could be as mean as Humpty Dumpty,
all cracked and broken, yoke flowing everywhere.
And I couldn't fix her. And I certainly
couldn't put myself back together again.

And then one autumn, I turned around,
and she was gone. A wall went up.
Occasionally I could see her through the
holes in the bricks. But I knew that
I would never touch her again;
hold her, kiss her.
It made me feel sad and lonely.
But I keep her real close in my heart.
And some days that gets me by.
And other times, it's like she was
never there at all just a tender dream.

I want to escape the memory of her;
overdose on artichokes and avocados,
drowned in a sea of ****** Marys,
or run away to far-off lands,
like Montana or Idaho.
But, I'm afraid I'd still see her there,
in the Snake River or the wide open sky.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cSAlwXq6VDA
This is a repost.
The short videos on my you tube channel are videos of my fishing trips.
Sep 3 · 887
You
You
You build me with
turquoise and
the mountains of Taos.
Cerulean blue
serenity in my soul.
My heart chases
after you.
Even your chisel
helped me
grow through
the pain.
You
are the
grand artist,
The Supreme
sculpter.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry from Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHB1Q13LID4
Sep 1 · 785
Look at Me, Mama
I'm an athlete.
I can throw and catch,
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look at me, mama.
I'm a writer.
I do poetry and stories,
all pretty and pink,
and all you do is,
sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I'm lonely,
I'll move to France,
meet a woman, get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass; nature everywhere,
as you sleep, sleep, sleep.
Look mama,
look at me, mama!
I have children now,
all good and wise,
you're a grandma.
Why don't you wake up?
Please look at me, mama.
I'm lonely and afraid.
I'm old now, and cold,
and you still,
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry and go on boat adventures. Lol
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHB1Q13LID4

My recently published limited edition e-book, Rise Up Collected Poems and Short Stories is available on Booksie .com
Aug 28 · 335
Lonely Like the Leaves
Thomas W Case Aug 28
The days crawl by like
tortoises.
My purpose is obscured by
***** nights, and
raven-haired sadness.
Naked branches of
the maple trees dance in
the autumn wind, and
leaves rustle in
the dead grass;
all burnt orange and yellow ocher.
They're like a
little surreal sunrise.
Hope
is eternal.
I'm pretty sure this is a repost, but I can't tell because I can only scroll so far in my catalog.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry, and have fun adventures on a boat fishing. lol
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHB1Q13LID4&t=14s
Aug 27 · 676
The Picture
Thomas W Case Aug 27
Chain smoking sadness, slapped by time.
Winter doesn't freeze the pain.
There was one thing that
Mom wanted desperately:
It was to have a
picture of her
seven kids all together,
in one place,
at one time.
There was an age
difference of 23 years between the
youngest and the oldest,
and 1000 miles separating us.

In December of 1987
two weeks before Christmas,
I held a picture of
the seven of us all together.
I put it in the
right front pocket of
her navy blue blazer.
After the funeral,
we buried her with it.
Oh, Mom, I wish we
could have done this
when you were alive.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHB1Q13LID4
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
Thomas W Case Aug 25
I don't want to go a
gentle journey,
from convoluted to
convalescence.
I quit drinking again;
found love in
the psych ward.
She's my broken-winged
angel.
So much pain behind that
sweet smile.
She's drinking again,
and I can't fix her.
It hurts, like an arrow
through the stomach.

I have a rabbit that comes
to my yard.
She lies in the same
spot every day.
So much so, that
she has worn down a
place for herself--the surrounding
grass grows around her.
She feels safe.
I feed her spinach, and my
brother sings her
show tunes.
That's what we get
for having a drama
teacher for a father.
Thanks, Dad.

It's been an unseasonably
cold April.
I feel sorry for Harvey;
That's her name, thanks
again Dad.
I talk to her softly.
"Hi, baby--what are you doing?
Do you want to come in?"
She doesn't answer.  I'm sober.
I want to take care of her...
Both of them...
My two little bunnies.
It's cold, and the wind is
blowing hard,
beneath a mean grey sky.
I dedicate this poem (a repost) to my friend, Dawn Holt who passed away last week. RIP.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read this poem and others from my book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHB1Q13LID4
Thomas W Case Aug 23
Homeless and roaming the
streets like an orphan.
It was the dead of winter, and
I was still alive—barely.
My ex-girlfriend let  
me crash on her couch for
a few days.
She didn't smoke.
I did,
so whenever I wanted  
a cigarette, I went out in
front of her
apartment and lit up.
One night, bent on nicotine,
I entered the January thaw.
As I had my  
smoke fix,
a man with a  
huge Rottweiler slowly
walked by.
The dog caught sight of
me, and gave me a low growl.
The guy talked to
his pet like he was
his best friend.
'Leave him alone, that's his home;
let him smoke.'
The dog knew better, and
glared at me.
He barked loud and viciously.
'Leave that poor man alone.
Let him enjoy his cigarette,
that's his home, '  the man said.
A small dog began  
yapping in the distance.
The man said,
'Oh great, you've upset that little dog.
Come on, let's go.'
The Rott gave me an evil look, and
sauntered off.
He recognized his own  
kind.
He also knew that there
was something different about me.
He could smell it,
almost taste it.
He knew I was a mongrel
and a stray.
He knew I didn't
belong.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.  My book Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems is available on Amazon.com
Aug 22 · 721
For Dawn
Thomas W Case Aug 22
You Got lost in
the deep end of life;
far from the
safe shallows.
Elf-like grin,
leftover from
childhood.

I couldn’t
save you.
9 months of
milky memories and
shipwrecks to
the soul.
Your grief killed
you as much as
the ***** did.
I hope you’re now
resting
safely on the shore.
Check out my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnWn7sX-Y4E
Aug 21 · 211
Sonnet for an Angel
Thomas W Case Aug 21
If not for you where would I be today?
Most likely dead or on some distant shore.
Your love does not drift like the ocean waves.
It stays close to my heart, I can't ask for more.
Your skin, so soft, like velvet on my tongue.
Your orchid, sublime, responds to every kiss.
To my ears, your heart beats like a song.
If I never met you my life would be amiss.
But now we build the future bold and brave.
There is no fear when I am in your arms.
The ***** is gone and I'm no longer a slave.
My soul is not in a state of alarm.
Your breath is like the wind on a barren land.
I swear to you I'll always be your man.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnWn7sX-Y4E&t=182s
Aug 13 · 269
Lonely Little Vagina
Thomas W Case Aug 13
We've been apart
now for a while, and
the pain has begun to
subside. But today, something
triggered it all fresh
and sharp.

I ran across some
pictures of your
****** that you let
me have.
It makes me sad
to look at them
for hours on end.
I may be reading
too much into the
three different views,
but in one of them,
your dormouse seems
to be whispering,
"I miss you, Thomas,
we had so much fun,
you and I."
In another shot,
the light hits little Jezebel
just right (she loved it when I called her that.)
And I swear it seems as though
she is pouting like she's sad too.
And the third picture is
the hardest to view of all.
It's in black and white
so it has that artsy film noir
look to it, like a sad French
mime. Quite artistic as far as
closeups of vajayjays go.
It has a fussy, pouty
look to it, with a twinge
of anger, as if to say,
"why did you break up
with that great poet who
idolized me, and took such glorious
pictures of me." It seems to be
beckoning, "Please take him
back, maybe if you do,
he won't drink so much and
disappear for days on end
with your car, and then come
back smelling of *****, and
old painted up ******."
It breaks my heart
to look at that one.
I'm almost crying as I write
this because Jezzy looks so sad, and
lonely, and a bit angry at
you for selling my collection
of baseball cards.
Check out my you tube channel where I read this poem and others.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RnWn7sX-Y4E
Aug 13 · 1.0k
Good Times
Thomas W Case Aug 13
This isn't a poem.  It's an invitation to check out
my youtube channel where I read my poetry.  Hope you like it.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1khU1Mo5AKE
There is an
eternal winter
that lingers around
my heart.
It beckons with
icy music,
gray clouds, and
marches by Wagner.
Vultures, like ghastly
puppets picking at
my brain.

I drive it away with
sunflowers and walleyes,
fish fries and the gathering
together of friends and saints,
old soldiers that beat the odds,
and the neutered con game.
Leonard Cohen overcame,
and so did I.
Life was playing chess,
While I was playing
checkers.
Well, baby, it's checkmate.

I didn't need lucky bamboo
or a four-leaf clover, I needed to
use the wisdom that God gave me.
I made some changes in my actions.
When I behaved differently, I found
serenity and a Winnie the Pooh and
Piglet sort of happiness.
I was drowning, so I grew gills and
swam away to a river that flowed
through the Million Acre Woods,
and now when I am on land,
I waltz down Love Street.
Check out my youtube channel where I read my poetry from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1khU1Mo5AKE
Aug 4 · 1.1k
Montana
We used to talk about
going
to Montana--escaping it all,
building a log cabin and
making a garden.  We were
going to hunt and fish for
food--make rugs and
hats from the fur.

But look at us now.
You live in the
city and drive a Volvo.
Goldfish in a glass bowl.
You even taught your
cat to walk on
a leash.
Can you see the
sky with all the smog?

I'm not any better.
Living under the bridge;
the only hunting I do is
for cans, the rare and
illusive
aluminum nickel, so that
I can buy *****.  

I walk down to the
river's edge and look up at
the expansive sky.
I close my eyes.
And when I open them, baby,
we're in Montana.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read poetry from my recently published book, Rise Up Collected Poems and Short Stories, available on Booksie.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1khU1Mo5AKE
Aug 2 · 198
Unholy Night
Cleanse me from
the dust of
the night, and
the apocalyptic
visions of my
slumber.
Fish guts, ****, or
insomnia may have
conjured these rotting
skin nightmares,
these mosquitoes from
hell.
I struggled to wake up,
but couldn't, and finally,
while I was flying in
a gray land of desolation,
and killers,
of nighthawks and harpies.
I soared through a
hazy wasteland, and arrived
safely back home
in my serene, August Sabbath.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1khU1Mo5AKE&t=45s
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read from my recently published book, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, available on Amazon.com
Jul 30 · 459
When the Light Came
Thomas W Case Jul 30
Night comes on like
an old hound lumbering
in from the field.
I don't fight it.
I'm getting too old.
I sit with pen in hand,
and wait for the
darkness to show
me something.

I think about vaginas and
Ireland and fish that
hunt a t night.
I think about
Bukowski and
Beethoven, and the
*******, and a kernel
of corn.
I think about my
life and this night, and
how it is better than
those near-death years of
caterwauling and chaos;
drunk by the river, lonely
as a glass snake.
I was living to drink, and
didn't give a **** about
anyone.
I was searching.
I found it
when the light came.
Here is a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry from my recent books, Seedy Town Blues Collected Poems, on Amazon and Rise Up Collected Poems and Short Stories, available on Booksie.com
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qum45hpUqrg&t=16s
Jul 28 · 456
Sleep Always Calls
Thomas W Case Jul 28
I'm going to write this.
I say that to myself, and
to you, the reader.
Every time I sit down to
work on poetry lately,
I'm overcome by lethargy.
I look at the whiteness
and go blank.
I thumb through notes,
nothing.

The thought of
lying down for
a nap rides by on
a tri-cycle in
my mind.
I hated naps as a
child, they interfered
with my plans to
conquer the world.
The coolness of the
sheets subdued me.

Instead of admitting
complete defeat,
I say to myself,
Maybe, I will wake
up refreshed and
inspired.
Perhaps, the muse will
visit in my slumber.

I retire to the bed,
Mojo, one of my cats,
Join me at the
foot.
She is soon
dreaming of catching
the elusive moth that
has been bothering
her for days.
And I will dream of
catching words like
butterflies with a big net.
Here's a link to my you tube channel where I read my poetry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_3mjQqmUguo
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