Sable & satin dreams
she's with me with eyes closed
but dissappears at the break of eve
at the brink of reprieve
you come back to me
every time,
what is it you seek

I know you feel all alone
even with me here
I wish I could be more to you
though I know I alone am not enough
I try to push you out
out of the house
on the road
down and out
my luck is **** with this stuff
and I never get it right with words;
I just want for you to blossom

many intertwined lineages
have I been the result of
from whence my people have come
the wealthes of their lives
the zero and sum
rail-men, bootleggers, c.e.os and c.f.os
simple tradesmen and
practitioners of medicines
and am I of the most reticent
to commitment

ripping the flowers
out of my hands
and the saying
is spring brings showers
and it is the youth of my life
so some rain is expected
just need a promise
it's merely
partly cloudy

calls for resignation
disgrace, dishonor, desecration
of the office held
the law venerated
you talk of people
like chattel
to be corralled, choded
castigated
but hold yourself
to no such judgement
you're a problem
of your own making

if I am not for myself
who will be for me
but if I am for myself, alone
who am I

words of a better man
but I can understand them
and therein
exemplify them

we are pinned
like the cushion
of an elderly knitter
and next to me
a young private
chatters and fritters
fresh recruit
and I get the sense
runt of the litter
up and over
quickly gone,
I sit,
waiting for winter

are you good enough for me?
am I good enough
for you
is the better question
don't lessen your worth
just because you're hurt

I write these little love notes
really to myself
just cause I can't rant them to you
but still need to rattle them off
for my health

even in the ranks of the angels
there is no status
they could give you

i might be small
i can't tell
one sensitive *******
with nerves shot to hell
stature means a **** thing
when you're up to bat
and can't hit
or even worse
choke and don't;
no swing, but still missed

on the outskirts
the very beginning
a torrent rains
like knives from the sky
and every man is a monsoon
and every woman a hurricane
God, the lord
help me

such a wretched feeling as this,
I should wish
for others not to feel,
but it's of no use
wishes fall to mutes
dead tongues and deaf ears,
but hear this,
I wish you were here

call me
run your fingers through my hair
give me signs
you're at least there

and I will submit,
on my knees,
if you want me to be

the idea I made you feel shamed
or caused you anguish
is such a wretched feeling

I can recall
joy like a fog light
cutting through
the hazy swamp gas
this fly trap
of a headpiece is
at least I have something to give

things you said
play on repeat
in my head
this isn't how I want it
but at least you're okay

a lifetime
it will take a lifetime
of welts and pain and things I didn't necessarily had to forgo
because
I don't know
it's clear I struggle
obscured and muddled
my mind is
drugged and over-doubled
and if it all gets to me
know it isn't you

delta blues
and in the evening
with the sun goin' down
ramble at the shipyard
last to pull
up to dock
this ain't the place
you can scramble for a spot
know your place
and place your shots
the road is long
but the fall is short
when you're gunnin' for the top

what is there to say?
have you got the time?
to hear me rattle
to infinity
what you mean to me
just the mere mention
confounds convention
and all the wisdom and strength
I have is gone
at the sight of you
cat take my tongue
for it won't be long
till I still holler for you
though voice be gone

**** me
and this rotten outcome

chief tactician of my chest
the heart
and my head
this brain
a cargo depot
transient thoughts
like vagabonds
hopping on between stops
and a few old engines
never more to run

not much to be said
that of the dead
things only left
to keep the blood pumping
things that in slumber
moaned
cried, belted, and wept

that silence won

I cannot erase the past
at last,
it's clear,
even the blemishes add to its splendor

an alias
strange to think
it's the norm
with all this tech
it becks and moans
calling for a signature
beeps and drones
it's a figure
of how you'd like to be perceived
and a reflection of self perception
you churn out
for the world to see
and though the original
stated intent
has morphed beyond recognition,
beyond belief,
these days
it's just apart
of being

through the glades
staring back
she cranes her neck
and meets my stare
she is graceful, peacefully
we lay what we have to bare
though little burdens this doe
for what can she share
when life is death
and her existence
are the small moments
of tranquility
in these qauint clearings
to rest
from the endless hunt
and calm from the leering
she was of a notion;
laissez-faire

is there some sting
to these words of mine
is there time?
make sense of this
you work forty hours a week
and still can't meet
the standard your parents did
what gives?
put in the hours
but don't dream of ivory
can't you see
that's not for you or me
our ilk works, sweats, and bleeds
oh, you can dream
but that's all they can be
so don't waste your day
in a happy lull
with a head fixed
on material ****
move ahead
and let's fix this

play that
avant-garde, Archie
roll that stone,
HST
bust a nut, in a
case for the century
Woodward & Bernstein
convolut and confuse
and diffuse some of that tension rising
the crook with a room at Watergate
TRICKY ****
well known for the lying
you can infiltrate
and propagate hate
from here to Asia
but it's the folks at home
who will grab you by the *****
and castrate ya

something left out,
something left out,
someone I left
and let go
so far
not so long ago
and I don't know
I'm not so experienced
with this love thing
you said a lot
but what's to be said
when you too left

you might ***** and moan
but I brood
like a hen over dead eggs
the stress builds
and gnaws at me
incessantly

the beauty
of kindness
it's infinite surplus
the appreciation garnered
and it costs nothing,
priceless,
and more often than not
you're paid back,
even in just a smile

paces the hall
all amok with tracks
the stench of sweat
of fear, and progress
ill or fair?
the verdict still out,
best digress

cronies spit on meritocracy
hucksters love the aristocracy
and grifters don't care
so long as things go their way
another check, another day
if you got them greenbacks
you get a say
otherwise, zip your lips
and walk away

I got an angle
it's love, conditional
dig?
cause that's how we do it
keep your
brother-sister *******
sing a sad song
***** another wall
burn a new bridge
just promise me
it ain't takin' long
cause I'm not waiting around

en route
I'm telling you
I'm gonna be there soon
you keep hitting snooze
don't know what you have
but it's something you're gonna lose

God I'm a cynic
at times
I want the world to burn,
I want to die
look up in the sky
and think of the limitless possibilities
everyone out there
hurting
so many possibilities
and joy seems
so distant

these are geniuses
these titans of industry
using their wealth of knowledge
to pursue unimaginable avenues
of unadulterated greed
soar to heights
unable to be touched
cold, as the air is thin
up there
with no care
and no connection to anything human

you can make
morning midnight
but you brighten dark days too
and, on the whole,
I'm happy to say
I have you

somebody's ******
floating in my soft drink
I should have ordered hard

the ice is raw
lines still there
fresh from skating

and the atmosphere
in here
is something like a graveyard

the cat isn't out of the bag
they're beating on it
still covered in burlap
butterflies all havin' fun
gone, as spring
draws near its end
and if there are fumbles,
that's saying the least of it,
it's all we seem to be able
to muster these days

you are tired
and I am tired
of the status quo
of
the way things go,
it's not something we can say any longer,
with gaze casted down
and held tongues
we must be stronger

I wrote a draft
I'll circle back
when thoughts coalesce
instead of collapse
when I have
a better grasp
of what exactly I intend to mean

stoke the flame
buried within you
fan it
with hope
and if it has gone out?
spark it again

when the sun dwindles
I'm left with a hollow feeling
what's in healing
when I still hurt

into the cistern of your soul
casting petty judgements
not of a proper mind,
I think you're fine

more drivel
like autonomic
pouring from these flapping lips
am I comfortable with silence
or can't I stand my thoughts

this is
someone else's dream
pictures of a dead sea
corpses strewn about me
living an eternity
subsiding
in irrelevancy

being begets being
bringing suffering
surrendering
a tearing of the flesh
wailing

because the air is cold

this life
is never truly lived
we're all too focused
choking down *******
and those of us that aren't
are too concerned
creating trouble
for the rest of us

long-winded,
catch a breath friend
between words
the conversation needn't end
you speak, and you'll be heard

our misfortune
that democracy in our country
is broken,
with our public institutions
in the stranglehold
of an inept elite ruling class
and our money hoarded
*******, by those that don't understand
how to spend it
and refuse to profligate
that dollar they diefy