I'm no Pinocchio
Or Jonah don't you know
Stuck in the belly of this whale

How I ended up in here
Has never been made clear
Though it's clear I am by myself

Was I walking along the shore
Or a man overboard
No matter how I ended in the drink

The very next thing I know
I'm swallowed alive whole
Now this fish's belly is my brink

With its bones as prison bars
There's no doubt just where you are
No way out of this rib cage

How can a man find comfort here
Year after year after washed out year
All I do each day is plan my escape

I keep the plan inside my mind
With nothing here or where to write
Waiting for the opportunity

That this fish eats something wrong
Where a case of heartburn comes along
Setting this seasick sailor free

I whisper subliminal
Messages into his blowhole
Guiding him to the Mediterranean Sea

And to the tune of that tiny fish
The seas saltiest of salty dish
Pizza Pies friend the anchovy

While ******* tons of them in
Indigestion starts rolling in
Hanging Ten I surf the wave of burp

Landing on my two feet
To miles and miles of lovely beach
Of the Mediterraneans turf

And that my friend is where I still am
A life of tanning pasty skin
Paroled from my prison cell

Sure as how I now live
I'll never go back there again
That being the belly of the whale

Shadow, Shadow
Within my dream,
Have I dreamed you awake,
Said Lizard King To Peace Frog? Peace Frog says it's
Old anchovy, Rare bits of beef
And I can't remember the last thing I said,
Except that which I see.
Is that just a dream
Within a dream,
Or just a brush of Raven's wing? But Lizard King I dream what I dream awake,
How can that be?
Shadow sees what fades to passing, another dream
Within a dream.
And I look at the burning sun
Bleeding paint like a river.
And I think of my job,
And I think of nothing at all,
As a baby night bug crawls
Along the spiral of my page,
Invading worlds beneath my fingers.
Oceans, Worlds, Suns and
Arcs of light beyond our being. Nothing moves in silence.
Wondering of stories
Forgotten as a child,
Yet nothing's forgotten,
Yet all is forgiven.
Conciliatory Shadows,
Reckoning light,
Pink and blue and coral
Dreams of light and line
And space and Shadow
And Shadow.

Therin lies your answer
Peace Frog says to Lizard King. This welcome mat beneath you, this simple
Weaves of straw an steel,
And the streetlight bends
Behind me, then gone.
So are Lizard King and Peace Frog.
Where have they gone?
To Shadow,
To the realm of Shadow.
And I see my Father's face,
Darkening, lighting
In the streetlights.
As the stink of the factories
Fill the air.
And my Dad would talk of jazz, while I turned the radio
To Donovan, Mellow Yellow,
And its 1966.
And I think of my job,
Revolving wheels,
Sparks and Sun Dogs,
And I think of Shadow,
                          Shadow,
And red headed women
In Capris,
And the light of the sun
Blinding in noon.
Dreams of bright nothings.
Bon Bon's of scarlet.
Shadow, Shadow,
What to make of such things?
Shadow smiles as Buddha,
Says a sliver of sleep
Is all you need.
Do I cipher a riddle
From the air?
And I wonder of Shadow,
Will he haunt me forever?

Nuance and Shivers have been giving me free expression.
heh, wow. sometimes I manage to surprise even myself.
Now I'm not sure if you realize what I'm talking about,
but just in case, by chance, you hadn't noticed my pain,
I am not having the time of my life. Ha!
He doesn't see the humor in my punchlines,
although, it's just fine since they weren't supposed to be heard.
NOT by ANYONE but ME anyways.
Sometimes I get annoyed by having to write things with proper grammar.
Like, whats the point in wasting time pressing this key on the keyboard '
' ' ' 'this and ' ' ' ''' ' ' ''' '' '' its almost just too much for me to handle.
especially when people get annoyed by it.
It's like when apples say "help help! I"m drowning in syrup."
Did they think the birds were going to answer with a "Fried anchovy pizza though?"
And if you think this poem doesn't make sense, then I don't mind. Just don't go,
and rock the boat saying "Life wasn't meant to be made fun of"
because it was.
I am allowed to call myself freeweekmickyfree because of something a friend of mine
once said about himself at a party while drunk. even though it wasn't about me,
I think I have every right to do what fits.
would you tell someone who didn't fit into a pair of short shorts that they looked ugly in them?
NO. Of course you wouldn't, of course that's assuming your not as arrogant as a song bird in July.
And mostly at this point you couldn't be able to tell if i'm trying to be funny, by using random words, or if i'm being serious and using symbolic phrases to imply that
I might just not be okay. There's a slight chance that... well lets just say my eggs haven't flown the coop, because they don't have wings yet, but they might as well stay cracked like the cement on a sidewalk that has been corroded through the years due to excessive break dancing by some kids from the 80's who thought it was cool at the time.
So lets just sit back and relax for once to watch the magic take its seat in a chair at the movie place watching a new movie featuring myself playing the harmonica for hours and making jokes about how babies aren't babies and they are really baby skeletons or some crap like that. lets just sit back and relax for once, and watch the free... falling... piece of paper.. make the hardest landing it would ever face.

a pizza topping
should freeze or heat before use
the anchovy fish

this one goes out
to all you habitual symbolphrenics
style monsters invading the me precinct
bow only before your own image
for we are each a TV studio
selling loneliness as a communal experience
find the station that lets you
find all the other stations
or play dumb and ride your rocket cycle
like there's no other traffic
so hey kids let's learn something new
and dine with the revolution
the information revolution you sod
being deaf to the tea kettle not an option
2-D carcass straight to your door
in a two lane blacktop sun baked minute
best haute cousine squealing wheels can buy
have a beer relax put your feet up
recall that consciousness is tuneable
so tune in to my next act which will be
to answer all your pregnant questions
and awaken you to the fairy tale kingdom
hail the King and his syphilis
smelling of chainsaw oil and circus sawdust
make you ***** up your existence tax
with really huge detector molecules
a Macy's Parade of lighter than air daydreams
from whence gallop in a clatter
the harassing Fusiliers of Wrackworm
sputtering judgmental patriarchs
maniquinkind doomed and destroyed
a colorful example of paintball diplomacy
his only safety was the anchovy hunters
were never as numerous as their prey
the indecisive semioticians could
**** with that for hours wink wink
because this is all highly experimental
and nerve wracking inquisitional
your reward for coughing in the theater
did you get the message
wink wink light the fuse and run
because what you don't know can
explode your viscera with surprise
never apologize to or for yourself
pain is not a higher nerve path
touch your finger to your temple
and smile like a Cheshire tabby
whose tuba nesting playpal mice
belch nobly alongside the elephants
the customer can do no wrong

From "Engine of Didactic Beauty" available on Amazon