I had that recurring dream again last night.
Awakening with a start.
Perspiration was
Pouring down my face.
The car, the children,
Molly my wife.

The heavy truck spinning in front
on the icy new York   freeway.
Explosions so loud they deafened me.
Then the silence the total quietness
as they drifted away.
And i was left alone.

I moved out of the tiny inner-city cottage.
Is was now over  two years ago
but I just left it the way it was.
The kid's toys strewn on the floor.
Bread and cookies on the table.
I would never return there,  never.
Not even to get my beloved alto sax.
the key for me to making a living.

I followed the cop every day?
The one that pulled me from the wreck.
I did not know why i did this,
Sure she was pretty enough.
But that was not it.

I was once told that if you save
Someone's life they belong to you.
Well, she could have his life.
He did not want it anymore.

She entered the bank
He saw the robbery before she did.
The robber lifted his weapon before
She had time to move.
Without fear or forethought,I jumped
in front of her
and took a bullet for her.

It was in the arm straight in and out.
She put three in the perp,
dropping him dead.
before he could fire another shot.

I fell down she held me in her arms.
As I was bleeding out.
Why did you do that, she said
I would have been killed.
That's why
I whispered.

She visited me in hospital
Brought me grapes
I hate ******* grapes.

She had no idea who I was
When the car wreck happened
I was covered in blood and EMS
Ran me to the hospital.
Names don't stay with people
Only faces.

When I got out of the hospital.
She appeared at my rented room door.
With a coffee and doughnuts
I don't talk much since…..well just since.
Who the **** are you she asked
A God ******  Angel.
I said I don't think God dams his angels.

She seemed to like me.
**** knows why
I wasn't nice to her.
She started looking for me on her shift.
Grabbing a coffee and suggesting dates.
I told her no offense lady
don't arrest me.
But I don't date anymore.

But she was a New York cop.
and a woman,
******* relentless.
She said she would make life hell for me
If I didn't take her for a date.
******* women.

I gave in and said I would join her
At the blues club nearby.
We got there at 10 pm after her shift
She looked ******* hot.
Not like a ******* cop anymore.
The blues were playing
I heard the alto sax wailing
It cried tears
like my soul was feeling.
But my souls eyes were dry.

She saw the tears welling in my eyes
And held me to her soft breast.
Tell me what it is
Is it me she asked?
I was just silent.

The owner of the club saw me.
He said, Tony
where the ******* been man.
It's been two years since you came here.
We miss your sax wailing boy.
He said where's your sax?
Don't you have it anymore?
I shook my head it was a lie
But I had my reasons.

He grabbed the alto sax
from the band playing.
Make it weep Tony.
My heart needs to hear you play man.
I moved quietly to the stage.
And the room went silent.
Just as if the Angel Gabriel
was going to wail his horn.

They remembered me they stood up
and clapped for five minutes.
Blues people don't change.
They just get ******* older.

I said nothing.
But played nature boy.

Peggy got up and took the mike
She wept the words as I played.
Tears falling down
her old sad blackface.

……..There was a boy
A very strange enchanted boy
They say he wandered
very far, very far
Overland and sea
A little shy and sad of eye
But very wise was he…….

My cop was crying too.
She said I don't cry ever see.
I am a cop I see ****.
Who the **** are you she said?
But I let the sax wail for my words.
It poured my sadness into the night.

She got my full name from Peggy.
She says that boy needs a woman.
But then a woman is Peggy's
answer to all men's problems.

She run the info though the computers
at the precinct.
those ******* things
Know every leak you ever take.

She saw the car wreck
the body bags.
Me, covered in blood.
She knew it all.
I was exposed.

She even found my mother in law's place.
And went there.
She said he's heartsick honey.
He won't go home.
Won't let anyone in.
He blames himself.
He's never cried once
It's eating him inside.

She said I can't find him
Do you know where he is?
He's over at the cemetery.

She missed her shift change over.
And went to the Park Lawn
I  was kneeling by a family
grave talking to my kids.

She went to me and slipped
Her arm around me
,I turned my head
Into her breast.
she kissed my head.
and I wept and wept.
I sobbed like my alto sax wailed.

She kissed my eyes.
Let it out, honey
Let it all go
Don't stop let it go
.
She drove us to my house
The mess was on the floor.
The stale food stank.
It was in a mess a disaster.
The kid's toys spread everywhere.
My sax on the hall table.
saying nothing
she started cleaning it up.

She said quietly.
Did I not save your life right?
I  said yes you did.
And you saved mine right
I said yes I did.
She said
Unless we both say  that
we're even stevens.
You know what it means.

He nodded
Yeah...I know.
It means
We belong to each other now.
You got it straight McGraw she quipped.

Two years later
Tony came back from his gig
at the blues club.
He had a recording contract in his pocket.
The money would come in real handy
What with their second baby
coming in a few months.
Kids were pricey little buggers.

What does it mean

To be a Mommy, a Mom, or a Mother?

A Mommy…carries you for nine months.
Her feet swell and she can’t sleep well.
She sings to her belly waiting for her miracle to come.
She rushes to the hospital, staying strong but scared all at once.
She lets your older sister hold you before she even does because your sister was so excited to finally have a little girl in the family.
She spends sleepless nights trying to persuade you to close your eyes.
She sings “You are My Sunshine,” “Once upon a Dream,” and “An Irish Lullaby” as you drift off to sleep with her comforting voice.
She cradles you in her arms, hoping the tight blanket wrapped around your tiny body will prevent you from growing up too soon.
She lets your hand go as you take your first steps, the little bells on your shoes jingling away.
She watches your bright eyes discover the dark world she was afraid to bring you into.
She teaches you everything she knows.
How to be kind, how to tie your shoes, how to apologize, and mean it.
She sits on the edge of the bed reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar and rewinds Mulan for the hundredth time that day.
She showers you with love and you don’t realize how lucky you are.
She holds your tiny hand in hers as she shows you what life has to offer.

A Mom…helps you with all the school projects you bring home, and let’s be honest, she does it all for you.
She picks you up from school every day, an hour after school was out. The teachers started to become accustom to this routine.
She makes dinner for you every night. You never went to bed hungry.
She asks you to pick up your toys and to not leave them laying around the house.
She scolds you for constantly picking on your little siblings.
She jams out to Tim McGraw, Faith Hill, and Eminem in her big red van with the windows rolled down on a warm summer day.
You stay up until the sun rises the next day watching whatever came on TV because you’re both night owls.
She makes you a pink heart shaped cake every year for your birthday decorated with your favorite princess figurines.
She reminds you when you get on her nerves that she gave you your life, and she can take it away.
She sits on the edge of the bed, blow drying your hair, while you doze off from the warmth and security of her love.
You look at her and know she is the woman you want to be one day, so you live each day with the kindness and compassion she bestowed upon you.
She is quiet but you’re too young to think anything of it besides being soft spoken and modeling yourself after her.

A Mother…reminds you to finish your homework before you watch TV.
She sits in the passenger seat, telling you every five seconds to “slow down” or “don’t get too close”.
She gets mad when you don’t help out around the house as much as you used to.
She says you spend too much time with your friends.
She’s waves proudly from the crowd as you walk across the stage, accepting your diploma.
She tells you, “Why don’t you pay for it? You have a job.”
She says you spend too much time with your boyfriend.
She tells you that you don’t need all that makeup to look pretty.
She asks you where you’re going but you just want to be independent.
She feels like her little girl is slipping away.
She sits on the edge of the bed, but this time you’re all grown.
You’ve been hurt badly. A cut so deep you think it won’t ever heal
You’ve been crying for days because a boy broke your heart.
You’re confused and lost. You feel like you could never be happy again.
She sits on the edge of the bed.
She listens as you sob, asking yourself what you ever did to deserve such cruelty, all the while still hoping he’ll take you back.
Then she tells you
About the boy that broke her heart.
How she thought that was the end for her. She didn’t want to go on after he left.
And then you realize that your mom is human.
She isn’t superwoman, a princess, or an angel.
No.
She’s you.
Because everything she’s experienced, she’s survived, and it made her the woman she is today. Faults and all.
And she raised you to be like her.
She raised you to realize that sorry little boys don’t deserve the time you give them.
She raised you to be strong, honest, loyal, and most importantly, kind.
And after that night, you never loved your mother more than you do now.
Because she’***** rock bottom, but survived.
And you now see the courageous woman that she is.
And one day, when you’re sitting on the edge of the bed singing to your daughter, “You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear how much I love you. Please. Don’t take my sunshine away.” You realize that the sunshine doesn’t last forever, but it always comes back after the dark nights.

And after that dark night, the sun rose.
And you gave your mother a hug.
A real hug.
One like that little girl who called her mommy would give her.
Because you never want to lose your sunshine.

Happy Mother’s Day Mom.

Love,
Ashley

Music is my Muse
From the funky jazz tempo
To the sounds of salsa
From the classical rock
To the alternative basses
From the Opera Lady's bellow
To the Tenors solo
From the 80's slow jamz
To them 50's swinging bands,
To them country folk songs
To those old folks blues
Music is my Muse,
My inspiration,
Being Black&Puerto; Rican
I- A NuYorican,
I've heard the best tunes,
Bahchata's & Merengue,
Bailes La Cumbias,
Like Macr Anthony &
oh how he sang to me,

My wanting
to rock with you like
Micheal Jackson-
To Vanilla's
Ice Ice Baby,
It's yo thang do what you wanna do,
Candy coated Rain drops
By Soul For Real,
& When will I see you Again-
Babyface
Until I muse
in my amusement
When Tim McGraw  
Sanged don't take the girl,
Reba "Asking Does
He love me like
he's been loving YOU",
To its my prerogative
Like Bobbi Brown said,
Let not for get
Johnny Cash,
Or what About them
O'Jays
Yeah my muse is musical-
Music and thinking artfully
coincides with one another,
with breathing and  eating
Rhyme & Rhythm linguistics
even as we walk down the street
or cruising
while jamming in ya car,
LL Cool J said Cars drive
by with the booming Systems-
AH Push it was
My jam back in the day
R&B; Was mostly what I liked
But growing Up
I started listening to
Rock & Hip Hop,
Got drunk off those sweet
Monster Ballads
while Making love
to Sade,
Sung All Cried Out
at my graduation party,
Tony Toni Tone
Made Us-FEEL GOOD YEAH
at all them block parties
back in NYC,
Now
I listen to everything
going on 33
heard it through the grape vine
that YOU share
a likeness in this Musing?
Music is My Muse.
Always Me Ayeshah

Since 1876 the building had stood
In the middle of town
In a bad neighbourhood
But, empty for decades
And an eyesore to some
She was no longer "The Lady"
And her time had come

The old man sat there staring
As the charges were set
To bring down "The Lady"
he would not forget
His first visit inside her
In nineteen and ten
He'd been inside her much more
he figured since then

Talking to no one,
For no one was there
He talked of her being
He talked to the air
"She started out as a theater"
"Built by Colonel Tom Shaw"
"To showcase an actress"
"Known as Katie McGraw"

"He built her a showcase"
"To play many roles"
"But, Katie...instead"
"had other life goals"
"It stayed as a theater"
"Until Colonel Tom Died"
"Others took over"
"and failed as they tried"
"To bring in top talent"
"To play on the stage"
"But by then, yes then...vaudeville"
"Was now all the rage"

New owners and concepts
Vaudeville died
To keep it afloat as a theatre
Many had tried
A store full of trinkets
Of baubles and rings
A department store future
And the money it brings
The next incarnation
Was in retail not show
And for twenty odd years
They gave it a go

"The Lady" adapted
and was a great place to buy
But, her past as a theater
Well, it never would die
New owners took over,
A cabaret place
Was the next incarnation
She had a new face
"The Lady" was re-done
With tables for meals
Great entertainers
and she held wide appeal

"I remember Bob Darin..."
"Dean Martin and Jerry"
"Came here in to town"
"And they all made quite merry"
"Great singers and shows"
"Kept "The Lady" on point
"But, tastes changed again"
"a new King they'd annoint"
"Elvis, came through here"
"Played "The Lady", two shows"
"But, rock and roll stars"
"Don't come up where it snows"

"The Lady" closed up
became a hostel for a time
To hide all her beauty
Was truly a crime
She's been a store and a warehouse
And a place that made hats
But for thirty odd years
She's been home to some cats
Derelict, vacant...no one comes round
It's about time for "The Lady"
To be knocked to the ground

Some piegeons and vagrants
The bats, cats and owls
all leave in the morning
When the cityscape howls
The owner, not caring
Signed off on her long ago
It's been fifty odd years
Since she housed her last show

Her boards held up Jolson
George Burns, ***** Brice
And I said, she housed Elvis
He played here twice
But, now "The Lady"
Sits and waits for the call
Of the man in the crane
With the old wrecking ball

The old man, wiped his eyes
And he turned from the scene
"I would remember
"Of how she had been"
"A palace of talent"
"A place one should be"
"Now, she's only a relic"
"But she's "The Lady" to me.

I'm not into Tim Mcgraw.
And might never be.
I'm not even into Faith Evan although country is a vital part of me.

Some might say, I'm missing a lot.
It's just not country music to me.
But acts trying to be rock stars.

Now, name the Statler Brothers or Mel Tillis.
Or Loretta Lynn to Reba then you talking directly to me.
I was country long before the change.

Can name legendary acts that others stars can't name.

Marty Robbons, Roger Miller and others isn't hardly mention today.
Unless someone's doing a tribute act to them.
But these was artist that contribute to the country music today.

They might have worn glitter suits and played guitars.
And yes, some probably was too conceited to be a true star.
I was country long before the change.

I remember Dolly singing upon the Porter Wagoner show.
Yes, long before she had her own personal show.
I even remember those artists Waylon, Willie and others being called outlaws.

And I guess this is when this field beginned to change.
Still I was country long before the change.

But in truth nothing ever remain the same.
We all must accept growth.
Simply for the facts it brings a growth to us.
Even if I'm listening to Carrie Underwood and that Jason dude.

Blonde, blue eyed, suburban, two hundred percent American
the nation hangs on the perky point of your nose as your
corn silk corkscrew curls are straightened, and you fly to Paris
to collide with fellow shooting stars, but you never forget that boy,

although there are quite a few, lyrics recycling their smiles like
Splenda confectionary tissues. Your melodies are one note harmonies
on the discord of Romantic Middle Class Mediocrity, saccharine
apples in a shiny package for teens who haven't bitten life too deep.

But there is still a boy in a red pickup truck, teardrops and Tim McGraw.
The girl next door has a backbone of country strong and books filled with
silly, sweet, strawberry sodapop songs, slipping over herself in earnest
for the rawness of four chords about love, ends that spiral back to beginnings.

The Way I Loved You
Blackout (Acoustic)
My Paper Heart
This Broken Heart
Since I've been Loving You
Tim McGraw
Being Your Walls
Wake Up
The Man Who Can't Be Moved
No It Isn't
Love Drunk
The Suffering
When Your Heart Stops Beating
Cute Without The "E"
Always Love
Irreplaceable
Goodbye
******
Whatsername
Flake
155
Somebody Else's Arms
Just Friends
Everything You Want
Gives You Hell
The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows
Halo
Should've Said No
Forget December
Like We Used To
Naive
A Decade Under The Influence
Crashing
Wet Sand
Tell Me Why
Konstantine

this is The Way I Loved You
through your Blackout (Acoustic)
as My Paper Heart,
This Broken Heart,
has been Since I've Been Loving You,
Tim McGraw.
Being Your Walls
has shown me I need to Wake Up.
like The Man Who Can't Be Moved,
I've realized this isn't love, No It Isn't.
I was Love Drunk,
I've been through The Suffering,
and I always thought I'd be there When Your Heart Stops Beating.
you are Cute Without The "E",
something deep inside of me, because I will Always Love you.
I am consoled to know that I am Irreplaceable.
Goodbye
******,
Whatsername, does it matter?
you're a Flake
155.
you'll be in Somebody Else's Arms
even though you said you were Just Friends,
but I know you're thinking of me, because  I always gave you the Best of Me.
I am Everything You Want
and now that I'm gone, I hope that Gives You Hell.
in you I've seen all The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows,
even your Halo,
but you Should've Said No.
Forget December, I want it no more.
I want it to be Like We Used To.
I was so Naive, dealing with you.
it felt like I spent A Decade Under The Influence,
as things came Crashing down
onto the Wet Sand.
so help me understand, comprehend, Tell Me Why?
my Konstantine.

I sit here singing along to Tim Mcgraw
as the hail tries to crack my window open
between thunderclaps
I need you
I need you
Whoever you are
I need you

From hood to hood
you can catch me smokin' blackwoods
to dutches & boone farm liqour quicker
than Draw Mcgraw **** the law raw
with this tale i tell no fails as i sail
deep into the ocean
takin' me to higher notion
Of **** this! & **** that!
so many don't know how act
When fame grows it comes & goes from fresh kicks to calicos
Pistol shinin' death waitin' for signs and
i lay low  beyond the radar
Keep my head above the waters still slaughter
contenders they get no love from me
my heart pumps faster than a hummingbird
no koolaid too many gettin' sprayed
over dumb **** butthurt over modest sentiment
no time to repent cuz ill probably die in sin
but then again ill be reincarnated as a human
Which dates back when
i was born full of scorn souls torn into pieces
i patchin' up the scattered pieces
Hear my thesis
that i was made to be a culprit **** i can't find no peace
went from a hoopty to cadillac to ******* in the back
Chokin' on my ******* 
Now that im ballin' but still i find myself stallin' fallin' to stereotype
Since I'm vigilant and ripe
Listenly closely
i don't follow the hypppppEEEE!!!!

Yo!! I make sure my cut
Remains Raw Quick draw Mcgraw
/take more shots than Brian Shaw
Above the Law/
with my Seagal Tactics
Suckas get rapped in Plastic
trying to match my Ballistics i got Statistics
/to show and prove
been Raw since Daddy Kane
Insane in the Membrane
check my Rhyme Asylum/Dumb
Co-Ill Lyrics Turn up my Vocals so u Can Hear it/
Tear it
Cuz its Causin Brain Hemorrhage to the Masses im a Super Savage
Causin Carnage/
no Survivors in my Battlefield take that Pitch ill Swing on ya like
G Sheffield/
Real Deal like Holyfield
Pedigrees Shaken
like its Holy Ghost Filled Billed
/Signed Sealed and Delivered
by the Devil to Acheive Multiple Levels/
Stay on my Grind
No Yellow Bricks to Follow Never Borrow/
Distribute my own Arsenal
take **** Personal/
if u ever feelin' Froggy/
ill make u get like the House of Pain and Jump Around/
Copper lead to your Head now u 6ft in the Ground/Pound 4 Pound
i can take/cuz when i Make my Point i Even make the Mountains Shake!!
hittin' u with the Acoustic-
Once Moooore
makin' SUre i Keep Things Rawww!!!!

"we're going to
sarah's church
this sunday"
you said.

"you're
going to sarah's
church this sunday"
i said.

and you gave
me that fishy
look you've been
giving me every
saturday night
for the last month
"why don't you
want to go to church?"

well i have my reasons
tucked up with abstracted
pushpin waves on
bible class corkboards
and poked into the corners
of empty white rooms
where abrasive carpet wore
my feet into odd patterns

sitting on my splintered
windowsill and listening to
things i wasn't invited to
something with singing and all i
really recall was sawing off warts
with a pocketknife while i listened

those early days
before the roof was
fixed were when the
trouble started.

"because
i'm not."

that's not much
of an explanation
but neither is
the truth
which by the way
i didn't mention

i didn't mention the
way i felt last night
when i looked at
year old photo effects
or the hitch in my chest
the last time i listened
to dan's cds
the way i ***** shut my eyes
and try to keep breathing
every time you drive by
what used to be woods or
someone else's welcome sign

"i like this song"
you said in the car
and i felt the bloodied swallow
of mismarked communion wine
like my first taste of hate
so many years gone now
surging down my
closed and slit throat

tim mcgraw was wrong
don't go to church because
your mama says to
don't go to church because
anybody says to
it won't get you into heaven
but it might get you
anxiety and a hospital bill.

(maybe i'm so critical
of christians because
christians were
critical of me
but hey that's just
a random thought)

and i don't talk about
how when i see the faces
of strangers that i
memorized between
the lost references of
out-of-context verses
all i see are reflections
of white words i typed
into their irises
i typed too fast.

and i was just too
tired to say that
large-scale screens
drive me over the edge
too tired to imply
once more that i
have turned into a
college-student statistic

one who has
more behind her
motives than
pure apathy.

so having thought all this
i repeated myself
"you're going to
sarah's church this week"
and wished you could
understand my reasons.

Yea its ya boy Yosef
Back up in this *****
******* up be my clique
Comin with a mellow pitch
That old school mix
Like an ounce of fix
Entering into ya veins
Hard for ya to maintain as i drain
All nerves of ya brains
Im stuck on you like white draws
With **** stains
Yea im stretchin it a bit
Leave haters n spectators
Constipated no **** i spit
Quikker than Mcgraw F the law  
Destined to be an outlaw
Outkast
Ima back to take whats righfully mind grind
Harder than the next
So i got smarter read up a few books
Of mastermind crooks
Got ***** looks
From peeps who doubted me
But im sittin lovely like r kelly
Why dont ya fly with me
Away on a journey
No mansions be around me
I live in in trees enjoying the breeze
Burning scents smoke out tents
To talk to my ancestries
To help me point out my adversaries
The punch rounds  leave with a hole in the ground
Dont worry never scurry hurry hurry
Come one come all
Dont step to me or else meet ya downfall
As i continue to ball


Cooler than an orangutan
eating a tangerine
Messy me im just doing my thangs
Rhymes insane poetry blow ya brain
As ya journey into my mind
Mad lyricist ignorance is bliss
So take a kiss
Mouth full of funk n skunk
Eliminate punks then they the trunk
Full of junk
Girls ***** blunts  to ashes
Hit skins so hard im leavin rashes
Like stacy
Made her dash
Not an ATLIENS but houstonian
Reppin da da ***** south
With golds in my mouth
Custom made where all the playaz was made
From a **** a players card to the call of tha wild  still i smiled
Though a probem child
So sit back as i count off three two to the one
Lift off preparin for mission armageddon
We aint lettin'
Go holdin it down the industry its like my baby i claim income taxes
Cuz i carry music with love and divinity.when ya see me take it eazy
I pray only in the dark never in the sunlight
Only to radiate my skins cells
No fairytale this nonficiton
Words i speak is true after eternal revenue
Makin venues as we drop vogues
And continue to hit you...

It is sudden and total
distinguishing and dangerous
fluctuating and gives no warning
occurring frequently but is always present
relatively a much more complicated phenomenon
the initiation is dark and repeated in very large numbers
different members fracture from the tension
gradually the level strain will yield
but then time can and will vary
until we’re static again.


Source: Richard G. Budynas and J. Keith Nisbett, “Shigley’s Mechanical Engineering Design”, McGraw Hill, 2015

There’s tale upon tale told
In praise of Washington’s Big Train
And the horsehide deeds of Old Pete
Shall be told often and again.
And honest Matty, the Big Six
Hurl’d more than a gem or two,
But they can’t match The Rainmaker
Tossed by Pittsburgh Dan McGrew.

He’d come by train from Keokuk
As green as a patch of clover;
And though he stood ‘bout six-foot-three
Weighed one-forty or just over.
He sauntered up to the owner
Mister Dreyfus? I’m Dan McGrew,
And I am the damnedest pitcher
That anyone has ever knew.

Old Barney found himself amused
By such a gangly cow-town rube
So the boss man and Freddy Clarke
Thought they’d have some fun with this ****.
There’s Wagner—can you strike him out?
His reply left them in stitches.
I reckon that won’t be too hard;
I should only need three pitches.

Oh, so your fastball is that good?
Skipper Clarke said with a chuckle
Don’t throw one, so Clarke said aghast
Can your curve make Hans’ knees buckle?
He shook his head, Nope, don’t throw that,
As he grinned like a wiseacre.
Got just one pitch, that’s all I need,
And I call it The Rainmaker.

They called the Dutchman to the plate
To knock him back to I-o-way
And he swung early and swung late
But couldn’t put one into play
And Wagner grunted, moaned and screamed
But found he couldn’t hit his stuff;
Whatever this Rainmaker was
It sure was plenty good enough.

He tossed the ball twenty feet high
Just a soft lob with a stiff wrist
And a slight twitch of his fingers
To give it just a little twist
Oh, it might swoop like a falcon
Or drift as softly as a dove
And often it would come down wet
From touching rain clouds up above.

The clubs in the senior circuit
Found themselves flummoxed by this lad:
He no-hit the Bees in Beantown
And drove the Cubs and Redlegs mad.
He hasn’t got enough to hit!
They growled in Brooklyn and Philly,
But his ledger said otherwise;
A gaudy twenty-six and three.

The final day of the season
Found the Buccos and Giants tied,
And no one doubted who would be
Taking the hill for Pittsburgh’s side
For New York, Matty took the hill
And both hurlers were simply great
Not one batter had crossed home plate
As the two clubs completed eight.

The Giants bench hooted at him
That beanpole throws like a girlie!
But he got Doyle to pop up
And then fanned Snodgrass on just three
The next Giant to reach the plate
Was the hard-hitting Red Murray
And John McGraw said Now he’s done,
Red will chase him in a hurry.

But Murray tapped the first pitch foul
And missed the second one outright
The Pittsburgh bench now taunted him
Good morning, good noon and goodnight!
McGrew than tossed one up so high
His catcher swore it clipped a bird
And then Dan strolled right off the mound
As not a soul uttered a word.

The old ballpark is long gone now
And those who toiled the same;
That pitch still lives in infamy
As does the pitcher and the game.
The Bucs have had other heroes
With deeds and feats of great renown
But they still speak of Dan McGrew
And his pitch which never came down.

We become the stories we tell.
What the hell? That

Is a common question not answerable.
Lack of link, what what the hell?
AI ignore it, we call it another idle phrase,
used to express befuddlement.

A curious fuzziness. Impulse to pull
sense from a hat. Threaded thoughtwise.
Ha, I've a mind…

Fiddle with the tuner, the ****'s a little loose.

Hushshshsh, gentle gentleman, wisdom whispers
listen
easy is never the bad way, the hard way, offers glory,
dare the devil and win, the right way, -- walking away.

ignorant bliss, buzzing beings wished, was
available this morning,
sunshine, softly singing silly kids morning noises,
calling out countdowns to the chrome yellow bus…

Goodbye, Columbus. Literary allusion to unread books.
And shirtless Ali McGraw, in the movie. Artsy flick.
And then, Far from the Maddened Crowd, same chick…
with me, at the movies, not in the movie, me
and Blue, whose brothers I barely knew, we
saw three films together, we had raw unpleasing ***,
three curiously wondering why we only saw highbrow films.

Third one was Gordon Parks, The Learning Tree.

There was one movie house in the town.
It was a four-square spinoff revival church by 1985.

Really,  you know how lucky you are, boy, knowing
"to be"
as the answer we all answer Hamlet, in each role
his messed up character, appears in to offer
the one real question,
as if being were once a choice, each day…

ah, we. E-t, et et-ern
from Latin aeternus
"of an age, lasting, enduring, permanent, everlasting, endless,"
contraction of aeviternus
"of great age,"
from aevum "age"
(from PIE root *aiw-
"vital force, life; long life, eternity").
Good men, wombed or un, must
Endure unto the end…

from Latin indurare "make hard,"
in Late Latin
"harden (the heart) against,"
from in- (from PIE root *en "in") + durare
"to harden," f
rom durus "hard," f
rom PIE *dru-ro-, suffixed variant form
of root *deru- "be firm, solid, steadfast."

Tough nut. Hard row. Slippery slopes,
deep dark holes, boggy winter swamps…

As the world turns, the young and restless age.

Something wicked, this Way comes
When sadness surrounds the Doldrums

Melancholy’s bit is Bitter, Sweet
Looking for mom’s face on the street

Praying as a child to find her and care
Streets of LA, sea of empty faces , cold stare

It’s strange, What we hold onto, cherish
Reminisce, of a loved one who perished

Unfinished business, Hardens the heart
Moments before, we were pulled apart

We find Silent comforts to cradle our mind
Where’d we come from what did we find?

Dealing with death’s passages of times
Needing help with our imaginary crimes

The first person I ever knew who died
She was 46 years young, my soul cried

My beloved mother Throat Cancer
Disenchanted asked God for the answer

Each second Every breath More Shallow
Then the one before, her face Hollow

Questioning The last time for this or that
Lapse memory, The Last time I fed her cat

Yet I never really paid attention
The uneasy emotions we never mention

Now, I pay attention to the smallest details
beauty in rain in hail that clean wet smell

The last thing  I’ll ever mention
Having your full undivided attention

Mom needed all her children near
Leaving earth the biggest unknown fear

Feckless children weren’t around
Couldn’t be bothered wouldn’t be found

What to expect on the other side
Her guardian angel her ethereal Guide

Three days before mom died (her and I)
We were sitting on corner curb outside

Her words were soft, gentle and kind
I don’t worry about you in my mind

You’re like a cat You’ll have many lives
You’ll land on your feet not on the street

Her voice grew intense serious and brave
Listen to me Don’t go to my grave

You need to realize I won’t be there
Find comfort with others Grieve elsewhere

She knew in the crevices of her head
Funerals are for the living not the dead

Pretentious, pompous circumstance
Don’t cry a pity party, Sing and Dance

A gentle smile graced her face
Her wisdom a tear stain trace

Find something Spectacularly brilliant
That will remind you of me resilient

A remembrance you’ll see
put it in your house, There I’ll Be

I found a clear quartz crystal cat with claws
Amethyst heart Dangled between its paws

Daily Family walks Nonchalantly By
A dust collector they see with a naked eye

I see life’s memories in vivid detail
Mother’s Grim Reaper rang her bell


Inspired songs;
1) fire and rain by James Taylor
2) He stopped loving her today,
sang by George Jones
Written by Braddock and Puttman
3) go rest on the Mountain by Vince Gill
4) tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton
5) Live like you were dying
by Tim McGraw
Songs of morning and say goodbye. These are sacred so you don’t need to be religious to have a song universally touch your heart and touch your soul. Each one of these songs has a backstory of death and dealing with that pain. If you listen to the backstory on each of those songs, you’ll hear this song differently. This is why, when I read poetry, I always want to hear the backstory I get a wealth of information, and a deeper understanding of the poem and poet.

Sorry for the lengthy footnote, but I guarantee it’s worth the read

My mother had terminal cancer she did not want the children to see her dwindle away. She left us five children with my father. I was so young I thought she died any time I would mention her I would get a kick in the shin or a elbow in my stomach, learn later, my older siblings in life are now the truth. My younger brother and I did not until I was 10 years old. She tried to see his children. Mother said no I asked my sister who is that person and a small boy she said mom. I prayed every day to God. When I’m a grown-up, let me find her and let her know I care and she made a good person . Grandma (her mother) wanted me to take up with a private investigators left off after seven years of searching for her. (grandma was dying )They had some leads I was 20 years old. I found my mother when I was 21. I had been to every Alley in Skid Row and places young women should not go alone. I had a friend at know downtown LA the roughnecks. The last place of all the places we had been for months with a thrift store women shelter For personal necessities. I showed the photo went through this story to my surprise. The lady clerk pointed to the back of the room.
I took my mother home. I thought she’d be living with me now not on the street but on the third day, she said, I have to go home or they will give my room away she actually was living in a Victorian hospice with Catholic nuns. The headmistress came and asked me if I knew what was going on. Of course I did not because mom didn’t tell me. She told my mom was dying . she only had three months  to live. I prayed just let her be alive. I didn’t pray for more. God gave her to me, and then he took her away. I was angry for a long time. And then I realized God gave me three month to love and be a peace complete unfinished business. It Took me a long time to find my way back to Jesus . so when you see a homeless person , that’s a mother or father, uncle a grandma or grandpa those are people. Some of my family could not make peace with things until they knew she was dying. It was sickening toward my mom didn’t care about going to rodeo drive. They wanted to put a huge angel statue over her grave $25,000 a time ago I said no give the money to the nuns.

The following poem crafted
not quite thirty months ago,
when severe bad hair day
found yours truly self sequestered
toying with notion
to coif, primp, and tease, his limp locks,
(whose hirsute trademark noncompliant)
donned, heaped, lacquered,
and puffed up swiftly tailored,
and the harried style
analogous to infamous forty fifth president.

I stand, (albeit figuratively) athwart
current mainstream popular opinions concluded
(i.e. swirling) within
metaphorical eddies storied Senate high court
case in point constituting acquittal regarding

good and plenti jinxed
high crimes and misdemeanors
purportedly linkedin quid pro quo
then president Donald John Trump,
whereby Republican partisan tipping point

ultimately decreed triumph
able, eager, ready, and willing to escort
kickstarting naysayers, rebel rousers,
and woebegone yawping zealots
(think Democrats) courtesy,

a fictional humanoid robot christened Gort
first debut appearance in 1951
20th Century Fox American science
fiction film The Day the Earth Stood Still.

Smug mugshot depicts
victorious commander in chief with jutting jaw
can now figuratively wring his hands
(more resembling puffed wheat bear paw)

whereat he reveals sharp glistening
barbed freighted, galvanized pointed claw
daring any elected official to follow scofflaw
(think Nancy Pelosi, who got hustled off -

her role as speaker of the House
security details immediately did withdraw
faster than greased lightning,
and/or Quick Draw Mcgraw
after she ripped Trump’s

State of the Union speech),
she definitely decreed guilty of fas paux
undoubtedly wincing how she got raw
end concerning high stakes Art of the Deal.

Drama under domed capital suddenly
(hello kitty) meow my
tectonically shifted analogous
to hydrogen bomb that fell out of sky
starring loose cannon shot
supremely above United States government law,

oh my dog I wanna die
versus enduring four more years,
one garden variety generic guy
who doth agonizingly decry
what will become of truth tellers forced to lie

thru their teeth...
er (yours truly) dentures, whereby
that will pose no deterrent for bluetooth to spy
every painstaking action cumulative data
nowhere off limits, yupper even

becoming American as apple pie
plus embedded into skein of ordinary house fly,
thus essentially fomenting grassroots
freedom fighting militia to stave off doom...
analogous as one after another protesters
dangle over the River Kwai.