Moonlight, above

Moonlight, the love

Swelling heart, I feel

Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…

Promises of life you knew you’d never keep, re-a-liz-ing light, drowns in the deep,

Finding love you lost, it hurts, you weep,

And the secrets you thought she’d like to steal,

Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…

Walked hand-in-hand our hearts fit like a glove, holding out for the day I’d feel this love,

Hardship and pain chip away at the steel, lotus layers of life you find unpeel,

No matter what you’ll stay finds strange appeal,

Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…
Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…
Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…

Moonlight, descends

Our life, upends

My heart, a stone

Moonlight tonight my god I feel alone.

Moonlight…tonight
Moonlight…tonight

And all the wounds of life that she can heal,

Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…
Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…
*Moonlight tonight to see the sights revealed…

Remain in your cocoon,
Or you'll be bound and found,
With your mouth chewing the ground,
Allow yourself to be spoon-fed,
All the while keeping thoughts,
To yourself, neglect your health,
But what about wealth?
Never settle without the better,
Regret each intersection,
With the same interceptor,  
Search for the feeling,
The one that keeps you alive,
Or you'll be sent reeling,
And fighting for your life,
You'll lose your two children,
And your once devoted wife,
Who got fed up with the fools games,
And all the gorgeously smooth lies,
That manifested into ugly filthy ties,
That held the darkest parts in tow,
Making a saints row to destroy,
The evil, but he cannot be defeated,
Nor can he be thwarted, because
He has exposed all his forces,
And exalted all his horses,
As he listens to the theme,
every twang when the chorus hits,
Signals the next step in his chores,
The remaining cords,
Of the movements of music,
That grows with the rose,
Which bloomed from concrete,
But has now been bull-dozed,
This is the monster that haunts you,
The one that breathes in your ear,
And makes you say "I've Won,"
When truly your work isn't done,
Because you're still alive,
With no where to run and survive,
The motions set into play,
Once you began that chess game,
Which rose from a manuscript,
That you truly thought would fit,
Each and every word,
And while most of it occurred,
You had not accounted for fate,
And the people at the gate,
And the demons that await,
The food that is you,
Your body isn't enough,
Your mind and soul they consume,
With a moaning and gnashing,
And a clashing of silver spoons,
As the lustful creature swoons,
At the very thought of you,
And the mention of your entrance,
Makes her beckon for the reckoning,
That will yank you in a second,
Breaking good wasn't an option,
No, not any longer, why bother?
No one respects the facade,
That you engaged in in order to absolve,
Thyself of the dreams that had been killed,
With blood that was spilled ,
Thus flowing slowly into murky cracks,
Holding onto attacks, cooly
Calculated foolery, will not fool thee,
Into thinking any less of the dream,
The one that made you deadly,
One of the Seven Sins,
Personified in the actions,
And the reactions that happened,
With endless repercussions,
That something that one thing,
The suffering the offspring,
Of a deferred intention neglected,
Often thought of as disrespected,
Became respected, became feared
As the strands of hair greyed,
And the length of the beard,
Grew like bountiful hay,
Until crimson showers filled the bay,
Rivers of tears lead the way,
Destruction lies in your wake,
Oh poor devil, no one will cry for you,
Not a single tear will lend you grace,
Everyone you love faces your friend,
The one that determines all fate,
At the end, he sends, and upends,
And bends, and extends, a hand,
With a scythe to hold over you,
Oh poor devil, poor you,
A butterfly did not bear fruit,
But a moth birthed from the cocoon,
And into the flame it went,
Consumed.

This letter was not meant for you
it was meant for me with you
to that crystalline time when we were two
before the shattering was through.

The mornings in 
when we lay oblivious to the shuffle and the city din
when the weight of the world was still 
not enough to budge us a single inch 
from between the linens.

So I recollect
all the fragments I thought I left
I'm not one to dwell but what else
is left for the lonely boy at the bottom of a well?

But now there are three
There's you and there's me
and there's who we could've been
And I've not spoken to him yet
as I'm not sure this specter is real
Or maybe I'm afraid to ask if he once half-lived,
was he thrown from the wheel
and tossed down the well here with you and them?

But I've fooled myself again
What I saw as a window
was only a mirror that needed mending
And what I heard as your voice
was always the wind
hurling back at me my own laments.

Beauty brutally murdered my captain
One touch, and the crew deserted
a hasty mutiny to an unknown island
Where I before with calm weathered
the waves, now the torrent upends
the bow, wrecked upon rocks
that could've been havens.

So I'm thrown from the sea to the sands
Left alive by a wiser hand than
I, doomed to make beach castles, just a man
mending the grains, seeing the slate
wiped clean again and again
forever banned from the mountain
and the densely wooded lands.

One day I'll abandon my post
cut short my careful tending
and set off from the coast
Leave behind the crooked lines
and SOS signs, the feeble moats
Face the interior, each step deep down
and further down into the jungle dark
and every fear the most
Hope beyond all Hope that all I own is Hope
and one day reach the sun, then I'll know.

And what keeps me shuffling through the dark?
The thought of you shuffling too
alone and apart
Not the thought that our end
will be as our start
but that the art
of the whole **** thing
is all we are.

An announcement, dear spoons, it has come to my attention,
That knives are in fact the superior invention,
They cut and they dice, and they bring us sliced bread,
While for spoons, I'm afraid there's not much to be said,
They're good for the stirring and sipping of soup,
They can help you eat anything; well, as long as its goop,
They can't even manage to show a proper reflection,
Try gazing at one, it upends your direction,
Oh spoons, you buffoons, you round-bellied fools,
Try slicing, not scooping, you inelegant tools,
Knives dress to ****, while you spoons are such slouches,
And knives are quite charming; you lot are all grouches,
It's clear that knives are the superior race,
They'll put you dumb spoons back into your place,
At the bottom of the drawer, way down with the forks,
Alongside the can opener, and a screwer of corks,
You're the **** of the table, I despise your skullduggery,
That's why I declare knives the finest of cutlery.

What was I up to while we were locked-in?
I was busy contemplating sin.
I had months and months of moments to spend,
Ms chaste without, misdeeds within.

Lust, like seasickness - upends reason
and it burns like underbrush fuel.
So dust my DNA, and ID my ***** dreamin'
am I guilty of breaking some rule?

Thy birth on January 13th – cervical contractions would not abate
the pesky master (papa), strove to synchronize his seminal bait
thence, forty-two weeks after ma parents did pro create
Imminent lviii plus years ago to date
this present baby boomer doth indubitably and inherently equate
Nineteen hundred and fifty nine
   bequeathed birthed mine kempf ill fate
neurological manifestation sans obsessive compulsive did grate
behavioral motif and analogous to frontispiece per the story I hate
of my life and hard times, when all of a sudden out the blue irate

the onset of emotional nadir,
   where ballistic ordnance bombed away
fancy free, innocent, naïve boyhood
   decrying, detonating, and describing me own Pigs Bay
Allied, linkedin, and synced Luftwaffe
   and Panzer division invasion that clay
like materiel within southern cerebral hemi
   sphere inroads usurped no delay
riding roughshod via synapse straits sporting
   scoring sorties using every
axe n newer on dread did Swiss hide dill naught
   to decimate with Sherman determination tuff flay
leaving not one iota (oft times) referenced as gray
matter unaffected quite aware
   of rebellious confederated voices yelling “HOORAY”

Sabotaging orbitofrontal communication incorporating connection between anterior cingulate gyrus cortex heightening activity bridging (via atom sized pontoon bridges) greater activity upon basal ganglia, which synoptic description does nothing to alter the predisposition to ingress of uncontrollable imbecilic, inexplicable, and illogical fixation particularly during onset of puberty, when an emotional kamikaze nose dive at the nadir of near lifelessness, the shadow of me former self nowhere tubby found on account of deadly symbiotic relationship asper the invisible nemesis – i.e. electrical impulses faux nattering nabobs of mien nativity whereat unseen thriving sensational riffraff quenched powerhouse ousting nestled milkmaids, or rather pressing said resources sans vitality into dangerous, frivolous, and horrendous self destructive antics, where ballistic charges drugged eminent domain former nerve cell size occupants, thoroughly re-engineering sense and sensibility with pride fullness and prejudice on par with dousing one with an ****** that completely upends functioning healthily, judging lovingly, and managing productively versus expending precious time and energy self absorbed into manic, neurotic, and/or psychotic actions, manners, thoughts, et cetera, which irrationality got embedded within the neurological interstices, which even as of this moment hound me akin to wild beasts circling ever closer to launch mortal kombat against their very housing.

The very first line of every good rhyme
Is such a fine chance to step out and sing
While the following lines eke out on the page
It sits right there at the front of the stage

In from the eather it comes out to play
Holding its own on this hallowed ground
The words swirl beneath it and tumble on down
They’re caught in a the grip of its blazing reflection

Line after line, the story grows
In the split of and instant it falls into place
Caught in the measure of a casual endeavor
The words seek a song that can last forever

Flowing on down to the very last line
There might be an answer if you look at it right
We’re lost in the thick of the poets firm grip while
The magic upends us and slips off the page

The caterpillar walks alongside groovy stems; so what do you mean?
    the banjo plays on to rusty hymns; what is that supposed to mean?  the plainsong of those birds of a feather upends: excuse me, come again please?
   but nobody, no one;  ever… told you you had
to comprehend. Oh fam, you’re soo mean!
So you can take your suit just in case,
and I can take in the
rain and coat  my little dream. What, why? You don’t mind.  and I don’t mind metaphors
to explain lyrics across…  the bard. You’re speaking in riddles, Man! So what is Poetry
to me, if I can’t take
it’s license and play with my words, words you would discard, I call  deuces wild, yeah my friend. Nah, it’s not like that at all child. Yes it is. No it’s not. Yes it is. No it’s not! And that’s the way I feel y’all. I just think a thought and jot.

Jot it all down. Jot it all down. Jot alllllll DoWn… when I think a thought.

It all depends on who
upends the apple cart.

Start as you mean to go on
and if it's wrong
start again,
no pain and all that clap trap
get the gist?
or be like me and just get ******
waste it away
'for a year and a day'
and sing to the moon.

but off your face
never
got me out of that place
it
was grit and determination.

dependency
is two floors down
from
acceptable society
and the elevator is
*******,

there are plenty more floors
with
flowers for the bankers
and clients for the ******
and Santa is up on floor ten.

This is reliable gen'
brought to you by the men
who also brought
the **** that you bought
on the news

you can't refuse to log in
to the spin
you're recorded and
being relayed,
being played like some marlin
stuck on a hook
and
it all depends upon
which end you're at.

It’s five o’clock; the coffeepot
rattles, sputters, gurgles as I
assemble lunch and feed the cat;
another morning, another dark
beginning to an endless stretch
of days flowing to some unknown
rendezvous where it all ends, what-
ever it is, wherever what is where
it is when it ends—the normal beat
upends such morning meditations.

It’s so hot when I walk outside
sweat begins to bead; I wonder
when we’ll reach the September
divide when the first front moves
down from the north, sending leaves
scurrying forth, plopping outsized
raindrops on the dusty earth. The
rain falls south along the coast, or
follows the freeway, leaving our
trees to brown, and gasp, and die.

Drought clutches the ground like
an ardent lover not to be denied,
sprinklers but a feeble effort to
fight off its insatiable lust to ****
the very marrow from the land,
scattering dead pines and blanched
oaks in ones and twos and threes
across lots and yards whose green
grass and manicured gardens belie
the dying waste that’s setting in.

The morning light oozes in from
the East, a sickly yellow glow on
the jagged tree line invading the
darkness behind a band of blue;
as I ease out onto the two-lane
toward the freeway where already
cars are stacking up in their rush
south toward the city’s towers,
the radio lists the casualties of
the latest shooting madness and

I begin to wonder about those in
power, and how they sleep with
so much carnage, before I remember
power and psychopathy are close
allied, and those who serve serve
only to survive. I then negotiate
the on-ramp to another day where
minutes, like cars, flash relentlessly
by in multi-colored hues, and death
rides shotgun in ones and twos.

Anger is at the root
of all that upends them
It is the very marrow
of their frustrated despair
Armed against a world
that cannot befriend them
Only because
it doesn't know that they're there

…clinks in glasses
chilling the lips
unless a sudden contact
is avoided.

…is frigidity –
a grain of water
gleaned by the sun
is preferable.

…lingers slowly
dissipating.
Give me streams
as quick as bullets.

…chills a
red Dubonnet
till the wine
upends the sun’s intensity.

…sways
every eye
towards the skater’s
own uncalculated mastery.

…partners
the gritty frost
that folds the pebbles
in a skein of light.

Ice is the groin’s negation.
Ice is the temperance of nations.

…clinks in glasses
chilling the lips
unless a sudden contact
is avoided.

…is frigidity –
a grain of water
gleaned by the sun
is preferable.

…lingers slowly
dissipating.
Give me streams
as quick as bullets.

…chills a
red Dubonnet
till the wine
upends the sun’s intensity.

…sways
every eye
towards the skater’s
own uncalculated mastery.

…partners
the gritty frost
that folds the pebbles
in a skein of light.

Ice is the groin’s negation.
Ice is the temperance of nations.

Published in OUTPOSTS PUBLICATIONS 1974 (NO LEEWAY)

Onset of first 2023 heatwave
found yours truly lulled to sleep
courtesy rattle and hum
(U2 can dreamily tread
where the streets have no name)
of oscillating fan.

Nestled under blankets,
the gentle whirring sound
soothes the savage beast
within mine body electric
of one generic, opportunistic,
and wholistic garden variety man.

Within blink of closed eye
yours truly transported
into the realm of deep sleep
benumbed to reality as unconscious guy
experiencing dynamic vivid dreams
courtesy Fluoxetine Hcl
(C17H18F3NO·HCl)
known as Selective
Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor (SSRI),
especially prescribed to treat
depression, panic disorder,
and obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Holmes tower fan whooshing air
analogous to sonogram (ultrasound)
infiltrates fumfering, slumbering
snoring schnorrer (me)
best not to awaken papa bear,
cuz he will roar loud and clear
disrupted sleep upends ability to function
no joking psyche dybbuk riddled

with profound anxiety and despair
subsequent havoc wrought
on par whereby mailer daemons ensnare
co opting, conquering,
and compromising blissful state
deadened head reveling
within private webbed world

regarding unscripted drama deep inside
temporal lobe of brain,
the hippocampus might conjure
time traveling circa Renaissance faire
wordsmith metaphorically possessed
remonstrated by fire breathing
amazing puffing magic dragon
lived by the sea
and frolicked in the autumn mist
in a land called Honah Lee
evidenced fiery breathing
affect nostrils to snort and flare

awoke from necessary dreams,
I would angrily glare
frightfully enough to induce goosebumps,
and raise every small hair
along spine uncontrollable fury
communicating shattered functionality
essentially rude awakening would impair
ability to experience joie de vivre.

Debilitating panic attack invariably triggered
similar to Tonga underwater volcano
eruption January 15th, 2022
constituting physiological displeasures
chiefly vertigo, racing heart, nausea,
excessive perspiration, adrenaline
coursing thru body,
whereby Prozac (brand name regarding

aforementioned synthesized chemical)
ameliorated unbearable,
unmanageable, untenable...
earth-shaking, devastating,
and crushing manifestations
disabling, exhausting, hijacking,
jackknifing, sabotaging, and wrecking
life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.

Kickstarting psychological disequilibrium
linkedin with savoring
at least bajillion winks
else sixty plus shades of gray matter methinks
attempting to piece together logically
reasonable poetic rhyme
despite missing links
knotted courtesy cerebral gordian knotted kinks
yours truly feels discombobulated
teetering and tottering atop brinks
of figurative steep precipice.

is a desert
an arid wasteland
of tumbleweeds
rolling in the ***** breeze

My loneliness
is an abyss
a bottomless chasm
of pain and sarcasm

My loneliness
is a venomous snake
that lays in the grass
and waits

My loneliness
is hell
a fiery pit
of beggars and spit

My loneliness
is a friend
that smiles at me
and upends

Nestled under blankets,
the gentle whirring sound
soothes the savage beast
within mine body electric
of one generic, opportunistic,
and wholistic garden variety man.

Within blink of closed eye
yours truly transported
into the realm of deep sleep
benumbed to reality as unconscious guy
experiencing dynamic vivid dreams
courtesy Fluoxetine Hcl
(C17H18F3NO·HCl)
known as Selective
Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor (SSRI),
especially prescribed to treat
depression, panic disorder,
and obsessive-compulsive disorder.

Holmes tower fan whooshing air
analogous to sonogram (ultrasound)
infiltrates slumbering snorer (me)
best not to awaken papa bear,
cuz he will roar loud and clear
disrupted sleep upends ability to function
no joking psyche riddled

with profound anxiety and despair
subsequent havoc wrought
on par whereby mailer daemons ensnare
co opting, conquering,
and compromising blissful state
deadened head reveling
within private webbed world

regarding unscripted drama deep inside
temporal lobe of brain,
the hippocampus might conjure
time traveling circa Renaissance faire
wordsmith metaphorically possessed
remonstrated by fire breathing dragon
evidenced fiery breathing
affect nostrils to snort and flare

awoke from necessary dreams,
I would angrily glare
frightfully enough to induce goosebumps,
and raise every small hair
along spine uncontrollable fury
communicating shattered functionality
essentially rude awakening would impair
ability to experience joie de vivre.

Debilitating panic attack invariably triggered
similar to Tonga underwater volcano
eruption January 15th, 2022
constituting physiological displeasures
chiefly vertigo, racing heart, nausea,
excessive perspiration, adrenaline
coursing thru body,
whereby Prozac (brand name regarding

aforementioned synthesized chemical)
ameliorated unbearable,
unmanageable, untenable...
earth-shaking, devastating,
and crushing manifestations
disabling, exhausting, hijacking,
jackknifing, sabotaging, and wrecking
life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness.

Kickstarting psychological equilibrium
linkedin with savoring at least bajillion winks
else sixty plus shades of gray matter methinks
knotted courtesy cerebral gordian knotted kinks
yours truly feels discombobulated
teetering and tottering atop brinks
of figurative precipice.

To remember dailiness
And walk the little way
Phone calls to my sons
Gratefully xie xie

In my solitude
Feeling for my friends
The wheel is still in spin
Uppsala then upends

        Postcards. Pretends.

Discombobulation thunderously
torments, triumphs, tumults
courtesy deafening,
earsplitting, fracturing...
(think emotional bomb cyclone),
whereby unbearable mental anguish
rents psyche asunder

into bajillion pieces
singular recourse necessitates
invoking cerebral powers
to engender feeling
comfortably numb skull,
hence tried and true value accorded

transcendental meditation practice
offering absolutely zero choice
incumbent upon yours truly
to remedy cerebral chaos,
an unpleasant quotidian experience,
whenever yours truly

exits deep sleep
more potent and holistic solution
versus following pharmacological medications:
GLYCOPYRROLATE, TAB 2MG
CLOMIPRAMINE CAP 50MG
RISPERIDONE TAB 1MG
FLUOXETINE CAP 20MG
PRAZOSIN HCL CAP1MG
BUSPIRONE TAB 15MG
PRAMIPEXOLE TAB 1MG
CLONAZEPAM TAB 0.5MG
AMITIZA 24 MCG
(prescription laxative as needed)

the former closed eye process
to instill peace of mind,
plus elevating cosmic consciousness
allowing, enabling and providing

pronouncedly heightened awareness
acutely poignant insight
permeating throughout this body electric
calming, fanning, jumpstarting
vitally important discipline
in order for lifetime anxiety riddled

disabling affliction upends
potential to satiate existence
(oft times state of severe panic -
triggering chronic sweaty palms
extremely bothersome
physiological manifestation

induces suicidal ideation
i.e. opened arms death welcomed),
which onset regarding
ordinary agitated state
inchoate congenital malady
probably coalesced in utero

extremely intolerable,
especially incorporating socialization,
cuz no contra dance partner
(cue Irish jig and reel
musicians playing lively tunes)
favors grasping hand
analogous to wet dishrag.