upon the waters
i threw my bread
only to watch
the fish and ducks
gobble it up.....

i gave my pearls to the swine
and they pawned for quick cash

i set my words on  a butterflys wing
only to see it fly into the windscreen
of a fast moving truck....

so today..i find a room empty
and bare....walk into the middle
and sit quietly there
waiting for the world to spin
and afford me the smallest
of wins...

coffee stain memories (an aging love)

our dozen or so mugs,
all white, her color of choice,
accumulating stains of black-brown coffee
that the dishwasher poetically concedes,
a decade plus of drinking, now, oh-now,
****** and can’t be removed

the lips of some are chipped,
the lips of some are chapped,
but they remain employed
for first coffee is a demonstrable
affectation of affection that losing
would be costly

but one of us soto voce, quietly whispers
the radical ionized idea,
shouldn’t we replace,
this should-not is an update, a cognition of
a bridge too far,
both agreeing, both conceding the symbolism,
the heart acknowledges a momentary thrombosis,
for the losing turnover is a winless loss
messaging in and about,
an aging staining love losing

~
A no ki tov tuesday poem

So I see when
And how the wind bends
At last I'm alone
The stars have shown
To be as vulnerable as I
At last are we
Breathing toward the sea

We are endless lies
Tied to the tied
Memories of friends
To hard to tell when
Drifting through the leaves
My fingers like glass
Gasoline is leaking
Through her hair
She is peaking

I have so much love here
Yet I can't help but hesitate
See the star on the horizon
Death has no certain date

To the waters of open shores
To the souls always wanting more
The umbrella opens for the falling rain
Life is to hard to live
When all seems to show the same

Cannot you tell me apart from myself
A shattered mirror atop of the sun
We are the lords of passed time and men
The letters are writ', so send man, send!

And at last I press my hands upon the table
Awakening the soul beyond the ego
Forging what sword I can within myself
Knowing that life outside myself will always be left

We men
We women
We humans upon the page

Never give up hope
Never forget

We were born to be

However unfinished and untuned
The strings show to be
Do not believe what you see
And no' don't you dare cry
What you think you can't be
Is the difference between you and I

The top hat is spinning upon my head
And these pearl clouds are shining
All I want is your sweet self inside my bed
With my old arms around you tight

Now I'm not too old
And I'm not too young
But I know that all my heart can give
Will never be enough

Sometimes I
Don't know which is which
I see a face
That doesn't match it

I see a sun that is glowing
But it might as well be snowing
I never said
I was confused
But maybe, I'm caught
In the middle
Of a lie of being used

A slave once asked in thought,
"What's it feel to be free?"
And a free man said to him
"Living without chains,
But the chains then come -
Without notice or warning -
Deep within thee."
He nodded,
The cool of the metal
Comforting again comforting him.

Each innocence lost
Is like each tomorrow forgot
The river's pass through us
The wind blows past
And what we wish will last
Will soon be let go and cast

Our mother's and our father's
Are as lost as you are I
Peak a smile, show your teeth
Your skin cannot hide
The light that shows underneath

Wilting winter with no name
Who has showed its wrath to men all the same
Take no pity on me, I deserve no cane
For I once was gripped with pity and quill
But the pill made me lucid
Body soon to fluid
Forcing me to flight without wings or arrow
Lost in a winless war
Like a loveless Cupid

I'm walking toward a rusted gate
No dreams of recollection in my mind
What I had left of love
Is now only filled with empty time

The weeds are all brown
Each barber shop sign seems to cry
Our friendship is dying, don't you see?
I'm here to see you and say goodbye

There on the blood mountains
Those grey rabbits digging away
What else is there to say?
I got no more feeling in me that I can pay

It all turned into one rotten show
When light was there, the dark is what you obeyed
Everything is rotten, all's o.k.
You got your choice,
And I got mine

Each time piece we hold
Twists like a poetic rhyme
But we aren't living
We aren't seeing
The silence that roars like thunder

Yet Im walking
And I breathe next to you
Laying still right near you
And I laugh, and I sigh
Struggling to get untied

And the mystery of passing
Hits me as transient yet everlasting
Into the eyes and to the sky
Two hearts soon to forget the prize

Too young to understand
Scared into a fool proof plan
Outgrow the precious hours
Let go of future powers

Here are the whistling pines
Hear how they whine
There are the reflecting rivers
See how they shiver

Brown shotgun blast with the old disgruntled uncle
His hair wet from the unforgiving rain
God laughed as Jesus wept into a microphone
And what was lost then can never be found

Make me love you, make me see you the way you want
I will not beat you and I swear I will not wave my hands in taunt
No money in my pocket, no more change in the shed
All you wanted from me was food and a clean looking bed

Let me tell you a secret, let me tell you a little riddle
Each man in this life is born to die and born to be little
Put the books in their baskets, put the books upon their shelves
Haven't eaten food in months, give me a second to tie my belt

Now when the thunder rolls in don't you squint your eyes
The blues you were born with is God's only prize
Down the line the reaper waits upon the train line
The children laughing struggling to be kind

Ants within the hole of revenge against the enemy
Broken pedestals showing unholy God's defaced
No one deserving the hate they think they need
What's put in song presents life of an angular creed

Places to go, things to do,
        scurrying through a winless race,
        The alarm clock, the traffic: my stimulus.
        I know the drill; pay the attendant, park the car.
        I wait at the curb to cross the street,
        not using the crosswalk is my defiance to routine.

        I wait for the red light and turn to find I don't wait alone.
        Another subject seeming to salivate for the promise of a paycheck,
        yet he seems pre-occupied, impatient, rather than lulled by the day-in, day-out.
        "Late for something?", I ask, knowing I'll get no reply.
        Craning his neck past me, he looks to the left, eyes sharp and intense.
        Then looks right, checking for traffic, as if it's something he's been trained to do.

        First foot raises making him look like a pointer,
        Steps into the street- no wait, one more car- then across he goes.
        He trots to the median; I follow, sure he'll not pause there-
        but no, he waits, again checking left and right for obstruction.
        Satisfied with the lack of cars, he crosses the remaining distance to the opposite curb.
        I bask in my fascination, my day disrupted in a most unique way.

        For a stray dog living on the street, there is more purpose in his step than my own.

Bring Out Your Dead

bring out your dead, that's what the collector said,
in a barrel or a box, with or without a pair of socks,
no one shall cry, not interested in where or why

the teacher should never stop learning,
young hearts should never stop yearning

Roll up the streets, can't take those rhythmic beats,
Shut the city down, the senator is a part time clown,
fight the winless fight, keeping low below the light

reaching out to the weary and fallen,
hoping you hear them all callin'

I can't remember when I knew just what was going on
seems I have lost my connection
praying that soon the guilty well be gone
it's time to change, my direction

pull your bootstraps up, on the corner with a paper cup,
dig deeper down, hold your chin up, refuse to frown,
show them all your grit, refusing to ever quit

the schemers will never stop scheming
the dreamers should never stop dreaming

Gomer LePoet

I’m tired of fighting a
Winless battle.
I wish I could reverse
Time and stop me from being born.
But all I have are
These pills that can give me
The permanent sleep I desire.
But then I think of you
And flush them out.

I can fly I can scream
I can warm water fight
I am bird liver lean
Never even, & always obscene
Dripping wax ever so mean
I am light.
I am fright
semi sweet slurred.
I am wonder and fright.
Two feet on the gas,
One half on the brake.
Soft gauges blurred
Under half moons of night
I am rigid I am sure
I am gut stabbed & sore.
Forever this king has
Demanded more.
I am reckless in night.
I am fearful in tattered
Living room jeans.
I am flattened and worn
& so belly tight.
I am sweet pearl milk
Gouged under knife
crossed wires inside
I am wanting.
I am taunting.
Winless & choked in red mountain scorn.
I am whipped
I am soft egg surprise
Torn up at dawn
Bowled & cracked & sizzled & flipped
Over just right.
I am runny. I am drizzle.
Cut red with a knife.
Splattered on toast
& otherwise ripped.
I am rimmed I am trimmed
I am bottle sea round.
Smashed against stone
Big toes & footprints ripping her ground.
I am red, I am green
Violence of shapes show who I've been.
I am shaken. I am stirred,
Soft nightmare inferred.
I am ruby not red
But definitely spiked.
There are red & there's blue,
sometimes there's white
None of them fit like pure black & white
I am fruited and dressed
Buttoned and snapped
In white carpet best.
I am lonely. I am longing.
Wearing the whitest red vest.
I am saccharine. I am blue.
Papered quiet on coffee stained hues
Clumsily flopped in quiet bed sheets
Pierced photo hums
Memories & pump chest
Devil disguises
I've already been there.
Quakes & rumbles & sorority crows.
Novels & wakes & nobody knows.
I am fine. I like wine,
& I'm way out of site
I giggle I jiggle
& i love your wiggle
Squared in my turnips tonight.
I am dubious in metal arm vests
I am wrinkled. My fries are so crinkled
They burn out my buds
My soda soft duds.
My cotton sewed beds
& bath water suds.
I am light.
Pages blue ignoring red evening lights
I don't know the pink ignoring
This flight.
Broken light screens
Or seismic wing sites.
What caused this dismay
Or lamp reading rites.
I am made of spider leg bites
And wilt water beams.

I am cold water me, and you know what that means.

An elite caliber collective in its prime, strength in numbers used to be my weakness, as I was Mr. Do-it-all with a to-do list that left me clueless, even I do's were proven to be useless; left alone to contemplate it, I was ran off the playing field with a game plan predictable. Predicted to fail, my addiction left me winless, raindrops on my window, window pain became foggy, when I evaporate it with such brute force, I was weaker from such blunt force burned to ash. Rollover, toss and turn, racing thoughts kept in an urn, to open Pandora's box means to freefall but come out stronger, what can't **** me makes me stronger as I've risen above apathy, happily thankful for the nosedive or better yet skydive I lived to tell about. Accompanied by comrades that helped me get up and walk again, soon y'all will see me fly again once- I have fully recovered, kiss the sky and pursue your dreams, we all wake up at some point, once my eyes are fully opened, mine too will manifest in reality.