Relax, eat your pudding, the
Sweetness taking you back
To the playgrounds of long forgotten days
Then you'll sing like meant to
Like a Robin on your shoulder
Top of the slide, calling the sunrise
Not gonna die
Just smiles
And

It
Goes

I always told the ******,  he'd live to 100. I'd be gone before him.
He'd poo poo me. I'm getting old.
I'd say, I am too.
He knew it was coming. Last year he's been saying he's tired.  Same things Marge said . He had a long life.
Not near a Saint  but his good was street good. He grew up working the streets, playing the game. He knew right from wrong. Just, his wrong was defined differently.
I saw him cry once.
When his daughter died.
I admired that old ****. He was my dad for twenty years of my sixtyfive.
I tried to live up to that. He helped change me.
I should have kept more in touch.
Shoulda coulda.  I felt I owed him.
I did. I felt I was imposing on him. Tried to be independent.  
Hope he knew that. I didn't want to impose on him.
Hell. Let me shut up.
I'm only regretting. Nothing I can do now

Awkward
    It is
To be me,
     To be human
Connected in every way
      Yet lonely as hell
Like a ****
        In a garden
Of roses
Or a field of daffodils
Only the one
I feel
Feels this way
So bogus
       Cause
Supposedly
       We're all the same

Let me peep in
Stick my nose up
Your crack
See whether it's her his or him
Cause I'm a Patriot
Gotta protect whataboutism and
Tax cuts, glory to he who made this country free,
Worried more about business
what Goes on behind doors
Closed than how children eat or
are clothed

more
Interested in Disney than government
And my constituents becoming commies giving one cent to the poor
When all the big corps need tax breaks, you know as is common sense

Let's impeach someone with no proof hoping it increases the odds or better yet ignore the sins of big oranges
2 billion son-in-law got from the Saudis

Why try to improve lives, not about it, when so much grift and enticement we can foster by kissing the rich ***.
It's easier, Cause we aren't the party of religion....we subvert it.  Use it for profit.

Like the old white confederate. We lose but don't die. Gonna keep on keeping on oppressing until you wake up

If nothing matters
     Unless, it does
Trying at all
     Survival, pointless
Being right
     Unless you were wrong
Depression
      When you never cried.

Maybe, it's all a game
      When you never played
Or not a game
       Ever, at all
It's beyond all comprehension
       Because it's simple as hell
But you were  
        Never the believer.

You're just a contrarion
         A rebel
Never had one  
          Cell in your brain
Or any empathy
           You just acted along
Against everything

So really what's right?
            Nothing, at all...not a thing

whom makes up a lie when truth is easier to deny

Told you what you hated
Agenda was beyond him
His tongue unbridled
Spoke naked truth only

And so, he was silenced
And you lived on
Seemingly happy
And so on

He was the bad man
The enemy, the awful
He venerated what he saw
As true the reality

Which to most, is not something
We're willing to face.
Or even acknowledge
Until one day

Far in the future, perhaps
Maybe tomorrow
No telling
But the truth will
Tell

We, the superior genus,
Should take lessons from our
Brothers the animals,
From our soulmates,
The flowers, our kin the trees, our father, the sea.
When ideolizing anything,
It should be nature.
Her wealth given to all, without
Judgement, her wrath, same
To wealthy and poor.
As for a killing urge, she has none but hunger.
Whereas man, kills for sport.
And as seasons have a reason
To turn cold or warm,
Men often use lust and power
To ignore,
As the trees learned
And the grasses grew
As the sun shone
As the storm brewed
As volcanoes spewed
Nature went on
Blindly dealing
Equality,

You feel it? The
Hum connecting
A rhythm
That thing we call soul
The artifact in us from
Stars.
The dance without music
We seek knowing a piece of it
When seeing or hearing it at a concert,
In another's body, a babies glow, the morning sun on a flowered valley
Truth that there is more, an epiphany
Of a thought, our reason.
Matter, it does, we do, nature does, each star glows every moon every living being connected in serial in depth in reality. Each being.
The slightest speck of dust.
Given enough time, we see

Imagine, if one could
A broken limb in the woods
Or a moist drip suspended
Timeless from an eave, a river
Out of its race, overflowing the bank
On a windless night some April eve
The moonless sky lit only by sparks,
Or a lovers sigh, a beckoning of might. A pack of wolves, a mountains power, the depths of life on the edge of doom,
The borders of a kingdom never crossed, those little things are all of us.
Just our normal daily trespasses when we've charged our life to poetry.
As warriors we go forth armed or not, into a battle never won but fought
Ruthless one would imagine the toll
But never naught for a wandering soul

Amazing, this thing, time, it goes on whether you're here, or not, and to come back and see the irrelevance of all, is somehow calming.
Adaptive, time and life, it lives when we die. To observe from a distance, has, in a word, been relieving.
I carried my importance as a trait.
What a weight it is. Its good to know, no matter my place, I have one.
Very calm

I joined the party late,
years after the favors left
all the cake crumbs even gone,
but celebrate, the same as one,
to have known my angel's living
breath, now gone, like the participants
dancing smiles all the hugs
and kisses, wishes on a candles
flame,
bring nothing back but images.
So alone I sing to you, however
far you have become....
Happy Birthday, my Angel Dear,
many, many more to come

How has the inevitable
Changes in the atmosphere
Affected you, my dear?
Did you watch in frozen fear
As the loud mortars crashed so near
Or think insanity has won the day,  give up the fight and fade away?
Or has the barometer of your opinion
became a beacon for touching time
Like sages of another rhyme when,
Known became a wing of air,
A tree limb on a barren oak,
A slowly cascading mountain peak, the haze of foggy bitter tears?
There once came by the now dry creek
A beauty lass with a smiling cheek
A breath of fresh a curl of new a hope to all who viewed her innocence
rare for years we thought her there.
But that must have been a smile thought just a scent of remembrance there one called her name in somnolence, and it echoes still,
her  name was whispered meaningful,
A heart, a tear,
A sentiment

Will it be
The elder green with less luscious
blossoms
Or shall the younger tender petals
Steal
All the Golden from the mountains
Rushing down the hillsides gushing
Renewal
Or
Is it noted in the dirt and loam
The sacred parts of earthly home
Shared each nutrient and called not a one, ever, their own
Has such been histories norm can written tableus reveal
These truths or are they found
In hearts of steel in minds
That see beyond the limits
Who see
What is truly real

Anyone say they are sorry,
               Anymore.

It seems
All things
Begin and end
As daydream
Forms
A torn
Piece of a
Skirt left
one broken
Shard of
Colored glass
A folder
With only
One match
Left
The torn
And tat-
tered....
scattered
Bout as
Remnant frames
In
Scrapbooks
Loose
Granite forms
In memoriam
Fragile and mortal
When true
Love Is
No more

The love of my life has passed. I am devastated and ripped. My life seems ended.

To my baby, if only I had one more day.

Even just an hour , I could go on.

DiAnne, my soul mate, i need you more than any breath or water.

I shall remember you and keep you close in my heart as I always did.

How vain
     ,thin the
         Paper skin
Coarse, now, built
  Through years of pen and brush
           Dabs and strokes of scent and skins
           Of sights ,  sound
     smell of rosebuds melding.  
          lips wrote thick upon the canvas
turned from micron thin
  into impact on a ground layer upon
layer deep where senses melt all
      Into one  
Bright some bold, a grey that holds
          A mystery of depth,
     Wealth unsold like souls
        remembered loves you'll
            never lose, or
                 grow  old

Is it ok to be crazy sane
Or insanely norm
Or has the path narrowed where
You must step foot for foot in the path?
I mean, I go off at times wild dont
Never hurt nobody I do it alone
I things  question like nobody does
Nobody I know so i close off
And where is that line drawn
I look only line I see is middle of the road
Even that changes from dashes to solid lines from one of them to two in places
And you see I see everyone knows
If you cross them there's hell
To pay
I dont always traverse roads though it was an analogy
I suppose the asphalt and heat got to me
Serious now
Who can help
A pastor a preacher a witch or a belt
I'm open to suggestions ive searched over and over

For want of breathless views,
Landlocked seemingly
Between crests of
Rolling hay green grass and numbing tedious pines
Lost like a wolf who ventured too far
Unto the oceans beach and knew
His quest was hopeless,
How about we venture forth imaginating then how do I guess what wolves do speak
When obvious the feelings of creatures must
Be holier than our lust and treason
But tarry not
In self-denial your eyes when cornered,  
Don't deny,
Are just as tortured vile
As any wolf
Or creature
Threatened

Business on
Forest Street how quaint,
the merchants displaying their wares
Mid 19th century like,
On sidewalk displays of commercial
Renaissance,  essence of Renoit
air
Of the Bard
Touch of town folks fresh from the hills
In wagons long dresses cowboy hats and wood
Silks and satins of bright colors
And patterns
In celebration  of how good
It was
Back then
Says horses and slop bucket smells, gaining the footing of paved streets,
Over septic systems carrying the
Saintly smells of yore underground
So efficiently, yet
We yearn
As an old man
I know yearning, for days gone by
Now golden
Were it tinged glowing gold by my mind decades old or by
My eyes cataract and unfocused,
I do not know.
Why I would like
To know.
At my age
Is the future still
So far off?

I'm so antivax maskless, I'm petitioning the courts to remove my polio and smallpox, diphtheria and whooping cough, and measles Vax from my *** immediately.

I want to be free of serums, free
to enjoy paralysis, coughs and fevers like God made me.

****  my glasses are fogged up.
Wait a minute.

Freedom is an ignominious thing

To have loved a cat.
Amongst my accomplishments this ranks highly.
So, I gave freely. Understanding the rewards might be fleeting.
Yet I loved whole. True.
The entire monty.
And there i paws
A cat hair in my eye on lookout for every stray
Who happens by

Seeking....



Nor, is it folly, to have served their whims upon a silver platter, when rewarded only by their regal indifference. For, there comes a time when you feel a bit down, or you are sad, and lo, her catness rubs your leg, or turns her head upside down and let's you rub her belly.
And the ultimate when on a dark gloomy night she consents to the rare kiss on your lips. And rubs her side along yours. Softly

I was looking for
   Sudden stark compulsion
A reason to write
      It didn't come,
Nor did,
        That impulsive spark
Of inspired words that
      Rhyme whether right or wrong,
Instead of wisdom or genius i came
        Upon however just write dont
Think yourself a lexicon or a mad
          Puzzling wolverine red words
Dripping endless from the throat youslashedorall goodpeople  
Suddenly left behind who never
Dashed
Comma'd

Were silent.

Just gonna list all the wrongs not the small **** not misspelled words or dangling participles or mixed metaphors or two used when it's too much to bear, hate it, but can live with them. So I begin, as if I have a right to, like anyone cares or will ever listen, to list in a minute, next stanza, paragraph, whatever, maybe
Oh dont gag. ******* you can't listen to a rant.
Hate silence, that ghost in a room cloud of doom kind of dark hovering.
Geez, I **** on myself trying to explain before I've even said anything.
I shouldn't need to explain. Perhaps I need to grow a pair believe its my ******* right to complain once. Twice.
I'm a bit analytical though in seeking approval. My bad, I know. Gotta work on that. Anyways, here goes.
I hate rainy days!

Don't hate me....

It's always the new ones
tradition
Breaks rank with
suffering change is us old *****
Wearing suspenders and
Proper hats. Fedoras and cowboyed
Booted gray haired country lovers hate quite a lot, not to mention pull their goddammed pants up. Music
Holy hell where's that gone to?
One soundtrack a few words changed rehabbed **** turned up until
All you hear is thump thump thump.
Should only be 50 plus years old other side the ***** ***** can be arbiters of morality and law and educational agendas. We pay ALL the taxes for ***** sake.
Not to mention by time alone we have earned it!  Built the country you despise. One kneed ***** calling for equality!  It is. There's no racism.
How about we have white men's month?
Get it?  
You blame me you young disrespecting entitled punks.
Just know, we did this. We built this country the GREATEST IN THE WORLD!!
I'll be ****** i let foreigners in , and blacks to take control.
I'm going to listen to Tucker now. He knows.
Fox News knows.
Goodbye.

This age
         Of the end justifies
  The lie and reality
        Is what you say enough
              Loud  proud
      
No matter

Fornever howl amongstest darkless how that makes one grasp
Upsides down when down has been a view for too long when
Reconizating it in anothers view
Let's say their red ****** swooled
Eggs aside
A grizzly nose a burbank chin a long since washed smell
How that makes a view
Of septic wonder realitating
Obfuckscuating
The governed publicity *******
On a hot day June year unknown middle of somewhere wishing it were Woodstock again hearing echoes of

God only knows these kinds of sink swim knee on neck sarcasm and violence lying loudly from every space time capsule
As

They walk wildly
Around
Lactating drooled ******* genetic mutants
Robots

I'll just take a hit
Now
Thanks

Sit here

It was when the dichotomy resolved into various divisions of reality i saw the absolute wonder of it all and its unknown immensity a cloud of particles opaque the view beyond now obscured and the past a path of uncertainty unknown whether it were a dream or reality I seem to be congealing now into a mass of carbon atoms annealed to a mast of the most oblique ship with no mast, on keel no more away on a shore deserted no more
As I laugh

Sober, for now
   Such beginnings reach a new high today, like never before
     See
It didn't take a substance to get off
I inhaled nothing
Smoked squat,
    Was alone in my mind and
reality, set in. The calm clear eyed, looking at a clear sky,
Mid-day kind,
      How **** peace find its way there?
Could have been leftovers tripping or off- kilter stray endorphins, or serotonin somehow getting back through
The blocked numb receptors,
I give up.
It doesn't matter to me but I feel
Akin to some lab rat subject wired up and fed *******.
I truly might be.
It might all be just a hologram.
I'm game for any explanation
But quantum entanglement on a scale greater than  molecules or brain synapses or chemicals.
The whole experience was caused by me giving. Feeling empathy. Feeling a part of something more immense, instead of apart.
I'm rambling.
A better explanation, might have been in symbolism, perhaps that
Is the derivation of religion.
I just know, for a while
I was composed

Some had found happiness
A couple found love
Another groveled in sadness
A few became known
Yet wherever all ended up
They knew they had touched
The bounds of infinity
And the peace of knowing.

How sad it all
Every passage not a poem
How useless normal language
Has become
But, can one infer its all
Been for nought
When people you touched
Once laughed and cried

And there lies the mysteries
No philosophy has answered
While in hell or heaven
We aspire.

Has HP so many spinning wheels anymore?
I wait to heart a poem I like, comment, save a work, and I get,

A spinning wheel

Or a little sign:

Bad gateway. 505

Are we all dead?

How here
Is one more purer
Another whiter
A color so wrong?

How can the outsides
Of a thing make dirt
Fiber and tissue
Stronger than heart?

And how does the sun shine
Equally without judgement
Or doubt on every facet
Of life without question?

As a storm crowns with terror
Who escapes it's
wrath,
And is killing for hunger
The same as ****** in rage?

How can we take pleasure
Knowing eventual means death,
And how can lovely eyes hide
Such hateful revenge?

All my questions unanswered
From centuries of presumed
Wisdom, religion or philosophy,
Leader, or peasant.

And since the clouds open exactly the  same for creatures as they do man,
And the storms turmoil neither
Measures good or bad,
And as the trees and grasses grow as well for the
Masses of variety,
And the seasons ebb turn freeze
And boil-
Isn't it with reason I ask
How then did man
Reach the conclusion
Of his
Superiority,
At all?

The spider scurries up the wall into the kitties paw,
Curiosity once again fills
My mind,
Wanting to know
Who wins.
As the spider falls
The kitty searches
And life goes on

If anything makes sense,
Please tell me how

Dream, a wisp of fancy, flight
Of whimsy night be night,
A way down the hall a
Festive ball looking onto
From outside the arena,
A tall castle spire,
From under, now,
The figures dancing how I envy
Their grace their gowns and smiles the festooned
Caronas like crowns I imagine bestow beauty and power,
Just me prying eyeward between
Cracks in the wall
How beauty agrandizes
Those few chosen ones.
You who don't need to grovel,
Beg or steal
Those whose only need might be.
Their will
And who is to say they don't
Deserve it. How am I to judge
Their seeming divinity.
All I know, is I'd give a **** to know which type of God made it.
And go to my grave,
Cursing

Then,
Just what you do,
After lunch and a cigarette
Naked as a Jay on the duvet,
Go then
After all, the fun has ended,
As the door closes,
I whisper....

Temporarily

Able to approach most any subject,
Abject or object
With cursory concerns,
Taking them as they come
Or they go,
The detail we all face and
Where do we go,
Seems to be almost
Caught in my throat.
As with each year that passes
The inevitable becomes
Nearer and my choices
Clearer but my convictions,
A bit more dull.
I sometimes wish for a warning, sort of a message of
My time is up,
Then say, no,
Make it quick, just turn
The lights out.
But, I'm guessing I have
No choice.
I'd like to die with a
Smile and a hard-on,
Or watching the love of my life's
Eyes glisten.
I want to be able to take humor
To the next level.
And turn over,
On the autopsy table
Giving the medical examiner
A good scare.
Or sit up in the casket and high five the crowd during my
Funeral.
Or expel air, just when they lower me into the ground.
So they winch
Me back up.
I'm guessing,
I won't do any of that.

Forever then came like a battle
out of a parade, chaos out a
celebration,  color out a prism
All banded,  separate,  but one,
None more colorful or known,
a gathering of none,
black as the moonless night, hovering above,  cold seen but invisible as icicles on a caves entrance, utterances
High and low voices forming no words but a guttural instinct and a glow from heaven
Or below?
As sects, theological participants disbanded became part of it all a half soul half soup conglomeration of writhing
Arms legs and hearts unwoven their denominations woke up
To stare at the awakening the unknown.
Who knows what they said.
Or felt or clutched.
As they faded back into the cathedrals of dust.

When you get home when your eyes are open when you are tired

Wake me before the dawn in the middle of the night when you
Worry you may never see light

Wake me from nightmares I travel in horrible sequences of monsters and demons

Wake me and hold me
Tight

Wake me after my last breath has expired as my spirit leaves this sphere as I try to reach you

Wake me long after I've died and been buried, just dust in the earth

Wake me then by a memory of a day long since when, I held your hand to my chest pulled you close

Wake me anytime my love for
Its your presence I cherish your breath I breathe your eyes I get lost in

Wake me now, honey.
I'll kiss you
Again

Every song has a serenade
All the plays a theme
Everyday has its mysteries
And time has its end

As we all find her limits
As we come against the wall
Alone except for memories
We bend but never fall

With everything that's
Come before
with that star
Near our grasp
Just out of reach
Is the goal we
Have searched

You can't take riches anywhere
There's no silk or gold
There where we keep
Only our soul

Someday the roses wilt
The monuments built
Crumble, words that were spoken, still

Echo beyond, and eyes
Weve felt,, all the hearts melt,
Though flesh turns to dust
Our energy is forever more

We return to the stars

Bastions of minions compulsed by the roar
A minor compaction of death
On the lawn how
Upside the distracting messages
Cause so much to be wrong
How leaders become the problem death but a number
And rights are all talking points
Unless they are yours
How propaganda intenses
And soars until lies become truth
And truth is no more
When we look days long past and since might we see our children
As pawns in some war or as
Vital to survival above commerce in ethics and mores
There is no one to hold guilty
No more the game
As a pawn is to queen
Yet I discern among all the collective a willingness to hate to cast the first stone
When we should look at ourself first
See where we went wrong

Snake in my head my brain twists round a flick
Attacking front and back delusioned took in sheep
Fearing wolves teeth accepting
Eyes of a dandelion for
Sharks teeth describing insanity
Amid humanity and toiling still
Maskless rabid tongue savages
Mangling the sabbath
Crosses slung as martyrs in devils disguise a rabbit
Looks up surprise
A crowd of proposed Jesuit boards
Who's knives hidden
In lying tongues
Stab out all the sudden
Taking ***** and Gomorrah
Wrath and horror in God's name
Came dressed as saviors a blithe name and a traitor so slay him make this day done take no prisoners it needs
Done

Soul full a ball
Of heart passions
Beat

Anyway winds bow
To the ocean mists anyway
Voices silenced through
Eternities shout
Anyway meek inherit sunrises
Or sick all become well
Anyway the wind blows
Is all about life
You know
Anyway its all been said done
Before
No man bound in gravity can in
Anyway become godful
Anyway just a thought
A brief roundabout
A trip
Yes

Long
Has the song
Been in the trees branches
Over hills
Swept sweet in streams
Cascaded upon meadows
Fell to the ears
From heaven
Resounded angelic
Familiar cries in the woods
Depths of all seas
Valleys echoed
No mountain has missed
No lion has roared
Not a man, be he human,
ever ignored,
Perfectly the voices
Signing breezes
Of things
And all that
Can be

Absolutely a possibility the new know all that there is to be
Without rearing or influences
You see. They see.
From the beginning maybe
Experience colors the soul a
Bit pessimistic or routine is
It or reality that
Days add more than wrinkles
To our cheeks, perhaps, days add
Crinkles to your synapse,
A fold to your temporal lobe
Not temporary or extraneous that we learn evil,
Not a bite from some apple,
A reptilian representation, or
As we crawl skinned knees
Burn supple becomes calloused.
As It were, instinct, I can
Smell
Burning like incense in a swaying
Silver cantonment ritual.

make a great escape, when
You've already dressed in character
Ten years you can't all the sudden decide to play the main character when you're the author, right?
Having spent my writing career a failure, obscurly devouring other's failure,
I find it considerably immature
to, all the sudden, turn my back on my own lacks of talent, and write something brilliant.
Though, I wake up, middle of many nights, sweating,
Words on my breath
To change heaven to earth,
Conscience, like a time-traveller,
Of the butterfly effect,
I stay quiet.
**** me.
I lie.
I just can't remember
Long enough to put
Word
To
Paper

Diving
Feet first into boiling sky
Feeling bolder then my first time
Higher than I've ever been
Never minding how shy clouds get, they close upon your open eyes, in dewdrop drifts
Cotton puff mists,
to catch you when,
You"re about to cry.

And then, mistress mountain sighs, a layer of white crests below, wings of despaired tiredness, no longer need
To hold you up.

Diving again.
May I never come back.

Down

Whatever happened
        With shortening?
Haven't seen it in any kitchen
          Or recipe, in
Fourty-five years