I find some amazing things when I am
not looking for them, they seem to find me:
forty bucks in the parking lot of Dollar General,
when I walked  there with a pocketful of change
to buy a cheap cigar, so nicotine
deprived,
a dog left in the country by somebody,
the best behaved most loyal black labrador,
when I was lonely as ******* hell,
and she is now my shadow,
kittens in the laundry room and a
mama looking up at me like , I am sorry,
when I had lost my best friend the week before,
her a cat lover and animal hoarder,
and I calmed the mother cat and said I know
you are in heaven Marge, Thank you for
letting me see!

those chords constructed vertical ladders,
vines to climb into heaven,
sing thy song rooted tense dissonance
resolves into absolute consonance.
Verbs into consonants.
words into rhythms , cries into hymns.
Thunder into ears, building in pitch
combining rungs climbing into the highest sound heard
backed by the drum of heartbeats, low loud continuance,
surrounding beauty and impulse,
speaking of every one who climbs,
up ,down,
harmony.

I have gone unnoticed
    since that day of imagining
you
      on my black satin sheets
on the fourth of July last year
     so now at Christmas
I made from memory
   a stocking that hangs black over my empty bed
a canopy.
          Now I sleep on the love seat.
Was, hoping Santa
             would bring me you.

kittens aren't always the best audience
when I get to singing
Up on ******* Creek
Saturday nights
they just lay there
like a real audience
trying to ignore me
but as long as they don't tip
my Budweiser over
we got an agreement-
if they sit still and don't
hiss
I give 'em a
plate of tuna

the mezcal incident, now
that was surely one doozy/
started out with a shot of Patrone
no lime or salt at ten in the morn'/
at this strip joint in Wicksburg
where they advertise
two hot babes three skinny one's
and one big mama,
on their marquee, which is one of
those lighted portable signs plastic letters things
the kids like to vandalize by
like on the Natural Light Deliverance Tabernacle
I minister at occasionaly, we have one of those ,
had In God We Trust , lettered on it on saturday.
Sunday, at eleven, when we arrived for worship ,
it said in dogs  we gust,
limited letters to arrange so,
I got the teen hoodlum gyst/
I ramble on so much, wouldn't
blame you
if you lost interest,
but anyways/
this day, what I mentioned early in this,
started out fairly innocent, a drink
a gander at female utilitarianism,
and a shot,
thing about tequila
sitting down you don' t know how ****** up you are
get up, try to stand and wow!
I keep digressing,
that day
hell I ******* forgot/
Sorry to lead you on.

I cough up green dye
see through cobwebs until i
die or get coffee early as i
speak with Jesus and practice being good    nightly
long into the night
psalms and burning candles at both ends is
what i seem to be good at
swear on dead saints graves
put away when
i gets woke
the can of beer i slept with
into the refrigerator. Consider,
I make special amends, when i get back from working
and find that beer and strain it,
Make sure no roaches float in it.

why is it at 5 am i get the urges again
to write you silly love songs
behest
the urges to go
and buy four more
to quench my thirst
like today will be so different
and so it goes on and on
like I don't know the
days
numbered have my name
or any river
that flows on
and on
might change course
suddenly

this is what it is
and downstream is tomorrow
today is now
and so
I say again
how beautiful it is
to not worry
with such things

Take us a tumble into arms of another countries rubble while we tweet about a Kardashian wearing some revealing dress on a red carpet while massacres go on around this land, on minimum wage we air again Wal-mart's latest offerings a chartreuse meandering, I think I'll get my nose pierced. Buy the newest I-phone.  Hope it comes in yellow.
Jews **** Hamas and Iraqi's again are opposed by ISIS or Saddam?
Let us arm the cops with video. So the next time a black man runs, all will be exposed. Let us show on Your tube and mine on you tube or time the next one to die and be left four and a half hours dead. In the middle of the ******* road.

the songs have all been wrote before
the poems all laid down in history
every thought and dream seemingly
has been explored
to the depths
of the last word the last letter
into the bare necessities
into luxury
said  much better
sung like it was there
from the beginning
that is what intrigues me
how vast the world of song and art and words
can be
making lives better
better said
touching all is my goal
I fail
but I have to try
and I can't sing
either
on key

...winters have passed
unto the distance glance my lass,
upon the hill far off on horizons that see in dreamy visions.

Appear to you, oh, varied girl
the tallest steed dressed in pearls a diamond braided rein,
A knight in shining armor upon that mount will be hurrying
riding fast to meet you between here and now.

He shall hold in his strong hands roses, a white dress
to dress you in, a veil to veil your purity,
again. He will tell tall tales.
Adorned thorn less, if you see,
your horizon
that same destiny,
he rides toward.

and every day is a chapter and every
dream a limb
every new thing a sunrise and  every leaf
a hymn
and every song has her melody
and every tune her key
each wisdom its simplicity
simple things their place
prejudices their predispositions
and harmony her grace
and a new day will dawn
I am so sure
where the trees grow flowers
of fruit and the leaves fall
like money and
the songs are as melodic
as wisdom on a new sunny day
and the people place no
thought to differences
i pray

10 seconds
too long
1/6 of a minute
wrong
rearrange priorities
don't risk
unnecessarily
true love
or stare
too long
at the
sun.

wonder how the days have withered my leaves
into songs recalled and loves remembered
all along I thought the sun was shining
but then I got all old and wiser

amazing how the crystal clear of youth ambers     like
an ancient jewel

how these eyes got so much dimmer yet
brighter in hope in seeing things clearer
even though the distance blurred the close is
obscured


how then I found one day a jewel
among the crystals of a sand dune

is amazing again
I sit and analyze and I guess

it's karma

never has nature blessed on any one face
so sublime the treasures men seek
never ever has since a thousand ships
were launched has the world
seen beauty abound as fair
and uncommon;
Where nature has been harsh
to so many I see,
she was storing up all
her wonders
to bestow on you, my dear,
there " 'bout your dimples
those pursed ruby red lips
eyes deeper that any sea's depth",
but she , nature, may have stopped skin deep,
for I thinks, thou doth know
and enchant your own self
more than any man,
therefore the saying of
beauty is more
than skin deep.
Oh, oh how  I know, now,
oh fair, fair fairest
of all!

a drinking duel to George Bush I lost once
a woman to George Clooney
I spent many George Washington's
foolishly

Listened to George Harrison sing about
My Sweet Lord,
and related more to Thorogood
One scotch , bourbon, beer

I wish I was funny
as George Carlin,
or had the clarity
of George Orwell

But my name is not George.
I am not Patton.
Can't sing like Jones.
Or compose , like
Gershwin.

I tried to change my name.
It did not help.
so , don't
call me George.

his heart like a 20 oz framing hammer
his fists a sledge
his mind keen as a straight edge and razor knife
his body made hard from long hours
a grip like a pipe wrench
he would shake hands with vise grips
his gaze unnerving
but smart
he could see through the blueprints
when he laughed , which was seldom,
he shook the foundations.
When you needed his help,
he was there.

never perish
              promises
get broken
                    hearts
torn apart
          fences are
put up
                  a true smile
a real friend
        no matter
                 what happens
is always
           remembered
in temporal lobes
                    to be
replayed
     again,
again.

Scribble letters on *****
mail, the back of which
empty, lets us broke
*** poets leave our
scent.

Advertisements, notices
of foreclosure, a
Sheriff's warrant
for thine arrest,
does it matter?

Envelopes correspondence
from those we no longer
want around us
scribble words we somehow see
as more important.

Then throw them all
into the pile of refuse,
and garbage spoiled
like we do our life.

let us all recycle anger
and turn angst and hatred
into money
for more dope

all us good ole' boys
in Bamalama
got to fight for
the right to kiss
these southern Belle misses,

It's slim pickens and farmers daughters
guarded by big corn fed brothers
daddies shotgun, here, in Dixie.

I don't have a John Deere or a jacked up
four wheel drive pickup,
my accent is acquired from all the years,
to them sounds unnatural,
my drawl.

Hell, I don't do nothin'
no more, but fight,
it's like a civil war, I wear
a smile, you know, cause the
farmer's daughters,
fortunately are curious.

I wear a black eye
and red lipstick mark,
on my collar.

from a single voice I breathe
symmetrical and perpendicularly
when
from me, two lines meet, and I diametrically oppose
myself, interpret lines as flares or
fires, get eyes of worry
fuzzy visions, I stare,
into a mirror and stare back at me.

fancily dressed we stride
on main street down the barely lit
side streets to get to

The view, on the edge of town,
west of here and now,
where sunsets are gathered
into red and sorrows.

Or we live across the tracks,
where fancy is just washed and patched up,
still,
we stride with the same
destination
in mind and soul.

Futures are still written
only  with pen and papers, any
rich man or pauper shares.

May we someday, be equal.

dreamed I was dreaming
of being in a dream,
Pinch me three times please

worrying of a brain hemorrhage from illicit
things or prescribed demons,
a coronary on the verge of happening,
a massive overdose just waiting,
a psychiatrist not really solving,

friends, saying take this
pharmacists street and legal,
medicate your will into a blue green tired
witching siren screaming into wigging violence

take smoke shoot **** hit bang wig go off get on get off
you think for ten minutes slow decay fast death worlds fall around you,
no outlets, no day sleep until you take somethings,
drink gin fall in your puke smile
never
again.

So much I strived for
missing....
a tender touch of
us... does
turn me on then, it
******
me off, on guard from
changes.
You allowed me to
say no,
my  listening then
to chords,
of dissonance blue
loose discord true.

You know sometimes, I don't know why
But this old town just seems so hopeless
I ain't really sure, but it seems I remember the good times
Were just a little bit more in focus
But when she puts her arms around me
I can somehow rise above it
Yeah, man when I got that little girl standin' right by my side
You know, I can tell the whole wide world "shove it!" Hey!

Here comes my girl, here comes my girl
Yeah, and she looks so right; she is all I need tonight

Every now and then I get down to the end of the day
And I have to stop and ask myself why I've done it
It just seems so useless to have to work so hard
And nothin' ever really seems to come from it

And then she looks me in the eye and says
"We're gonna last forever"
And man, you know I can't begin to doubt it
No, cause it just feels so good, and so free, and so right!
I know we ain't never gonna change our minds about it - hey!

Here comes my girl, here comes my girl
Yeah, and she looks so right, she is all I need tonight
(Watch her walk)

Every time it seems like there ain't nothin' left no more
I find myself having to reach out and grab hold of something
Yeah, I just catch myself wondering, waiting, worrying
About some silly little things that don't add up to nothin'

And then she looks me in the eye and says
"We're gonna last forever"
And man, you know I can't begin to doubt it
No, cause it just feels so good, and so free, and so right!
I know we ain't never gonna change our minds about it - hey!

Here comes my girl, here comes my girl
Yeah, and she looks so right, she is all I need tonight..

be brave, give me
your hand, touch me.

Oh..... sigh,

Write again, the stars flowers ponds
But,
when you desire
a real touch
come to me.

When you put your pen down,
when,
the time comes: the ink is leaving
your paper blank.

Love is now hard to write
about,
Put your hand in mine, touch.

Old age has its  advantages
because
I find it harder
to remember what it
was
I was trying  to forget

my bizarre trendy artful life
set my goals for February
now that it is March
my collage calendar full of
last year's appointments
now that I am
focused in, touchstones
challenging ahead
I meet tomorrow
at a glance.

though effort,
       hard textures
personal failure,
         lyrical climaxes,
arbitrary closing
           the opening of
senses....

        feelings,
pain ecstasy,
              evolving,
coincide.....

to make me human...
   brings gloom
the taste of sugars
       at times
simultaneously,

my head revolving
    spins takes all of
all in.

taste it's bitter-sweet

she wrote me a letter, scented
of perfume
I no longer had my third biggest
budget bill
the plug in air fresheners and
Febreeze
by the gallon,  no longer needed.

And, about then I got this Email,
invest
in the US Postal Service, the stock is at an
all time low.
So now I am much richer, more wise,
conscious
of the future again, it is smelling sweeter!!
I have
the emailed  stock certificates to
prove!

I re-invested all those savings wisely.
awaiting
the dividends. When I sit vicariously, pouring over my balance
sheet,
I find Olde English and cigarettes have
risen way to the top of my budget the
empty
cans are my top asset! I
smile
at my luck, almost like winning the
Lottery!

Thy beard
        thy hairy chest
whence once
         waxed I loved
thy forehead now
          one eyebrow dense.
Thy woven nest
          so thick a moss a forest
so numerous, I can not
          see the trees.
Thy scisssors and razor broke
          No Nair nor candle left,
I can no longer tend you.
      
I have weaved those armpits for
the last time,
you need
a riding mower.

all the hearts the best sunrises the
firmaments
the stars above
the us below
tomorrow and memory
a birthday surprise
the widest smiles
a handshake
a close embrace
the condolences when you have lost someone
a walk along the riverfront
the willows branches crying eternally
the new child born
the old wise sage
the sweet grape
the sour days
a new moon's rise
a sliver of
the last month of spring with
flowers bloom
the births of hope
I bequest you
all I have ever cared about
and hope it is
enough

there goes time immemorable
in suns and moons treasured
in lives measured by men's days
and woman nights
in dusk's inevitable
colors clearly grey
the balances and weights
sway to and fro and in between
the horizons and present days
eyelashes breath away

once a day I spend ten seconds sorry for me
then ten hours on those worse off
I think about my problems too long
and not enough on what I can do to help others
after all what good is pity for me I don't like it
nor do I pity others I empathize
try to put my foot in their shoe
and it makes my problems dematerialize
and one day I will wittle it down to ten seconds a year
and hope I made a difference
before I go
on to whereever
it is old hippies go to
then

are her sweet melodies her sighs to
conciensciences her breath raising hair on the back of your neck
her rhymes her yelling at your heart trying to
wake you from your sleepiness her
silky smooth cries in the dark her poetic
inspirations her life her sacrificing sanity
her melodic guitars her hymns her spirits so obviously
inspired by gods her nature her wisdom her her
not enough

a virtual frame imaginatively
borders a frivolous game
of finger paints smeared
into a caricature,
a name-less master
with childlike innocence
sculptured and formed
the symbols in pastels
and gray fingerprints

Sunset red glows yesterday
my breast fills as I see,
fill me, life's destiny.

I sigh an immense  perfect show
and, praise, I do,
the  crimson hues,
and sing of victories past

in the golden vast sphere of natural,
like every animal every
beast made, even me

in the midst of decay
I sing the  song of old age
in the breath of last depths
I ask for one last view
of the sunset's crimson hues.

Willing slaves are obsessed by freedom,
and envy free men's riches;
Loathe to steer their own course,
yet they curse their masters wishes.

Beneath their oppressor's dominance
they beg for their own choice,
but, lest they acquire freedom
even they hear not their voice.

Willing slaves merit their abasement,
as an odalisque securer still
than the terror of sovereignty
and the burdens of free will.

These willing helots, shall they ever tire
of their ruler's amnesty,
and shed their dark age chains of fear
to decide their own destiny?

Instinct inside of me,
in the most pious of men,
testifies to evolution
a reptilian brain stem,
procreate and populate,
the most fit,
Praise no God,
we are  human,
nature like dogs,
we follow passion and wants
blindly,
on autopilot, like flies
we are drawn to ****.

'twas an era
long haired boys in bell-bottoms tie dyeing getting high
on peace, love , humanity. From
Greenwich Village the derivations of cool
ask Malcolm X  about a white man?
There in Isle's of Wight
a Human be-in
gathering
at
Avandaro, NZ
Nambasia,
all over the world a cannabis peace
festival.
A higher Mardi Gras.
Is the origin, earlier?
Der Wandervogel, perhaps.
I will, no matter the beginning,
dream in kaleidoscopic colored visions,
Lsd hallucinations, flashbacks,
of what this world, with
less greed, less war,
more the hippies vision,
may be.

Blessed we all are we know it with expanding technology we are so blessed with. Unlike our ancestors, we no longer beat our clothes on a rock after
washing them in the nearest stream. Now we stream a video. Aren't we lucky?
Firewood, is now a luxury. Only the rich warm themselves, by the fires We hack and split oak now for fun.
Now when we hack it's Home Depot or Target we seek For a real warming.
We drive almost on autopilot, with GPS and text. We are just so **** busy paying attention, we don't see the collision.
Mom used to make dinner. And all the family would gather.Discuss politics or homecoming. Now politics are virtually one sided and homecoming is done on Skype. Hello poetry.
Think about it.
Are we better off?

promises by god are forever
as sure as mountains stand against
the test of time

and holiness is grass
under our sandals
man made castles

are but transitory
cathedrals beautiful
and monuments

to us are erected
only when we can't see them
my sanctity

yours and ours together is in
our words our
unfailing dedication to

our words

they say so much

last alone on headstones

I want to be the alm the faithful glorier
a day in a mind that keeps center about
a truth memory a kept kiss secret
in days of pink sky seances and
the solemn remembrances that people
cry for sob
break bread for have
tea in dresses best dress
around fine china,
though I never had any,
altered states where I might find fine
the silken robes those kings adjust
as they eye me suspicious
for I aim to change away
the blood rights judiciary
and make plain
pollen eye-watering.

Some things are just better left
unsaid.

wandering in the west wonderland of the east
coast of  psychedelia along the northern coast
of a southern island
I came to  the perception
of me as a scorpion
tail held high prancing venomously
striking the hand  that fed me
along the willowing trails of honey nectar
the rainbow sailing sailboats in sun
colors glistening
the breathing cloud skies of blue gold
right next to a godlike creature sat I
tail up telling tales
with poison assed consequences,
making promises like a politician
was a bad trip then , until,
I saw  bodhisattva sipping brandy and being just him
along side a unicorn on a hill
outside Hollywood
I took his hand
his discipline his calm
his realm now mine. He gratefully shared.
Now this was my kind of dude.
I waited around and he melted away
and ten vestile virgins appeared in his wake.
Each more beautiful than I can say.
And we ate strawberries and flew in the sky wingless
partied on shortcake and cream and I was happy once.
A beautiful dream a memorable trip.
It opened my eyes. My senses cleansed.
I  try to live just like that.
Imaging Nirvana again, every day

Poets in motion
Guitar Lord s Loud
Jimi at the Red House
riffin' proud

Sing Janis "Ball and chain"
John McLaughlin's twelve string
Edgar Johnny white as snow
broke all hearts on "Tobacco Road"

Can never forget Jimmy Page
"Highway to Heaven" is center stage
Eric "The God" "tears in heaven" played
as Santana "Abraxas" displayed
raw emotion skill complex
enough  to make one's soul reflect

And an Allman Brother, Dickie Betts
surely we shall not forget
Tom Petty learned to fly
and listening I thought
"Why can't I?"

idealistic,I smile to be deluded
by realism as the windmill slaps my ***
again, romantic chivalry my duty
saving damsels righting wrongs

In La Mancha in the archives my story
resides , and i have not been sleeping much,
reading causing my brain to dry , as a result
excuse my being quick to anger,

whenever I feel Dulcinea is in danger.

and, it has been many an innkeeper
who has knighted me
and many a beating I have taken
left in the gutter

as the priest decides which of my
books to burn in an effort to dull
my ardor, ferocious giants loom
disparaging my squire

calling him unintelligent
and greedy, to them I shall draw
my sword, to the death

To my squire's defense, I ride!!
Sancho will be governor, and my

Dulcinea is crying.

What sonnet drowning in I have drank again?
For the 119th time. It's taste sweeter than ,
the siren tears saltier,
my heart feeling more.
Replay thy fears and conquer.
Sir, your and mine hearts are committed,
woven,  in errors ringing,
sin, desires.
That is, My Sir, greatest Bard,
is drowning the silence out.
Oh, God of words,
you won.
I am understanding,
one 119th part
of your genius.

a tree
young sappling grown
in fertile soil well  sunned and dappled
grew hard strong tall and known
to all the creatures of the forest

his free
dancing in the breeze
drew squirrels from far and near
every creature within the bounds
of the forest around to see and hear

his breath
of maturity at a young ripe
age the color of his bark so clear
his limbs as strong as any seen

brought wide acclaim fame
and infamy because
one day he had the nerve to
walk away

pull up roots
make a way down the mountain top
to a place the evergreen
is not supposed to be

right in the middle of the
river flowing
and it weren't no breeze
nor typhoon

that set him there
it was his own free will
and he cooled his root and
sang hymns

to her

in the build of a nest for the flower
of my love interest
I gather gold and diamonds
sweetest thyme fragrant of the moon
twigs of lore, feathered with hope
in the strongest tree on the safest limb
with unfettered view of the sun's rise
the mountain hues
the mellow scents of hope
small treasures, I hope
beat in your heart
our wings
together.