if wish merged with might
grew a tail and string was strung
from when i was thirteen
on a green grass field to now
in the air so high above
would swoosh
my kite
all the birds would be flying
below.

if when comes a day the sunset does not amaze me:
     or my nose does not sneeze at the breeze on the shores
a wave splashing, I turn my back to, or
         any dog unfed goes by my house without a bone:
or a willow finds no one hearing her cries;
           a sparrow flies to alight on a limb
and I take no mental picture of.
            Or I forget to tend my yellow roses, and they become all thorns.
Or I don't get high when the bee or hummingbird buzzes,
      or when I sleep long and miss,
the mystic mountain as it grows out of darkness
       at sunrise.
**** me quick, if I for a second quit believing that life is meaningful.

and rustled the paper
and went straight to
the sports section and the
box scores where statistics can be
compared relative across generations
completely missed the obituaries
the Editorials
the Advertisements
because
Batting Averages Yards Gained
Touchdowns Home Runs
Saves
are comparative back through centuries,
Editorials and ads are slanted.

If only a glimmering pond to view
   a shimmer to ease my fear
of being cursed to look
   in an unreflecting mirror.

My sight is sufficient
   as I can see the first break of day
before the **** calls his warning
   or the horned owl beds away.

My touch is sensitive enough
  but I know not what I feel,
the pain of ancient splinters numbs
  when I touch the spinning wheel.

No, my sight is not the cause
  of my inability to hear
the sounds that I must make,
  it is the unreflecting mirror.

Perhaps outside they watch with me
  as I shyly shed a tear,
I cannot see our faces, though
  in the unreflecting mirror.

Standing before me
its green boughs reaching high,
I wonder the Christmas Tree why?

Does it stand for the
history of man-
his goodwill?

Or, for the world
of the future that
awaits, still?

'tis glitter , 'tis tinsel
a peaceful glow,
do they come from a world
you and I know?

Pledge, to me Christmas tree,
that you stand for tomorrow.
Where hope and  brotherly love
replace turmoil
and
sorrow.

re-elected 2 years in
emancipated from the Jackie Robinson thing
on a larger stage
causes everyone to listen
authentic  not posturing,
claiming a place in history for
America a teachable moment on the eve
of a Supreme victory,
rise  rose soar up
from the heart
spoke of race candidly the
gains we have made the road still needing travels.
He said Grace. He spoke of Grace. He spoke free as and
strong as an American President should. I witnessed, his growth
Our Countries evolving. A new day has dawned. Today.

is a cow revere able
or a pig inedible i love bacon
love me some
is
a Rosary sacrosanct? a belief
untenable
no!
But, there I go preaching,
as a much revered
man
once did: " Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.”
why on earth with all
intelligence , no where else found not venus
nor moon nor stars, why do we
on earth
**** for
religion?

that is the one I love the most
I said as she walked away
far away, she gained distance and I thought
it was all so ******* bleak
then saw her
and her sway
her smile
her new day
to save me
her *** was incredible
her ******* the perfect upturned shape,
I even almost loved her,
but she had tastes and habits
slurping her cereal in the morning
grated on my nerves
and her bras and ******* all hanging in
from every god ****** thing,
she got tired of my sinus sounds
how I was continuously clearing my throat,
money became an issue ,
I wanted my beer and cigarettes
and her, she wanted leafy vegetables
and hummus?  Fun while it lasted,
but I felt terrible when her new dude came and
got her. Until twenty more like her
had come and gone.
And I decided to try to love myself.
I quit all the *******,
the feeling sorry
the lonely nights and
saw I was good.

Delilah!

And a shave,
     because I am overgrown
with hair and testosterone,
           clip me where I may deflate
in ego and ride me with estrogen
    until I say Aunt,
cause my Uncle is gone
        I remembered.
He ran away, never to be seen again
           for my Aunt was a *****.

Life lightly drifting like seeds
of a dandelion on the slightest breeze
up and away beyond
the day to day  bounds
over fences to a grass greener
over a tall pine
in the distance
to light down someday real
in an arm of nature a face
of sun
a light so brilliant a future
of limitless creations
happiness
a smile of a cradle of
green hill
over the horizon once
now real
so flesh and blood
and I treasure
I see
I saw I know
this is where
I choose
to make my home

Another day playing chicken
in my head on the tracks
laid out strategically rich
through fog .. woods and city.
I follow nothing but the tracks
today, a few times hitching pretty,
sitting in an open car to smoke
and watch the land and water flash by,
now sunny, then rainy ..
I stay south in the summer climes.
A fight with a Wabash Cannonball
wore me out enough to make me smile,
hands on hips, I ran a mile to get hit
but the train lost again.
Having fun in my head, wanting
to be dead tired, and I am.

where and ever came
down through the centuries
of myth and mystery

fallen from stars making
dust on memory
or tongues laden

with silken fronds
tasted of the ****** ponds
first created

or earths pushing pulse
felt and trying to
recreate the solemn

bit of pounding heard
like the taste of an apple
bit

and God pounding fists
in Heaven seen
or Norse Gods

or the Saturn  Neptune
Greeks colliding
to make

us wiser then

Drape the corner
   you no longer come close to
weave a memorial
  to our grandmothers
out of your way
   I toil
subsist on carcasses
     play my eight legs
like a trapeze artist
      feeling every twitch
in the corner
    where you no
longer play.

I breezed thru and coalesced in reality
reminding me that i said i did when
virtually I did not, I a stump over many months
like a hibernating bear(ish) bore
ask to  cleave unto your remaining wisdoms
and plus I love you more.
so, claim me, frisk me to see I am(mo)
unarmed,
play me tunes of desamor or elvis
I don't care which.
Watch at me whilst I peek you
say hello when you mean bless you
stray from your regular course
meet me on the 18th hole
of the country club after your other goes
homes.

In deep sleep forget
fall into
remembers
shimmer in repose
somehow see the known
like a minaret mimicking
a place
of prayer
a parakeet saying what
excavates our ministries
until a foundation is reached
a truth
build then upon the prayers.
Build then
a truth.

style; perhaps my frenzy unedited
kind of poetry contrasts with
those whose whims are more whimsical
a four line acbd or my liberal taking of conjunctives
and splices my way
contrasts ;
tell a story is my parody
give a scene make it half real at least give character
with ambiguity, let the reader finish it:
prose a theory argue it halfheartedly
when the theme is never that ,
between lines is much of
the daily things, so in my poetry.

and he had a little small bull pup, that to look at him you'd think he wan's worth a cent, but to set around and look ornery, and lay for a chance to steal something. But as soon as money was up on him, he was a different dog; his underjaw'd begin to stick out like the fo'castle of a steamboat, and his teeth would uncover, and shine savage like the furnaces. And a dog might tackle him, and bully- rag him, and bite him, and throw him over his shoulder two or three times, and Andrew Jackson which was the name of the pup Andrew Jackson would never let on but what he was satisfied, and hadn't expected nothing else and the bets being doubled and doubled on the other side all the time, till the money was all up; and then all of a sudden he would grab that other dog jest by the j'int of his hind leg and freeze on it not chew, you understand, but only jest grip and hang on till they thronged up the sponge, if it was a year. Smiley always come out winner on that pup, till he harnessed a dog once that didn't have no hind legs, because they'd been sawed off by a circular saw, and when the thing had gone along far enough, and the money was all up, and he come to make a ****** for his pet bolt, he saw in a minute how he'd been imposed on, and how the other dog had him in the door, so to speak, and he 'peered sur- prised, and then he looked sorter discouraged-like, and didn't try no more to win the fight, and so he got shucked out bad. He give Smiley a look, as much as to say his heart was broke, and it was his fault, for putting up a dog that hadn't no hind legs for him to take bolt of, which was his main dependence in a fight, and then he limped off a piece and laid down and died. It was a good pup, was that Andrew Jackson, and would have made a name for hisself if he'd lived, for the stuff was in him, and he had genius I know it, because he hadn't had no opportunities to speak of, and it don't stand to reason that a dog could make such a fight as he could under them circumstances, if he hadn't no talent. It always makes me feel sorry when I think of that last fight of his'n, and the way it turned out.


Mark Twain

greying in the distant
add
   white and black
the horizon  dissolves
   off

the depth
comes forefront
    becomes colored,
stands resolved a painting
  of spires in
the distance
temples nearer
            horizons
hills over
    we climb.

for all his life he stood alone
observing
a sovereign being he felt uninvolved unmoved.
He had the intercourses in community college
humanities and social sciences, he still felt
separate.
He had a very neat flat, on the commons.
Kept it, oh, so neat. He kept on seeing all others as
being another course. Then when a day came he felt,
he saw a girl get hurt, I won't go into details, but,
his education did not help him.
He had to intervene. So he took his ball in his hand, bowed up
became a man.Was a hero for a moment, then.
He turned out dead with a hand full of nuts.
I am proud of him.

Cats are buzzards
Just can't fly in circles
But they can hover

What tonight? Is the night
my darkest
treading salty breezes in alleys
buoyed by soliloquies
westwardly blown and transverse sway on whitecaps
and sonnets?

Or my course steady hardy trod
on and straight
in haste of promise
or youth mistake?

Blue, bay and sing attention my way,
two by two,
one day the rain stopped
and unfairly, naturally lost I
would... i did...
chaotic as ever,
and had no regret!

never a doubt my preference
for dreaming of a muse before paying the rent
or walking along the river and seeing
the nymphs I dream of playfully naked singing
a tune
instead of going to work
again
hiding in the bushes to watch
birds coo
or climbing the highest tree
to view an ocean in the middle of Alabama
I make up
several  mermaids populate this sea
along with serpents
vitriolic pirates sailing away to rob the
scalliwag English
in the Pub about midnight after visiting regions
of my mind
I take sense and remember last time
I had my last pint
too early,
Friday was a scant paycheck, so...

seducing a retina all flesh like
and curvatures, how can eyes feel
soft pink or taste desire oh
they do
in the dark just feeling
how do eyes feel?
In the dark sensuousness
the tenderness
eyes have their ways
no mystery is all this no
Fantasy, too
eyes are the entry
to the mind's
godlike way

It seems I vary
out of my territory
I change to be what gets me through

I am so polite
     when I brunch with socialites

Dress all cleanly, wash behind my ears
      going to job interviews

Act, is what I am, an
       especially Sunday

Most o' the times I am
        drinking stunk on Cuervo's

And skunk
        rockin' rollin'

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed'and gazed'but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

sans elegance not trying for
just words told in the daily
senses a tale told when
tall trees make their escapes
and long faces

on the streets concrete
stealing the sun buildings blind
all shadows
hiding in alleyways and parks
not there

the greens taken westward
nothing left but fake plants
wild roses wild anythings
a **** growing is a
miracle

there in the neon blushing the
iron closed gates the broken windows the anythings
foisted down can be rusted old told
as  the factories old men
on the corner left
forlorn

***** stolen drifting as well as can be
as could be known or told told by the swollen
ankles unkempt sides of the boulevards
running

not to here
but through
and how did you expect it?

venus and mars shine in the dark night sky
I with my bare eyes caught  a glimpse one day of a star shine;
I studied for years refractory sciences and lens technology
until I developed the focuses to approach you, so far so
beautiful so unapproachable, by the naked eye,
wrote a thesis on tracking the night skies,
won my prize, you. My beauty.

be a feetless floating
gill fin laden underwater
poet, My mouth would still gulp
I would recite and still stutter
all the words in fish languages
and possibly mate
with my father's daughter.
or my brother's mother.

The infatigable undefeatable Maurice Brown
Played the tuba down on
First street. Freelanced.
I saw him once spanking that ***
On Mardi gras
Long ago.
I sent him a shot of Bourbon
And a jack back then
So admiring of his
Oomph oomph bellow
His large belly fit that brass
So well.
He was backbone of the street
Musicians marching proud
Through those streets lined
With drunks pickpockets
**'s pimps and beggars three.
All he cared about was that driving deep sound
The shot brought him
In the needle after
Performing.
I saw him last time ten years ago
Asleep in the gutter down on brown street.
Alone his tuba
Gone.

I think I know so many people so beautiful
once i gained a bit of notoriety and all I could
think was how nice sweet all these strangers are
when i don't know them at all
but for their words
sweet
and comments nice
when I go to their profiles
I like to read their statements more than their poems
things like
trying to be a  poet
or tired and dried out
I search for depth and abstracts
few say I am writer
one said save a life
I especially liked one who wrote
Just writing what I think, what I feel and everything in between.
and that said much but
I feel a kinship
a closeness
with those I never met in person
I suppose
you do too/

it's secret
the place we get
our inspiration
it takes sacrifice
suffering
a whole lot of meditations
it takes thinking alone
feeling the whole world
being
your own soulmate
losing things
being alone
having patience
being sacrilegious
questioning
accepting
reading and sacrificing
sanity
being unafraid
being afraid too
it , this takes
a gentle wind
blown
from the mountain tops
that makes you
want to describe it's taste
it's feeling
it takes an appreciation
of  color
brown green
olive
on your
mortal soul

the show became  tell
she slipped her black negligee
over her shoulders
let it fall delicately to the floor

took my hands in hers
placed one on each upturned
breast put her foot
behind my calf
pulled me forward

whispered, superman,
in  my ear,
this girl was a pro
I swear.
She knew all
my weaknesses
I call her Kryptonite.

I call her every day.
She rarely answers ,
anymore.

beauty this vision a blessed
blossom on a wispy stem
swaying
glows in the dawn glares in the dusk,
beauty is blindness,
love is mortal,
I lust
for beauty and
blessed
ephemeral
meaning.

by
us.

Mr. robert,
    amongst those trees
on that snowy eve,
   above that frozen lake,
in timber as cover
         pine straw my relief,
My horse, a bike,
       a horse I wish for,
My wheels speak
        of just miles
left before,
          I sleep.
Amid the bed of pine
   my eyes weary.

somewhat such a much noted someone
said such a noted quote of noted importance
it's echoes overtook my reasonings
whereby her songs of words
those carolings
the octaves
her notes
of truncated
calls
like birds
on the wing
became the notes
written by
Mozart even
the soft violin
pressed into a chin
fluttering above the halls
of auditoriums like
winged angels calling
a hymn from the vault
of Eden.
I sat hand in chin
balled up
like birthed again
seeing
for the first time
Heaven and all that is.

Eyes do see the mystery of stoic conceit
an acoustical noodling or youthful brooding
never given back to me,
my craggy voice
precocious rise,
never the less a leach upon the dead
I
sacrosanct lie,

decomposing words of dead poets
horrific:

an aura of
trance in elements of infantile exuberance
my lyric prose a protuberance,
an instrument
played at least as much
as i sought the rhymed.

Blown, fuse.
All the power out.
I can't find the short circuit.
a roundabout and electric light
orchestra
are all charged up
awaitin' to  play.
I test with me probe
to find any all
broken connections.
Eel ect try fye
I search Google for help.
I search the walls I have
built (my
fuse is blown, I suspect)

\The creep/
that+adds -subtracts
in ^positive
reactions?
walks a mile in contractions#
sees he face in no refraction:
as a lush(
is innocent)
adjusted for lack of guidances empathy"
the clarity of there is&
around<> him
the hunted the hungry_
grow nevertheless
feasting on the living
misgivings
knocking ******* a dime for
closed door revealing
what they done=
is unforgiving%
a sheltered

amazement!!!!!
nested in forgetting?
the ultimate destination is a }
waiting?

the haziness of dream like laziness
smoke settling as fog around the mountains where I
try to climb are fires burned
in memory and wave as flags on top of steeples
I try to mount them all feel needless
when I envision them
shine glimmering breathe clearly-
the cleanest air-
like a weight has been lifted,
off a chest, where once
a pull and push entered, a darkness, felt
like a ton of fright.
Then I changed how I saw it all.
Got high, a clean one,
and imagined you
and I, alone.

as one
a play between
a man and a woman
fantasies of a man in jail
and the woman who released him
so let us go for a five mile walk and imagine
hold a pulse in our hands
while we listen to
"All my lovin"
to remember he said
'don't ever take one day for granted"

on toes right round
conversing with god
the edge very close
almost falling down
when the strawberry
lips of the betweens
came and I came and
all was frozen in the
true sense of the word
she called me  by my
name at the time
superman

silently......
she turns
the darkest night
into a
cloudless day

quiet into a
parade
and seconds..... into the hours
I wait

'til.... I bathe in her breathlessness

lay my body to rest
weary of hammer splintered hard work
i tell my mind to rest
and it doesn't
I turn and think of her
and that promise
feels like my nail pouch digging in my side
again
the vest and bow tie that day
comes to my mind
then ten years later
still tossing and turning
every night
hurt by more than hard work
and splinters in my hand
this carpenter
jackleg
has pain from
his heart and memories
that won't
go away

to think I think
feel believe
I am real
to where
I really believe
I feel that I think
I am
really thinking
that I am really
real

is your hair
fair is not nature
she in her nebulous
taking
   in food
    for
       hungry
          animals
kills

you in your beauty too,
  shaking
       no your head
           no you
              said

breaks
into Mother Natures cruelty
her war chest of pain and suffering

bumblebee sting

deep inside
where butterflies
                wither
                          die
                               float to
                                     brown

dirt.

under a well-
   contented sky of blue lashes
dreamy
I felt so fortunate, so, full
   to be granted the
opportunity
     to behold the beauty of all this
virtue,
so,
I felt a Goddess, had thought of me
reserved,
this place for me, to see,
so,
I bowed down,
and gave thanks,
clapped
earnestly,
cried
reproducing the
roar of thunder.
I cry out
un- ending
Joy.

What may be the consequence
to evil deeds and disrespect
When one starts out on the wrong path'
and sees but does not change

And who will in the end
embrace your ego's need
and self-respect, you lack
in your indulgence.

But, who am I?
But, who shall say?
One day the truth will be
self-evident.

We will neither lose nor win
as I live my life in confidence
and you in needy resonance
I wish I could fulfill.

run for President
of the United States,
But,
Trump has me beat
for being
an *******.

So hard
here
perched
on this
uncomfortable
chair
i hear
a mockingbird
say someone
is stealing his words.

I preen and roost
tend to my
nest
alone
drinking from
a fountain of ale
golden.

flying around
outside my lair
squawking
I suppose all has been once said
by that mockingbird.

I suppose
I steal
a squawk.

One's-self I sing, a simple separate person,
  Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse.

  Of physiology from top to toe I sing,
  Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say
      the Form complete is worthier far,
  The Female equally with the Male I sing.

  Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power,
  Cheerful, for freest action form'd under the laws divine,
  The Modern Man I sing.

Walt Whitman from "Leaves of Grass"