many many
           flavors it comes
appendages entwined
           or a parental kind
degrees resist
           and are graded here
as is a failed attempt
           it does exist!
We are rewarded here
           for concept
and purity
           and fireworks
or fizzled fuze
           when it comes to love
it is not confused.

what will I create tonight?
a question uttered in my head-
will it flower or fall dead?

echo in delight or encounter dread?
all is open, I question me again,
what is the purpose?

what may this pursuit bring into being?
Imagining worlds of words and inner voices
magical or hauntingly.

blue at times on the cusp of something deep and profound
or careless on  the brink of a laugh at me
or subcutaneous itching all over for something new
now I am in between caught right there where I doubt
the next meaning and **** itch
is quite annoying
as are the little thoughts sprung forth from inside to
fleetingly go away as fast

of some hard rock
out of snow powder
the alarm ringing in the morn
when I have had two hours shut ******* eye
I love hell out of some butterbean ****
a handful of ***
the last drop of malt liquor
the taste of that last kiss
the sound of an unmuffled
69 Mustang
red of course
drive in movie screens
old quality movie stars:
Audrey Hepburn-
Holly Golightly-
you'll always remain in my
brain

In 89 the heat seemed hotter
here in south Alabama
when waves of rays on asphalt
black created nightmares
on my every day.

my wife and children
in waves of misery drifted away from me.
An unfair judge said since I was hung
they were to be hers.

I stood there with my pants at my ankles
feeling castrated.
I helped create my children. Where was my jury?

Eventually, through honesty, love
perseverance, and continuously holding my tongue,
my children came back, knowing the truth.

I love them.

someone done stole my baby
ran off with her in the night
updated her right out of my life
put her in some hideous makeup
made her a ****
a lowclass streetwalker
I search everywhere
can I get her back?

I remember sunday called by girl's names
then saturday and her dreams
the false impressions I came to believe
sat on burning bushes
made wine of water
imagined
heavens overflow
on a count of three
there I sat beside the brook divining
contemplating
playing blind man's bluff
as the ripples
resided
ebbed
the flow went round
the count got all the way up to
ten
i was asleep
and then awake
listened
to the water
the ebb and flow
the countenance
of the dead
and living saints
and heard only
a blank nothingness

i am quite used to strutting and
spreading my tail feathers as wide as my *** allows
calling whistling
walking the fence row  and the coops doorway
displaying all I got like a peacock
on thanksgiving  giving all the hen turkeys hell
saying in clucks what up beeitch!
I am not used to , however
that  god ****** hawk hovering over
circling
knowing I am a failure

beats  musically  the eternal
recalls remembers replications
rhythms  flows  driven
we just act innocent, is it all  all about hooking up
attraction, repulses magnetic ferrous responses,
******* or not,  crude, or maybe
I am not fooled.
It's all about how many times we get a nut.
How powerful we are, the total amount of
genetic code we leave.
Only one way
to do that.
We are,
all animals.

his crust barely rose
and the filling tasted like Geritol
the oven was rusty
the fork was dusty
the spoon broke while stirring
cherries preserved
in the closet since 1976

Written, felt
things that never happened
delved into feelings realisms
only philosophers observe
imagined worlds
of pureness of soft
pelts petted a kitten
took in an orphan
hugged a flower
felt for a bug
flew with angels
eagles and moths
climbed tallest mountains
just reaching for God
or saw visions of clarity
amidst delusions of haunting
reality
fell down at times we had wished
we stood tall
and been heroes when no
one else was around
we have shed a fountain
together apart
to make the deepest ocean enamor
We've and I and you and her
and  him and that dog that cat that flea
have just lived
like that mysterious thing
that sent the Universe
spinning around
just look
in a mirror

I,
individually divided,
we seen in dreams
together...... remaining as I wake.
Separated we desire, breathe,
the same.
A piece of a whole.
Go through through reality
and see.... obsessions, desires.... cosmetically
similar.
It is all so much simpler.
No matter
  the color or place,
face
or mother,
we....
are all the same.

if I had  only heard you call
sweet bird
chirp when I was noticing
when I had senses
those days long ago

now I sit and watch on the perch
a mute Mockingbird
a woodpecker with a sore bill
a Robin with no robin hood

a sparrow alone on a  limb
talking to himself
a  leaf waving in the breeze
and always the songs remembrances
softly haunting

gathered tense on a cliff of realism as I tried so hard to make you three
dimensional
and I fell again into dreams
drug delusional
and saw
that's why you weren't here.

daffodil
          in the garden
try to shower the moon
                   spray every star
like a tomcat tail in the air
                        or a skunk defending
                                           his own
his home territory
             in the woods
**** on the pine trees
                    let it flow on
like a fire hose turned loose
                             or a trunk of
an elephant.

**** on my grave shows me,
           at least you.
remember me!!

shall I compare thee to burning hay?
thou art more highly and more plenty.
rough tokes do shake the buds of August, and summer's shake has all too long to wait.
sometimes too hot the high of heaven shines,
And often is the gold reflection dimmed;
And every hair from fair bud does decline,
By chance, or nature's changing course, undimmed;
But thy eternal sizzle shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that buzz thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in a daze,
When in eternal times to fine thou grow'st,
      So long as men can breathe, or eyes get red,
      So long lives this, the smoke do smell like burning hay.

a little later the truth came out
plainly clear to see like it always does eventually
awakes with time all of man to truths
Aristotle and Plato got lost for
centuries but stood again
in a Renaissance
so what I said to you will
be resurrected under monolithic ghosts
of huge stones with no one understanding their purpose
or how the Red American of the 21st century ever created
full towers of babble in the future and so
I will then turn over
in my grave.

I found,  long ago, to first say thank you very much,
when online or at a dinner table, to
keep my elbows down
and chew with my mouth closed.

To, if I find an ungnawable chunk of gristle
I can't swallow, discretely take a napkin
and put it to my mouth
say hey!
Who is that and point, as I spit it into

the napkin then go on, enjoying the cultured gathering,
sip , with a finger , a pinky pointed in the air,
my tea and never spill
hot liquids.
I learned all that

at the nudist camp

verify....
        that when
young we assigned
flesh to beach sand
inventing the echoes
of conch shells the
blued eyed skies
defying harsh gritty reality
expressing ....
         that which
young we wished for
on concrete sidewalks
relying on mass consciousness
to make the veil of our life, less
depressing....
         a slight twitch
a euphemism
for seeing and not being ready

I had a little  money found myself
bellied up to a bar in Louisville
making the beer- keep keep it flowing
for long tall Sally and Gloomy in the corner
for even Johnny come lately
and pass around Patty
for annoying talkative Bill
and shy Patsy
even bought the  broke guy outside
the cheapest bottle of ***** available
ended up going home broke
wobbling , Patsy my crutch.
I would like to think
she was being charitable.

none reads
I feel like I have been jilted
by my dreams
like finding my best girl with
oh hell, I won't go there.
I get so downright  frustrated
now since , ( her name was Jezebel,
his was Anthony,)
I drifted again...
now I get frustrated
when Hello Poetry goes down,
just reminds me of finding
Anthony with a big smile,
Jezebell on her knees...******

my heart so enclosed
it seems in one of those
blister pack things that are
bulletproof
so hard to open you cut the hell out your fingers
or hand trying
to get into

the fallow field looms on
as the sky draws nigh dark
forlorn
fuzzy seeds from dandelions
grow high on the breeze
furrows run straight on over the slight rise
of the mid hill
on the eastern side
all seems peaceful
and the moon speaks his misty taunt
over the dark silhouettes
of evergreens
planted years ago to break
the wind
all is  calm
I feel farrowed forlorn
watching
I feel silhouetted


on a horizon
on the eastern side
on top the slight rise
following the furrows

I walk on

In what has become the daily
tallying of the sum
adding plusses
minuses divided by suns
a kept total
of souls
rung like molecules
none ever created
or spoiled,
is infinitely the same
- a quantum state-
where measuring
becomes the result
and the quotient.

there are so many stupid people
in this country

I heeded her dying words
the very last breath when barely I heard,
I will never truly leave you

I remember how I really did not hear, she spoke
almost without words,
as I wept next to her

with mind so full of fear I quieted
my thoughts and recall
turn to memories to resolve

and feel and hear everyday
her words and soul,
very, very near to me.

the salt breeze air the smallest things
the vapor song on valleys in the morning hanging veil like
misty air
wonder what they hide
there
the green trees on the edge
of the forest the of an overgrown untouched
someone or something
I travel wondering
mystic like
almost so many things wondrous to expose
these years days or moments
i have left
so I sit in the van
trying to stay between the lines
when I have
this urge to
veer

All of all
              uneasily awaits. unearthly songs
****** gates,
              to other worlds, other places,
behind the
              many barren faces.

As a stream
             made into lake behind
the dam of
             earthen make, the other worlds
other places,
             lie beneath calm water faces.

On legs of
             pain with burning eye, through echoes
of sanity's
             last cry, beyond the realm of a thousand ages
can be seen
             the cloudless sky, of other worlds and
other places,
             that lie behind the many faces.

rescue me  precise word then
concise
fall effortlessly from my tongue
  wise

sobriety would not exist
or for poor
not one would be rich,
if mercy was alone would we
ever be? Merciful.

If egotism disappeared ,
would one notice humility?
If all was one, four legged
creatures gone, or slithering creatures walked,
would any comparison be feasible?

If hurt and despair were sunken down in oceans or buried deeper still
under land,
If above the burial fields we walked forever,
would life be comparable?

If but for opposites, right without wrongs,
men without women,
time even drinking a beer thinking,
would be non-existent.

I paradox questions, ask
me, to what I wish for
what i want, Or, is the word I search for,
desire?
  whim is soft, whispery
would never fit, poetically,
my emphasis I seek.
I require a design of permanence,
Or do I?
Need requires, want desires,
whim is sudden
specific to now,
nit pick,
I do
what I meant.

thunder with my eyes
beauty in her radiance heard
lost dark and  light
sweet and salty been
near
the moistness of many tears
called upon the deities
cried out for forgiveness
sinned as a devil fork tongued
been the forgiver
been forgiven

saw the Valley and the hill
the long track of life
the many steps taken the many steps lost
been saved and saviour
both good  bad and between
been an artist and a creator
a lost soul

among the many things the vales and
pinnacles I have roamed like a sheep
and I seek a shepherd or a light
or something that makes more sense
to me

but in case
in the case life is but a jest
a game I see
I played all sides of it
may that make me
less guilty
less me

in the end

Heated
Baths of liquid gold on
Skins of alabaster cold
Were the touches
Of her hand
On his body
In his soul

If    I don't stop    
empathizing I am
gonna bury my ***
under souls    the
beggers
the down trodden
but I never will
no matter what pile forms atop me
If I can still breathe
I am gonna see hope from his armpit between her legs
from the bottom of humanity
and beg
just ease up all you upon me let me
have one breath ok
there now I am with you again
let's fight just get off me
run ! run , that's it
I will catch up
I am wheezing

Devour the black the absence of light ,
feast on writhing victims veins,
blood is so energizing, to live upon blue
red, the darkest visions
viciously vivid,  melts
me
I become the void,
devoid of feeling
I look into her eyes,
enjoy her tries
to break free
and run
I pursue, no one sees..
I look in the mirror and see,
nothing but dark.

was four balloons in the sky ,
cut loose to fly,
at the end of the auto dealers day,
I was done with my building a shower
awaiting my ride, outside.
The four balloons took flight
in a mostly blue sky, seemed to have
a direction in mind.
They were flying away from
the eastern grey clouds
into the more calming
west, filled with
fluffiness and calmer breezes,
I called to them, lying on
my back in the grass.
Hey you, blue balloon,
hey red one, okay yellow,
do YOU hear me, the white
one shimmered.
Hey, don't forget me. Come
take me with you, pretty
things, so free
and unencumbered
by things down here,
they seemed  gay,
one after the other, separated
by a few hundred  yards
I felt burden free for a minute.
I guess they inspired me.

purple flowers
are   a vine
thin


grow in the
words beauty
to paint him


climb a vine
clear through

smell Lavender
and find

Purple

It was on a quest we left Tupelo one night
about ten after midnight and made the coast of South Carolina
and her salty air at four carrying our backpacks loaded with Jack Daniels

We  shoveled along with worried brows, thought, we were followed.We had honey hope, innocence, and our quest would not be denied. We dug four million holes just in Alabama, no telling how many , as we slept many times in strange foreign lands read of the locals and ate their bread with gladness.
Walked and swam in currents that pulled and tormented, as we continued following our heart worrying  a little harder we got and stronger in this deed until we discovered Atlantis.
A small way, or half between Spain and France and Alabama, we found her. Buried by Shakespeare and covered with the ***** words of humanity, we dug up and exposed, our muse. She was death , and bones and honored her. We spoke of her beauty, not once but now.
For she symbolized destiny and how nothing really matters.

All spent of spirit
weak and mortal
I become a willing
double, wish to be immortal.

Take me while I am willing,
while I am not fearing!
While I am dizzy with looking for an end to this.

If a new beginning o eternal
rest, or condemn me to the fire below
for all my sins, I wait. Ready.

Judgement, was told to me,
by Father's, Son's, and Holy Ghost's,
in psalms and in reality.

So, I cast no stones. Closed my eyes ,
and tried
to look at me.

Now so tired, I see,
my sins my never reaching
dreams never doing enough.

I cast my remains upon the
pyre to burn for sins and wishes:
time is fleeting.

Take me while I see.

stir circuses out of the whirlpool
lakes of sky reflect on you
tangential yellow downy snow flakes
flutter down around
sounds make fools of ears the echoes
round round vibrate
then time stands still reality is and
it is all horrid ashamed
we you I grip our ankles
fall over into
the abyss
chasm spasming
petrified
life has caught up
they see everything
I am caught
a serious fraud
the Freud to your ego

it took but nearly a second
to sweep you off you feet
A wink
it took but a smile back from you
to make me complete,
we still are there,
in a good thing where
all I have to do is wink
you smile back
our passion eminently
true. Our secrets held  in full view.
The world outside us, stops,
looks at my winking at your smile.

i have had such a magnificent time here
on mama earth
been loved with so much abandon
been tried by so many woes
fallen down so many times
and always got back up
been without but never really
been destitute for
I always had on my shoulder
this little you
telling me in my ear gentle
whispering a few words
to keep me true calling me to wake up
stupid and see things real,
a little you my conscience
that scolded me when I did
wrong
and told me true
to not be too bold nor proud
when I did true.
A little bird like word on
my shoulder cawing talking like
a **** parrot,
awk
and I knew what it meant.

much true heart songs sung sprang right
by my ears many messages
I should have grabbed for but
I spin I spin on this merry, merry
go around dizzy,
busy, so as the bees have to
pollinate every flower my
missive it seems , as a male
human is to be promiscuous
I give a minute here
to enunciate my weaknesses
take my wings off
and be humbly
human.

there ain't no "Howl" in me.
Just the need of a fix.
       Love of peace and Jazz.
I still roam intrigued
   his passages, and mine here in Daleville,
among the cornstalks, my head can't ever stick out above the yellow
         fringed hayseeds.
I read of angel-headed dark Blake-like tragedy
the again coming wars, and I suspend,
        the beliefs,
that mine could transcend the dark of war,
or make a poem so right.
Or ever make a difference as the head banging
just keeps on.

Hey
me kitty sweet babay
my desire me ecstasy my dream
my day and night my sun my set my moon
I orbit my galaxie my universe ,
this is all unrehearsed,
my gravity I am drawn to, my soil I grow in,
my today, my tomorrow , my pleasure and sorrow,
my Queen, my kitten, I wish I could pet.....
I am going to the beer store...will be back. Call me.

of a whisper wild falling provocatively
across her cheek of wondering
when her hand will push aside the strand
look me in my eyes at the same time
I glance to see if she is looking
back at me

I awoke this morn'
with sunlight traces of hope
upon the  tiles in my foyer,
like wonderous stories
told upon
the future's worries
winter storms return
go away all away in the
bright shimmerings
on the castle walls
the beams of light
call the zephyrs of hope
into my den
my parlor
my boudoir
under my cover
of hiding
no mores

I laugh....
is just the wall staring back at you
and midnight
is the opportunity
to study stars.....
I sing a rhyme
of praying to make believe
of my arms upon your shoulders...
I lower voice...
whisper into your ear
a seance of us
wrapping our souls
around our loneliness.

into magic like
when I was a kid
her song sings
calling me forward
soft choruses
sweet pipers
tangerine suns
mystic glows
spriteful harmonies
strings  and bows
a party there
between
two eyes two arms
two souls
magnificence

what if anything were a song
what if the song I sang
were the end and be all
what if everything
was meaningful
what if everything
was calm
what if everyone
had their heart
in the right place
what if everyone
was good
like you and me
what if all the
world was in peace
what if tomorrow
was beautiful
what if poverty
was a thing of the past
what if demographics
were less regional
what if economics
had the answer
what if demigods
did not rule
what if
was the answer
I apologize
what if is a
question