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

I commanded all the soldiers riding asleep
this vision of me deep in the black
getting even or growing bigger?

From the waist down I was a horse galloping
grazing any pasture I pleased,
prancing into the forays
winning every battle.

conquests easily the day was pleasing
the prairies all mine. This vision what I was in, was the epitome
of lacking awake the fortitude
to take what I wanted.

Courage I had, one dreamy night, I guess I was lucky:
You acted like I was Cochise and you were Pocahontas,
on the range our tepee burning down the night(mares)

needs desires possibilities
no one can defend
rationally
leave them I wish
somehow someday
just when
I look forward wondering
another life
possibly
the life I am a flower
a tree
a milled seed
food for all
powder

and drown in the desert
fall from eyes a dry tear and witness
the effects
that spoken words have
between mountains and winds that might be taken
in in sorrow but bless all
are not listened to
when all is golden
and so never
answered when you need help.
It is left to us
to resolve if hypocrisy
is to blame or
are acrid tears
always meant to fall
on deaf ears.
Tears are meant.

And deserts die.
The rain is wet.

like a building without a facade
a church without a door
I stammer
utter a false prologue
made up in a backyard of days
past
sandbox hopes red skins sweltering
where we never tired
just played
with matchbox cars
and saved all our popsicle sticks
making lanes
in the dirt
until  mama called dinner
and we ate pork chops beaming
those days I cherish
now I
sit on the couch
reminiscing

that was  yesterday, I said to my sinister sister
she replied that is everyday
I made a face of derision
she drew her face into a gargoyle almost
threatening it was
if she had not been my sister
and I knew all the evil she had in her was
to trip me ice skating and break my arm
I would have been scared
but I saw her and our horse
he hated her
so I knew she had this evil streak
this horse was calm with everyone , but her
he bit her every chance he got , kicked her in the guts,
I rode him *******, he took off with her one day and ran her into a
hanging sign, broke both her front teeth,
and would not eat from her hand,
he was very clairvoyant,

you say , I think, I am just
transferring sibling rivalry into a thing,
not true kind sir, she once
made fire out of my baseball cards with one look
they just flamed up. I think I had pulled the arm off her Barbie before but , hey.
I didn't do it with my eyes.
I learned to get along after Mom and Dad passed
mysteriously.
Then at our family reunion , the thirty year one,
I got suspicious. Only her and I were there.
We started talking about the past .
I said I had to go ***.
Passed the restroom
and have been running ever since.

It's  like a minion of missiles
all aimed from different angles
that my brain gets on alert , many things gone awry,
puts me on stand against all incoming messages,
a call unanswered from me babay, a neighbor who
tells me my yard needs cut,
a landlord wanting rent,
a someone wanting this or that.
A cat rubbing my  leg purring while my terrier wants a walk down the street.
The last thing I need is to be  in public.
I want to see an empty
lot overgrown with dandelions way out on county 69.
walk way deep into: bed down and spend a night under the stars,
just  me the only chirping
crickets and tree frogs
no cellphone
no dial tones
no connectivity.
When I get overloaded
like this.

what makes the dawn so light
the day so bright
what makes a night
but innocence and sight
gone
I have been blind so long
to beauty to ever long
again for
sunlit  days going on and on
never ending
my eyes
blinded
where night and day
gets all
turned around

tender was as soft as any fluffy cloud ever
hovered over
any straw strewn field
soft as bunny fluff or
a kitten's purr
green Illuminata on a screen
of Daisies dalliances with efflorescent
shields of sunglows radiance
illuminating the hidden parts
the mind's shadows
a part
in a play one act
a display of life's reality
sunken a bucket far down
into the deepest well ever
returned full
of glittering
clear
stark
pure
beautiful
clearness

I spore my load upon
sumcummwhat
displayed
or nevernot
I plot
plot
a seed sought
a barren thought
ambiguous but lifelike
naught
articu(not)
but life(likes)
so
life like (without)

We are surrounded
by angels........
seance
no longer,
it still goes on
and on


on
the poorer
get poorer,
all earthly
belongings
i carry on
a stolen grocery
cart,
am
i
an
angel?

never been there
West Virginia
or anywhere like your heart

covered bridges
ancient ridges
all those lonely miles

between the coasts
I wonder what every mile
every smile is like

a coal miner's daughter
miles tick
the odometer

as I traverse
states
many ladies addresses

all forgotten as
I go now with only
one destination

righteous is as righteous does
and I so love my neighbor's wife
don't need no lawyers just a justice of
the peace a keg of beer some
pork chicken
and charcoal 'round here
a bit of dirt to kick 'round
four wheel drive
a Remington
and two bits
'round these parts

Oft comfort home is but dark settles lonely and she's out there spinning my dream the part of me that means love
I want to breathe maybe tomorrow
Her perfume of neck glory a scent
Of her hair my pillow is dry
And the journey long
is well worth it and time is going
To make better the end for both us
when I taste her desire
And I find the end of the rainbow
Nigh,  I will doubt me not, will
I not I the imitible nebulous precocious, I am mighty
undeterred by time or luck I'm
Focused, I'll begin a new country,
I will, or a very near universe,
A citadel on a hill
On mars If it takes that,
Or a newer brighter sun a sun
that shines love light like
beacons on blind lost souls
searching
for love on lonely
pillows

never speak as if the idea,
of you being a poet is gone,
for what and why.
Words are all in the sky free to use,
arrange as you imagine their needed placement,
take a few ,spit twice on your palms
rub them together and make it. true!

come and sit beside me once
see there the corn growing the
peanuts all green in the vast fields
acre after acre as far as the eye sees

on the skys the vast seance
we become the norm showing
deep blue endlessness the view
miles upon miles

spheres of red dirt soil the life
blood toiling the smallness of
life of individuals like I
become slight in the haze

of the distant fogs
my heart just one wishing
a tiny tale among many
Trite causes me to awe more.

I see the offspring and generations
as blind to feeling. The weaknesses
I go through have all before.
There is a scheme.

I wish I could figure it out.

mere life is
plenitudes
disarray there is
subcutaneous actions little lies
subversive factions actively pursuing
evil deeds wrong hating
stabbing
the well felt
normal, actually
living beings,
I just don't turn
my back.

bird, on chirping winds, fly on violin like strings strung from heaven
raise thy wings as instruments thy voice  as fluted angel breath,
strum your breast absolute, play the wind wood , pause midair, flutter,
into the air my feathers, go soft then beat and beat the air your wings a drum a conscience, an oboe deep, a music follows you,
soft
into the woods.

so long ago,, perhaps before
I was thought of
on the shoulder of a mountain
i was an old cedar
then, and lived centuries
just watching
the world turn
and the mountain and me knew
what was important
was being
more than I know
in this life
in the shadow
of then
now.

Apple, peach
doesn't matter
as long as whipped cream
splatters,
I dream of.

A slice, spread
on the beach of
passions paramount
matters.
I dream of.

Candles lit
flickering of
rewritten eyes see.
I dream of.

pleasant, can
you dream with me?
now that you see.
Dream with me.

something is there about the inside of a soft shell turtle,
how the knife slides carefully close to the bladder,has to be precise
or the smell ruins the appetite,
where it may turn your stomach more
to see the heart beating after the head has been buried
or the hard shelled eggs, just like the grocery store,
or the eggs looking like caviar, yellow bunches of fertility
strewn around  with intestines and livers,
and  let one with the head still on
get loose, is a race , and I didn't blame
him for taking a chunk of my finger,
or scaring my tough neighbor,
or hiding under the house for days,
until we caught him innocently munching on the
lure of lettuce and worms we planted.

wanders on the last acre of a hill
with crooked flowing  turns like it tries to share
nourishment with every inch of ****
every root grows toward
on the corner where she turns the last
and heads down to the small waterfall
grows an oak
large as my dad when I was three
stately guards cross creek from turning away
from flowing in circles feeds the evergreens and every **** waiting down stream and all the fish
bristling
at all her banks.

Oh , lord,  thine vision and temptations

standing quite naked before thy vast rivers
crying

of sufferers praying out thy name

I see thy greatness
while I ponder today's headlines.

In Daleville Al.
    Daleville man arrested on multiple ***-crime charges,
(his bald *** lived in the trailer behind mine, as of this writing 5 under age girls are accusing him of ****** assault)

If I were God, I would not wait until after the fact to condemn him.

Headline: Obama calls hostages' beheading 'pure evil':
        Well in the name of god why let it happen, are we in the 6th or 21'st century?
Why do Mohammed, Jahweh, Jesus, Buddha, or Sol or Adonis, not smite  this foolishness?
Or let us involve the argument, we are given free will.
For what has the grand creator been playing this kind  of game?

Thor thunders as Eloah (used only in poems)
watches, but credit him if you are the lone survivor in a catastrophe that claims 900.

Jehovah, let me ask?
Where is all this going?

the persistent din, drinking
       as much in
Port or starboard, seeking
       cheap taste, like Gin.
Blunt, wash away
       constantly
any and all situations, we're in
       wasted, a National preoccupation.
Down in the hatch, consuming
       combustible
plant matter, fun ingesting
      soaked in waste we
stumble away/
      wasting.

My big red nose... shoes three sizes big ....I
calliope in amidst the din.
with my chin high,
to where the women wear Dior and Gems.
The men are all ten feet tall and more.
Yet. I fit in.
I like these politicians, trip eloquently on my tongue,
stumble headlong into ice carved pictures of my thing,
I have red ears, wet eyes, say I did not mean it, when the media is around,
just the same.
I fit in.
I go home with Madamme,
treat her to tricks, while
her Daddy Warbucks,
goes  out with strippers.

get all the rows in a line
like the mirror at a Van Halen concert
trade beers for a sign
from god or a sombrero

take a long nap in questioning
society all but my own
destination, a burrito full
of angst swallow myself

take the next girl who smiles
at me for a long ride
on my magic carpet
the next dude for a few beers

the next *** for a meal
the next jew for a Christening
the next Christ to see Allah
the next hobgoblin for Xmas dinner

see true the next patriot
coming back from the war has
been through hell, was just a tool
to build a monopoly

the ******* the corner probably
had it rough as a kid,
and just give her twenty
with nothing asked of her

but then heaven is not here
so what is this, Hell?

Not fitting in a round hole
because you are square
Not being divisible
without a remainder
Not philosophizing
when compromising
using bizarre formality
when the fantasy is realizing
the dread
is
Not a dream.

I bet upon imagining what it may be
that it is real. I felt in my dream,
and thought the vision would be
there so real on awakening.
So, I recreate, here,
the fog the mysts, the screams....
of us, I saw eyes closed,
eyelid screens, of what may be on earth.
i peek.

I am the wind
the snow flurries the cold
the heat of the sun burning
a lump of coal
keeping you warm
I am all
but your thoughts
yearning

Frosted window, what mystery might I see if
I just wiped clear your pane with my virile hand
wiped all the frost from your face with a strong loving touch
would it, could it bring
a sunny summer scene
of lovers beneath the willow tree bright clear skied blue
romancing
in rainbow hued
dream.

before the last breath I ask am I forgivable?
I in strength forgave those who laughed
i in weak times spat in their face
I was formidable in me.
I saw beauty, I played the recess with melody,
i forsook those who loved me. I gave, at
times what I did not have, I shared tears and cried and felt.
I carried those who could not walk.
Then, they carried me.
I fell down, got up. I went down to the valleys,
up  the hills,
played when I should have been working.
Lost I was most of life. I never lied down.
I had red in my veins, given by destiny, terrors at night,
visions. Deciding was hard, to be me.
I share with you my inner self
honestly.
.

done coke or **** ever in my life I am just like big pupiled and naturally paranoic , my teeth have been falling out since before ten and i do brush them.
It's all just this bad string of luck I ran into , like
when I could walk.
I have been sober since well I do not remember when.
I'll get you back, I promise. Just let me hold a twenty, my mama has no food.

I will go lay down
      with one flower
one day
    
if but one minute
    her petals surround me
one scent of one second

envelop me in sweetness

are automatically enrolled in some
jury
after THEY get saved

believe what they do

forget their sins


what happened behind the closed
doors with
indignation
righteous forgetfulness .

Condemning
is so easy.

That is why a god should be

IS

so forgiving.

defined by daily chores responsibilities
next months rent payment
fear of utilities cut off
how to eat on $10 a month,
I rather would buy milk for the stray cat
I  adopted
a cuddly friend
that had four cute kittens who
so far with me have
a roof and water and a place to meow
explore
and a slice of my baloney
my bare feet to play with
so, am I wrong to play make believe?
To spend my off time from
the daily grind, the labors of surviving,
enraptured by the beautiful sunsets,
is it wrong for me to dream?
I clipped a rose from a bush today,
brought it home, in water in a plastic cup on
this cluttered desk full of pen and papers, erasures
cigarette ashes aspirin and allergy capsules,
It the one bud glows in true beauty,
hope and nature and memories,
her petals a new play toy for my imagination,
and the kitties paws.

just a heart on your ankle
red on gold cherry ****** ring I gave you
the vine on your shoulder now
and I wonder as I fill my cup with hot coffee
across the street from  our loft
in the seven eleven
the people seem to know
I can see our balcony and the ***
of  irises still growing
like wildfire
a testimony to once
and when
must be my stare

Once upon a time,
   whence when I learned to smile,
girls came a'beckonin'
   walks home were no longer alone,
and smiles smiled back.
   Night was severely shortened,
The morning arrived before
   I had the chance to dream.
I smiled.

I carry on this uneventfulness life
thinking big thoughts
grandiose visions of
wealth fame castles

I am happy in my make beliefs
I say a bit more than
any ordinary take out the trash
dude

who has two times he climaxes
in reality
while I ***
at the drop of my fantasy

hat

there in
a cobweb corner sits
an old grand piano

not used to play
any note in four years
and probably out of tune

her strings loosening and covered
in silk, no hammer has touched
or fallen away as quick

all the soundboard does is warp
under a stress of thirty tons and four years
alone

I add up all the plusses
subtract the middle fingers
divide by you and me
   and decide it does not matter.

so cognizant of all the sparkly diamonds
like lips calling me to kiss them
all the brightest sunbursts explode inside

colors flood every pore

more than any man could ignore

standing alone among  the crowded loneliness
wishing for

all the sunsets crimson staring back
just awaiting one beating heart to
call him say true love
save him

dreamer the fiction seer of visions
the illusions of perceptions
the daze of humans
the false water shimmers
in the distance as
we the believers
transcend this temporary
existence
do we softly go
along the hot sand  burning
our souls
or can we make haste
imagining our
ultimate destinations?

one solution for petty souls
bickering back and forth continuously.

Block all of them.

And I will if you don't stop.

This is a poetry site. Not a teenage High
Schools Blog.

T'was a twext
     my twitter did feed
all a'flutter
     in twembling misdeed
of sextin' and textin'
     in twitter lo'
when lo'
    my twue love
did appear tweed off
    she did said
you two timing tweeter!
    and flew off!
again!!

mom,
sorry about the roses and the broken vase
sorry about your birthday I missed
again

I am the little imbecile  you created
after all
heard you call my sisters ******
swear at them all night long

been in the circle when you swung that belt threatening all of us
"who stole my Snicker's bar"
so sorry
all of us forgot mother's day

let's see if you get anything next year

Taking charge when our congress won't.

push up the daisies
      did my last nut
written my last
    idiom
got all bunched up
    in knickers
when
       I met them,
Fifty-seven years
    ago.

I much enjoyed the way
she did not look right through me
she did not pierce me with soul
******* ball shrivelling contempt

or grab my buddy's *** as soon
as I turned around or his girlfriend's, also
I liked how she drank as much as me
but didn't slam her drink on the bar

or challenge me to arm wrestle her
and spit her chaw right womanly like
on the floor, and how she braided her
underarm hairs

She walked gently like a model
in her pointy cowboy boots
and her big knife in a sheath along
her right hip complimented nicely

the 45 colt on her left.

if I bled myself dry crying I realized
no one would notice
which brought more
self pitying flows

if I quit I would never
feel better
so I again cried
not a river

just a trickle
of a poem
sort of a leach on my soul
bloodletting

just enough to get
on with it all

gone with the record collection just
fly beeeeeitch!
I had ten years at least
of changing my name and ordering
13 free LP's on Columbia House
and RCA invested in that
a penny like twenty times
had some of the best Tull
and America vinyl
Eagles and Uriah Heep
and you had me thrown out
on my *** like I was yesterday
by the Beatles
the cops came said go
I did
but I expected my record collection
and my Bose 901 speakers
that mustang all in parts in our shed and parked
without fenders or tires  on our carport
and I came back to get them
and you had gone
with all of it
so just go
I don't think Columbia House
is in bizness ******
anymore-
what can I do?