by the window
I stood yesterday
awaiting
her to come back
I prayed to see
her on the horizon
i waited from
sunup
to sundown
and never caught a glimpse
I stand today again
at the window crying

fleeting time boundaries limits
surrounds around my being
weighed down with physical reaches
I spirit away unbounded
in creating MY
universe as i see fit with verbs
teeth grinning and nouns spinning
away
as I play without a box surrounding me
into infinity
surely
infinite
a day
a minute

where the most importance resides on
the meadow
rise
in apparent
glaring
I saw
her eyes
took several decades and wrong turns where
until I found that there
her being life
an angel you might call
her, yet flesh and blood,
and heart
and soul  so much
in tune with my
song
my lungs called her name for many years
sang out searching for her eyes
and did not know she had been
answering
all the time
along
in
a way
I refused to hear

And now,
like newness and hope and heaven
we sing together

as the trees sway shedding all their leaves
a cat hides under the dark shadow of garbage
left for whoever
away goes through the black ditch
the water
carrying the fallen limbs
while
in the background golden
out of focus
glows a blue moon
just above the dark
horizon

space so much
not enough thoughts to fill it all
it's wide emptiness causes me worry
pause

I get so lost when the margins are
infinity

the tabs so lonely

one of my dark secrets
I have this fascination with
the dark poets of rock the dead ones
the ones who blew their minds out
Peter Green
the crazy diamond the
Pearl
Jim Morrison
of course Jimi
I feel connected to van Gogh who died never
selling a painting
an angst a dark sided dream I
wake up to
with visions at times and words caught around my ears
with painted landscapes, I can't touch
so baby
I just wanted to say I am
touched

to my longings yore
for a bicycle under the Christmas Tree,
I wandered into the den
and caught mama with him,
a long white beard on his
surprised face, red suit on the chair,
mama's knickers on the floor,
and with much chagrin,
Santa the next day delivered
a new shiny Schwinn!  To me!

Paradise
   so a state of mind,
I look upside down
  at inhabiting Hell,
brave Dante's
  infernos,
Kant my vision to
  see the flip side,
Turn around
  look inside,
look at me
  with my head,
up my ***.

   I see a back side,
squeeze hard, then
   I will see
Rainbows and visions,
If I can squeeze
  hard enough.

the wisest wise *** ever me
seeing others so clear
turning phrases and heads
all except my own
knowing
the one who disclaims the loudest
is the one who farted

in  the foreground the past horizons backgrounds
remain stably consistent
in parallax focus the relative sizes of near
past over far
arises converges in a distant view
of fences shadows on the edges of fields of
diverging infinities,
darker plateaus.

like smooth velvet words
on satin blue skies with white *******
painted with corn cob silks
upon a  backdrop of the
brightest hues of yellow red
the contrast of a mauve overhead
glares
when the sky turns green along
comes  that starry night
of Matisse eyesight and Van Gogh
splashing
down to earth to soil
in awe my mind made all
it possible
the midnight majesty and celestial gazing
just here right now
on plain
mother earth

closing a door upon a distant
opening
a window out of clear view seeing
nothing
but you, pray at altars grave
echoing
silently seeing your face
mirroring
certainly saying alms to whom we
call certainly
I see grace of a lover
grieving
seeing my eventually
dying.

light explained be told desribed in physics books
photons waves and quantums
has no
shine like your eyes
gems dug from ground the biggest diamonds
no gem shines as bright
as your smile
lights up the night shinier
than stars or moons might ever do
no nuclear reaction is more reactive
or powerful than the
slightest touch of your flesh
on mine no
Shakespeare and me might come
close to painting in words
we pale
and wither in
your glow
sunshine tongues cannot
say how much
or letters portray
I shut up
you are ecstasy know now how
sun light moon stars
quantity functioned
to a point of infinity has  never known
you your face or time like this
Where light exceeds its speed and time stops
physics fail to describe
art strives to portray
man seeks everywhere.
Heaven only promises.
I found it.
here in you

all the cats scream
   like mittens burnin'
on hot tin roofs
   all the chickens
lower they beaks and  peck at the ground
   800 Old English cops
gather round
     when I get the inspiration,
and run around my trailer naked,
    a dead chicken swangin',
not a god ****** thing will try
though, to catch me.

suddenly I see how simple life is as
mama cat plays with a cricket
on the cold tile floor
flipping him over when he holds still
studying his every move
having a ball terrorizing this poor thing
but she cares for her brood with
unerring courage chasing the pit bull away
yelping as her sharp talons
taught him
to not get so curious
she eventually left
one leg left on the tile
and lost interest
went back to her babes so cute
and nursed them like a soft angel

the pit bull no longer ventures past the curtain
in the hall
and I haven't seen a cricket
since going to Annie's market
across the street where
they charge money for them


I was too late taking that cricket outside away
from her viciousness
she did what nature told her to do
I guess

this echo will only confuse
put your fingers in your ears
yell or hum
try to think of baseball games
concentrate on geometric figures
recall sunny days
picnics in the park
rev that hemi engine
neigh like a stallion
turn Led up
smoke a blunt
snort something
position yourself with a concrete wall
between us
think of gramma
whatever it takes
to not hear
or face it
write a poem
a novel
read the dictionary
just close it off
it won't do anything
but make one think
and that is painful

Hansel and Gretel were so named to make them
the laughing stock of the hood. They had a crack head mom
and a dad who disappeared before they were born.
Often they had to subsist on small tidbits of bread they
found on the path into   the forest.  

Once on their forages they met a little girl
dressed in red. She said her name was hood.
She had a red dress.
She had a knowing about the forest and the  surroundings.
Said don't trust no one. They are all *******
wolfs. And they walked.

Where they ran into three lil pigs i forget.
Think it was in Louisiana  around Baton Rouge
near the Bayou la batre and the wind was blowing
and the Republicans ignored them
and the Police kept them in

and the little boy, Jack Horner , who had a finger in the ****
saw them coming , and pulled his thingy outta the hole
and all hell broke loose.
I give my votes to the guy on the fence
who fell and all the King's horses
all the King's men
didn't even try to put back together.

i need to become
my own sullen editor
say no at times
delete my rhymes

in the meantime I suffer the indignity
of truth in brevity

tense, in the latest dense sense
genre in a milieu,
has poetry the last of the read
the meakest dead of a dead society;
her art heart words conflicting
with the quick signs of nascent
come hither
the bleakest nature of a coming and going
here now  culture.
I highly speak of her lost
virtues.
But whither I
among the
oranges we let fall
the apples rotted
on the trees
see seek the quick
prose
the way a novel
is now a novelty
today a
tweet hangout chat
is our way
to  ignomity

to worry is wasted, I confess I am not immune,
worry of empty board deceives me so: I see through empty cupboards
and night without anything but the bellow of my empty belly.
I see a clear view through  leaded ornamental sacred windows,
see nothing but a pulse, a beating. I hear a beat once muted.
My graciousness bows down.
I hide as does the hungry dog until the quarry is near.
I will spring one day, alight,
into my meadow and seize the cow udder and nurse my being from
vast ****** fields I feed, of words paving my path into,
where I will stand and see me now. As weak and low. See from my arising into what I dream, me, in pity as I was.
To this mount I climb, up around all obstacles. Into the meadow alone.
One great Oak standing, his limbs reaching up.

Born blue as the new sky sunny summer burnt ocher tree skins on the shoulder of green hill all for the grandeur of some Lilly's splendor audience to remember

dance fire in the wind
turn consume the ash flicker
disappear reignite above where you were
ignite the breeze spark
fall then flutter more
blue orange red green
your tails appear
then vanish
as warmth
as energy
as life

at her bequest I changed my hair and interests
she liked me how I was when we first met
and not so much my differences....
I changed, I guess, as we got more comfortable
grew my hair long again and quit shaving
watched less baseball and football
and watched more movies with heroines
and love stories, forgot my best friends phone numbers
and tried to remember anniversaries and Valentine's day
and Mother's day and birthdays
and lounged more on the couch
ate popcorn with my sweaty feet  on display
belched and farted as I pleased, it is as they said
that truly, one can get
too comfortable, and too malleable,
I am gonna watch more sports,
I am getting too estrogen
infused.

a contradictory metaphor, I see through,
the misty morning glows after,
I write under the influences of Poe or
Vanilla Ice songs in the backgrounds of my poetry.

Seek the darker realms of , Thoreau or
Romeo and Juliet, at times
when we make love.

My numbing goes so far, farther than
Frost on the tallest Mountains, questioning,
which ******* road to take.

It too late for me to turn back, to Whitman
dost the Bard laugh uncontrollably,
turns over three times, wherever he lies.
me thinks.

today's the first
   the checks are rollin
they oughta be money flowin'
   and parties goin'
and stems a'glowin'

the babes back on the go
   searchin' for green to roll
and bringin' in they next corn row

so, cash the checks
   pay some bills bring me the rest
I meet ya' at the doe' and sell ya' a **'

just give me a hit
   i'll give ya' no ****
and loan ya' my stem
   just don't push it-
          YET!!

all the daft of acting brave
the acts of being alone
of trying so hard to say
the one
word to  sing a perfect  
song
writing it to
no one in particular
stopping myself from screaming
out to everyone
how much the
loneliness hurts:
I am just gonna write
and scream and call out.

high school head
under the bleachers
while the players footballed
and helmets clashed
and my sweet Stephanie
was giving me
so young we were
contracted to no one
just pleasure
and discovery
and the crowd roared
right when I scored
had my cheerleader
and a bottle of Boones Farm
and a  loud roar

I am never

straw bales
I am the needle buried

find me I dare you

it is a bitter pill to swallow
a willow on my shoulder
her width is covering me
in shadow

I try to grow all tall
and better I try
to make each sunrise
day brighter

My roots grow shallow
I fight
I strive to
get nutrients

among this forest
of tall trees
suffocating me
I am but a little
****

and my father was
an oak
my mother grew her hair
long
to the ground

were
I to awake a day
to nothing abstract
to
just real life
nothing obtuse
or glorified
might the sun shine?

i would wish for me
one smile I put on one face
one day
one life touched
one heart moved
one soul saved
one wish true
one kiss sweet
one hand held
one breath
dear
until all breathe
clear.

In defiance of deducting, presuppose
an assumption arising,
proving an inference of a theory
described in peacock terms, we
decided already is a popular conclusion.

What will be discovered? Of this theory,
of magical thinking justified by grouped phenomena
that proves, what?

grey streets, unguarded,
'midst mobile home rejects
addicts, overgrown yards,
pit bulls snarling,
broken souls and windows
all ready
to take a bite outta'
your ***.

Wary of every step,
take care to take the right turns,
look strong as you shake
inside.
Wish you had a 45
in your pocket,
instead you cup
your shriveling *****
in your hand.
walk with me to our connection.
Walk home alone.

never sure the water from dribbles   pure
from ever flows might maybe iron   rust
taint the clearest water pures    with
lust with calcium with ores
until
one day the fountain stood and shined
like raindrops from the crystal sky and spoke
dear sir you are mine
and kissed my brow my mouth with dreams
and washed my feet and called my name
and  made my life all seem
crystalline
stood in mists from evermore
and took my hand in hers
and shined

the vehicle of the uberstressed perhaps
her ventricle an aorta
pumping out
pressures
has to be an outlet
Iamb that I guess
makes me smile to think
I may be
that was not lamb by the way
(Lamb) the two are  identical
this was but an  
rant turned into a discourse
on the physical properties of
a type font
I apologize i myself prefer roman
numerals
CVILI
nothing...
but a syntax error
greater values
should not follow lesser ones

it's gonna be dry one day
when it finally stops raining
down here in old Alabam'

seems to be either drought
or tsunami rain forest ****
down here these places

Outside the puddles
are taking over, the farmers
always proclaiming catastrophe.

like drug dealers, I used to know
they don't want you to realize
their prosperity

or find their two ounces stashed
buried near that peanut plant
in the field

or the fifty thousand cash

gonna go into the animal treat business.
Ever taste the **** they sell?
Tastes like PlayDoh mixed with blah!
I am gonna buy a heap of
flour and paste, the white Elmers's stuff
some forms to mix it into
the shape of a bigdog *****
I mean bone,
season it with chicken broth and mix it with Ramen noodles
hey they cheap, I have lived months on them for twenty dollars
and I know a hungry animal
would like them better than the t-bone treats I bought
that tasted like cardboard
and paper , they did look
good, though, and only a dollar?

what I needed for seven years
after I broke the mirror was
not electricity, not a word from
my kinfolks, not water or
a dry place to sleep.
Food and cigarettes were
needed but gave way if
they got in the way
of me getting high.
All I needed then was another
imagining I was getting high.
As I peeped through foil curtains
and waited impatiently when
the buzz wore off for the next hit to knock
on my door. I am surprised
now by how I ever made it here,
looking back at how I was
a total mess. How a few good people
saw me as potentially good.
I don't know how they and me made it
through.

that yellow and black butterfly
I would most assuredly
not flutter around awaiting my return
to pound my wings dance in circles
around my mere countenance

I'd more rather follow the violet
girl into the hills
and encircle her head stutter and prance
wildly aloft on the winds gentle
blow

or set sights on the red rose's open
caress in the glow of the morn'
on some meadow's green
and take chances
on wing

through a sunlit tree
touching each
limb and leaf to
gather more friends
in my brief
visiting.

really what you might call an experiment, for one thing
the hypothesis was missing and I was the control
and the  dependent variable, and by now by deduction
you see, you have delimited my experiment,
you negative naysayer you doomseeker you pessimist
the lone variable is when

"Oleanders growing outside her door
Soon they're gonna be in bloom up in Annandale"

sounds
of dawn arise
vast dark hollows

slow ebb
triumphant lights
peaks appear o'er

sun sneaks
up to an edge sights
of stirring things

awakens stretches
night sleep from their
rested limbs

songs sing
near far along
the peripheral

one different
leaf
red when others were
green
hung on a lone branch  far below the glow

in shade and obscured
this red leaf survived
until autumn
when all the other leaves
turned to her

And turned red
asked
if they could climb down
and join her.

Silent in winds breeze their
answer came as they fell
free from branches
fluttered to the ground.

This different leaf clung
and felt so sorry so alone
felt the breeze
but never belonged
and wanting to

let go of her limb
wafted down
and joined those
in destiny
now, the same color,
brown.

add a poem
I make it visible
to anyone

it's really
a possible
call out to

everyone

once I took that gamble there alone in the forest
crawling through leaves brown
was a long while ago
small in the nature of pine and seasons
smelled her tasted
all the berries and leaves
red as blood from my mother
green and wild
I envied
her evolved
and pure forms
limbs keen to
make her forests scream
her fruit
to sway
this day
a long while away
I still look up,
into the canopy of immense
sun peeking through green life
wild, free.

fool every common usage
take a word and
slip it's meaning in
her then out
a rightful gain
place a hand
down near the
verse right on again
stroke the mighty
mound until
she sings
take every scream you hear
there in ecstasy
create  an other world

sing sad thoughts
cry  cry
in soprano voice
loves lost

love passed by
breath shared with
ephemerality

looking back while
across the aisle in the grocery
awaits next to the lettuce

your next

conquest

working with a brain that evolved in caveman days
unable to parse  these urges
coded into my double helix
I find influences of meditation
in choosing passwords
for those ten million e-mail accounts
I created
forgot about
were
broken into
taken my
ssn#
my birthdate
so I got calm
thought about Nirvana
about fantasy and reality
tried to calm the
default Node network
and see clearly
that passwords when evolving were not needed
I got calmer
hmmmmmmmmmm
ing
overcoming delusions
I changed my name
to Evaporate
and my ssn# to none
and my password to
Ou812
****
I am stupid
just told all you's

I bet the sun comes up
take the points and scatter
doomsayers
it's been eons since
light years
and it goes on
coming up
every morn'
no matter
prophecies
of false prophets
predicting
us
to
predict
it always will
at least for
a few more
of my
eternities