Such madness sought for reasons
Old the stories heard
At mother's knee once
A kind of breed the songstress
Sings once told
Oh sadness longs to be brought
Forth be strung on chords
Echoes from the mountain tops
Once inspected felt the dreams
Try to break through reality
Cause men to bow
And women weep
For what end
We do not know
Just feelings come
And will not go
Till sung
Wrote or spoken
Well
Crazy is another
Realm

Seducing
         making
                     love
paralyzing
         hope
                    reality
genetically
          pre
                    disposed
as a candle
          waves
                    in a breeze
trees sway
          back
                    and forth
grass
          greens
                    in rains
tears
         fall
                    in pain
days
         run
                    together
haste
        denies
                    today
sneakily
        at the portions
                    of reality
where a soul
is
  created.

original sin the worst of it
to be the creator I would die

to be the one credited with
pain and suffering

amused confused befuddled bemused
by

all the trying
to figure out.

I create nothing-
Sublime has always been-
I am an arranger-
        the creators seeks originality.

\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?

What may it be? A critic or mass or both sown together
within a sphere explosives around threatening?

An angry oceans of heavy neutrons imploding, or, tell me,
is it the amount of money for the majority
to nuke the minorities from here to eternity?

Is, critical, for now, (I am densely packed), a moral majority erupting to take all of our freedoms?
Is  Uranium or Plutonium being sold ;
by my drug dealer?

I mainlined something. Saw a trillion explosive stars,
or was that just you,
walking into the room?

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.

Cross creek crooked
flows
"tween **** dead bluish growths
above
because
seeing just the shimmer
of the bottom
of the river
a murky bed bottom-fed
sun shine flicker
ripples trickles seeking levels
seeds fed with moisture may
cause
roots to grow
unbeknownst
to the majestic.

In a crowd of stars you are
I trod an earthly path
and only seek the wings
to fly with to enjoin
the heavens that you sing!

wearied though I am
Mysterious you soar
your grace above my head
beautiful the airs
of bountiful encores

my quest yet unfulfilled
amongst the heaven's best
where now you reside
above my air
grace in heaven's skies.

cruel
     confusing
rude
   how the clouds
remained
         beautiful,
how
          the ***** of a world
kept turning tricks;

How the sun
     so dreadfully
seemed to keep
         interrupting
my dread,

But,
         I kept on crying!
covering my head,
          in shame
of a promise
          not kept.

in the darkened hall the barefoot man
stood afraid of stubbing toes and tripping up
afraid to make himself the fool
the stumbling bumbling imbecile
his weight of fear took up more of him
that time stood still
and this day he stands in bronze
a monument to fear
a statue now stands etched in time
along side a stale crumb
of bread

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

from here the forest grows
upon the shoulder of Mother herself,
drips tears
tangy drops of
where
sweet  saps of evergreens
lichen takes a mossy sip
lakes full of
whorls of drops
fall down every cheek
might every tree or urchin
drown?
There in yesterdays
full grown tomorrows,
leaks
through to those who need.
Fronds delight in
completely
the tears
roses bloom, so
I cry, passionate.

when I turn my head and look at things
sideways
Consider the edge of light and dark
mathmatically an asymptote approaching
infinity vis a vis the starlight
I see on a clear night, so real and clearly now,
is the past, actually, someday when it crossed
milions of light years,
to be in my telescope,
The closest I can be to now,
is a memory when I percept it.
On a daylight, I think might,
my real no matter how fast or hard I try to
be in it,
is a past forever.

let's cry together shy
for all the souls who are
gonna die
not knowing
the beauty of the forest glen
the fair shine of an evening sun
the smoke of fire
the mountains shoulder
the sea's vapor or
a young deer wild
loose upon the prairie
a goat baying
a horse gallop between their thighs
a river cold wash
their cares
away
the lover's paradise
that joy of a child that comes
when they look at you like god hisself
a new day unfolding
where dread or misdeed
gets put away in bright yellow
praise for
this is just another day
dead have seen as much
poets have felt
stroked
the felt of that fur
called forth to the God's the Earth's majesty
so much better
yet
it is until
I die when
I will shut up
and quit trying
to capture
this life
as well
as enjoy
it
in the meantime
let us
cry together

ok, to be serious for just a minute,
is to cook anywhere defined as microwave
science? Is boiling water and adding Ramen noodles
and putting the spice thing in , after opening it, haha,
I knew what you thought there,  the beginnings of a bachelor chef,
or must I learn all the de rigour
of nutritional knowledge and buy a garlic press
along with those eight dollar fry pans
at Dollar General?
Just wondering.

if any musician can
in his hands I die
go to heaven gratefully

fair the view of me . You.
Innocent,
like young squirrels,
crossing the road getting
Squashed.
Birds all from their nests,
not a lot of them fly.
Nature is pretty
brutal in her ways, but fair,
to feed the hawk or coyote
the rabbit is good nourishment.
And we think
cute
is an owl so beautiful.

imposed by DNA
by nature striving to
reproduce full frontal ******
scenes with wolves
killing baby deer

harmony with brutal
forces driving tsunami
waves in shores onto bathers unprepared
schemes of hawks  
killing doves

distrust the self
for the next breath
if snatched away cannot be recovered
look wise sideways
out of the corner
of eyes

always, procreate into
believing its all meaning
something, DNA winds into
helical coils as do typhoons,
as does the cynical
idealism

It is
        a beat
a cry
        a rhyme
of course
        goes on
or not
        a pulse
in bred
        mom dad
give us
        a sense
da da

at times the world
that runs on tracks
around the bed
of iron nails
clicking clack
deaf  to what it crushes
not looking back
charging forward
steaming blind
towards where ever
the tracks run out

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 leaves 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;

there one storm
a day of falling grey
skies fell like glass shards
on me
here in Eden,
the window blowing free with rain sleet
I grabbed and ran my soaken papers
into a closet with one apple.
I felt I might need to
start an Ark building, the furious nature barking wild
I cried alone fearful in misery
when
yesterday was so calm and  hope filled my worlds.
I wound myself into a ball, a womb I sought,
I scribbled a little word
in the notebook, just before the storm broke the glass from heaven melted the black clouds parted.
It was ******.

****, she didn't notice
again
I got salve for her
sore throat
but she left rasping
the door shuts and the moon outside eclipses
my needs
gotta go to
the latrine
and ****

you were so deep at times I envied and
hated even as we made love in the pecan grove
as the twisted old limbs grew above
our green land

I read your bodies words with  soft hands
waited for you to  to climb up in ecstasy
to meet me there in zen and heaven's
lost last Eden and our discovery

became my quest my destiny
my goal , my breath, my whole
only to look up  one day
to see the  depth of your soul

fly away like an apostle or angel
and your wings caught my heart
lifted my breath away my soul
into the forest where dreams are.

we flirted in the biblical
senses
quite properly
Victorian
had that dance
in the middle of the
party her
days at learning proper prose
became a flaming tempest
as we snuck out past the veranda
not even thinking about
anything but dancing long on the moon's
silent song or the leaves memory
so long we floated
above the stars the sky clouds
her hoop skirts
crinolines corsets
chemise
had long fallen to her knees
into my arms she rushed
we sailed upon the whispering breeze
like  floating paper lanterns glowing
tied together never landing
made the way to
Heaven real, absorbed resolved died cucified we
gathered ourselves together
and I swear ,
though I think of her almost
nightly
and she haunts me ,
I have not seen her since.
I went on to marry some
rich matriarch.

Is it
2021 yet?

connections filamentary tendrilled
spiderey web tied to umbilical cords
never severed, snot faced dripping back of hand wiping
sniffing, ***** training failures/
can't find me mouth eating habits and a bunch of whining;
like time goes
in a circle, or a series of concentric circles
once expanding
now contracting
back to where futures bounty is unknown
and unexpected, diapers and caretakers
slobbering and gibberish,
**** how soon it happens.
We seem to grow back to where we came.

he started the banjo man did plinkin'
amid the heavy drag of a slow cool
bass harmony strung out on a long low note,
it sounded like nails on a chalkboard at first
or a cat in heat mewing loud in the alley
and crescendoed into a full blown
attack on my sanity my notions
as he plunked away and chorded a falsetto guitar note
like eric clapton playing a ukelele
drugged out the clanking E
called out a G
then faster he took me as the bass fought to accompany
along an a fast tweedling dee
and a C that cried liked birds
and the blues fans applauded the folk singers sat agape the rock singers sang Hallejuah
and the minstrels swayed
so many fast
f'ing F's  G's B's flats and concordances
it was like a thousand harps from heaven turned loose in fast forward
and I ****** him
**** banjo man
that was good

**** what a dangerous proposition giving a
devout atheist
six Olde English forties
on an empty stomach
and the place where he can
say almost anything
like un-freedom
pre-religiosity
dead in judgment you never will
hear the end to me
daylight sparkling and the young
innocents who are around
hear my prayers
so sorry
Saturday should be a school day
so it is your fault
how I sentiently
ask how can a body be resurrected
when dust to dust and justice
is unrelenting only the sun and sky
eternal no need to reconcile
the fallen angel who turned bad
being a cosmic ethical supposer
involves having a moral edge
while my bay like chants make your skin crawl
and the sky boil up
there is no proof
to prove a negative
pray the Father
intervenes

is drug use, obsession with chemicals to
make you feel alive, depending
on a hit to feel better, wrapping
every waking minute around obtaining them

Dangerous is this, desire with metrical
counts internet hits, surrounding
yourself with those who feel likewise,
every finger typing non-stop hymns

Realizing your audience waned one night,
goodness is getting more  plusses or hearts,
forgetting to eat anything but words
making me us them unintentionally

victims of the same chemical imbalances
I have noticed in Crack heads, **** heads
speed freaks , addicts of all kinds.

So if you see anything worthy or
turned an eye inward, don't plus this
get outside now to fresh air
share a walk with a friend,
or pet a dog.

Or find your local
chapter of Poets Anonymous.

a knot
a catch
a thread around
you
dangling
floundering
breathe halting
did
I ever
tell you
I
loved you,
so,
how did
it ever get
so bad?
Fell
from the chair
to never
say again,
I love you, too.
Oh God,
why?

ever follow the sprinkled bright spots of sun through
a path in a freckled forest? How the leaves in
the wind bend at their stems and look flapping?
How wither we go our ways with blood
and sap our very sameness.
Transpire the leaves give us our breath and
we give to them the green majesty
breaths back.
Ever saw a sunrise overcome a cloud and race through the sky
beating down the long away covering, like she Sol,
knows there are worshippers
on earth:
a small animal I followed once through a woods
and saw it continuously look up
around wriggle its ears.
And sniff.
I might as well have
looked in the mirror.

vagrant in black corners creep
complaining with darkest meaning
remembering the border  of commonness
or forgetting

she spins does life
the web we get so caught up in
wove into corners and kept for another day

complex as dark yes
no a minute to think
the spinnerets go on weaving

complex webs

To the horizon hides the dusk, sunrise Easternly brazen surmounts
a squirrel scurrying limbs, the atmosphere laughs at the grass dewy,
disappearing  night critters hurry to hide down holes,
in day light tombs-whilst
heart shaped leaves warm,
the loam refreshed,
by the newly birthed
morn.

It seems
All things
Begin and end
As daydream
Forms
A torn
Piece of a
Skirt left
one broken
Shard of
Colored glass
A folder
With only
One match
Left
The torn
And tat-
tered....
scattered
Bout as
Remnant frames
In
Scrapbooks
Loose
Granite forms
In memoriam
Fragile and mortal
When true
Love Is
No more

some days
  I pray for silence
some days
  for anything to
break it

There are days
  I don't pray
There are days
   that is all
I do

When I pray
  I am ashamed
to admit
   is when I
am weakest

Ok.
I admit I've  stolen hearts,
Plagiarized Shakespeare
To get my way into a day
I might hold her tight
Used words that Poe also wrote
or themes that Emily thought of
in loneliness
or was that Thoreau?
A crook a ne'er did well
a thief a stealer of words
Ignoble. And i grin because
I know
deep down inside,we all
Compose
With the meter words the sounds
Of dead poets
Echoing
in our minds
Somewhere

And, were any work unique,  ever.
Or are we all
Just thiefs, and
Crooks

Missing
are the words
to properly send forth
into the beyond,  the abyss,
The netherworld , your soul,
Sweetness,
Be they lost or never thought
of,  absent from the tableau,
any kind remiss,
which mortal souls,
besides the Bard,
have no words for,
are what
I wished to write down,
as your fitting
Eulogy.
But
I have not words
For.
Lie in peace.
Dear.

I love you.

and neighbors near this Saturday
I apologize before it occurs
I am gonna get wasted
turn my music way up
and  dream

How has the inevitable
Changes in the atmosphere
Affected you, my dear?
Did you watch in frozen fear
As the loud mortars crashed so near
Or think insanity has won the day,  give up the fight and fade away?
Or has the barometer of your opinion
became a beacon for touching time
Like sages of another rhyme when,
Known became a wing of air,
A tree limb on a barren oak,
A slowly cascading mountain peak, the haze of foggy bitter tears?
There once came by the now dry creek
A beauty lass with a smiling cheek
A breath of fresh a curl of new a hope to all who viewed her innocence
rare for years we thought her there.
But that must have been a smile thought just a scent of remembrance there one called her name in somnolence, and it echoes still,
her  name was whispered meaningful,
A heart, a tear,
A sentiment

another straw  another paw
one more foot deeper I will
have it dug
another day
can I just pay
you death
a diamond
or my last two cents
buy you another
round
the green
absinthe
a shot
of the best
wait look
upon that
even that could
make a dead man
***
I will set you up
if you just
wait ten minutes,
to swing that scythe
I have to ***,
talk her up,
tell her the truth ,
for once,
I am gonna die,
see how it goes,
then you can
take me away

then we die death stands at the end
for everthing all
ten walls high no going around
over nor under
no wealth stops
no tunnel under
we face it
eventually
I am scared
not of my death
but losing those I care for
to that eventuality
so I run

fast and hard and one day
it will catch up to me

drawing nigh near emptying
the well, sometimes I feel
like lying

saying hi fear come nearer
my soul, sometimes
I do

making truth abstracting
feel, like I am dying

with chattering teeth
my whole, at times
shivers

my mind fabricating
a soul, everlasting

Able to approach most any subject,
Abject or object
With cursory concerns,
Taking them as they come
Or they go,
The detail we all face and
Where do we go,
Seems to be almost
Caught in my throat.
As with each year that passes
The inevitable becomes
Nearer and my choices
Clearer but my convictions,
A bit more dull.
I sometimes wish for a warning, sort of a message of
My time is up,
Then say, no,
Make it quick, just turn
The lights out.
But, I'm guessing I have
No choice.
I'd like to die with a
Smile and a hard-on,
Or watching the love of my life's
Eyes glisten.
I want to be able to take humor
To the next level.
And turn over,
On the autopsy table
Giving the medical examiner
A good scare.
Or sit up in the casket and high five the crowd during my
Funeral.
Or expel air, just when they lower me into the ground.
So they winch
Me back up.
I'm guessing,
I won't do any of that.

Autumnal equinox of a long season standing raw sun
Sweating drips become ripe
As the bottoms of watermelons do
Lying ripening swelling
Swaying feel the stem
Tighten become draught
I turn
Sway in the lengthening
Days
Like an old woman
On a wooden porch
A Hand fan and a flowered dress
In an old oak rocker
Lean
To one side
Redden
Brown Crispen
Brittle brittly
Spin in one
Great fall
Off
Down I spin now
Now alone fall
Fall to earth
Dissolve
And how else
Should life
Be

within the neurotic neurons those still left
in my ****** up head
perhaps so far down the dumb ones stand atop them and muffle their reasoning
or the ones watching Big Bang every night
drinking Olde English 800
are holding the responsible synapses hostages
for a hit of dope
or trying to find a stash of endorphins
at gunpoint
,but buried deep deep downer in
near the base of my brain,one neuron is waiting for the right
moment to flee....
to gain power over all the broken, needy  ones thinking
starving for chemicals or a quick high
morphine addicted lortab alcohol
******* amphetamine caffeine nicotine
ine
to be ruler,
then I will write a good poem.

about it,
I get
so affected when
brought up,

my doc prescribed
something
worse when
i got on it,

my eyes see
everything
in cross eyed projections,
I don't see,

how tomorrow
or yesterday
will ever be, subjective
I am me.