feel wet and get swept
down mountains in currents
get all muddy in life
let others go on clean
i get down and ***** with realness
like hug a pine tree or
jump a twig like you did
when you were innocent
and caught a bug in your hands
and gave the dirt a kiss
pet
a stray dog took him home
this is life
this is loving

A dream enters
    my nightmare-
a sensual vision afire,
    lit by innocent passions.
My eyes, hers, locked desire piercing
    the loneliness,
thaws icy hearts.
    Sighs- angels breathing-
pleasures that may be
    intruding on the miseries that are.
Dreams once empty
    fill hearts once alone!

Caught between worlds, visions remain!
   A glowing golden vision that now is in the dream.
Remains!

into deja vu
  apercu into extreme
reality, meaning
  seeming so lifelike, prescient.

I have done something
   similar , before,
28 % of the time
    my origin story says.

a propos or aide-memoire
    like *** remembering
an anieu regime-
     au contraire, I say to me.
I am au courant,
     in we!

In conversations with
     my past and present,
my Indian and French,
      extremes, I see
I am au fuit,
      been pensaut
seeing, two ways,
      bon vivant,
being,
      a ****** tunes.

My sole,ear the peruser  of the
Calm of the dawn and my two
Eyes excusing the sun behind clouds
And my two legs holding me upright
Still, I paint with an easel of palm
And a canvas of grass
The pig brush in hand and a pallet
Imagination, I paint skys woundrous
New hold my senses imbued as I flash green red blue as the sky does
Into a rainbow for you.
Brave strokes wide flushes pink in my hand as the landscape unfolds
Into pure thoughts tales and untold
colors of world's that are here
You must see them with faith
And hope to be sure
And to that that is seen it's bright
Bravely colored as is but
Only in eyes that are open can all
The riches the world holds
Be envisioned
And so pardon my revisions
Reality is good
I've been told
But believe in the work
More of brain cells
Than gold

ever is times go so fast
flies I swatted come back as mosquitos
Sly grins from cashiers. I think they shortchanged me.
All the small things live
in seconds of life
that add up to
picking the exact ***** out of the millions at
the hardware store.
Or the way I try to perfect a joint
like a diamond finish in sheetrock.
Or the way I get off hearing my saw buzz
through a two by four at dusk
on three hours sleep
with a hangover.

I just had this light go off
in every brain cell I got
that as a young amorous lad
all full of it with no
other thoughts 'cept
girls and baseball
I might have come across
lustfully
or recreationally
the two )baseball and her moans( did meet,
with Susie in the back seat , in '75,
when I felt I could not hold back
long enough for her
to also reach the top of
Mount Ecstasy,
that is another story
so, several decades have passed
since grand
was
more grandiose, now
more with wisdoms
passions,
than the fertile
fumbling in a Rambler did
back when,
i think of words, and passion
more phonetically
than tactily.
And write as if
the metaphors
might bring the feeling
back.

Equality and the Golden One

Wrote with her hand
scribed a desire so  primal
inside all of us

A union formed of prose
describing an Anthem
a value, reason

without number disavowing
a collective will.
Men are free, Ayn said

In turmoil  Equality and the Golden One
found the tunnel and electricity
and began again

our struggle.

won I did i saw I came I overcame I conquered
none of the words they said the slings and arrows
had any effect
they stood in my way
I stood in defiance
walked right through
head held high
my chest out protruding
my best tough face on
walked straight through 'em

on the other side I thanked my mom and dad
for telling me so
many times how  I am equal to anyone

A nocturnal *******, I have found out
is testament to a brain strain
not a main vein malfunction.
Not a lack of virility, vitality is ingrained.
I found   out watching  late
night TV, potency    for
potency,    they said    ,scientifically
is not a wee thing, but
can be bought and will last for days
if you buy this Androzine.

Ergo; distal;
two of my proximal
favorites,
I've wanted to weave into
a write since
I thought of them-
now I just sort of lead with them,
not quite weaved, and tell me
could I?
I'm thinking on my feet
or rather my ***,
just typing, ergo
the distal part of my buttocks
aches a bit.
I want this to make sense but my fingertips
ergo the distal tips of my
appendages
are now tingling,
a bit of carpal tunnel,
I suppose. Some things just
are not supposed to be profound.
Ergo distal

there is this thing in society now that begs description
like Extra Sensory Perception it has it's roots in
mentality
the richest are getting richer
and we want to believe in a billionaire
to fix all that?
I call that Extra Sensory Deception,
but anyway I am not political,
I gave him, a chance

I enjoy the faintest touch
of my lips on your brow in the morn'
            Your angel sleeping face deserves
to know how I creep out tiptoe
              on my way to work
remembering in all my fiber
          all energized
last night, and the night before,
           and every moment since we met
nights and mornings
         and every
gentle kiss.

even in these times of Armeggedon
the sky is falling
end of days prophecies
I aspire to
seeing everyone's ear glued to a phone
electronic coming of age wired humans
three years old
gots  cell phones I podPads google
better than I walk
http: ?/youngs/.what?
they know
maybe life's gonna be a combo of
Electronics and wired brains and 3D
everything
still
we gonna have to deal with all

these hurricanes
and shootings
lord
I gonna start hanging out with republicans who
support gun-rights
just to feel safe
in a crowd

found she had broken in
was naked but for my dress shirt
unbuttoned but covering her shoulders
on my bed
reading  my copy of Dostoevsky

I had the NY Times in my hand
the cigarette burnt down
my finger like a
reminder to wake up
let it burn

pain had left my being
blonde and sweet , not the blonde of Marilyn
Bridgette but the sanctified
sweet of Faye Dunaway , smoke lingered

wafted tobacco and burnt flesh simmering
told her, anytime, didn't expect this,
she paid me  no attention acted
or read like she was engrossed

in the greatest thoughts of social reform
or the realisms of crime and punishments
maybe debating socialism and capitalism
there naked in my shirt

taking the novelists cue I undressed
laid down acting casual worldly when
she asked me the oddest  question
you like  Dostoevsky

we debated the rest of the day week
night dark and days bright
she left such a sweet scent
on my shirt

the window she busted has never
been fixed

it makes a diamond a bauble
gold a metal  heavy
silver a shiny insignificance
pearls a nice sea thing
mountains climbable
the deepest valley
shallow
it makes temples another house
symbols unreadable
tomorrow livable
today ethereal
yesterday memorable
others invisible
her touch her kiss
the import
like salt used to be
more valuable than all the jewels
all the oil
all the wisdom of any three
she is my fountain
of youth
eternally

I would like to think we were here
before the moon
before any dinosaur
before the sun glowed
laying together
in the open resonance
of space and time
and our souls when the earth
spun around and the sun shone down
were but a place for us
to spend a moment in flesh
for a time
a second to hold on to
for the rest
of eternity

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

the closest friends the
lovers in spring
when summer comes
or fall or winter
grow apart and make
new limbs new routes
new lives new things
it is part of life
that the fruits
get scattered far and wide
like love does and friends and
acquaintances
become lost to touch
but not
remembrance

Red rose cheeks
As the night approaches.
The moon prepares the stellar
Table for the feast as her lover
Sun retires after his
long day's work.
And high into the night
Her glow
Watches his keep
With anticipation.
The hours are infinite
As the world turns
Below.
Her patience spins around
The globe.
she gathers
Lovers souls to
Be immortalized
In eternity
Place them in the sky
Like diamond rings.
She knows how it
Feels to love,
But,
Be so far, so far
out of
Reach.

I've heard that when people  go mad
they  cry and scream and tear **** up
I 've been wondering
if maybe I am too mad to do all that
I just sit staring burning my fingers
on butts
at the flies on my ceiling
even they
are scared of me

Feel I do
Feel like a serial killer at times
Fingers of mine tensing
Carotid arteries of an analogy
Squeezing warmth out of dead bodies
Of psalms into
Saying a prayer
Even though I'm agnostic
In case
And drastically overstating my case
Tasking a metaphor to
Gasping last breath blue
On the edge of a cliff
Just push over
The blood of the simile
Dripping
The flesh
rotting dead on a rock
The dangling dread
circles above
Overhead like
Vultures
I do

one pebble a stone
one thought I thought
looking at it  as I picked it up
saw it's surface polished
by years of rain
felt so good in my hand
smooth as a thigh
her cheek
thought of her
her my rock hard love
wish I could find again
along this path
this pebble strewn
grass forgotten
worn out
to the creek to throw a pebble in
path I tread
evermore

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

top of the heap
you are King
and along comes someone to show you a thing
a new way of doing what you have done for years

at first, you judge him by his looks, only,
his long hair his ragged jeans
his sandals and ***** feet
his passivity his long beard

and he looks preoccupied
taken away by drugs or drink
his mind blown by crack
**** or LSD

he seems to hover so slow so deeply
occupied in a world he made for
himself burnt out we
used to call it

then when the day is over and you look
closer at the results and not the
scruffy exterior
you see he outdid you

and you have been the
King for thirty years
knew it all
you thought you were sure

and here this man rides in
on a stinking mule
in sandals looking like
a beggar

and changes every ******* thing?

with every time I look
at the clock
face,
I miss yours , more.

in every poem no matter
how beautiful
blank spaces
exist

if, I did, one second late
or one week prematurely
come, where in history?
Today or tomorrow
ever atone
for my lack of
emphatic self, will
I ever find the time
to right the wrongs
when I am too busy
beeing me?
Buzzing away flitting
here then there yes
every day everywhere?

she is so cute and funny and resolute
I like her wrinkles her pooch
her smile her frown her absolute

Her mean look trying
to change my bad self
her scolding me

of how my hair is so wild
and I might have glanced
at that cute girl's ***

or how she likes green things
me, a bit more preference
towards

powdery substances
but then she
does seem to support

me mentally when
all the clouds blacken
the

worst **** falls down around me
how
I ask you

could she not be a saint?
How might I not love her
more

with every ******* day?

every now and then
    seasons run together
the sun comes up just when it is setting
     and it all seems to get better.

Once in life it comes
    breakfast served just as lunch
is done, all are so sated
    and it all comes together.

Every once in life
     the reasons are related known
and it all becomes so
       vividly correlated.

Ever when came once
On the whispers
Of a chanced
Breeze dancing through
The tall limbs of
Old trees standing
Proud as monuments
On a hill
I chanced
One day rising on
A hill alone
After brushing bare legs
Through tall prairie
Grasses long
Way then was the
Tops of oaks maples growth
That existed before my
Conception in a way
Meant to grow
Awaiting to convince me
Of the awe fraught with
Discovering
Every step taken
Can be

mornings faster than were seemed  a night before
as seasons are and years
my mind eclipsed and crucified with human times
senses seem
farther removed more down
less low in the groin now
fog mass retained longer into the  hours each day
cataracts and wispy visions
transposed with long lost memories
I suppose time has its purpose  
to slowly decompose

get up get down all the millions who
are gonna go around
this

get high get higher than
in charge of foolish
realms

everything
is timeless

a leaf

I thunk or did or said or thought or knew is
in the middle of a guitar string chord plucked
with a background rich of bass drum
the ****** of a cymbal the beautiful
voice of a beautiful band where beautiful
girls dance sensually writhing in tune  to
my heart throbbing a voice singing
as no instrument ever can
trembling my
everything
crying
samba
me

Again the moonlights company
4 am. She's somewhere.
About the skies glow
Stars flicker eyes turn
Search seek
A lone northern light
A light show
I gaze up to search for
And she's there I turn. My
Sight looks beyond now
Beyond my dim sight
Farther than I can reach
And I hope.
I remember
I close my eyes
And see.
But
For tonight
Her memory
And the moon
Light glow northerly
And a star's
Twinkle
And all my might
Are all I can see.
She is everywhere
But here

my baby....
expectant seeds of memory
truths do surge in unanticipated but ******
flows

surge and bring thee closer;
into my realm; devolve mysteries
resolve the unsolved; evoke and revoke my stain... my misery.

Be my home:  I as I am stand proud-
as your knight-
and you my Queen.

oh my baby
expectant seeds of memory
and truth do surge in unanticipated but ******
flows

surge and bring thee closer;
no, into my realm; devolve mysteries
resolve the unsolved, evoke and revoke my stain, my misery

be my home: forlorn as i am I stand proud
as your knight
and you my Queen.

Examine your  mind
forsake the chemical imbalance
let the wild mind inspire
enjoy
the release from desire
accept all of who you are
and direct it
know and understand obsession
let imagination
take over
let the whole world come through
and chew
on it
feel really felt
live the present
focus on what
is really
real
give yourself vitality
and if grits are served for
breakfast
chew
chew
chew.

idealistic,I smile to be deluded
by realism as the windmill slaps my ***
again, romantic chivalry my duty
saving damsels righting wrongs

In La Mancha in the archives my story
resides , and i have not been sleeping much,
reading causing my brain to dry , as a result
excuse my being quick to anger,

whenever I feel Dulcinea is in danger.

and, it has been many an innkeeper
who has knighted me
and many a beating I have taken
left in the gutter

as the priest decides which of my
books to burn in an effort to dull
my ardor, ferocious giants loom
disparaging my squire

calling him unintelligent
and greedy, to them I shall draw
my sword, to the death

To my squire's defense, I ride!!
Sancho will be governor, and my

Dulcinea is crying.

I farted again
I don't know why
but it happens when I walk
I try to squeeze my *** cheeks together
and stifle it
it's old age
pending is no longer it
it's here
ripe and yellow foggy
smells like ****
sounds like a train whistle at times
Toot-Toot

Thish-yer Smiley had a mare the boys called her the fifteen- minute nag, but that was only in fun, you know, because, of course, she was faster than that and he used to win money on that horse, for all she was so slow and always had the asthma, or the distemper, or the consumption, or something of that kind. They used to give her two or three hundred yards start, and then pass her under way; but always at the ***-end of the race she'd get excited and desperate- like, and come cavorting and straddling up, and scattering her legs around limber, sometimes in the air, and sometimes out to one side amongst the fences, and kicking up m-o-r-e dust, and raising m-o-r-e racket with her coughing and sneezing and blowing her nose and always fetch up at the stand just about a neck ahead, as near as you could cipher it down.


Mark Twain

Well, thish-yer Smiley had rat-tarriers, and chicken *****, and tom- cats, and all of them kind of things, till you couldn't rest, and you couldn't fetch nothing for him to bet on but he'd match you. He ketched a frog one day, and took him home, and said he cal'klated to edercate him; and so he never done nothing for three months but set in his back yard and learn that frog to jump. And you bet you he did learn him, too. He'd give him a little punch behind, and the next minute you'd see that frog whirling in the air like a doughnut see him turn one summerset, or may be a couple, if he got a good start, and come down flat-footed and all right, like a cat. He got him up so in the matter of catching flies, and kept him in practice so constant, that he'd nail a fly every time as far as he could see him. Smiley said all a frog wanted was education, and he could do most any thing and I believe him. Why, I've seen him set Dan'l Webster down here on this floor Dan'l Webster was the name of the frog and sing out, "Flies, Dan'l, flies!" and quicker'n you could wink, he'd spring straight up, and snake a fly off'n the counter there, and flop down on the floor again as solid as a gob of mud, and fall to scratching the side of his head with his hind foot as indifferent as if he hadn't no idea he'd been doin' any more'n any frog might do. You never see a frog so modest and straightforward as he was, for all he was so gifted. And when it come to fair and square jumping on a dead level, he could get over more ground at one straddle than any animal of his breed you ever see. Jumping on a dead level was his strong suit, you understand; and when it come to that, Smiley would ante up money on him as long as he had a red. Smiley was monstrous proud of his frog, and well he might be, for fellers that had traveled and been everywheres, all said he laid over any frog that ever they see.


Mark Twain

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

Fornever howl amongstest darkless how that makes one grasp
Upsides down when down has been a view for too long when
Reconizating it in anothers view
Let's say their red ****** swooled
Eggs aside
A grizzly nose a burbank chin a long since washed smell
How that makes a view
Of septic wonder realitating
Obfuckscuating
The governed publicity *******
On a hot day June year unknown middle of somewhere wishing it were Woodstock again hearing echoes of

God only knows these kinds of sink swim knee on neck sarcasm and violence lying loudly from every space time capsule
As

They walk wildly
Around
Lactating drooled ******* genetic mutants
Robots

I'll just take a hit
Now
Thanks

Sit here

It's only six-twenty three
it seems way later
like at least six-twenty four

I was still young
it's like I have aged ten years
the past two

time is relative
Einstein mathematically
proposed

but I am beginning
to wonder these times
might they be

exponential?

forsaking expressions of
                      love
there when we rejoiced
                      above
highest higher clouds
                      sounds
of harmonic rejoicing
                       found
acceptance bright darkness
                         around
full bodied forsaken
                           reasons
not causing words
                             or memory
not calling on yesterdays
                            unsound
reasoning or colors our palettes
                             round
about full of peaceful yellow
                             ground
a white mystique an authentic
                                 found
new way.

a special dispensation a secret trust
funded by a fairy crack mother
on her last bust she netted a whole
family of worthy *******
down on their luck for me to say hello to
aide as I could,
I get a rush
like today
I saw a guy had been hanging out downtown,
with a military duffle bag
for two days , looked bad off, same clothes,
so I got hungry
headed off to Mcd's and thought of him there
on that corner,
I bought four egg mcmuffins and two hot coffees
came back and he was gone,
no telling where he went, I felt bad my
special dispensation had gone for naught.
My cats and dog sure liked  
the extras given them.

what shadows or comparing values
or recompensing can a blind man use
to touch his one love with ,
I understand,  a bit,
in every eye closed kiss

there goes time immemorable
in suns and moons treasured
in lives measured by men's days
and woman nights
in dusk's inevitable
colors clearly grey
the balances and weights
sway to and fro and in between
the horizons and present days
eyelashes breath away

the heart of eyes in the hands of shyness
like a smile of radiance of a smile forever
breathe rainy dreams believing dreaming
the brightest loves lazy doves fluttering
mean what is broken in shudders of spoken
meant words and promises, down in the woods
all alone, together.

That is within and about the eyes
This thing we seek the tear
The sight of one love the pure
All gaze over long lashes
That twinkle thus sparkled
In memories fondness
That thus men spend fortunes
Discovering women stand
Long days searching horizons
Child-like innocence
Depth and heart yes
Heart resides there
One blink told me
Then

once my eyes close and my breath levels
focus lost and the mind takes over
in that rest that peace that respite from daily ****
turmoil and hate expectations and turmoils
becomes a place where dreams are focused
on calming that inner doubt that hard
demand of other's judgements
that Eden like apple and a field of dreams
collide make
me whole again
and I wake , if I ever do , from Heaven again,
and try to get through
a day again,
until my eyes can close
once again.