Ripped
crumpled sheet of paper tossed to the floor
remnants of writing...
yet to be completed

clues
everywhere...

lipstick smudges halfway up the page
a Kiss Given
for the Hot footprint of Life.
This ones for Desire.

Rage.... Red and Heavenly
like the eggs of an unborn salmon,
Translucent  Illumination
ready to be swaddled in  its own afterbirth,

No rocks in site to hide them under.
Heavy in their fullness

Drama of life and death.

Wisdoms Great Suffering knowledge
It will all come to an end
and mean nothing anyway

Such is the husbandry  of the Stars.

and yet they remain Lovely...
Twinkling Visions of God-ness.
Wonder Crystallized.
Life Immortal.

And So It Is

Pay homage to this living creature of Earth , invested in fluid color and wonderment , not with controlling name but with delight for natural miracles , translucent afternoons at every turn , original music wrote on kaleidoscopic springtide banter from ones heart , whimsically highlighted with Tangerine treetops , subtle thoughts of an eager , ever learning child , hillside liquid sunshine bringing tall grass to it's crimson conclusion  ,  For these I would wholeheartedly take notice , 'Tis Sylvan artistry and song that forever beg my quickened approach

It was a restless night denuded of sleep
So since it was warm and windless
I hit the streets

Walking under ancient oaks draped in Spanish moss
My path inevitably led to where
Everything was at a complete loss

Crescent Moon Memorial Cemetery
For the dead
Where all lie below earthly care
Was where my feet had somehow led

Row upon row of forgotten names
In all of their endeavors
Have been eased of their earthly pains

And now as I trudged by at a quarter to three
A low chorus and chords of music
Through the mists came floating to me

It startled and intrigued
What now is this ?
So I had to go see for myself
And I silently crept to where came the origins of bliss

In a circle of bench seats and monument stones
The strangest thing I saw , that of the unborn
Ghosts and skeletons playing with bones and singing in moans

A see through piano , trombone , bass , saxophone and a silver cornet
And one wailing guitar completed the set

On the translucent petal bass drum
Was the name of the ethereal band
And to a catchy tune I began to hum

Crescent Moon Memorial Buried Blues Band
The epitaph on the vaporous drum stated
And I soon found myself a loyal fan

What seem like a lifetime they continued to play
Quaint rthyms and lyrics now made my day . . . and night !
As the sounds drifted across the river out onto the bay

But far off I heard the mornings ****'s call
Then phiff . . . vanished all into the fog
Not a trace as if covered by an invisible pall

And then a ray caught the gleam in my eye
And I knew that when the time comes
Here's where I want to be placed after I die

Dust flowers up from the Chilton County dusk
Rust is flaking off the pickup that has a skunk musk

Bullet , the blue tick hound from your sleeve pulls it
Could it be another hot day in August , would it ?

Peaches have last month gone to fill the niches
Beaches at the river are low , full of leeches

Summertime in Alabama is a long ******
Funnier than that song , swing low number

Gathering distant dark blue clouds that are a mattering
Battering thunder rolling , lightning shattering

Huge drops splattering on clay so Rouge
Deluge now soaking , coming down like a luge

Passing with one loud Crack blasting
Massing clouds now are just in a fasting

Powerful Oaks nurture glistening orbs , curtain call of the Muses ,  prequel of effervescent , diurnal joy amongst their brethren with abundant ****** melodies ! The Angels of Harmony , melodist of Zion , proclaim from the East ! The woodland duet , song of Brown Thrasher and Chickadee , the acoustical miracles of the Heavenly host , brilliant a cappella voices with thunderous volume , first chair instrumentalist within the symphony of Dawn