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Apr 2018 · 377
rapture
red Sun burns the oceans
beaches left barron
save for bleached bones
of fish large and small
unable to swim deep

when the last of electricity fails
when the water is gone
we all burn in the fireless rapture
Mother has spoken
she has cleared her vines
of withered fruit

the last breath
echoes across the scorched
hauntingly void landscape
the rainclouds move in
oldie
Apr 2018 · 409
pray
In the absense of hope
and the onset of hopelessness
we seek intervention
in the form of divinity or
our forefathers

watching us pander away
our lives and our souls...
but are we worthy to be saved
given another chance?
will a chosen few be spared
those that have held some shred
of the human genome?

the black knight watches us
reporting to God or to those that
brought us here
on our digression

if Paradise is to survive
the cleansing is inevitable
pray
oldie...slightly revised
Apr 2018 · 373
I have found her
I have found her
within the chaos
within the dense, saturated cover of the human malady
she fell to me
when I had feared that the connection was lost
emotion that fires straight to what is left of our souls

funny how truth can be so clear in love
yet so distant, so muddled in life

I have found her
and she has found my heart
still beating,
my dreams
to be awakened
my hopes to be fulfilled
when carried
into the fray
oldie - revised
Apr 2018 · 606
gold dust
I believe that fire was still a mystery
when the hunt was interrupted by the visitors
knowing that the creatures were startled by their presence
these visitors could passively drop the gold dust
into the creek from which they drank
and as expected, the dumbfounded four
with mouths agape
watched in disbelief without twitching a muscle
though it is not ascertained
that disbelief was a function of the thought
process that they were at this time
capable

it was not lost on these creatures
however,
our forefathers
that these odd newcomers were far superior
than the mastodon they were tracking with rocks

the 3 visitors gave a glance to their soon-to-be hybrid offspring
and were off
the ability to convey their experience when they returned to their caves
fell futile
there were as yet no grunts to properly describe what they had witnessed

the DNA structure leading to the ceiling
of the evolutionary scale was no longer a towering, folding beast
but rather a mere stepladder
fire was discovered
tools, arrows, weaponry
and monuments that we have yet to explain how
were constructed
while the last true human
but a young child when the visitors came
who had observed from afar
drank only from a pond that they had not touched

he passed like a story from the ancients
forgotten in time
Oldie - revised
Apr 2018 · 626
the announcement
it just appeared on the tv screen
like black bold letters on a computer
set at the largest font
there
between the two chatting faces
sitting at the table in a restaurant
upon the white wall
TOM


it just appeared
my name
and then faded away
the faces kept chatting
as I slapped myself
hoping to find that I was dreaming
but I was not
I was awake
someone had just sent me a message
a message that they were here
I could not move for several minutes
my heart raced and a cold wave
cut through me like winter wind
through a cheap coat
 
the shadows danced in a different manner
the chill I felt could not be subdued with blankets
the cracking walls and creeking floors were now alive
on this night
in this house
the haunting had begun
oldie - absolutely true story
Apr 2018 · 721
How I met The Beatles
It's a long and winding road to get to that answer. Some friends and I had come together because we each had a free ticket to ride the roller coaster 'Across the Universe' at the new theme park 'Helter Skelter' which had just opened on my birthday. The 4 of us...Jonathan the Tax man, Richard the Egg man, Paula the Meter Maid and Georgette... (well, she does something) had just come out of the 'Magical Mystery Tour' where you take a virtual ride around the entire park in a yellow submarine, and gotten in line for the roller coaster. Who should get in line right behind us but The Beatles. They were in disguise, but the accents gave them away...not to anyone else, just us. Paula whispered to George 'Closer...let me whisper in your ear' and she let him know that we knew. To make a long story short, we spent a day in the life of The Beatles. I offered to let them drive my car to their hotel, but they said they were waiting for the van to come and take them to see a guy named Ed. We spent 10 minutes telling them how great our day was when John finally shouted; 'LOOK, you say hello and we'll say goodbye'
...and in the end it was a day to remember.
When I'm 64, I'll still remember like it was yesterday!
oldie - not really a poem...but
Mar 2018 · 371
the wave
I'm older now
the background on the canvas
that is my life
is being filled in
a light blue
broad strokes
I love to watch the ocean
the wave moves constant
through bitter storm
and silent calm
until it ends
upon the shore
for me to witness
Ah...the great mystery
what all of mankind desperately
ultimately
and unknowingly seek
the contented soul
Oldie
Mar 2018 · 569
loyal to the light
suddenly the tide has turned
the mystic rhythm I had learned
is flailing like a bird at sea
the shores are distant
I am lost in me

the wind is  howling like a lonely dog
they make their way through the mountain fog
fallen creatures claim their place
collecting loyals for the master race

I hear the whispers
as I awake
it is my soul
they are here to take
as long as Sun
does break the night
as long as
I shall wake to light
I will not succumb to Satan's rule
I will not become his loyal fool
oldie - just a simple metaphor for the deep state
Mar 2018 · 429
silent testimony
the ******* the stairs saw nothing
heard nothing
no shadows
no creeking wood
no killer
words mangled
and twisted
and cut
fall out of history
silent lies
treachery
like a virus
poisons the truth
hides the light
grips the throat of all those who knew
and every breath reminds them
until their last
that they were seduced
by evil
oldie - there's a book called 'The ******* the Stairs' a witness in the school book depository who was in a position to see Oswald coming down the only stairs and means of escape if he had indeed been in the ******'s nest - but she did not see Oswald and like numerous witnesses that poked holes in the WC report - her testimony was not considered
Mar 2018 · 661
consequence
the shattered remains of consequence
are glued together
like pieces of a broken plate
to be used again
hopefully unnoticed
are the lines
the scars
that run deep
oldie
Mar 2018 · 545
crossfire
They echo through our dreams
clear as church bells
on a crisp Sunday morning
'from that direction
where everyone is looking...
don't you see?'
smoke continues to rise
some 50 years later
from a fire still burning
of greed and hate
the bitter taste remains
the nightmare of truth
keeps it veiled in shadows and silence
hiding in the blinding light
of paradise
Oldie
Mar 2018 · 478
dark night
blood is spilled as credits run
twelve new shadows lose the Sun
cellphones off
the popcorn hot
severed souls now haunt this spot
let's change theaters
I know this scene
they break
they turn
they ****
I mean...
how many times has this been done?
the dark night rises
the scene is run
...again
Oldie - after the 2012 shootings during the showing of Dark Knight Rises
Mar 2018 · 2.1k
Redneck Wedding Toast
I wrote your sweet name in the glistening snow
I drank too much beer and just had to go
it's your weddin' reception
and I thought Fred should know
that I nailed you last week in my 86 Volvo
Good thing I drank that 12 pack of Schlitz
cause the beer ya'll servin'
gives me the sh-ts
I know it's a tad sloppy
but if I get on my knees
I may **** icicles
cause my doodads'l freeze!
Now the world knows that the ****** did lie
will ya cross the 'T' Billy Bob?
I done ****** myself dry
Happy Honeymoon Fred and your two timin' *****
Don't forget to tell him 'bout Bubba and Frank?
Burp! ....somebody catch me!!!
very oldie! all in fun
Mar 2018 · 515
Mr Ali N Gray
Thirty-six hours passed with no rest
but I am now deep within a dream
of strange substance and color
my emotions strained and stretched
my body turned inside-out by
floating lights
this is the price paid when one denies sleep

I blink from a nightmare of glistening
silver probes
to see in my awakened state
the blank stare of almond sized black eyes
a gray
silhoetted against the vanilla ice cream colored
shades of my living room window
the contrast visible
even in this monicum of light
he leans a bit to my right as I jump into consciousness
and I know he is surprised
before sending me back

When the morning Sun brings me around
my body
head to toe
feels worn
with fever
my daily aches
routine with age
are maximized and accentuated
the gray is fresh in my mind
the first clear thought
the clarity of his presence
undeniable

A quick check
testicles intact
coffee to chase the headache
a shower to
wash away the abuse
Oldie - slightly revised
Mar 2018 · 706
somewhere
shall we meet
if only for the first time
though I feel we have danced
briefly
in times past
in the life I still live
in these fields of gold
songs that haunt me with their beauty

yet somewhere
over that rainbow of dreams
I sense you wait for me
when Autumn leaves fall
how dare I love a spirit
I do not know
yet it is my conviction that we are bound somehow
in time
after time

awaken me
in those darkest nights
in the absence of purity
before my soul is taken by the abyss
a whisper is all I need
whisper the word from that song...
somewhere
oldie - slightly revised - I was motivated to write this piece after hearing Eva Cassidy' s version of 'Over the Rainbow' which she never knew became a hit in England as she passed from cancer without ever having a record contract. She was offered, but they wouldn't allow her to choose her songs, so she refused to sign. She grew up in my town.
https://youtu.be/2rd8VktT8xY
Mar 2018 · 546
Oops, I did it again!
In spite of my diminishing returns in the field of love
I am drawn to you
in spite of my declining belief that a 'Splendor in the Grass' moment will ever occur
I am drawn to you
in spite of my conviction that I am done with beautiful women who eat men for lunch  
I am drawn to you
like static makes a mess of the perfectly laid combover
your electric charge fires a blinding light that pulls me in like a fish on an invisible hook

I am helpless once again
I am primed for the pain
my arms are spread wide-open like a turkey about to be stuffed
slap a 'SOLD' sticker on my forehead and take me off the front shelf cause you just bought yourself one over-used
love addicted male companion for the next few years  
and all you had to do was look my way
oldie - don't be mad at me ladies...just for the record - this can work both ways
Mar 2018 · 444
Seabeams glisten
...and in the silence of that scene
the pause between
the tears unseen
the rain
Roy tells Deckard
of the beams
of the dreams
of the things
he wouldn't believe
now all the words
have lost their rhyme
like hope sublime
did he run out of life
or run out of time
oldie - a tribute to the greatest scene ever
Mar 2018 · 410
it has begun
they have been watching us since our birth
like concerned mothers watching their babies grow
from afar, yet with a close eye

they realize that their undisciplined and unworthy children
have gained control
and have silenced the majority through deception and greed

they realize that this has brought the paradise they founded
to the brink of apocalypse
and they have begun steps to alter this destructive path

they are here now
they have said hello
in the crop circles
in the clouds
in our dreams

the children free of greed
free of power driven thought
and open to the idea that the beauty given us
is all we need to sustain
know this

it shall happen in our lifetimes
the signs are there
and soon
when they feel we are ready
they will end the flight of a bullet
or a missile
before it completes its life ending path
and before us they will proclaim for all the world to hear...
'Enough'
oldie - slightly revised
Mar 2018 · 666
it is our time
now comes a vision
I see clear
the love we long for
has drawn near
the calling of our hearts we hear
it is our time

the darkness parts
so we may pass
the light we share
burns bright at last
the future now forgives the past
it is our time

and so our dream
now greets the Sun
the light that burned
in dreams is done
we walk in love
we walk as one
it is our time
oldie
Mar 2018 · 459
graceful mistake
fire spark of lover's sweat
hazy moan engulf the air
gripping sheets and bending pillows
moonlight streaks on wet windows
energy reaches dream state
then disappears through the keyhole
and there is nothing more than silence
before the quiet escape
and the unspoken acceptance
of this graceful mistake
oldie - revised
Mar 2018 · 569
awakening
I once rode a dream
in a mind made wheel of red light
it took me where I imagined
a rooftop on the corner of my block
or a moon of Jupiter
where I watched the Earth being born
and then die
all in the span of one dream
history known and unknown
I witnessed
those whose lives I read and cried for
and those who garnered no words
those who passed in battle for glory
and those who withered unbeknownst
those who spoke to millions
and those millions
who left in silence
will I remember?
within this dream I asked
to whatever power
whatever being
allowed this
and with that I awoke
to bright Sun
and the laughter of my daughter
'Wake up daddy...wake up
will you remember what?'
perhaps just a dream
perhaps more
but hear me now
seven years have passed
and not a day have I forgotten
not a day
have I not cherished
oldie
Mar 2018 · 503
the wrath of day
I am not angry with the day
though I gaze the skies with such disdain
I cannot outrun the light
so in the interim I wait idly by
or hide in shadows

so strong and constant
is the Sun
reminder of my weakness burns
I greet the darkness in it's absence
it holds no truth
no strength
only the means to cower

I will ride the ***** of night
until I fall into my dreams
where thoughts are kind and colors play
it is here I escape
the wrath of day
revised oldie - still not satisfied
Mar 2018 · 642
these dreams
sharpened to crystal serenity
my vision breathes life
into these moving pictures
these dreams
I awake to sweat and thirst
should I dream of a sun drenched paradise
or the afterglow of love
should I meet her
on the moonlit plane of ecstasy
I am alive in my world of fantasy
it is here that I am lost
here that I am waiting
for life to reveal itself
oldie
Mar 2018 · 545
what we believe
we do not choose what we believe
we must believe in who we are
our lives begin and end with truth
how bright the light
how true the star
the further from the heart we drift
the less we know the soul
to the wind our thoughts will sift
our dreams just fragments
never whole
we do not choose what we believe
we must believe in who we are
take a pause and take a look
before you walk too far
oldie
Mar 2018 · 502
dead of winter
I hear the rumbling of a distant train
the steady pulse makes its way up the mountain
through the leafless trees
and dense mist of an oncoming thought
but it does not come closer
only passes and fades to still
calm time
the large blackbirds search along the blanketed white hills
but there is little to feed upon
and I sense defeat as they pull their wings tighter
against the wind
the days are cold this high
and the nights are unforgiving
one bird leaves the limb
landing upon my window ledge
peers through the glass and catches my eye
quickly learning that he will find no solace
here
oldie revised
Mar 2018 · 802
where does the poet turn
Where does the poet turn
when the words cannot be found
who will see him
through quiet nights
and solemn days
as he fumbles in thought
at a scene already written
an emotion already spent
the frightening possibility
that his dreams have all been dreamed
his nightmares all survived
the poet's eye if narrowed
is blind

a cold wind turns the corner
as he makes his way
to the nearby park
with pencil and pad
he will gaze in infinite wonder
the children at play
the Sun on the bay
and he will wish he could live
the words once again
oldie
Mar 2018 · 728
alone on these quiet shores
alone on these quiet shores
in the precious moments before the Sun departs
final echoes of laughter have faded
the mind turns to the reason I am here
it is hallowed ground to this weary traveler
that which brings me back to a path of pure thought
the connection of the soul and mind
the ocean soothes like a gentle voice
of one familiar
and I am somehow closer to you here
it is in these moments that I feel the energy of you
sense the beauty of you
and when the laughter returns
when the moment is no longer mine
this precious time that I have saved
will tell me
when you are near
oldie
Mar 2018 · 754
last word
the last word falls
like a mountain on a dove
a shadow on a child
a bullet through a rose
and no-one knows
quill rests between cold fingers
the ink
is dry
oldie
Mar 2018 · 311
December Visit
the Sun had set and the night sky was clear
as the storm headed out to Sea
leaving the new fallen snow
glistening in the moon's light
I viewed from my mountain top home
as she made her way across the white oasis
leaving not a sign in the cold powder
she was as I remember
her fire red hair flowing past her shoulders
her gentle eyes of sky blue
her warmth felt through the chilling air
of this December night
she visits me at every snowfall
for it was her favorite time
'there is nothing more beautiful'
she would say
smiling through her heart
she walks to the edge of the wood
where we would often sit below the first pine
pauses
and sends a whisper my way
caught by the wind and delivered
just before vanishing behind a swirling gust of white
another oldie revised...yea...pretty sappy...but
Mar 2018 · 397
she knew
she knew all that I was
and I her
this is what I miss
this is what I remember
when her name is whispered
in a distant corner
so that I cannot hear
but I can
I can hear her name
in the glint of a star
not yet seen
on the crest of a dream
not yet realized
she knew
she knew that I loved her
oldie - revised
Mar 2018 · 355
bittersweet
she is bitter
I can see
I follow
as she walks again to the dark back of the building
where breaks are allowed
she attacks her cigarette
******* the smoke and hurling it out at the cold night air
our way is silence
now she knows how well I hide it
she knows I know
as our minds join at the top of her rising smoke
we await midnight
where our bittersweet passion
will find it's home
oldie - revised
It was July of '64, I think
not long after a bunch of ******* sick with greed, hate and vengeance masked as patriotism  
blew the President's head off
I was trying to hold onto my childhood at 9
it became rather difficult after that
I saw that famous news guy take off his glasses and weep before the nation
on our 25 inch black and white Zenith
I looked at that guy like a dog looks at something completely askew
something not at all normal that has just entered it's world

I was outside, behind my house in Southeast D.C.
Anacostia
playing along the incline where the coal made it's way from the
old apartment building's basement window opening
there was always some that they would spill when loading up
to feed the giant furnace
Tommy Arthur, who had criminal written all over him at 16
his greased back jet black hair, Banlon shirts, baggy grey slacks and high-top All Stars walked by with a friend
stopped to light his Lucky Strike
and asked me to show him how I could jump from one tree to another
I had done it 100 times, no big deal
my chance to show off for the town's bad ***
I reached the top and took my usual look around
there was the roof of my house, Sam's Market on the corner,
Baby and her brother Stinky playing on their porch
Baby still had the cast on her leg from the car that sent her flying
She was running across U Street to make it safely to base during a game of 'hide and seek'
Stinky...trust me, you don't want to know why he has that name.
I turned toward the tree limb belonging to the tree that grew alongside this one
it was an easy jump really, not more than 4 or 5 feet
perhaps I was a bit too cocky
after all, this was Tommy Arthur
other than the upper half of my 2 middle fingers on the right hand
and even less of the left, nothing touched limb
I was woefully short
I saw ground coming quickly
laced with broken coal chunks and little else
I smacked the hill face first
awkwardly twisting slightly to the right just prior to impact
Tommy and his friend, mouths agape
respectfully asked if I was allright
just before leaving
instinctively smelling trouble
blood was shooting from an opening above my left eye
at the upper corner of my forehead just below the hairline
my white tee shirt was quickly soaked and bright red
It was quite a relief when the cobwebs cleared and I realized I was alive
and even more incredibly, suffered no broken bones as far as I could tell
seeing that I was facing no more than a few stitches to close a head wound
my attention now turned to what good use I could make of my horrific appearance
besides having a great story to tell my buddies

I started walking towards the backyard gate
which was just a matter of 20 or 30 feet
I thought about what I'd do once I reached the house
but it all played out perfectly
as I climbed the steps to the back porch
and slowly made my way to the kitchen just inside
I see Mom with her back to me and she's frying chicken
I slowly enter and remain poised just inside the kitchen entrance
after a minute or so she turns with a pan of frying *******, wings and thighs
she sees her youngest son with a fully bloodied tee shirt
and blood spewing from his head
a chicken wing flew past me and I believe cleared the porch
other chicken parts and grease were strewn about the kitchen, dining room
and hallway
I was shown little sympathy for my wound
and after some very intense cleaning up was taken to Dr Phillips for stitches
Dr Phillips was never surprised to see me

The scar remains after 53 years
I returned once or twice and drove past the house
and looked at those trees I had climbed so many times

on that July day in 1964
I had fallen nearly 3 stories
landed head first into hard ground
and walked home with no more than a cut
all logic says I should have broken my neck
but in my life logic plays a very small part
It's a miracle I survived my childhood...it's all cake anyway because I was a mistake. My mother was on strict orders to not have more children after my older sister due to health issues...but here I am. Maybe because of that I have cheated death many times.
Feb 2018 · 371
the collector
Surprised to find me in your lair
lucifer?
that look is unbecoming
yes
I am well aware of your wickedness
as are the Gods
they only shake their heads in despair
and send me to do their bidding
unlike yourself
I do not crave to bestow suffering
your death shall be brief
come now
did you really believe that your empire
built on the blood and corpses of the innocent
would come without retribution?
Sin
lucifer
is never overlooked
or eclipsed by power
power you will now relinquish for eternity
say goodbye to your precious hell
and hello to a new one
for your soul shall reside in the company of those you took
a rather fitting punishment don't you think?
is that fear I detect in the eyes of the great lucifer?
your presence is awaited with great anticipation
and I shall give them their prize
oldie
Feb 2018 · 532
a life in my hands
i held a life in my hands today
and tried to give it back
but could not
she had fallen too high
into the light
and my breath fell short
perhaps she paused
perhaps she knew
i see her face again
when she was young
when she was who she was
and it will always be there
framed in light
pure as breath
alive with the promises
of youth
several years ago I was called to a room where a woman had stopped breathing. I started CPR...first time I had ever done it...and continued until the emt's arrived. they zapped her with the defib and got a heartbeat. I've never spoken to her. I wrote this before I realized she had survived a long period of rehab.
Feb 2018 · 311
mirror metaphor
In a High School classroom
I read a poem many years ago
about a man who stood before another man
vaguely pleading under his breath
for the other man held a knife
and appeared willing to carry out this act
there was little fight left in him
even before this stranger arrived
for his life had become a succession
of empty days
and long nights dreading the Sun
he had become a victim of his own bitterness
a sad, depleted soul
and he almost welcomed an end

'the blood of fleeing life
and the tears of anguish fell in drops
to the time-worn floor of the dismal room'

such a pitiful fate
even more pitiful is the fact that there was no stranger

'a blinking hotel sign revealed a dead man
lying beneath a mirror smeared with blood
and dried to the image of a stretched palm
many hours later'
Shortly after writing that piece
some 40 plus years ago during the darkest period of my life
I read the full poem (this contains excerpts)
in Creative writing class
to a group of baffled students
when I saw their faces and the teacher's
reaction...I knew I'd be doing this for a while
Feb 2018 · 446
hold that thought
Hold that thought, baby
my brain is rusted
Jessica got fat
and Chris Brown got busted
what did you say?
now that's just sad
Angela hates Jennifer
Jennifer hates Brad
ARod took roids
Michael did ****
what happened at work?
your boss did you wrong?
it's a commercial
you just about done?
who loves ya...oops!
baby, put down that gun!
this dates itself
Feb 2018 · 262
time heals
I was there
so deep into the abyss
that light burned when I faced the day
so lost in the comfort of night
that I knew not the warmth of the Sun
I crept closer to the reaper's door
my words became razors
my heart an open wound
yet there was one who refused to leave
when the darkest night arrived
and took the final cut
meant for me
oldie
Feb 2018 · 438
reaper
the clown in the picture turns his head
and glares
crows gather in the corner
and wait patiently
ghost of all demons
snaps his neck
one final breath
escapes
clown blinks
crows fly
shadow fades
siren screams from a distance
and ever so slowly
finds it's way

having pronounced
he exits shaking
at what he had seen
in those dead eyes
oldie - slightly reworked
Feb 2018 · 590
aftermath
long ago
we lay quietly in the aftermath
of an exhaustive period of rage
the eye
of this terrible storm
rendering a peaceful moment
'don't ever leave me'
you said
in such a pitiful whisper
that I almost believed you
such a haunting, calming plea
that I knew at that moment
I'd never forget this night
even if it be our last
oldie
Feb 2018 · 340
deep blue
She walks upon a higher ground
this I know
yet I allow my eye to wander
my mind to imagine
she does not choose to be there
it is simply how it is
she knows not her place
yet resides there alone
my soul, my heart meet her eyes
and in this deep well of rich blue
she reads me, absorbs me
as if I were a book lay open

I pity the next lonely gent
who dare look into those eyes
and not turn away
saving his heart for another
oldie
Feb 2018 · 537
Eden
and when asked to imagine
did we
for it is where the answers lay
pleading
and when asked to dream
could we
beyond the superficial surface
where we tread
and when asked to fight
would we
for the chance to remain
in Eden

forgive us Father
our ignorant bliss
oldie
Feb 2018 · 603
in a world that's dying
what is love
in a world that's dying
what is joy
in a world so trying
what is truth
in a world where lying
is an art form

what is faith
in a world so blind
what is hope
in a world unkind
what are dreams
in a world where mind
is unexplored

what is peace
in a world unfed
what is poetry
in a world unread
what is living
in a world who's bed
has already been made
not a good day
Feb 2018 · 609
poetic just us
The secrets of a snowflake
catch our eye
as it glistens past a reflected shard of moonlight
the wind off a butterfly wing
catch our ear
as it glides towards its destination
exhilerating coolness as the Sun rises
pushing night air to earth

lasting sound and image
like my child's first breath
these are the gifts given us
alongside the torment we must endure
we the poets
seekers of life at emotions pinnacle
surveyors of every energy
joy or sadness

in the fray
we are watching you
oldie
Feb 2018 · 418
worlds away
Here again
worlds away
I am adrift within the walls of gloom
come upon me like a creeping demon
through a door I cannot lock
into a realm I cannot reach
to test my faith
in time
my resolve to survive
and not abandon
the inviting entity
the passageway
the soul
another oldie
Feb 2018 · 565
The Souls of Cool Spring
Waves of mystic wind born this moment
the first cut into hallowed ground
I search relics of the ****** battle of Cool Spring
yelps of Soldiers, first blurred
then sharpening into individual clarity
rein down like passing bullets upon my ears
shadows run along the hill that drops off to the creek
as tree limbs orchestrate
thunderous hooves dart past and through me
leaves lift and swirl like tiny tornadoes
I click off the machine and remove the shovel
from the gaping wound
silence falls and in this empty wood
my thoughts of sorrow are heard
upon the wound a button lay
pristeen as the day it fell
some hundred fifty years ago
a shadow dips below the hill
I take the button
and leave a tear
for the souls of Cool Spring
Feb 2018 · 335
Starkman spoke
'You there in the back
your name escapes me
we have heard a poem from everyone else
you are the last'

the silence was thick fog rolling in
they stared and lightly giggled
nervous
I sensed that in them
afraid to show any real interest
in what I was about to say
they had read their pieces
on daffodils and daisies
sunsets and moonbeans
now they would hear what they knew was coming
I was the kid they crossed the street to avoid
that sat alone at lunch
not the geek
not the freak
just the unknown
quiet but confident
saying everything in my silence
by the time I had finished
'Hollow Man'
they knew me better
yet the distance became greater

they told mommy and daddy
the Starkman spoke in class today
Wow...dug this out of the ancient files. Inspired by Pearl Jam's Jeremy. Back then I wrote under T Owen Stark...hence...Starkman (too funny)...'Hollow Man' was a poem about a guy who locks himself up in a hotel room to **** himself...I know...lovely!
Feb 2018 · 942
so quickly gone
night colors drip
from the hand not raised
from the smile unfazed
by the empty space
that lay beside me

nightmares slip
into my soul resigned
into my world designed
to hold in dreams
the love denied me

waking to the burning light
her voice now fades from blue to white
her smile a thought so quickly gone
a memory lost
again
to dawn
oldie
Feb 2018 · 1.5k
sweet dream
Voice calls gently in the night
mind awakens lucid flight
gazing from Orion's shores
Angels open dreamscape doors
shadows cross the face of Mars
lovers count the falling stars
Sun evokes a gentle breath
to mark another twilight's death
awaken dreamer to morning's light
dreams rest silent til birth of night
oldie re-worked
Feb 2018 · 736
another night at Brewsters
lost in smoke that swirls like ghosts
round music and laughter that sways in stride
blurred by ***** my eyes sweep slowly
through the flickers and clicks of bodies
I search for an opening to make my escape
drowning in thoughts of lust and lines to spin
unable to speak them even to myself
I am not this
gameroom for hollow pleasures
far cries to fill the void
left by love not perceived
therefore unattainable

through the mist of emotional waste
as I prepare to depart
a voice caught me blind and sliced the silent noise
in a deafening whisper
'breathe deep' she said
as a hand turned me to the left
she stood as light in a desert of shadows
she was all I could see
her beauty was staggering
even in my diminished state
I blinked to reset my eyes
and she remained
'Breathe deep and look upon me
for I have found you
and you do not belong here'
Gloria leaned over the bar and whispered
'You okay, you look like you've seen a ghost!'

all was quiet as I left
arm in arm with a vision
I heard the meeting of glasses
as they toasted one they knew would not return
oldie...part 2 of Brewsters
Jan 2018 · 489
monsters and romantics
how does one reconcile
the delicate dreams of a poet
and the overt disdain for life
within a killer
co-existing
sharing the same air
the same blood
the same thoughts
'such a peculiar strand'
our makers ponder
and in their hope that we not be removed
filter us with dna
so that we may displace our sometimes
monstrous ways
only this mutation could produce
an intertwined anomoly
capable of producing the beauty of starry nights
and the violence of self mutilation
undying love for another
and hatred for oneself
from our beginnings
we have survived amongst those whose
greed dominates their lives
whose egos drive their existence
while others are lost
without the love and warmth of another's heart
another's soul to share in their dreams
strange strand we are
a mystery to our makers
inspired by Shang's 'goodbye, July
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