The violin is sonorous
The cellos are in tune
The kettle drums
of thunder
Beat against the moon
Woodwinds through
the eaves
Make the nightbirds
swoon...

Coyotes are a clarinet
Such a lonely howl
As the night storm passes
You can hear the owl
Cougar makes his
entrance
With a roaring growl...

Crickets are ubiquitous
Rosening their bows
Sometimes in the
summer
Cicada's music flows
The nocturnal fragrance
Trickles through
the groves
It makes the
lovers giddy
Romances the nose...

The stars are
great musicians
At last, they appear
They play the piano
With the music
of the spheres
All the while, listening,
The cactus stands
and hears
God gave coyote
voices...

but Saguaro He gave

*EARS.

With holes in pockets
Can we buy?
Gain truth from
The lips that lie?
Without ever asking
Why?

Is guidance in
A folded map?
Wealth within
Bottle cap?
Does fine champagne
Come on tap?

Does knowledge come
From books fast closed?
Water from a frozen hose?

Motion from a
Locked up gear?
Faith from gurus
Full of fear?

Can oil flow
From stoppered jars?
Travel made in totaled cars?
Peace be won from
World War?

Calculating sums from nil
For naught we pay
Usurious bills
No winning wars where
ALL are killed

The wind listeth
              where it will...

We beard the lion
In his lair
Close the pane

To breathe the air.


SøułSurvivør
5/23/2017

The Dragon Hatched

Baby snakes are always
The most dangerous.
They have not yet
Learned how to release
Their venom. I was a
Horrible little girl.
A terrible tease. I had
(And still have) a
Samurai tongue.
I know just where
To cut where it
Hurts the most.
And just like that
Baby snake
I struck out at
My baby brother.
Poor Mark. To this
Day he bears the
Marks of my fangs.
I'm being brutally
Honest. I was an
Unholy *terror...

I wish for your
Compassion however.
Hurting children
(People) hurt other
Children (people).
There's a incubator
For bullies. Mine was
In an incident when
I was 3 years old.

My sister and I were
*****. Not molested.
*****. By a child
Predator on a train.
My mother was sick
With one of her
Blinding migraine
Headaches. She
Couldn't watch us.
So we ran around
The train
Unrestrained. The
Obvious happened.
My sister, only 4,
Always felt guilty
Thereafter that she
Couldn't protect me!
My SOUL cries out
As I write this!
That little girl was
So wounded that
She withdrew from
Me for her guilt...

And *doted on my
Baby brother.

This absolutely *slayed
Me! and my sweet
Little baby brother
Received the brunt
Of my brutal anger.

I WAS ANGRY!!!
At everyone and
Everything. And the

DRAGON HATCHED...


SøułSurvivør
5/21/2017

"The ocean is a desert
with its life underground
and a perfect disguise
above..." Dewey Bunnell

On a horse with
no name I rode
bare-backed in
the purple sage...
***** Pipe cacti
played the melodies
of Mexico.

Swaying sea grasses
were skirts for the
range fences...
broken and rusty.
To be avoided,
my parents warned...
Tetanus... lock-jaw.
Other things to be
aware of...
don't swim too far
from the beach...
don't stay too long
in the sun...

I was happy at the
tide pools... aqua and
pristine. Sea slugs...
far from slug-like.
Flat and purplish
with frilly edges,
undulating dancers.
Picked up and dropped
over and over.
Baby octopi... an
entire tidepool
drenched in purple
ink in its desperate
bid for freedom...
Sea Urchins...
"Their spines can
****..." my parents
warned. It was
fascinating how
they attached
themselves to
the rocks...
Almost as firmly
as the limpets...

We had
Hermit Crab races
Ate food disallowed
at home... swam
out to where water
was ultramarine...
jumped over the
barbed-wire...

with our arms

hugging

the

sun...*


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/21/2017

The Dragon's Egg

To understand my addiction
You have to know the
Back-story.

I was born in the dead of
Winter. Wednesday's child...
Full of woe. I was a preemie.
Mom fell on her stomach while
On a chair trying to change a
Lightbulb. As unpreposessing
A child as ever was born...

I won't go into my childhood
Difficulties too much, as they
Might prompt your judgment
Upon my parents. They were
Not really at fault. They did
The best they could based
Upon *their childhoods and
Limitations....

Mom was sick.
A great deal. The victim of
Horrific migraine headaches
And an undiagnosed (therefore
Untreated) bi-polar condition.
She had aspirations of being an
Actor. She really should never
Have had three children. She
Simply couldn't handle it. I was
Born only 16 months after her
Firstborn, my sister Chris. This
Definitely didn't help matters.
Then, because my little brother
Mark was born just as her
Acting career took off, she had
Much less time for my sister
And I. She had a newborn, a
Career, a husband and
Postpartum depression. Chris
And I (and eventually Mark)
Were neglected. Not really
Mom's fault. It was what
It was...

Dad was a complex man.
A hot-tempered stoic. A hard
Worker who hated manual
Labor. A war hero who also
Became a runner (he would
Become a severe
Alcoholic - an addiction he
eventually overcame).
A generous miser.
A cultured plebian.
A spiritually minded atheist.

I don't blame him. But the
Last dichotomy was our
Downfall. We were
disallowed from church. Went
To an atheist Sunday School.
We learned about all the world
Religions save Christianity.
Or maybe I missed THAT lesson.
But as a result I had no real
Moral compass to live by. My
Parents tried to teach us
Ethical behavior, but because
Jesus and the Holy Spirit weren't
A part of the equation it was
Doomed to failure. One can't
Simply be "moral" or "ethical".
Without Jesus, we are all
Rank sinners. Sorry if this
Offends some of you. But it's
TRUE. Jesus paid the price.
Only faith in Him can make
A person right with the Father.
All else is vanity. My father
Spent his lifetime trying to be
A "good" man. He tried to
Be a "good" husband. A "good"
Father. But his efforts
Always stymied by lack
Of the essential puzzle piece....

JESUS**.

The Moon Man sat
Upon a branch
Fat and jolly
Strong and staunch
Just sat there
Broke out his lunch
Put his banjo
On his haunch...

Began to strum
A happy tune
I asked my favorite,
"Clair de Lune"
He said he'd play it
And we'd spoon
It's gonna be
So HOT in June
The heat is comin'
Comin' soon...

He rested there
upon that limb
The cats played sax
Upon a whim
They were right
In tune with him
The Star-fish
Began to swim!

The Moon Man played
The crickets sang
Through the night
The music rang!
We had such fun!
The drums would bang
The tympany
Made beat and clang...

Then he got up
His full height
He made his exit
To the right
Flew off that branch
Into the night
now the fireflies
Hold his light!


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/18/2017

The bane of my existence
As a HePo writer
Every time I go to read
I get this stupid blighter!

Don't know what is up
What is going wrong
I have a reading backlog
10,000 miles long!

I'm really beside myself!
This is the last straw!
I want to read your poetry
Not test Murphy's Law!

Just be patient please
I'm under the gun
A LOT of folks
are out there

*And I will read everyone!

where do they go?
to mountains of synonyms
pushing lilac or purple
or puce or lavender
from valleys
of russet metaphors?
do verbs frollic?
nouns place themselves
before mirrors
asking themselves
"who am I?"
adjectives, do they
answer?
do the long words
most people don't
understand
do they go on
spending sprees
with their
million dollar
Lotto winnings?
do conjunctions
play matchmaker?
or hitch up
boxcars for
the more expressive
poetic engineers
to haul through
the long winds?

ghosts of past tenses
invade present
and mixed metaphors
haunt the nightmares
of learned readers.
gerunds run on
their little wheels
and stuff their cheeks
with prepositions.

where do words go
when they die?
they must hang as

DANGLING
PARTICIPLES.

I was never the hero of
My own life. Nor did I try to
Be. I ran. No Red Badge of Courage.

No Olympiad. No laurels to be placed
On a head bowed in humility. I ran...
In the wrong direction. I had a Dragon
To chase, you see. No St George,
However. I wanted to embrace the
Monster, and take it home. And in
Doing so, i was severely burned
In the process.

I've spent a majority of my life
severely addicted to drugs and
Alcohol. Anything. ***. Amphetamines.
Acid. ***... Anything that could
Alter my pathetic state. I was the
Walking Wounded. Dead. My drug
Of choice was *******. Crack. It did
The job better than anything else
I tried. The euphoria a road to
That fabulous beast unlike any other.
That pipe and lighter its flaming maw.

But, ironically, the rock of my shame
Lead to the Rock of my Salvation.

And I finally ran... into Jesus's arms.

A dish best served cold?
Well. A poet can whack a
rock-solid frozen bowl of
Alphabet Soup their rival's
direction and lodge it
between their teeth like a
HOCKEY PUCK.

But to what end? To prove
they CAN?

To be deadly cold means
LIVING IN THE FREEZER

♡ Catherine

dawn whispers softly
its conch shell pink lip placed
on the sky's dark ear


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/17/2017

Here's a little pome
From your little girl
Dedicated to the one
Who brought me
             to the world...

I wasn't an easy child
I thought it would be fun
To run through
              the house screaming
              tormenting everyone!

There was the time
              when I got "lost"
It must've made you bats!
But, of course, you found me...
               in a cage with feral cats!

I got lost on that Hawaiian trip
In that department store...
The largest in the country!
Couldn't find me anywhere!

Another time I climbed on up
To cookies on the shelf...
The top of those cabinets!
I could have killed myself!

Then, as I got older
I became more wild
I won't go into details
But I was a tough child!

I'm surprised I'm still around
For all the things I've done
I must be here to love you now
And I DO love you, ***!

Yeah, I'm surprised I'm living!
I've done SO many things...
I got high... could've been higher...
With a halo and some WINGS!

'Cause moms?
They can be tougher
They can do more than shout
They brought us
IN to this 'ol world...
            and they can take us OUT!

Here's to my Maternal Unit
Yup... you must've passed the test
And when God gave out the hearts

He gave you the BEST!


♡ Your daughter Catherine

°○
°○
○
°
<o[[[><

when you feel like
you're drowning


learn to be a fish!.

[10W]

earth and wind
spew cloudy corruption.
I bite the breathing blossom
trying not to inspire
inky irritation.
ignorance.
ignominy.

I inhale anyway.

how, after all, can one

stop breathing?



SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/13/2017

shivering
shadows
of lingering fingers
fulfilling... culminating
this coil of mortality...
muted mystery
sought

bewitching
he runs his hands
ravishing desires...
beautiful thought

harbinger to eternity
he holds your heart
within ethereal
grasp

longing for
languid lethargy
breath becomes
your last...

blackest kiss
transcends bliss
faded flowers known

towards the light
in your flight
to heaven
to God's

throne

glory glitters
all around
you're jaw
is opened
slack!

Jesus says,
"... it's not your time...
my child, you're going

BACK!

I'm the Lover of your soul.
do not covet Death...
he will come when
I allow...
for now, in me rest..."

so, now, you are
caught by Him
back to earth
returned

you have to wait
for divine fate...

*another lesson learned.

sea change always happens
at the point of no return

SøułSurvivør
(C) 3/25/2014

etched on ecru
tooth or tusk
born of boredom
and bloodlust
sailors scrape
the ships at sea
fabulous frigates
fast and free
ever sailing
n'er to sink
pipe ash used
they had no ink
whales weren't wasted
their tooths a part
of this great
seafaring

art.

craven
crouched
crows with
human limbs
faces with beaks
preening
or searching
for
anything
that

shines


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017

no small talk
wit nor regret wrought

just simply

be

comedy
clandestine couples
clamerous cosmetics
coughing guffaws
garrulous giggles
gratefully grinning

grotesque charlatans...

tragedy**
torrid transgressions
tornado turnabout
tempestuous tradition
transcendent puberty
punishing parable
poignantly

pointless.


Shakespeare.
wove both into
his weft of

words.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017

what is death?
the maw of the
maelstrom

moribund
malcontent


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017

from a
ceaseless
series of synaptic
snaps synthesized
subconsciously
the subterranean
cycle collapsed.

all that's left...
withered and wanting
black walnut

barren.

begging she
hobbles
wobbly on
bent legs her
garments
unraveled
scarlet
letter
meticulously
embroidered on
sagging
bossom
golden heart worn
upon the wrist
which
wields
the
collapsible
white
cane.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/12/2017

Where's a soft, safe place to land
In a desperate hour
When you find you cannot stand
And you're a mighty tower?

Where's a shoulder you can cry on
When you're the one who's tough?
Where's the place where
you can go
When you have had enough?

Where is God at times
When you are like an owl?
When you're in the 18th round
And want to toss the towel?

Sometimes I just feel this way!
Sometimes it's just hard!
It seems folks want to lean on me
When I'm a house of cards!

I know that God is closest
When He seems far away
I know that in my intellect
But it doesn't feel that way!

So I'll put on praises
To music I bequeath
Sing to my Lord and Savior
Though through gritted teeth!

I will read the Psalms
About David's many trials
HE didn't always dance a jig.
HE didn't always smile!

I'm not going to sell you stuff
You don't want to buy
I'm not gonna tell a tale
I'm not going to die, but
Sometimes *I NEED A SHOULDER

Upon which to lie!

Chickens live
within a coop
Scratch and peck
in their own ****
Their nests are
low down to the earth
They scream and squack
for all they're worth!
Afraid of storms
they have no dreams
Afraid of everything
it seems!
Their young are squabs
Their eggs are beaten

In the end
they are eaten!

Eagles build their
lofty nests
So their chicks
will withstand tests
They are made with
rugged sticks
So in the end
they pinch and *****
They line their nests
like softest cloud
When baby's grown
they pull it OUT!
The center nest
no longer soft
Babe sits on edge...

AND IS KNOCKED OFF!

Should, in flight,
the fledgling lack
Mom will catch it
on her back!
The little eaglet
has to try
So in the end
they learn to fly!

Eagles dream!
They are reborn!
They will fly into a storm!

Eagles wings
are built to soar!
They will fly

FOREVERMORE!

SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/3/2017

Memories of bruises
Velvet fit for kings
In the petals of a pansey
Oily sheen of raven's wings
The inside of a geode
Tanzanite in rarest form
The color of a baby's face
Right after it is born
It is the color indgo
To red violet of wine
Tracing stormy sunsets or
Boganvilla vines
Plums and grapes
remind one
Of purple's strange appeal
The color of great bravery
A wound which finally heals
Whatever your mentality
This collage of purple hues
Is simply a mixture of

The colors red & blue


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/2/2017

10W X 5*

Gratitude is eating a big
mud hoagie without
a grudge...

Humility is knowing you
are nothing more than
that mud...

Forgiveness is pardoning
the person who made you
the sandwich...

Faith is turning the mud
hoagie into Angel Food
Cake...

Godliness... giving a piece
of Angel Food Cake in return!

Love's the glue
Which heals the heart
No matter how shattered
Torn appart
Your life's not over
Your doom's not sealed
Your body's broken
Your spirit's healed

Love's the glue
Love's the glue
Flows from His veins
For me and you
He was broken
He was shamed
That we'd be pardoned
Free from blame
You know it's righteous
You know it's true
If you're broken
Love's the glue

He's lost his home
He has no car
He takes the bus
From bar to bar
He's lost his wife
He's lost his friends
The bottle's bottom
Never ends
She's on chemo
Lost her hair
She's so gaunt
That people stare
She has no family
Lost her breast
But there are arms
Where she can rest...

[Chorus]

BRIDGE:
Bruised and battered
Whipped and flayed
He could have left
Before He paid
The final price
For me and you
Jesus heals...

*LOVE'S THE GLUE

PLEASE PRAY FOR A LADY I KNOW! THE ENEMY IS ATTACKING HER FORCEFULLY!
HER NAME & LOCATION IS UNIMPORTANT. AS ARE HER CIRCUMSTANCES. GOD KNOWS WHAT SHE NEEDS... JUST PRAY SHE WILL OVERCOME! *THANK YOU!

I have been away for a while
fasting the internet again.
I had two friends in need.
These are their stories....

Gail ~~~^♡^

She called me in the evening
In great abiding pain
Feeling very dizzy
Her strength was on the wane.

I took some time to pray with her
So she'd not feel alone
I felt it was important
As we spoke on the phone.

The next day I got a call
Ecstatic as can be...
To tell her tale, it was Gail!

She was now *PAIN FREE!

I'd actually felt that spirit leave!
You may find this odd
But my own illness went away!

Hallelujah, GOD!



Grace ~~~^♡^

Grace had strong emotions.
A greatly disturbed mind
She felt that hate would not abate
It had her in a bind!

Her anger had her chained
Unforgiveness had her bound
We prayed for an hour
For peace to be found.

I knew God had the answer
That He would approve
I prayed right on the line with her
And felt the Spirit *MOVE.

I just got off the phone with her
Not only was there PEACE...
But now there is tremendous JOY

She felt complete RELEASE!!!

There is SO much power
In the sanctity of prayer
It MUST be used, and not abused

*IN ALL OF OUR AFFAIRS!

When a friend brings in some food
It's bad, but you can't tell.
You may eat, but don't repeat!

*You'll spend the day UNWELL!

Stitched on a sequined black velvet
  Cerulean pearl swirls on the skirt
    Of a whirling dervish
      He dances between Venus and Mars
        Creating mandalas of exquisite
          Enlongated ~ enlightened ~ energy
        Encircling ~ embryonic ~ eccentric
      Eclectic ~ elliptical
    Entropy? Eulogy?

*Earth.

Wood, twisting iron, wresting  
Incumbent wind of an idiom.
Nomenclature learned in
Direct proportion to the
Clicking of clavichords, the
Harmonics of harpsichords, the
Iconoclastic rather than
Memes which disavow the
Etherial. For a breath of air is
S*pirit. Striking the bells of the *SOUL.

SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/19/2017

Blindness haunts the king who seeks
In vain do riches question
- but-
A beggar with a poor man's coat
Receives the greatest wisdom.

We, of sound and sturdy mind
Sniff rich bouquets of vanity
-but-
Fine wine is pressed by she who raves
Her hems stained with insanity.

Old men would have learn'd much
Had they been thus styl'd
-and-
There are no wiser phrases brought

Than those of a child.

There he goes! He's quite a sight!
He's an Ace... a STAR!
The life of him! It's 3 at night
He's just pulled from the bar
He'll blind you... ***** your light
Anywhere you are
Is he cool?... or a blight
He'll **** you with his car....

Rattletrap Cadillac
He's bad to the bone
Rattletrap Cadillac
He goes it alone
Rattletrap Cadillac
He should be goin' home
Rattletrap Cadillac
He'll hit you... then he's GONE.

He just got his SSI
So he's good to go
Drinks as much as he can buy
Hard liquor, don't you know
Has to give driving a try
And he don't go slow
When it comes to DUI
He star's up the SHOW!

[chorus]

The Grim Reaper on the road
He got drunk & stank
He ain't scared... a gun to load
And he ain't shootin' blanks
Jail may be his abode
If he weren't so rank
As to hit, and then just GO
Cuz he drives a tank!

Rattletrap Cadillac
He's bad... he's NATIONWIDE!
Rattletrap Cadillac
With Jack Daniels on his side
Rattletrap Cadillac
Because he won't decide
To hit some trees...
or give up his KEYS
AND GIVE UP HIS PRIDE!.**


SøuŁSurvivør
(C) 4/18/2017

An Inca Dove flies to and fro
Landing graceful in my yard
Grist for any poet, bard
Her cooing soft and low.

Warm gray body, flash of wing
Whatever does she do?
I see her as her task ensues
She does a constant thing.

Back and forth the small bird flies
Of this I can attest
She pulls grass for her small nest
Right before my eyes!

I've been sitting here for hours
Thinking on my dreams
Lazily, or so it seems
For that bird builds her tower!

She goes by instinct, like the ant
Who burrows in the soil
Ever constant with her toil
'Til she would sit and pant!

While I do nothing in my seat
She flies away, and then
She comes for grasses yet again
Until her nest's complete!

Would that all the warring nations
Sit down to agree
To make the people warring-free
With such dedication!

Emulate the gentle dove
She slaves to rear her young
She works away and softly sung

Her song of purest LOVE.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 4/18/2017