for T.M.R.
our "fellow" southern friend*

the southern way,
she-poet
teaches me
via long distance
breaking of the
braking neural inhibitions of
the loudest silences
that only humans can
mistress

photos, stories,
Facebook posts
how the earth rebirths
taking unasked
unwitting but wisely
both of us
to be refreshed,
so verily
the southern way

sharing worldly  
southern words
betraying a
more than
passing
(how I hate that word)
expertise
in spring colors
glorious to every sense,
best described
as nature's way to humanize what we wordily call
hopeful,
self-betraying herself by the
she -poets
innate
southern ways

calls me
northern boy
in a
true voice,
raconteuring,
quick retorting
always in the midst of
d r a wling stories,
about all crazy frogs
of Columbia County,
jumping multiple courses

all about
she-poets navigating
life erratic,
half ecstatic
yet singularity colored,
characteristic of a  
ninety percent southern
Tennessee whiskey blues

hear clear
she-poets
welcoming swirling
undertow undertones
lying just above the calmest
morning water surface glistening
words betraying nothing,
yet saying
all in
between, in
pauses of
speckling sun drops spectacular

she-poet
has her places
in woods, knolls and
rarely visited mountains
where cold brooks and cold beers
southern sooth
in ways
I will likely,
wanting but unable,
never learn
to hear clear

the southern way
is never flex,
nerve never
never bend, smile,
still fighting
the prior lost cause
ignore the
cracks coverup

until and when
the afternoon sun
ceases to warm
the orchard porch
daylighting no longer
when no one is around
she-poet
weeps out loud alone
in the
southern way

and I,
northern boy,
student witness,
having obtained
a learner's permit
for her teachings
re
the southern wayfaring ways
of living life

weep along side
in my unsatisfactory
northern way,
learning that,
who knew,
tears are also
glue
anywhere

for R.A.
our northern friend*

~
one foot in two countries,
she is enjambment symbolic,
running a single stanza
without a syntactical break,
by standing simultaneous
in two neighboring cultures

causing her dear readers
from near and far,
some, like me,
from across the borderline,
considerable multifarious symptoms
of
well considered verbal confusion

this,
a gifted special talent
from
she
who straddles  
all kinds of borders
that divide
her
and
unite
her,
that
can be understood/revealed tho,
when observing the northernmost night skies

eh?

expert in modulating
extreme snowed under bay
winterized temperatures,
counterpointed by
drivingopen highways
on summer plains
where the dotted line is
all there is to see
for miles, thousandths wide

she-poet
oft goes quiet,
expelling her breath
between word roarings,
gentlest of periodic
verbal sweets

genteel
my word version for her
gentle so,
in a way that
makes gentility
deserve the nobility
inherent

that is the
work word
that always comes first
when we need to place her,
another star
in the night
flying frying
firmament

enjambment - her word

means I am
all in,
with both hands,
resting on both jambs
of an arched window
that she architects,
peering in,
Making Sure,
I have come to the right place

where she-poet
builds skylights of
northern lights,
igniting

adore her sweet
confusion,
but better yet,
her poems
of clarification
that explain all in,
why when,
we
all look up,
thru her
window exquisite
that she
meant
for us

we always first
turn our glacé glance
northwards
strangely, seeking, illogically,
but not really,
warmth
in the she-poets
northern way

Poets comes up with the truth which the world is not ready to hear yet.

They said it was beneath me
"Beneath me"
I'll show them what is beneath this fixture
Of flesh and bone.
Can you walk on shards without cutting,
Making me feel as though this is what I'm worth
Laughing, smiling wailing at my misfortune,
"I'll shut the door on them all"
Awaken my princess of beauty, but you are
Ugly on the inside,
I have skills you didn't know,
I went to medical school,
"What was that you said"
"Cat got your tongue"
No its here cold as your words,
Know do you wish to see something??
"Here is the ugliness inside"
Fear, horror as anaesthesia, wears thin
"Do you feel the disgust in yourself"
"Do you feel what is beneath"
Open mouthed silent scream resonates
Upon her bleeding featurless face,
"Does it hurt"
"Here this should help"
I pour on a solution
Two parts vinegar,
One part salt,
A little water a cup was enough,
"Wow" "Fu#k"
Watch her shuffle and squirm,
As the pain gathers pace,
A tear forms in my eye, I hoped she would
Lasted longer...
O' well next room it is...
Hi welcome to the moment you waited for
"This is what's left of your life"
What can I say, the big man
"Now a little shorter"
A little taken of the bottom and sides
"He goes to grab upon my throat"
"Timber"
"Whoops"
Now aren't we silly lying in a puddle
Of our own blood, I was never that good at stitches.
"Squirm little worm"
Wakey! Wakey! sleeping trunk,
Thought I lost you for a moment,
"Now where were we"
"Fifteen years ago"
Driving having fun, having fun,
"Having ***#ing fun"
"Little rich boy"
"Little rich departed girl"
You paid for your freedom while she was,
"She was trapped below"
I watched the love, the life drain,
You just laughed...
"Who's"
"Laughing"
"Now"
What was that!!!
"Sorry"
"I'm sorry"
"Please"
That's what I thought you said
"No"
"No"
"No"
We are way past sorry, now its time to leave,
I was going to put you beneath,
"Soil" "Earth"
But I thought this was fitting,
Meet your love, the ugly shown
"Underneath"
Now shhh... you'll feel like a little *****.
Wakey! Wakey! sleeping trunk,
Look I found your,  
"Legs"
"Arms"
I had some fun,
Hahaha....
Now these are of my own design,
For people like you, like her.
Don't worry there sound proof,
Unfortunately she'll not feel this
But she felt plenty before she was gone.
This will be slow painful
"I'm not sorry"
"What"
"You"
"Sic"
"Basta"
"I'll ki yo"
I love doing that open, close, open, close.
Sound like musical beat if you time it just right,
"You took her from me"
"You made me what I am today"
Every action has a reaction
And this is yours.
Lets play some authentic music,

"Burning in the ashes"
"Of those that came before"
"Paying for sins of a past forgotten no more"

-Chorus-
"You gone burn"
"Burn so slow"
"Feeling the flame of redemption"
"You going to die"
"To ashes you will slowly go"

"Burning in the ashes"
"Of those that came before"
"Paying for sins of a past forgotten no more"

"Did you like,
"I wrote it myself"
You will not go fast, think
"Slow Cooker"
You will feel pain like never before.
You where the last in a line, of those who did
Me wrong. They say the best is for last,
Everyone else was quick. each their own chorus.
Know that when you are both ashes I will urinate on
Your hot embers, no dignified place,
I will just flush you down the ******
Its where **** does goes and **belongs.

Depersonalization
Derealization
Dissociation
Delusional
Hallucina­tions
Confabulation
Perseveration
persevered.

Clanging
Rhyming
E­cholalia
echolalia.

Paranoia
Ideas of reference
Thought blocking
Internal stimuli
Thought broadcasting
heard
every way
every day.

Mental disorders
or
poets extraordinary

The Paiute anthropologist
locked up on the
inpatient unit
with visions of the ancestors
dancing in his eyes
said
"See these folks
you have locked up,
In ancient days
from the desert hills
they came our way
delivered truths
in their special way.

"Once they had their say
On desert winds
they blew back
up to their hills
away
straight away. "
"Can you please
give me the keys.
I've said what
I had to say. "

Affluence of love
Fills every coffer
Of the heart
Soul enriched
With gratitude
To embrace
The world
With love
Blur the lines
Of discontent
And leave
An indelible legacy

echoes of the days long gone
reminiscing, reminiscing
memories is all you have
before memories is all I had

at 7 I was just a young toddler who enjoyed climbing trees and taking risks

at 15 the world felt more real ,my innocence taken,now am more cautious

at 20 I enjoy studying and hopes to be a doctor are still fresh
but am forced into love, just blinked and am a wife and a mother

here I am crying ,trying to stitch up this broken heart at 27.
Love is not bad but falling in love is horrible,a thought I pondered upon

here i am
Just turned 80
seen enough evil and nasty
experienced love and wonders of this planet
years are lessons
that I tell you