heavens getting full up
so where are we to go?
The dump is a possibilty
but closes the gate at five
parks are off limits after dark
has to be somewhere twenty-four seven for us
needy souls just short of perfect
all night cafe's are out
too greasy their fare is
not healthy for those
looking to be eternal
(can you imagine the waistline if)
not a musuem open past seven
how about we stand in the street
down at First Avenue
well lit and speed limit is 35
Police visit there every ten minutes
unlike the projects
and they tend
not to pull their guns
in this part of town

funky music ***** tonks
girls with no shoes
perfume
necks elbows every ****** thing
earrings
a girl dancing
Medicinal herb
a back beat
beating down  
cymbals
special things that
get down

conscience
through every one of my lifes
accrued
lichens symbiotically
serve  as
a metaphor
I rely on organisms
they rely on
me

I take him out
every now and again
he has to breathe get air
see the moon
see her smile by god
he is has always been
shut up
zippered in
cloistered
he deserves a day in the sun
I only let him out alone
late at night right
after a full moon

liquor woman
the brandy of desire
so cute in a sniffer
I've held your taste
in my mouth so long
I taste your aftertaste
that woman taste
the rush of heat on my tongue
the roar going down
chase you with kisses of beer
a cigarette
feel you warm
insides
tender
hot as the fire
of the holy ghost the
****** mary the
three things I give time to
in my throat on my lips
in my desire

my plan was
to be honest be good feel
be human
I fail at times
some people are *******
and it's kind of hard
to love them like
my dog and cats love me
so far
I seem to love
more than I did before
I set forth this plan
I love you

never one to leave a hanging participle
or a dangling precipice
eleven words in
I have done both
so so
really I care about English protocols
unless I am
writing
speaking I speak
the King's English
full of it
with a southern flair
the howdy pardner
and fittin' to
the hey
always emulating  
a hello
as such
more
than tradition I call out of
this
sorriness
a down home
warmness
or try to
since we are on this
thread
Hey Y'all!

three wishes granted
stolen from the masses
I guess
I wished for
ten million
years of peace
houses and food  for all
water flowing
I felt odd
as if I might wish
wrong

then we die death stands at the end
for everthing all
ten walls high no going around
over nor under
no wealth stops
no tunnel under
we face it
eventually
I am scared
not of my death
but losing those I care for
to that eventuality
so I run

fast and hard and one day
it will catch up to me

coincedences collide with strong wills and good lives
at times
once per month
per Littlewood
I as a fool believe
this section has no division
nor proofs
just faith and
predeliction

needs desires possibilities
no one can defend
rationally
leave them I wish
somehow someday
just when
I look forward wondering
another life
possibly
the life I am a flower
a tree
a milled seed
food for all
powder

there it went gone
just out of reach
the melody the song
a bit of a tease

I had the lyrics down
for one second then
they ran away long gone
left wondering I was of when

I might cause memory to
make a note somehow
list my dreams so
bring to the forefront now

or sometime soon that
so vexes my soul
my sometime has
a limited role

then I thought
but I am always lucent
thought with doubt
carefree heaven sent

and I rhymed one time
not meaning to
spoke in signs
deeper meanings do

break the rhythm
the seance
the hymn
sings by itself

if you listen
hard

merrily I strode along the boardwalk
listening to footsteps echo wood
out to the edge of the sea
calming sea and steps on it
awaiting her
to meet me there
her
to come out her mermaid
persona
give me one kiss
let me touch her scales
weigh her
then I realized
I was dreaming again
as I stepped off the bed
into reality
and she was there
we talked without words
drifted on seabound shoes
held hands and she
had to go
but
I stole a kiss
I glowed and she was
unclothed
just like my dream
as she slid back into
the water below
I wanted to
follow
but I did not
now I wish I had

one wing she fluttered
sideways down to me
caught her in my right hand
softly
fluttered and fought
my grasp
this was life I wondered
how might I fix it
but I couldn't
she died in my hand
I turned it all
into philosophical
ramblings
about how I might feel obligated
to save others
then said hell with all that
psychological  mumbo jumbo
it was a sparrow
hurt and alone
and I held her
that is all
and she passed
in my grasp

rabid dog like passions
loose on the lawn at two thirty in the morning
but the breeze around us
found out two weeks later
of our audience
got the review
it was nice
all they said

gathering in the usual way my tools
hammer and chisel
cordless screwdriver in my jeans'
another day begins
fashioning smooth words
right angled articles
taut windows clear
roofs of gold
and miracles
the radio of a working man plays
one ear to rock and rolling thunder
in another

we rode to work together
Steve and I, Steve a true believer
in his second coming
and I a born again atheist
awkward at least
that he had the bad habit
of smoking up all his money
in eightballs and ******
and I was content to help
a fool like that
buy cigarettes
and coffee
that morning

ten 'til twelve now
thoughts etch holes in my fingertips trying
to make it all rhyme or legible
eyelids droop and the call
incessantly drives me wilder wider far
off where I had thought I would be
at now nine 'til twelve now

sky stealing the puffy candy clouds
higher than ever hands swollen with rewards
of earthly gains treasures
gold sans beauties galore lined up
but several toofless hags and once were
cuties
silver stored in pockets of quarters dimes heavy
nickel galore
a one time dollar torn in two
the wrapped ice dripping down
the back of my throat
holds her interests
so she calls me big dawg and honey
as we look weird at each other
me drinking a beer
her a seven-up
fondling her purse antsy
it seems
I go out on the balcony and puke on a Porsche three stories
down
then gather my wits and jump too

lay my body to rest
weary of hammer splintered hard work
i tell my mind to rest
and it doesn't
I turn and think of her
and that promise
feels like my nail pouch digging in my side
again
the vest and bow tie that day
comes to my mind
then ten years later
still tossing and turning
every night
hurt by more than hard work
and splinters in my hand
this carpenter
jackleg
has pain from
his heart and memories
that won't
go away

not suddenly a tree where
it was there
standing tall the oak is

searched for her it all on city streets
behind the tall buildings in the alleys
in late neon lights the boulevards haunting
searching for her  meaning
in a country town
in row after row of cornstalks
red clay worn out towns
beaten down red barns
freshly tilled dirt off to the horizons where the
windbreaks give respite to nature
wild grows still, now,
snakes inhabit the cities as well
as the scrub oak overgrowth
critters hide behind fallen trees here
a dumpster there
salvation seems everywhere
I haven't looked yet
so I gather my sack of
pictures , the arrow on a chain,
silver given me years ago by
her, my ghost whisperer
my boots
and try again to
seek her out

simply paradise
wherever she is
that is where
I long to be

come when you have to face reality
hard it can be as iron frozen
like a tongue stuck to a pole
in December at the top of the world
with your pants down turn around
see others for the first time
their faces eyes starving just as much as yours
then say I am sorry
breathe once in a while
instead of chasing that goal
of things you can hold but not
ever take from here with you

always churning the dichotomies
what life is light dark
then turning to view the sunset
in your eyes  
the view
changes into
heart bursts and sunrises
no matter what time of night it is
stars hold no place in my eyes
nor does a full moon
when glowing I catch
the slight glimpse of gold in
your eyes your soul shines

tell me where you go remember
my eyes as you do
make everyday better in words
call me sometimes
we grew together
that day I liked your poem
that sounded like Whitman reincarnated
the pond like Walden might peruse
you wrote about the reeds
fishes
the eastern side of the pond
and it touched me
like fire in a kiln
I got hardened
more shiny
more aware of life
and love and sacrifices
you have brought me here
to that pond the edge
I look down and now see
all that you have described more beautifully
a thousand miles letters seem to bring us closer together
than ever
and not anything
can ever
make me stop dreaming

if you hoovered the world out
of people and only the good hearts
were left along the baseboards

the sun shined only on good hearted
ones, the rain cleansed the soil,
of all their detritus

the rainbow's end would alight
on you and prove you are golden
days would be parties

then the stars would get in alignment
shooting comets for you
only, as signs

that you are a good heart
and that the world needs more
just like you!

I 've made it through
not by strength size or wit
but karma and a good heart
it tells a story that
perhaps there is a right way
to beat down the Devil
if but for a little
while

the safe feeling
I can be me with you
naked as my birthday
with my smile wide as
you accept me
truthfully honest
eat crackers with the wine
take you in my arms confident
I do please you,
it shows in how we
can be silent for hours
how we just need ourselves
as we are
how the clock is unplugged
no where else to get to
no blushing
just the rush of when you reach out to me
the hairs on my arm stand up
just like the day
I met you

you always had the knack the inspiration
the right karma
never had to ask for permission
just did what you liked
saw your fire burning bright
your talent as a guiding light
then you came crashing down to reality
saw ten million other
stars as bright
and you had that breakdown
took you seems
a thousand years
a long walk through
the fields you missed growing up
to gain that courage again
to try
to make your destiny live
make a place
in this cruel world again
but you perservered
and life is now
your playground
again

not who you thought I was he
not him and her she was but anything I had dreamed
it was but a dream
an uneducated scientifically wild *** guess
that supposition
that predisposition
to make my mind think rationally
put it in the box file it away
categorically
make it seem
like everyday
when it was not Tuesday or
the day I had thought
it was leap day
I leapt to a conclusion
about it her him and
paid nary a **** bit of
thought to the
consequences
or how I might feel were
the supposition on
the other way
suppose I put
my two feet in a boot
you walk in
I consider
the other hand left right uncovered
a slap on

claret soft twilight ministrations of sunsets calling
sacraments of feelings forth serving both happiness
and sad memories both warmth and cold
needs untended
a dozen met thousands
untold
in the fold of silver and gold
mended into the horizon's testament

limbs hanging down leaves all under
naked trees bare their souls
the ground holds her majesty
of a day when she reached to the sky
in full bloom
stood there
proud and accepting
strong to bear the sun's hottest
the winds gale
the loudest thunder
the morning's pale
the dew of droplets on her
a long day dry
the forest around her campaigning for her
part of the sky
and she was proud
tall and unfettered
feathered as a **** in the fight
with spread leafs and limb
up to the greatest
I climbed
her once
she held me strong
aloft on stems on leaf wings to the gods
where I stuttered her praise amidst a breeze
that made her laugh
almost alive

rhymes with just cause
because is just a remedy
signs of the malady
rhyme at times with lazy
or no empathy
times they are a wastin' -someone
oh yes-
Dylan said:
I wish I was Dylan

constance of symmetry headlong bounded
by chance the wierd the happenstance the time
it wanders off course the stray occassions
when ones senses of self has doubt or brief
times when reality seems to cease quit
morph into ten words per line apostrophe

ten days worked alone the texts go undressed
often too much
my lifeline drags a trail in the sand to the edge
of giving
the ambience breaks down many Fridays
waiting listening for
Yes on the radio so,
I sit among the Roundabout, Close to the Edge,
awaiting the Delirium, to catch me
by the gate  
the one the song sang about
me the lone lover of prog left.

the day gone which way and that
I anticipate
a respite
and get
ten million chores and not much thanks
but
at the end I sleep
quite well
for two hours
then begin again
for what
for the day I get to see you

the last leaf holds tight
stem to bark
the wind blows mighty hard

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

catch me when time stops
I will catch you
inevitable, yet a promise

once seen the first star birth the burst
of life into our world
through pain through love's suffering
in my hands held his ******
glow
so       tiny soft        so powerful
his mom nursed him
so beautiful the mother instinct
and all I did was come
supported her enjoyed that glow
had my part in it but felt cheated
by nature
I wanted to be as important as his mama
and I could never
I gave my seed
she gave nine months of her body
so I worshipped her
more than she did
brought forth to this world in her womb
my son
my everlasting star

adrift the sky wandering
of moistness sent to hover here
to shed her tears
as rain on
downwind believers
or satan's kin
it is all just
heat
and pressure
differentials
the clouds are
god in
a way

bring no sad song here or near
our haven darling
no cold winds
just the silken folds
the smile I first saw those lips
the woven truths of love's first bliss
blushing through
the first soft kiss
of lips
on mine

it is not winning that is important
it is not giving in
it is not being the best at anything
but giving it your all
it is not being the richest
it is giving to those needy
it is not being the prettiest
it is being the best you can be
it ain't about winning the race
it's about finishing
It ain't about being popular
it's about respect
not about winning the girl
it's about trying to
it isn't about being happy always
it is about getting through sanely
the low hard times
it is about the trial
the error
that life is
that is wise , smart
true the meaning is to,
this life

saw a rainbow yesterday
from the side of a woman
looking at her sleeping eyes
hair flowing over my shoulder
thigh against thigh
saw the color burst
like the ecstasy last night
on the distance
a prism
into my pillow
I buried my head
looked up and it was still there
real the rainbow
next to me the most gorgeous
golden treasure
there at the end

every saying metaphor simile
has a poet behind it
every sunset tree  mountain
love nest in the trees
too
the curtains of nightfall with
the holes peeping starlights are too
draped by wordsworths
and Michelangelo's of
phrase
every david standing as the
monument of man's glory
every Statue of Liberty every gleaming tower
has one man who cared about his task
enough to make a monument
to us all
just read just glory
in our accomplishments
sing along with the chorus
make a new majesty

busy me
and Missy just lives
I envy her sometimes

her just a dog without responsibilities or bills
catering to the kittens whims
growling

every now and then when
they won't leave her alone

seems I am leaving when I am coming
dying , almost
a discovery
of heaven and earth
the sands of the coast the rocks high up
various places in my mind are predertemined to
make
memories and forecast the next
great moment
urges speak
in parables
***** lurch
as a sheep jumping the fence
I get sleepy then
a cigarette is needed
a hug and kiss
a night together

I
wonder wither why the whipporwhill
whines
a plaintive cry
and the robin shrills
her calling a mate
the daffodil does not make a sound
the rose just stands beautiful
wiregrass grows so bountiful
and corn is hard to make
the season's make a mockery of spring and fall
and winter has become a memory
where tall trees stood proud
and now a thicket
grows of thorns of nettles
I think
of nature
in her way
genius considerate
and man
as a tick a flea
on her back
a bloodsucking
leach

upon every sunset the dew awaits
mornings and the dark creeps up
trees close pores and reconsider
the heat
grass leans over
to the right
bears forage for one more treat
armadillos wake up
possums wipe their eyes
a new day for them
every season has a turn as does dark and light
and nature covers all avenues
of valley lows and dales
of every creek river  misty stream
cloaked in grey
with mysteries teeming and unknown
discoveries
all forseen
but magic
to me