sensual is the casual touch of life's playground
the back of a hand on a thigh
a lip on an earlobe
an eye to eye rush
a cry sounded out
from blue seascapes to misty  mountains
from the tops of trees to the burrows of furry things
night and day onward rushes
with sensuality
touch soft and hardnesses in the dark
frittered forces familiar
to every two four eight legged
finned
bipedal and quadri and non
forever
it gives birth to life

sitting conjuring pretty
I came up with visions
of a hill

past forever my never keeps coming up
the future an oblong stretched when or if
into the sunrises counted as birthdays the
alone celebrations with too much
balloon airing candle lit not blowing
burnt out in wax sulfur matches
and carmel
clowns and paradigms
wound up like coocoo clocks
set to go off all
at once

threads borne onto wind like
spiders fly
off to Kalamazoo
or Greensburg
try
to make a home of substance
more centrified
like a cocoon
all cozy where
the grass is green the water sweet
the creek near
flowers grow wilder than in any envelope
of valentines
oh Bryan randomly Ohio I chose
to take my duffel pack to
open it
on the main street the boulevard
put out my sign
heart in need of healing
and await
see what happens

which cigarette wants me to smoke it
I reach in and they jump out
cats in the hat
packs of wolves no good
like wine left in the bottle
a mistake can't decide
which evil is worse
smoking in the ash tray
the red or white wine
sipped from the tea glass
the picture of Oz framed hung in the middle
of the frontroom
the glass menagerie
arranged  to chafe at
the imagination of a writer
the vapor wrung out
sponge sitting on the teapot
one small magnet on the refrigerator door
of an elephant

he stood at the door caching kudos and high fives
the life of the party the guy at the end of the party
had the lampshade on not much else but a red grin and nose
he was invited to every one
for his brusk take no names personality
he never knew a stranger
then one day he stopped answering the door his phone emails
everything
I found out two weeks later he had met loud Sarah Rubricon
her of the store bought **** and long *** legs
and they had eloped to Vegas
where they are now performing
at Little Ceasar's Pizzeria
just down from the
big names
I am happy  for them and Sarah
by god happy she met her match
she haunted me for  two years
but I miss that Joseph
when I throw a party , it is not the same
anymore.

woke up late sweaty moist tired
hurried to get my clothes on brush my teeth
ran out without my phone
came back and fed the kids
the labrador and the three musty cats
grabbed my phone
ran out forgot my keys
came back and changed their water dishes
brushed my teeth again to insure
the beer breath was at least minty
went out again started the van
and decided to say **** it all
I have cash
tomorrow I will do the work
today I am gonna
lay around like a lazy cat or labrador and
if someone knocks on the door
I may pant but I ain't getting up

Thou shalt not envy your lack of emojis
nor covet others abundance of cute
little doodads!

I have seen
beauty indeed,
a fair maiden proudly giving me her bounty
a mountain far off upon a golden horizon
the breath of earth misty upon the calm sea
a calm word from a strong man to a hurt child
a stranger helping an old woman across the street
homeless vagabonds hugging and sharing one piece
of bread in the snow
a four legged friend faithfully guarding
his human child awaiting the bus
two birds feeding worms to their young
and a lion nurse an orphan gazelle, god yes,
I have seen beauty indeed. And heard her name in nature's churches,
in temples of the streets, in heavens on earth.

some cliches I love
are Grass is greener
on the other side,
side of the blade the down side of the grass
or oh, the fence
I get it,
You can't judge a book by it's cover,
no unless   it has been worn down by fingers and torn on the edges
thereby knowing it has been read and it must be good,
but in the bigger sense, the metaphor, I get it,
What doesn't **** you makes you stronger,
NOT!
Several things have not killed me, like water,
***** , head, a joint, cold beer and tv.
Stronger from their indulgences , i don't think so.
Ignorance is bliss. Now this is on the line.
I can see the childhood references and the grown wanting to be a kid again,
but with knowledge , comes the power to at least try to change.
I did love being ignorant.
This one I truly believe,
There is no time like the present.
Now then who could disagree?

that when death approaches your life flashes
it flickers  and if you live it triggers something
more, an urge ,
the crash avoided -the ditch thru which  you around the car the
telephone pole fishtailed just right
and came out spitting earth mud dirt everywhere
but stumbled to the corner
where you stopped , took it all in,
and saw the inevitable collision felt
and heard the smash
of metal and breaking glass
like it happened
but you somehow avoided
and it soaks in to you
makes you feel
somehow gifted or warned
a call to be aware
so you cry your way home in shock
in awe you saw the car right there
no way you could swerve at just the right time and miss
then the ditch you slid into sideways
mud flying everywhere
saw the telephone pole right there
and you somehow missed it too
saw in those instances snapshots
stop action the people in the car
faces that pulled out in front of you
their horror reactions
felt the bang before it happened
crashing metal and glass crumbling
then when that did not happen , somehow
the mud spattering as you fishtailed
into a ditch headlong to a pole standing forever there
and it was not that poles time.
I shivered and cried after , I don't know why.
But I remember during the sliding the tires squealing thinking
I want to hear her say I love you
one time more.
And make a difference
somehow
someway.

the bass voice singes the air
the woman counters with her
lullabye
the strumming guitarist plucks
the air with moss and gravel
the singers sing of breath
unravel the mysteries in the dark
there amidst the gathering crowd
the footbeats
the feeling begins
half of the world stops
the rest keeps on spinning
tapping round the
clouds so clear the mystery unwoven
just feel
and heart and air and earth

am I to do now, grab a train the next one out,
is the answer , to where the man asks,
to where the whistle blowing takes you,
the man looks bewildered worried,
will it be a place more forgiving,
not our worry the chorus rises,
so he rode out of town, until
he got tired of being the outcast
stood up,
thing is this is not an old story,
it is now,
then the backlash came
the hate thrown back at the  hated
they stood in awe thought they were powerful
but,
the righteous shall overcome  
came a louder chorus
and so it was
the tables turned
even though they did not want them to
the righteous and right shall overcome some day,
watch out.

for then we looked long back at history
found we were not exactly gracious or forgiving
then we looked at today and saw
by **** the same old hates rise up again
tell me when to open my eyes and read the constitution
again all men created equal
where is this more perfect union?
might this be the last breath of prejudice
the last sign of the
confederacy?
This day we seek prosperity
good will to all yet
a minority have hijacked our will our
morality to give a last call to idiocy and prejudice.
Can we make it through. I pray
we do.

far wide overseas and here
my kin are so ingrained    in me all phases
of them the Irish
German Dutch Cherokee
Heinz Fifty Seven and more
I am a mutt
don't know one person here who isn't
so take claim
to nothing all you
traditionalists that cry for
America's sovereignity
it ain't so
we all mixed
not a pure American here more than me
or anyone

the nearest wayfarer on his shoulder
the next nayer-do-well on the back
bring the waif hungry a meal
the latest slacker a snack
for it does do good I am proof
of someone having a bit of faith
in someone caught up in their own
betrayal
their own lack of
faith or just down for a while
a bad luck streak
and it causes others
this knack
for helping others
to bring back
a good heart and a sense of hope
the give until it hurts need I seem to
live to fulfill
I was down once
black was light
I was without
and people helped me then
I was hurt and hopeless
and saw light in their eyes
I live the rest of my life
trying to pay that back

a special dispensation a secret trust
funded by a fairy crack mother
on her last bust she netted a whole
family of worthy *******
down on their luck for me to say hello to
aide as I could,
I get a rush
like today
I saw a guy had been hanging out downtown,
with a military duffle bag
for two days , looked bad off, same clothes,
so I got hungry
headed off to Mcd's and thought of him there
on that corner,
I bought four egg mcmuffins and two hot coffees
came back and he was gone,
no telling where he went, I felt bad my
special dispensation had gone for naught.
My cats and dog sure liked  
the extras given them.

dollars don't blush
around this time of night
rhymes don't work at twelve
midnight
science is all street
and biology and urges talk
the arithmetic is quaint and simple
twenty here for that
adds up to
another hit
I been taking notes
except in English
class

last night tripping
on some
cowpasture harvested mushrooms
a straw so slim and long I could pluck a star
out the sky at random
then I choked
coughed a min,
tried to  **** Jupiter's rings off her ***,
it was eye zapping
and enlightening for suddenly
I had rings around me head,
gonna leave alone that other planet,
that one that rhymes with sinus, for
I didn't even see her bend over.

over the parade the clouds grew threatening
blacker
rain was an inevitability
so I invited all the ten people at the
Clayhatchee Christmas parade to my house
where we made egg nog
roasted chestnuts
later after we all had a buzz
we toilet papered
the mayors trees
she lives next door
matter of fact
she was there helping
we have a good community
for a southern redneck outpost.

the salt breeze air the smallest things
the vapor song on valleys in the morning hanging veil like
misty air
wonder what they hide
there
the green trees on the edge
of the forest the of an overgrown untouched
someone or something
I travel wondering
mystic like
almost so many things wondrous to expose
these years days or moments
i have left
so I sit in the van
trying to stay between the lines
when I have
this urge to
veer

never a doubt my preference
for dreaming of a muse before paying the rent
or walking along the river and seeing
the nymphs I dream of playfully naked singing
a tune
instead of going to work
again
hiding in the bushes to watch
birds coo
or climbing the highest tree
to view an ocean in the middle of Alabama
I make up
several  mermaids populate this sea
along with serpents
vitriolic pirates sailing away to rob the
scalliwag English
in the Pub about midnight after visiting regions
of my mind
I take sense and remember last time
I had my last pint
too early,
Friday was a scant paycheck, so...

the other side is heads
when dark is here
light is around the globe
blank is full
lonely is fulfilled
spin the coin on it's side
and for a while it is neither
try to comprehend all that is known
and you spin
try to love and you may
comprehend
just fall
and know
heads nor tails
determines
anything

in the semi-drowsy state of normal drunkenness
I sat and understood
for once why asphalt is black
but grey in the sun
why shadows don't cast any
and green is many shades
of grass tree envy colored on spectrums
widely various
the canvas comes white
already
blank and perfect
it is our duty
as artists
I suspect
to bespoil and smirch her virginity
color her with the yellow
of jealousy
the red of our blood
bled onto
the grey of uncertainty
a blue sky
someday

is it the platitude of the high valley grown with
meadow flowers and endless beauty
or the valley desolate
strewn with rocks and rubble
or somewhere in the shadows awaiting
us to sneak up and grab her
between the highest peaks the valleys gorge
the mist filled semiphores the
closed callous alleys of the dead back city
the metaphors of black death lingering
it takes a poet
to change life into a
sunset
it takes words and meanings to give hope
to a lost freeway an overpass an
overgrown lot sitting vacant
and it takes human beings to actually feel
one  day for that
to overcome their own
biases their views and make
more stunning the next sunrise or dappled creek
the colors of an inner city come alive
with breath with attitude.

once an old man taught me, his knowing
whether he realized it or not,
he showed me love and affection ,
when I didn't deserve it.
He stood by me even though I was
a down in the dirt dereliction,
not worthy of any one's
caring love or attention.
He must have been a wiser one than me.
Now I know he was.

so I take a break from being profound , a
minute to be whom I am,
a minute to be real for you,
for all no favors needed,
if not for all you nice people here
on Hello Poetry,
there is no telling where I would be,
so take heed again, at my admonishment,
perchance or don't, you
all are great people , even those who nitpick or make
sly remarks,
that is part of life
and you have given
me one. Thanks!

once sane twice bitten
leaves never fall far from the tree
I sit and await

One life to Live and Search For Tomorrow
Guiding Light and All My Children
my mom was an addict
watched them all like it was real
once stood up fast while she was ironing
to , I guess, a startling turn on
The Edge of Night
and the iron fell off the board and I looked up
and it was  inches away and
I swerved somehow,
missed me.
So I had no need for General Hospital.

once my eyes close and my breath levels
focus lost and the mind takes over
in that rest that peace that respite from daily ****
turmoil and hate expectations and turmoils
becomes a place where dreams are focused
on calming that inner doubt that hard
demand of other's judgements
that Eden like apple and a field of dreams
collide make
me whole again
and I wake , if I ever do , from Heaven again,
and try to get through
a day again,
until my eyes can close
once again.

like an insomnia this blood thirsty demon
controlling my urges
the pulse rages the want surges
reality falls off the edges
and the earth spins round making me dizzier
addicted to so many substances and abuses
right round if I ever get
to that corner and turn
then I will be
I swear
a good human

can't the counting stop?
the Birthday parties every other day it seems
just be balloons and presents
and cake, ice cream
flowers and sunrises
put into a memory book,
an unwound clock stopped
at 29?

long hair around my neck
a red complexion
my grandfather would have never
approved of my predilection
for words instead of action
he stands in my memory so tall
white haired then and chiseled
face and faction
a man of Cherokee stance
and action, had markers and hates he stood
fast to, no other way to act he said,
kept Grandma pregnant
her whole life, until she had that attack,
and lay paralysed her last years of breathing,
then he kept up with her nurse,
and climbing pruning trees till he was 93.
He fell fast , one September,
like a limb he had pruned from an oak,
fell hard to the ground under
a hot sun, his whole life devoted
to family and heritage.
He might not approve of me, being so
magnamious in forgiveness.
It has to end some day, though.

all I can do is
feel, feel sorry for you,
for me , for humanity

have to love that note, extant
of that song I heard at a concert
ten years after
that note still brings
me to the verge of ecstasy.

That way the cymbals crashed
in rhythm pure simplicity
yet keeping beats
in contrast to the
melody.

The singers sang played
dancing 'round the stage in choreographed
complexity,
the meanings then seemed to jump
at me.

The whole thing a passion play
on my cortex on my brain,
on my sensibilities
my heart my foot
would not stop
tapping.

And there , amidst a crowd of strangers
stranger feelings overcome, the meek me the afraid to feel
and I danced wild feeling now,
the rhythm beat understood it all for
one time one second , how
I felt and breathed and tapped a foot
and heard everything.

It was magesty and corporeal
******* all at one.

in her room about the doorway peeps
out at her hearing things
she has been this way before hates
how it feels
the paranoia
just there is nothing else
feels the urgency of another day
almost ready to be her angel she thinks
one hit and it all
goes down the way it has before
no relenting the urge she speaks  
to unrequeited loves and more

she sits alone on the floor at two thirty
picking her skin for bugs and the floor for one last hit
sorry for his insistence
I gave her twenty dollars more

it is all I could do

I am a frisbee
a boomerang
a stone bounced across the pond
I am the sand between my toes

bounded only by my imagination ,
my goals,
my sight my neurosis                
a slight handicap

when free to roam I seek
the highest tree climb
as high far up as i can
possibly be

my eyes cannot focus on all
the beauty
here from higher ground
they see peace and love
everywhere

I climb and seek companions
to tread the hill the high mansions
god has left for us together

they are abounded by imagination
empathy and feel
gated by greed lust and hate
you have to climb your
way over that

and there it is
I see it now
a small light burdened by our doubt
cresting ,
trying to that hill over there,

grasp hands hope, imagine everyone,
force can be used for good
if leveled is  the playing field.

the train came into the station a loud rush
people hurried again
getting off and on
luggage and people scurried
a roar

the bus rushed to the bus stop
air brakes hissing
one lady got on
two got off in a
rush to go where

seems travelling is our ambition
go from here to there
ethereal maybe
how I just sit and watch

no rush
I hate the pressure of air brakes and train
whistles
I like sitting and
watching it all

the lovebirds coo
on the wire overhead
the trees swish in the breeze
like a cymbal swooshing in
the greatest song ever

I get where I want to
eventually
and the train has a schedule
the bus too,
I am more like the
lovebirds

just on time forever

I do feel good doing good
makes a tear come to my eye but a
tear of happiness when I say something
nice to the old man brutally scowling
and smile at his Harumph
when I deliver a valentine to
that old woman down the road with the hundred cats
a valentine of a bag of feed for her brood
good I feel when I put another man's shoes on
look through his eyes for a second
walk 100  feet in them
good when I see a mom that really cares
for her children
the smiling health care workers
overcome by heartrending stories and
dead patients
and they keep doing it
the  teachers
who daily come up with clever ways to teach our future
with limited  resources
the garbage man
mundane and stinky task who smiles
as he totes the refuse
from here
the baker the police the
calm helpful  voice
on the help line for my cable company,
almost apologetic for the latest outage,
the workers who after a storm go out and repair our lifelines in bad
weather,
any of you retail clerks , who smile through the increasing workload week after week within shorter hours,
the receptionist
at any office.
It takes patience..

won I did i saw I came I overcame I conquered
none of the words they said the slings and arrows
had any effect
they stood in my way
I stood in defiance
walked right through
head held high
my chest out protruding
my best tough face on
walked straight through 'em

on the other side I thanked my mom and dad
for telling me so
many times how  I am equal to anyone

as strangers eyes meet early in the morn
rushing to get the  blur out at the coffee urn
in the corner convenience store
all hushes come across as bitter
looks until that first sip
of java hits
many I suppose
who cross my path early are
reliving that first crack pipe hit

mind the little victories
much as you might how the sting
of hurt does
it just takes willpower
a pill and a lot of beer

myst memorized in the last glimpse
I remember it all
our last kiss embrace
your smell is on my pillow
will never go
that sailboat we came across
walking barefoot in the sand
all empty until we filled our souls up in it
and every time you asked me after
if I wanted to go sailing I smiled
the time we met on the pier
our eyes gleaming in the Florida sun
we talked for hours about everything
space continuity
rationality
hippies and the next coming
christ and the devil
when I last saw you
that random occurence
you happened by as I walked down Beal Street
I saw your arms around him
on the back of that Harley
and you happened to turn my way and smile
I wonder now was it
the smile
remembering
or
you are better now?

I am sleeping when i am dying
and nobody would know a difference
and the sun would come up as bright
the world would turn with
or without me
rain would fall
and my pretend grave
would be garnished
with weeds and neglected
yet,
I bought myself a rose today
came in a glass tube
it burnt
my obituary
I got high as a kite and passed out
and thought of
them, again

just getting a rush that blush of ***
the first play of the game the homer touchdown
the goal started on the way
must continue that way forever until

cheerleaders dance kick legs up
the band marches along the sidelines
forming a parade
of excitement starts builds

up the crescendo the rush
again rises to a crowd cheering *******
crazy rise above the bleachers
onto the streets

spills out wildly
uncontrolled onto Bourbom street
onto First Avenue
in the dawn the tires burn

little half grown girl
has no company to play with
no pets or toys
lives by her wit again

begins the day by
kicking pebbles along the path
no direction
just any which way to

fro off the side
counting their bounces as they go
down to the grass
off the path they are now

nothing better
to count on mom numb dad long gone
frowns seem as sad
as pebbles do when kicked

there is this thing in society now that begs description
like Extra Sensory Perception it has it's roots in
mentality
the richest are getting richer
and we want to believe in a billionaire
to fix all that?
I call that Extra Sensory Deception,
but anyway I am not political,
I gave him, a chance

I've got half around the bounds the sounds
the circle sphere the noted atmosphere and feel
the dizzy echoes lingering here in
this wounded stratosphere
the cries of puppies make me whimper
the lonely kittens purr
the baby humans the utmost catastrophe
but no one seems to join me way above the common
clouds and skies  they get weighted down in
bits and bytes
textual minutes and data here,
not actual feeling things,
no more, they see it all as
graphic interchanges on Facebook or twitter his
and it all bites my ***,
makes me angry, such feeling goes almost
unnoticed in this time ,
this day this
temperature.

to be myself that funny feeling
within the crying baby what do you
think of me in this
crying sobbing
supposed to be strong
the willing dreams the night
how do you feel to
see me vulnerable
and weak
I play the G-string
on my guitar make it sing
and cry        for  you  only

drunk as  a monk in the wine cellar
transcribing, the ethereal greek collections,
scribe the father, the mother as saints,
the wisdom more so then
than now, the fairytales,
the basest psalms , Eden apple colored
and the Ark , i get confused ,
was that a ship or a covenant?
Burning bushes then
in our time two,
once in a while,
I question myself,
seems  like heathens never do.