Daily Archives: March 17, 2023

When Lennon Died

sleeping dreaming
waking waking
speaking how they run
from Light

I’m sitting upon a clover
with 4 leafs — and i heard
I am the Walrus by Beatles

I’m crying

Dead yellow postman with
a letter from Lennon
he wrote it before he was
shot dead — we are walrus

It’s expert text-men
exploring futures government
and religion are egg – men
they cough | what do we do
when love is away? At the
end of the day we’re on our own
and we get help from our friends

Do you need anybody?
could it be anybody?
Somebody to love.

do you need anybody?
Just body to love
and i get by with
my friends

with a little help
from my friends!

:: 923,16,2923LL

Jazz Club

In the smoky jazz club at night,
I hear the sound of my guitar.
Its strings come alive in the light,
Guiding me near and far.

Playing for the masses in the room,
But my heart beats only for you.
Our love is like a jazz tune,
Sweet and soulful, tried and true.

Oh, no, not that again,
Love rears its head once more.
But I’ll play through the pain,
And let my guitar do the score.

After gigs, I come home alone,
But my guitar keeps me company.
It’s the only love I’ve ever known,
And it’s always faithful to me.

They say love is a flower,
Beautiful and buried deep.
But for me, it’s the power
Of my guitar, my love to keep.

Oh, well, I’ll keep on dreaming,
Of a love that’s sweet and true.
And while my guitar keeps beaming,
I’ll keep on playing for you.

Love may be a punch in the heart,
But my guitar helps me through.
With its soulful jazz art,
I’ll keep on loving, just like I do.


and the man ate her
the jaguar between her legs
a beast heavy upon her stomach.

Licking and smelling
tasting Life

Became then the man
deep inside her thoughts
forgiving pain for pleasure

for higher heaven

Came the angel
fighting the human

Lovers entwined.

:: 03.17.2023 ::

A Hundred Poems XLV

and what of that desire
a pouring rain, from the heavens,
fall through funneled skies —
a splatter upon my roof
slanted tiles /\/\/_stacked.
Yet, another journey in the fall
; the figural shaped as my heart
& tears seep into me that
ground of my spirit
a | split
thunder-lightning: show my face
from celestial eyes came tears
as an arrow –>– my own eyes
which are that target
your tears pierced into
of countryside haven
to find a home
within my lonely soul
i kiss the tears
that bare your fire.

:: 04-09-2014 ::


WHAT fear that burns!

That all the eye can see
a morning bird upon a tree
such burning truth, that melody!

Sweeping morning clear the night
erasing visage of thick-white fog
and the mortal souls that fought
who is now lost within last night
upon this beautiful day
if mourning light i remember.

:: 06-13-2014 ::


NATURE decrees the natural course
of life’s season of repose,
between the first light of sunrise
and the fullness of maturity that grows.

A role that scorns the youthfulness
of life, and extracts a toll,
not on the spirit, but the flesh,
as we strive to attain our goal.

And yet, in this period of calm,
when the world seems to take a breath,
there’s a chance to reflect and renew,
to gather our strength and move ahead.

For the stillness of nature speaks volumes,
and in its silence, we can hear
the whisper of our own soul’s calling,
guiding us through the coming year.

So let us embrace this season of pause,
let us honor the wisdom it brings,
as we prepare for the new day to dawn,
and the cycle of life begins again.

revised: 02.26.2023 ::

Light My Cigarette While I Cut my Wrists

And absolutely maybe if wings flew
without a bird’s body and the air lifted ground
as outer space filled inner spirits!
then all things might be
equal and if so then what?


Which is arguably a ‘something’
less than 1 but greater than less than zero.


The devil’s insidious plot to madden the human mind with
intangible monsters that chip away at the glass floor we
all ignore and rarely look down upon
we might see the super-structure of reality then.

What then?



In spring’s sweet season, when the earth is drenched
With mud and rain, the little balloon-man
Hobbles along, and in a voice that’s clenched
He whistles far and wee, a curious plan

And Eddie and Bill come running from play
Their marbles and their games now cast away
For in the air, a strange delight does sway
And in the heart, a thrill that wants to stay

When the world is drenched in wonder-pools
The queer old balloon-man takes to his tools
Whistling far and wee, he seems a fool
But in his eyes, there’s wisdom, for he rules

Betty and Isbel come dancing along
Skipping and jumping, the world’s now a song
For in their hearts, they feel a wondrous throng
A sense of joy that nothing could go wrong

And then there comes the goat-footed man
Whistling far and wee, like he’s part of a clan
His voice sends shivers, like a part of a plan
And in our souls, we feel a change that began

In spring’s sweet season, when the world is new
The balloon-man comes, a friend that’s true
Whistling far and wee, he makes our hearts renew
And in his presence, all things become askew

:: 03.16.2023 ::

The Voice

A mournful melody slowly spins
out from the keys, a mournful hymn
that lingers in the air, sad and long

notes rise and fall, in graceful sway
as if to mimic the ebb and play
of a gentle breeze that stirs the night

but beneath the surface, there lies
a deeper pain, a hidden prize
in each note, a whispered plea
for something more, for love to be

and so the music flows and weaves
a tapestry of sound that grieves
for all that’s lost, for all that’s gone
for every heart that’s been undone

yet in the midst of all this pain
a sense of hope, a sweet refrain
that rises up, like dawn’s first light
chasing back the endless night

and as the nocturne ends, its tale
of love and loss, of heart’s travail
in its wake, a glimmer bright
of hope, of love, of endless light.

:: 03.16.2023 ::

War is a Broken Heart

Sweet humming, these smiles serene
Like waters cascading in your eyes so green
A bell tolls in hopeful wishes
On verdant Irish Earth that glimmers and glistens

Echoes of lust splatter and ring
A longing that burns with fiery sting
Their arms not as long as mine
Dreaming armies of love, I should have entwined

An accord of peace I yearn to find
With you, my lover, a heart once aligned
We said pain, a feeling without name
But we tried to bear the weight of its shame

Now I know war is a heart that bleeds
Never ceasing, it plants its seeds
Until you remember the love we shared
Once intertwined, our hearts once paired.

:: 03.16.2023 ::