(never should it be the same thing}
I ate the summer sky at night
bending reed and heart
shot the yellow jacket wing
tasted the poison of it’s sting
painted an image of my heart
upon the basin of the Mississippi
and I rode my soul all the way
across the bayou to the City
of Southern sin and drinking
the party that never ends
and I danced with the devil
and sang of Eros and Gomorrah
and god slapped my cheek
daisy faced women cried for me
as they watched my soul sink
back into the mud of the river
that rages within the heart of all
Praise the One who damns us
and the angels weep for all
and I dropped to my knees
wishing I never thought clear
where a world walks in haze
and all mother kill their babies
Is someone going to save us
is anybody going to save the world?
God? devil? Superman?
we need someone who loves
loves the filth of humanity
:: 10-03-2014 ::
a hand and it’s five fingers
each one a story
that gives emotions;
one for love,
when life is frail
the second for age,
when death tries to steal
a third for romance, when life is young
my fourth a prize-gift, she is next to me
and the fifth for Life, which allows me to remember…
life is my sweetest friend
when i go so does my love
it’s the only thing that’s real
and i have eaten pain, so familiar
i tried once, to kill it everyday
spat at the brilliant sun
and dug my heels into the One
and in the end i saw everyone
go away, like the pain i lived
and now, my broken heart steals
what feelings I had buried
beneath the hate and all the hearts
And I ask, “what did I do, my friend.
I squandered my precious ones,
all for the empty fear that ate
my heart…and I should remember,
when I start again…I should
a want to be myself.”
:: 09-29-2014 ::
Oh, my body grows from a stem,
fragrance and leaf.
the winds sway my heart upright,
and your touch
before you pull,
I await calmly–my executioner
my pollen smells you woman,
the tender finger-puller of love.
Behold: I die for your eyes
and beauty you see within me,
my petals and colours —
till finally nothing
but dried wick-of-stick.
Everything that seeds taught me
my childhood years so nameless,
and your tears like glistening water,
christen me after I have died!
When you bury me — made radiant
by your shining hair and bosom,
the altar which you have crowned
by your lightly showering tears!
:: 08-31-2014 ::
LIFE, that deck of cards shuffled
and cut for an element of chance;
then dealt across the play-board
:: 09-03-2014 ::
Silly how-is many times late
before the pun chaotically tickles
the slow molasses of subhuman
thought creatively. And I cry every
time my mouth laughs Those
brilliant giggle-fairy iridescent cellophane
wings // flutterHeart my tired soul on
quiet thunderThought nights.
And the crickets play their
between the underneath
of my longing moonlit eyes!
:: 09-02-2024 ::
The little poor boy lost a tooth
and awoke the next light of day
and found a shiny coin of rich
beneath his tattered pillow.
“Mother! Look what I have found!”
“Yes, all is very well, I see the tooth fairy
has visited you of last night!” She smiled at her thin and gaunt little son. A pain cut her beneath her breastbone. She sighed.
“I shall eat a lunch today at school now mother!” And off he went for the day and happier than he had been for quite some time. The evening came and the house was calm and all had retired for the morrow. The sun rose and horror crept over the hills and seeped beneath the door of the tiny dilapidated shack.
“Mother!!! Mother!!! Where is my money! I should have 4 dollars, 25 cents beneath my pillow! ” The boy’s mother ran into the room and saw her poor little boy toothless with crimson hope caked across his pouty lips.
:: 09-02-2014 ::
In a great-small thing of no size but larger than zero I placed a bag of velvet life roughly the length of a rocky-road mile and away it dissolved into the infinitely smallness of my LifeBag and I shed a ghostly tear — the ones that never jump from the wornEyes of dying cultures but those dried eyeballs found on summer-baked roads for hungry vultures. I said, “farewell my dreams and fears and may your journey into oblivion be as pleasant as your stay within my soul.”
:: 09-02-2014 ::
THEY drop as by the dead
procession and funeral.
Like the barren field
upon my face
— so slip my tears
beyond the reach
of a broken heart.
Sorrow does drown
an empty Soul —
the bitter debt of Life!
:: 08-26-2014 ::
SUCH persistent illusion
this box called life,
wherein I lay my bones
upon a hook the dream
swings to and fro.
Our majesty — Love,
tends to our soulful needs,
kissing the stars as we fall,
that vastness of other-there!
:: 01-23-2014 ::
I kissed a Monet painting, Van Gogh too!
And Mona Lisa kissed the man behind the
brushstroke of lifePaint. And then that’s when
I saw her walk through the door —
of the outdoor of life, and I cried,
“Art, pop, and poetry!”
She pulled them all inside her heart.
And I was taken by her soul and lips.
And she walks like a portrait off some museum wall!
Built like life and mother Earth,
she came to me through the dream
of my waking life.
And she (oh!) walked and all life and reality
followed her through Life. And her hair
and eyes said to me, “I was so busy doing
something and nothing for my own life dear.”
That’s when I walked through the LifeDoor
of the Outdoor of Life.
And I caught a butterfly and said, “I think I
My woman is poetry, art, and life and lust,
and all God gave to me!
And I think…yeah, think, I could love her.
thunder talking, and lightning walks but
my baby loves me most!
IT’S the art of love.
And she has a strawberry kiss and raspberry lips.
:: 08-30-2014 ::