February 28, 2017
She goes shy of the very shadows;
completely infused in first section hard-copy news,
She peruses column leads,
Refusing all too-sad reads.
Usually my views.
So sure you got some guy here who’s seriously shy
To fill skies with a gloom-jam just eye-jabbed in.
It can kill a guy.
But the goo you stand up against and
The two tons of blue mood you face
Too often. Too fierce to soften & go.
This man here could not just stand there,
She can’t relate
To the cinema I saw so late
She says they blur more black than white.
She says they end not..just not right.
July 10, 2016
“Just be quiet and sit down/The reason is you are drunk/And this is the edge of the roof” -RUMI
“…And be prepared to bleed” -Joni Mitchell, from “I Could Drink A Case Of You”
They spin me ’round one time, two
At three, they scattered then, their laughter
Left with them, leaving me to
To something that may matter
There’s Ibis outside, on my back lawn, my rain.
And I have
To photograph them there,
Then, stage the image at DeviantArt or Flickr,
Where some drummer will steal it
(good eye & hand talent, w/the accent on eye)
Then, those Ibis will be re-staged
On their “releasable” CD cover,
Or maybe on his big bass drum.
Maybe if I was loaded or dumb
I’d upload it to Facebook
So high school “friends” (we kept it mum)
May be bored enough snoops…
They’ll see my birds,
Then back, Away. Poof
I’ll snoop myself/ Craigslist for free
“Missed Connections” is the only place
To see who’ve noticed your face
And wanted you, destinyly.
May 1, 2016
Some seem to see the floor of the sea
as a sketchy, yet effective sanctuary.
They’re thinking, I think, that it’s tucked away
good. Could be quite quiet.
Would be you’d dream good there.
Sure, it goes that you must breathe much slower.
Sure, bluegreen cracks for surface lightening.
But, You’ll see that jeweled fishes,
Stilled with witness,
Flee at the softest flourish.
And bets are..sandbeds are busy with movement.
How can my dreams take when I’m floating awake?
October 24, 2015
“..Just a beer light to guide us..” – David Bowie
“And this is the simple truth–that to live is to feel oneself lost” – Soren Kierkegaard
G L I M P S E
A trance makes its appearance as
placid lakes pull fog tight,
elsewhere perfect light there performs subtle sonatas
for ponderance if
tucked not too loud in a cloud. tonight
if OK I guess I may get my own drift.
. (old rhyme in a box,2008)
July 16, 2013
wake up now.
it’s taking our time
but hasn’t upset you.
when i finally find it all free
i’m coming to get you.
i’ve contracted to go slack at the controls
i’ve blocked out a plan to get a blind pilot.
here’s more, why not.
i’ll always toss off
i’ll drink less, it’ll do to forget them,
but i bet then
when we go follow…
(at last, tasting…)
not the least hollow victory
when we finally go follow all dreams less fictionally
March 5, 2013
ONE WINTER ADDITION
teachers to small children
the world over
pastors to parish
they all will tell the pretty truth
(aside the pretty lies, “pretty lies”)
that crystalline snowflakes
are unique. unique.
and maybe later in both
and sunday school classes
(and in all their varieties the world over)
small children might make snowflakes for themselves
they’ll fold lacy paper exactly in half
with a good crease
and taking their round-ended scissors
they’ll cut their very own unique cuts
so that when everyone unfolds their lacy paper
and lifts it above their heads
everyone can laugh at their uniquenesses
but one thing that ministers & mentors
rabbis & nuns will fail to add
is that those one-of-a-kind snowflakes
in their descent
on icy black currents
all their night fall