Four Poems: Katrina's PathwayHarvest of Apoplectic Horses ((Dedicated to: Katrina)) crisis)It has happened before: Nearby and afar, Where the four-horses of Apocalypse With their flaming nostrils Breathed in the fury of the winds Only to vomit out, disaster; - Then galloped away, Against pale faces!...#824 9/2/05The Vanishing [Dedicated to: Katrina]For a time, I left my body- Behind me. Still, I resided in my darkroom- "There is... Read More
I WANTED TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF FLOWERS A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.I WANTED TO SAY IT WITH A PACK OF SWEETS A' HI' WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.I THOUGHT TO SEND A POETIC WISH. POEMS ARE MEANT FOR MEN & WOMENDOES A POEM NEED A POEM FOR A WISH? I WOULD SIMPLY SAY.....,HAPPY BIRTHDAY ! ************************************************ Morning I went to the church The priest looked at me in awe I never... Read More
It was not me as I am now. It was not me as I was then. It was then when God was truly in me. When God was in me, I was a young man. A young man with hope, will and desire. Desire to give my love and the gift of God to the ones in need. You see, that was me.Thus, it was not me who hurt you so, But... Read More
I Shall Wait..On all the new mornings, and every singking evening, I wear a small crescent, in the finest of my accent...Those memories come up storming, that tender touch so warming, That lovely soothing weather, Feeling as light as a feather, With hands across each other, And nothing else to bother...With a feeliing as to fly, in the open blue sky, That lonely bank of the river, and a mild wintery shiver,With silence all around us, and the huge Eucalyptus... Read More
What can I do to keep this world in its orbital spin? I gave up trying to win the hearts of the many-. Throw the meat-balls against the wall, stop, stop!! Trying to make them spin, like God did in the heavens!Sexual longings-a pathway to anger and rage- Turn the page to the cheap hotels, turn the page Give it a pathway to run, tell your friends, they've won. And don't answer to anyone; hang up the phone?!Don't go outside... Read More
Contract of DeathI heard today, the preacher say: "Daniel has warned us long ago, Of the trials and tribulations we Are now facing, with our foes?"He says the 'Antichrist' was now In Europe crying: 'peace,' and the 'Axis of Evil,' had already placed Hidden Atomic Russian weaponsUnder our feet, here in the good Ole heart of the United States; 'Palestine's cry for peace,' he adds, Is a loaded Gun for... Read More
The Goat and the Ropewhere there were devils I saw none. nothing. the air is hot. milky substance. I am and we are looking at this deep. souls lost. we are looking at this terrain. the moon is dead. over my head. like a shadowy curtain. hanging. most of the kings in westminister abbey are here. all the rest of us are on the hill. no ice-cream down here.... Read More
Daybreak at Pikes Creek [Summer of 2005]Daybreak by Lake Superior Rising out of the woods like: A swamp mist I'm waiting for breakfast(at the B&B) I pace the grounds The scent of green shrubbery: Trees, flora, flowers-rain Intoxicates me- Branches like big brown arms Descend? The embankment, to the right Blue eyed, like mine-reflect From the creek beneath me (my wife says 'be careful' she went to get the camera) The greens and blues touch My face and blue jeans-... Read More
Blind DesignsBorn today, gone tomorrow Like a butterfly with no stomach Born n the morning, dead by night Oh-let me whisper Oh-let me cry What man has not learned? What man will not learn! In his pomposity, his rhetoric With his abstract concepts With his intellect With his creativeness He has become enslaved By-them? By them all, he will fall. Ah! Yes-abstract concepts... Read More
Ole Bulky JeepsThrough late summer's heat These bulky shaped jeeps Ride by house and farm City and barn-Hungry for Spring-again, hoping to avoid The Slipping and sliding Of winter's ice and wind?[s]Their weighty legs are dirty From moving dust and rain (Here and there, everywhere) Through all kinds of terrain Like moving clouds caught In the foliage of the woods? They never slow down a ting They... Read More
Is poetry too complicated for the average reader? Is it too cryptic, scholarly? If you ask a large group of average people what they like or don't like about poetry, you'll get a few different answers, but there is an overwhelmingly common category of responses.One of the main reasons that people say they aren't addicted to contemporary poetry is that they feel it is too cryptic. The language, they say, isn't tangible. Despite the fact that there are a great... Read More
the disease of extremism is infectious-; whoever cannot think of their child growing up without it is part of the phenomenon! (the choice of the day). fanaticism,-- with a powerful ideology are seeds for suicide! murder: giving reasons to rage!... ask: leninist che hitler bin laden they will show you to a noble act of death!... (that is what they... Read More
Wars, air of AmbiguityDedicated to 1st. Lt. Laura Walker (From an old soldier/Vietnam Veteran)[Advance] We fight in foreign lands not because we necessarily love its culture or land, but because we believe in pragmatism (life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness); simply as it may be, it can be costly.The Poem:We all lose something in war And sometimes gain something: Idealism, physical, cynical (no blood in the face), Psychological, innocence-; We're all victims... Read More
Cesar Vallejo: Black RosesBow down your head ol' poet- To face God's grace ahead There are no more trenchesTo dig today? In the forest of your head,So-: Bow down, bow down,Ol' barbaric poet! Death rides the horse ahead I hear the crackling of a whip See the crazed eyes of death.He summons you to his den- The devil and his wind,So-: Bow down, bow down Your blood stained brows He will take you to the edge.Closer, closer, I see you... Read More
Memoirs of a Wasteland's RimIt still was light when she paused at the wasteland's rim- Over, the rim rest like a sleeping brute, a wooden frame Adjacent to the blue where early stars hung like oil lamps Hanging from old beams and shade?the wooden frame Her footing caught the beams, as she had fallen onto it Alone, she watched the forenoon, climbing around her A drifter woman, marked by life, and slanting dreams With appearance of hurt and molded muscle... Read More
Delicately, my mind was selecting a muffled tune, out of the dead dark empty space surrounding me?I saw a shape on a rock, not sure who it was; I had a sensitivity though, a feeling call it, or second-sight; I've heard that before, not sure if I want to put a lot of credence into it, but so be it, the sensitivity and numbness was there. I didn't' sense any danger in the moment, in the moonlit figure, sitting on... Read More
Grandpa's House [The ole Real House]The house needed painting Sun-blistered and flaking Grandpa started to have us Boys-Mike and I- start Doing some scraping-While he, pealed off the ole Paint, and started painting?Just a humble wooden house With several rooms, but Strong enough to keep the Winds and winter snows out, How he loved that ole house!...An' his well-kept yard, which Contained lilac bushes, and Big shade... Read More
In early fall, in Minnesota, the rain falls, falls, In buckets, buckets and more buckets-: drops Likened to music from its many streams-land Of ten-thousand lakes; moistened gravel, gravel Everywhere?Grandpa sits on the porch-daydreaming of, of Something, perhaps winter around the corner-; As the flies disappear, with the mosquitoes? Leaves will soon vanish, shadows will come earlyMaybe he's thinking about summer: miles and miles And miles and miles of cornfields; his childhood now Long gone, he hums a hymn, a... Read More
Old skin, once held tight Against her skeleton- Rose no more, just draped Loosely over unpadded flesh; Un-tightened muscles, and tissue, Lost its courage, no-fortitude-, Gone are the days and years That stood against the Indomitable elements; The skeleton, now a landmark Hidden under flesh and blood Guts and moral fiber, backbone? Collapsed from drudgery Time, time: cascading inside-. Bones now leaving impressions... Read More
The Exit Poems [And Socrates]Iron and FireIron can be soften by fire- grows hard in the cold; and all the gates therein are, as it was, closed again. So, often are those misled? by luxury and pride, who push humility aside-: thus, redemption their vanity and perfection their virtue? and in the end, they all collided.#789 [7/9/05]No HeroesI'm still living all the places I've been Dreaming of places... Read More
