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Talk amongst yourselves. I'll give you a topic: Jersey cattle see in black&white--do they think they're camouflaged?
__feb.11/01
Losing light, tobaccoes and rain lies,
A next night not for sleep or even sleepy tries,
Beset with his losses, no room for friends,
Just a sad ol' boy, he's the guitar man.
Walks 'round like the talking, only whistle and hum,
And he searches for nothing with needs for none,
But there's a pictured lady wicked and long--
Sings of her 'til her days are run.
Roads gone driven that nobody knows,
A soul he'd lost in frostbitten snows,
Blue laments with no tears, beginning or end,
The lady's left a-cryin', he'd left with the wind.
Awoke by a shadow, asleep in the sun,
Beer drunk warm 'midst yannigans in fun,
But the redheads he calls to in blue jeans all worn,
They give 'im no looks and leave him forlorn.
An old hill he'd frequent, singing for trees,
Where winter wind howled and numbed fingers gave pleas,
A dancer whilst the strumming and bellows proceed,
Words entangle and grow and linger like weeds.
Betimes he were spotted--side of the road--
Not broken down but heavy with his load,
There by the sunset, scattered bottles and cans,
Spittin' chew 'neath a breeze, there's songs in his hands.
Gone gals and blue cloud skies, holler to 'em good shame,
They know of his stories but not of his name.
Wrapt in desolation, no solace to lend,
Singing "titties and beer," just drunk Guitar Man.
`
My Mind On Tap __feb.22/01
Can't trust the weather man
And no need--out of doors.
Feet pains for long-working, hazy, black days
When skin charres in the fields,
All the deadness outer self
Hoeing life and growing muscled-lean.
The mouths of decadence, meals worth of scrap
While the junky stays alert
And haggard alchies forget a remember.
Life of beauty yet all this Man to disgust,
Catching up to the heels of destruction;
Though that don't think
With their days better might as well unlived
And they matter still as much for God
In their curses, hates, lies, and no-caring heart displays.
Grandiloquence perceivers sittin' on sore asses,
Hearty, lazy fucks who'd dig truth
If only some wild-haired guffaws
Like windy meanderings would lambast wayward souls--
Fuel the bastards;
Shining vaguely twinkle eye,
Shining vaguely twinkle I,
Put my mind on tap.
Instigator of smiles
While away contempt-hording nowheres
As no one pertains all individual pains.
Soak a lady with lovelies,
How she would ever be dear
For blue jeans painted over soft legs long
Worth only looks a second
Or an otherwise moreso both eyes
'Cause rains wet all--
Seasonal doldrum suicides some--
Forgetting countrysides and all Spring fireflies
Just sparkling petals after sun's set;
And so a wealthy weeps with luxured booze,
And bums giggle in box cars and moonshine cheer,
And good ol' boys locked up
Without our beers though whistling
The melodies of old to sustain
Stays away from stealing bread
So each day is a quieter, harder soul--
No tamper tries can waiver.
Where there's much to lose,
Gain that's present foils a happiness;
Cocksure vagabonds peddle gold-plated smiles.
Goodbye's for honeypies cancered beyond
Down the line side-glance leers
Dust lush mind fields w/ used shames--
Government monkies alike.
Sucking down needles
Piercing kind, wronged hearts
Too lovely for disagreeing dissentions--
Some lessers, the blow-up bombs.
Delirium fancies better than none,
Time portunes days snowy delight,
But if I were dreaming it'd be little fun
Awake here alone from the night.
`
Drunken Picture Gal--I've No Shirt __feb.25/01
Seems sometimes the sun don't wanna set
And she's quicker to rise either dry or wet,
So in the evenings I'd no choice
But to stay and smile.
Heaven's everchanging water colors;
Pop a top and watch awhile.
The sunsets I've been missing--
Guitars too, old friends, and many beers--
No more night-fun outdoor pissing,
Grinning dizzy shirt-gone groping,
And what's her name?--
She knows no fears.
The drunken gal I know from pictures;
My camera, some I took,
And she r'members my name.
What I recall from when the flash lit,
She was prettier at the time.
I'll be damned if I don't know
Where all her beauty went.
`
Begins Haiku--Dylan Dreams, the Rogues, & She
__april22/01
Bob Dylan singing dream
Song unr'membered--
South Sunday morn.
Deciduous mail 'tween paisans,
Serried trollops obfuscate the starry esplanade--
All the dolors of life.
A nepenthe for my moues,
The swagger of her nate
Roaned in old blue jeans, panoplies.
Eventide in the copse,
Peregrinate a lorned clime,
Obstreperous navvies meaneander piceous roads--
The crapulous minds of turbidity--
Those hyacinth eyes seduce unmitigatably.
An exegesis for this lugubrious pable:
Rather sitting lotus-legged upon the rimed bole
Of sedentary eyries 'midst mountains capped of snow.
`
Meditation With No Care __may19/01
Sunsets and cumulous seen
Out of shrouded window there again.
Cartoon lessers from childhood,
Only things rememberred from home.
Nostalgic air misgives a day's struggle,
And truth pervades too honestly.
Still on my mind, a gal of sunshine,
But all the why's are empties.
The trouble ain't worth it mostly
Though the fiend of a man prevails.
A clouded songstress whistling bird
All the far aways unheard
By most the sometimes forrest breezes
Of what is wished were known in silences
In the wood 'side streaming crick
For a while of whiles in never waiting
'Cause time is an emptiness of man
That sees its end a-coming, sat still,
Amidst the pines and otherwhere--
Alone but not at all, meditation with no care.
`
Fermented Voidness & Maguey Fer Bum Angels
__april27/01
Parochial fermented maguey froths
Enbibed in Fellaheen setting suns
Beguiling libidinies in dirty cloths
With frosom gaits 'gainst the runs,
There's sun-drenched scores of sad workers
In Calexico Mexicali towns
At borders where all life is suffering,
Drunk and fucked w/ no Buddhas around.
Through the arroyos a bum dreams of sleeping,
Evinces he's abdicated their middens,
As they cling and scream--beloved, empty shit--
And dying souls until death are kept hidden.
Winds of sands stalk quiet in the night hour,
As well the nothings though by a-lone Jack
Who's of few whom know why is no difference
'Cause our voidness is all here that lasts.
`
Lost in Sorrowed Paintings of My Daft Rain
__Nov.15/01
I have issues people don't wanna hear about,
Talk about, think on, dream on;
Things I often drunken spout--
The green & violet, red-white painted surrealisms
Soonly random thought I muse.
Love me the lovers I cannot cling to
Attempts to better the ruined me I've sought.
The pain I know they've seen
In about these eyes around amongst ways
Have frightened their gaze to wonder
O, what meanings are in these pearls
I've thrown again & a time
But never in passing?
Still I cry inside and ponder on me outwards.
How can or could it be the vaguely said of
When may the mendacity lighten
Betwixt veracious throes I obfuscate with woes?--
Or ever there's someone waiting
O, Lord, I for the finding
'Cause searching the seeking out makes weary
Some o'er grown calamity thus constructed
While sighs from moments wane
Through dew-ridden roads of early morrow
In my brained conscience in a fray,
And it's clear the lucidity left,
The insanities of a drunkard never slept.
Daft poemities,
Heroicisms the same,
I was groping through the mirk
For a solace 'midst the pain,
Had some glee spite my sorrow
But was lost in my rain.
`
Wild-eyed Meddling Across Beat Streets for Dim-
Risen Sun __feb29/00
Meddling a quick step across beat streets
Onto another crazed sidewalk full of drunken feats,
The midnight creep makes a midnight creep
Onward to the pin-up face he's made to weep.
Cries for him he never knew to hear as loud
Leave evenings spent losing money in the crowd.
A fall behind to damp doldrum eyes
And a hand opened for grasps by surprise,
Blonde eyes and blue--reckonings discarded--
Inconsequential, like hours til they've departed.
He sits the back seat of corners for dim-risen sun
Almost belated for the quaint Iowa hitch-hiking thumb.
Then he's a glimpse springing up and out
Toward smooth jazz heard outside above his shout.
Wearied with sweat, he'll wake soon yet
Just a wild-eyed kid whose hair is oddly wet.
But he'll rise and shine and catch a train somewhere west,
Remembered mostly for that tattoo upon his chest.
`
Thrifty We & I, Loner Cowboyin' Sunset Fiends
__sept.20/01
What'd I mean when that I said,
They knew they thought I'd end sweet dead?
Pictured lonely sunsets I the only saw
'Neath the wait of weighty ponder pains.
Eyed me as I her, the eye uninhibited of us.
I'd roamed the aisles for her betimes.
Finally done with lock and key?--
The drink still got the better of me.
All that mirth-type thriftstore hopping,
Stories of the cloth therein enlie--
We'll make novels of 'em.
We, these thriftstore cowboy heroes
Told in song we're drunk, desert fiends,
Here's to the gals who enbibe o'er their bounds
Of whom we're truly never weened.
`
Aimless, Nameless __3/6/00
Drag me down with streaming
A protesting eye that's screaming.
She's around, a shadow in the moon,
But where's she going? where's she going to
Where a black light flows
And her svelte soul glows?--
She sees a glint of her youth in her silver pudding spoon,
And this scene has it where you want you
In great wonderness or wonderment,
But creeping twilight acosts fading drum beats of recollection
For fabled childhood predilection.
She would have rode, but strode--
Absence of a pony--
Whispering sweet phrases a man doesn't comprehend.
Beat-up vans and dusty magazines,
Takes our time driving American dreams;
When comfort never means closure
But Marylou in my lap--
Playing those six strings,
Take on a sixer and a nap.
It's either humid or hot or dry for dirt
Or a day with glorious Jesus breezes
When I've no need to button my shirt.
`
Sweet Ms. __3/26/00
Undone plagues in my mind invade me
Like a young girl traveling
Down the narrow stream leading toward lights of Heaven,
Pointed out by her guardian angel
Whose flight speeds not so fast as the little darling--
Or so I find me wishing.
But, in the darkness of tainted day after sunset fades,
I am comforted by what is and what should never be.
My drive seems long and the drag quite strong,
But I ought not stop off 'til I hit mountains or sea.
Taking my chances, either snowflakes or spring,
I'll take any rain to wash clean the pain.
Roll through a small town;
It's late afternoon.
Sun fades and cuts across,
Lighting the way for a moon.
Pretties slide by in time
And I shout over noise--
I beckon with the radio
For sweet Ms. to ditch the boys.
So late night country road flying
Eases the eyes with gentle breezy kiss.
Soda and a kiss and discuss with sweet Ms.
'Cause she's too lovely to defile tonight.
`
Parched Roadside Pondering Loner--Desert Dust & Lus t
___may 5/00
He's bent about littered dust
Thrown by a 351 sped with death at full thrust.
Must have noticed not a thing
On a head full of acid with big lizard dreams.
He's hunched to draw in sand--
A figure of his woman formed by his naked hand.
For an hour, fixated on a cloud;
Smashed her image with his guitar but he still hums aloud.
and he recalls the gulping bourbon craze
When afterward porch singing was folk remeniscence glaze.
The woman of a friend--
He'd eyed the open cleavage to no end.
Life was deemed supple and smooth
Though his fled mind of mirth yearned prayer to soothe.
He's stooped amidst rueful eyes--
Midnight stars twinkling sadness for tripped lies.
`
Tired Manic Creative Junkie __may 16/00
Time for a night close draws a nighter
Much familiar in dream coffee diner;
To write in locked late doors
With clanging dishes and sweeping floors.
But two old-timers beat the time
And enter for dinnered drinks lovely strong,
And perhaps they talk of glory days--
For a young girl they'd played a Mr. Wrong.
I'm digging twang hick juke box
'Cause it's caffeine, nicotine, bad habit joys.
Big rolling thoughtways crowd--
All as white-line highways & lonesome boys.
Yesterweekend found me angel guarded--
Drunken time, but lucky as it's past.
Still I've always memories now for wild nights,
And I've forever in days 'til breath breathes last.
Them old photographs & letters unsent
Wonder for me my time well spent.
Four sugars for my cup but can't ease any pain.
I'll just lie awake later, sore back, praying rain.
My life runs long
If I ponder all to come;
Then, perchance I'm merely weary
With more time wondering today than some.
She'll hold me close,
Vigorous congenial youth body embrace,
And her kiss clears my mind--
Ablution for selfworth disgrace.
That looking and zeal for my eyes
With bare lying repose & lack of lies
Portunes inspiration for frolicking bucolic fancies
In minds bent on meadows
As painted picturesque blithe
Leaping predilections so I yearn to drive
In a mean ride where she's beside,
Headed out from towns that go nowhere;
Onto sideways boulevards that climb,
Locked lips and weaving high speeds
Mix young happy lust with road dangers
Of those gone girls elsewhere groping strangers--
Go and out across far aloof gone twilight
Over there & back nowhere to lonesome beds awaiting another night.
`
Late April Storm __may 1/00
The road wound long and I drove a rainy self.
Below awaited me a valley town with soda
on a refrigerated shelf.
East or West, I knew not where to care
Though moonlight is the sun's, soothing the air.
God bless for water-dropping clouds that rue
And scatter electric jolts to enlighten a few.
Lightning bright to dilate my eyes
Then sudden dark in storm loving joy cries.
`
Lovely Ephervescent Calm-filled Lonelies___may 11,12,&13/00
A circle-drive mind
Lonely half but mirthful in shade,
There are dreams so said
For a big suitcase ever packed & ready homemade.
Slumber by trees--
What he woke from wih ease--
Rousing yawny grandiloquence
And spring up to sprint a wood from thence.
Road jump a fence ride,
Quick tumble up highjack a bride.
Roadside late & slide
'Cause moon's overhead in twilight cloud tide,
And she's the ol' sweetheart,
Feels sunshine way past noon,
And I'm treatin' lady-like--working for penance June.
Summer dark cool night breezy & low,
Taking pics for kids to come
And deadened mosquitoes moving slow.
Tipsy dirt road drivin' heavy metal music scream--
I'm young & stout & witty & out
On night road's muscled lean.
Dreaming culmination,
Unsobered inebriation station
Northern love but almost gone for the times;
And keep the good jelly
Jam--it's strawberry--
'Cause longer loveliness makes her wine.
Just because she heard the song--
Lovely ephervescent calm-filled lonelies,
I caught a homeride drunk & sang.
Then jolly...then jolly.
Come across crazied wonderment:
Splendidness in ripped coffee;
Take a left at your inebriation station
Too confused 'cause beautiful she is
A remembrance of my mused Julie chest wholesomeness--
Gimme more I'd scream in & for sleep
To hold for much ink-soaked spout-filling gulps
And laughs aloud unknown why
`
Vacant Morose Sunlight Loathing, Wanting More of Rustic Fastback Gals _ june18/00
Vacant for afternoon blithe jeers
A memory to mixed mixes--condescention & love sight--
Daylight harms what conversations could not kill,
So the young man waits out morose sun 'til night.
Spoken aloud in wet brown coffee cloud,
A poetry careens and ends with heavies.
Rusty old soul a buzz wouldn't fold,
Lost pains drained their fame for jocund bevies.
Spanish vixen never around for twilight;
Good little girl, presence fades with sunlight.
And mostly I'd be one to cheer
Excepting wanton hours with a viciousness leer.
Rustic strays I'm found a-walking
For fastback gals and dawned coffee talking
The wholesome few by simpled fate,
Ever knowing nevers have been too late.
`
Undone Nothings of Weekend __july 1/00
Dandy old backward shaves,
She were up against the wall.
No young sun shines through the house
And father roams aloof for fishing & balls.
Only on the weekends--my twilight fancies--
Spent laughing toward colored moons,
And otherwise in sober loathing
'Til waits run on to familiar loons.
'Neath vagueness of mine irascible proclivities
I'd thought to gild pains in nicoffeine wirls;
Hence for thus, frail joys meander clouded.
Best buddies, outcast, soothe 'tween girls.
Slept days go seeming wasted perhaps
Then ensues long sunset dream charm.
So weekdays are past-thought bad bad things;
Worries come alone for surprise morn tattoo on my arm.
`
The Balcony Scene __9/10/98
The camoflauged tear streams on a face of disgrace,
And where a torrent rain throws a laugh at sin-soaked
pain, The liquored path to numb and wane
And bring solace to Marie's Swedish plain,
A free lingual frolick is as now my rustic flower.
I saw her remotely among the people clutter--
As in a tunnel of vision--the shrine I'd malign
For simple sake of an evil law, we might do without
If our beer would run out.
Tattered glass, broken sleep, an insecure embrace to take my place;
Or a rainy fragrance engulfing her hair
Which I can always smell at night.
Once I saw her when she stared at me,
But in her truth she did not look away.
And I could see her, across the way where she smiled,
In our pleasant glaring stay.
Of course, then there was her laughter.
How might it be interpretted by a loser?
It was no secret she was the one I was after,
But.......I was just a loser.
So she taunted with flirting and fluttered her eyes
Oh, and then there was her scream of pain and surprise.
And there I fell as dead from the window--
My sturdy shotgun sustaining better than I, the blow.
Poor little beautiful girl just didn't know who she was fucking with.
` Reassurring Inflection __10/20/98
Again I thought forsooth it may be perceived
In a recidivism not heard by the close caring.
A sitting loser am I not so short of the fitting liar,
And to her in eleven days my calling should ride;
Still I am much higher.
Never would I when were it I spoke too soon
Lest voicings of word tarry so elegant as I am spoken.
I listen to her most intently as I blabber about my dream;
Softly to the touch, a little coffee cup which I release in time to a stream.
Perchance a happy glance might mingle merry martyrs....
But who's to say if that's okay?
Simple bitches in a linger too inclined to lay a finger,
Heave onward four and seventy woes,
Leaving quick departure to mine quick toes.
Spritely mellow laxative pills
Gives ye what soon yet may cure yer ills.
Other than such reckoning, I've a hanker for a mug of tea;
Thus, to hold my walking by, certainly my baby will cry--
Though with myself I never can--
Notice changing colors in my eye?
An invitation is my hair to her across the way
Wither her glaring is sustained,
And I'll remain upon the solitary balcony
In blessed ravaging sin-soaked rains.
`
Young Man's July Blues & Not __july 10/00
Gorge the nicoffeine arousal within
For to hear a goldfish heaven.
And I ask myself through tired squigglies,
Who eases some troubles present lone?--
All manied to glum?
Diamond-eyed steel walls
Like a heart for better in groan,
Double swallow holding hollow mine sorrow
And jocund I ought be in remain.
Carouseled as circular happies
Amongst anon chivatos, caring femenina whores,
Onward looks over maddened rodeo booze
That soon lead bottleneck six-string quaint bores.
Surrounded buxom & calipygean wonders
I sped t'ward--a mirth beheld for July.
As such our wild nights of patrioted previous
Plays out through lives
And longs cries in beer tears
'Cause I wish to go back always
At an independenced lakeside
Whose coupled nights ignite a soul,
Where awry was nothing & law mellowed awhile,
When all I could do was sing drunk anthems
And flash a biggest smile.
Names & mine would go rememberred, Evenings and moonlight on 'til morn, So we'll praise God when we've been eldered, When maddened youth for time is worn. ` Like She Said __march '00 I miss her now like she said I wouldn't. She had turned, soon came, And I left her there. I know don't not of her thoughts As we are divided, And of her is left, poetry--Ms. Sunshine Hair. ` Not Altogether Contemptuous __july 13/00 By himself on solitary ranges or shires, He may ponder of the meaningless world While Ecclesiastical verses dash about his mind-- All of man & his pretenses have derived From proposed ideas of a dumb & the quick acceptance By hordes lacking insight to question or for betterment. Habits betimes run bad, Mine & like my dad, But so long as breezes blow around me, You'll know I'm there when you've found me. So it's hard to feel this cold When I'm hot & happy old. Then they'll tell me something kills; I'll wonder then how Heaven feels. ` Merry Hooligan Dry Mind Remnants of Wild __july 13/00 Been dry as hot can be That I lagged about day long Making my most & that to others With lovely hour noon break never wrong. Prideful with each blues-ridden American, We run ragged our five suns of hell, And ol' boss man, the Man, makes our pay For moonlit bad-ass nights we love too well. Merry hooligans on slick post-noon roads Catch the wind & three sheets through lack of snow. But when a jukebox tells us someday never comes, Minds remain for what we do & should not know. ` Levelled Orient Loner-Trip Roads__august15/00 Grown field front of Heaven's sunset Was glitterment farly sown of her wink in a tear Though a realness seeped into eyes & a hearing guitar Loving loquacious land rovers--pretty blonde horse trader of stone. Eves rolling onward, a dust of lightning glinted beers And me, their folk song vagabond fixated to sing at rears. Beauty came in long-legged tidal waves, A Ms. Molly Fun Bags & generous, naughtied friends; All I was, an unsteady standing smile Held to lust bust after bust & dream lillies for the while. ` Few-Bucks Worth of Otherwise Sadly__sept 1/00 I go riding or walking--days & nights-- But I never say "we" 'cause always it's only me. A guitar is joy but not ever companion. Intolerance of lactose dulls later hunger. Few-buck jeans and pearl-snap shirts the same I could suppose I'm never money lame; Sad is the otherwise. To know different kinds of silence, There is truth among mountain tops For chilled cut-through-you winds And expanse of vision even for the nearsighted. Daft hope already blighted, I stroll in ponder for peaceable notions And distortions of the normals' reality grip. Time is everywhere; Some while ago being otherwhere, She must've been the same place--elsewhere-- Yet, I met her not a couple thousand miles away On the other central southwestern low Of North American upper panhandle stay. Wretched conclusive unperceivings in a glare her way, Every bit of stare that comes from another eye of mine I sit with me aside night bright-light roads for dark sky When also I'm not near me enough To know I've taken leisure to meander A jocund giggling lie down Aside cloud-tinted streams in wait for her wade, And I too in earnest yearning alonesome look 'Cause any of sincere adoration of greeting departure "hello's" Is want of soft touch to a desolate young fellow; Life oughta be a Dali painting or Kerouac book. ` Sins Sought For Blues-Ridden Red-Haired Skirts _8/7/00 Sins I sought through blues-ridden flirts And slips under long-legged mini-skirts Seem a seemingly trodden catcher of rye Held for lust--red-haired, green-eyed. She poured the best cup I'd ever had; I'm a whistling tune smiley lightfoot lad. Keep the jukebox blaring with sad-eyed ease, Got a pocket full of change and aims to please. ` Punkish Folkened Mellowed Easies _july 28/00 Punkish folk-guitar mellowed easies Of a friend getting older like me, A blazen euphoric coffee patio venture Splatters the times with neon post-worried glee. "Stupid me," the repeater verse And longings ` Dearest Gone 'Cept Ms. Canadia _9/25/00 Gentle and fair, The breeze-blown stairs, To Heaven I pray she's gone For years we've left with dragging on While these early wintered winds wind 'round open plains And I've smiles to wear flannel and ride on flames, 'Cause life can live all longer Than her sweetly life now through, Mornings bright and filled with pain-- Ms. Canadia waking lovely with me too. Brisk chidings for the morrow And I've plenty lust to wane Though the dew larks fly love whispers And one day seems like another same, For onto woeful midnight drawrings, A lamp is quenched and dark-- Coming back to haunt a nighttime, Beauteous tear-ridden dew lark. Can't at once the legging drop down of its own? Minds buzz in ecstatic silly-whipped grins Of chattered teeth with cold cigarettes, There's an affection to tell of a tale chasing tail When you hear in your soul melodied songs-- Dylan, Young, Springsteen-- Fluttering eyes and bared chill-bump thighs; Grab some dancing coffee fun and gorge To keep up with gone eve gals, Meandered green leaf hot tea jones-- Dearest Ms. Surprise-me twilight, Good for cold nip wonder glance, But I'm a waiter on my sweet northern baby, Love keeping on old time work pants. ` Frantic Normalty Nights Out in Aloneness __1/6/00 The dank night doldrums they dance around As a slight side hop with forlorn frowns all over town. But me, I'm in the countryside sippin' some brew, Playing sweet songs with my baby Marylou. I'll spend no more time with the "what was" talk When olde walking the crooked streets I stepped a crooked walk. I strive to be the long-haired crazy bastard rider of the sun, Waiting when I'd rather not chase busty whores but entreat a nun. It's all due time with age and tequila lime, If I keep working hard and don't settle as a mime. Standing on street corners; "You're not ready for hell!" So it's me some heavy-lipped talker And coffee coffee on is on my brain. Coffee buzz-- All with afterhours for a beloved customer "Like part of the family," she'd said, The filler of my cup-- Sweetest red-headed belle And a sister to match as well. Oftentimes I reckon it were best That I dub me a creative junkie like many a leary, loving pest. I love frantic normalty nights out in aloneness. Giving my good name a healthy try I'll leave many ignorant of why I am sly. Gorge the coffee and a bit of chocolate cake Still to linger in taste when for the morrow I wake. Belletristic breeze-blown borrowers, the vagabonds and bards, Have struggled all across the yard. I fired the shotgun and off they ran, Then I sprinted within their ranks and joined the caravan. ` Greener Glittered Morrow __1/18/00 Farther on, leaping further over fenced bounds, There'd been time enough sublime I'd hummed in fixed rhyme. Beforehand stepping through a dark road And leaving a lonely cigarette behind to burn cold, I strode onward toward my visions growing old Among the lamps and candles burning In the road-side sands of northern lands. I kept on until dawn where she slept. The face of sunshine thawing my road-weary bones which crept Still and moreso strolling past burning flower fields--I wept-- But my step never lightened, Or not in it's pace, Before running down morning dew In her glistening morn for twilight songs And the lip-laden heavy slowly love-sick gentle kiss. ` Lingering Past Present Tense __1/18/00 You keep talking about the day-glow Of me in your mind, But I can't stop thinking about My past lies-- To myself. Seems it's getting harder and harder With you being away. I think of that summertime; I hope we'll stay-- For a while. Everything is gray And I dno't see how I could live any longer Not knowing your sweet face. And what's that I heard you say, When you need me more than ever To take you from this place? Sad hours are longer Than those of mirth, short-lived though stronger. And I can play a softer tune In the smoke-lit moonlight of rue. She paints herself blue All for me--not you. I still remember a feel under darkened moons. And how I'd longed to hold Her warmth and hair as gold, But her doorway was pale in grief And her winter's heart, cold. ` Purple Flowers ___september 2/99 North wind breezy, I'm olde tyme chilled to the bone, But wander into purple flower fields and I find my warmer home. She'd strolled by in humble night time, Graceful, tender, she my lovely one. And her singing was an oldest song-- Brush the lips with lips, and dawn. Roaming a walking wave, she frolicked. I was half but sleepy since a day's trodding through. And awaking found her slept beside me, Beauty resting close in morning dew. ` Hide Me Not the Sparkle ___july 11&12/99 Hide me not the sparkle, Thy wanton firefly breaths. Gingerly doorway standing, Caught by her eyes--nigh to her breasts. Love her and she is crying-- My shoulder--a true dear friend. In me? I'm all but dying, For our closeness ties do bend. Spied her in the meadows, She the wounded tear-ridden roe. Braced her gently to standing, Homeward soon then my departing go. Sing of her, My irreverant waiting, I'm caught in frostbite stare. Yonder autumn pines-- Northern stroll--I'm gone off betimes, Heavy coats of love for wear. ` Mr. Unknowing __7/17/98 Always viewed in the big jaded glass, It is him who witnesses the turning of a man. Young boy though he was and is once again, He changes as the swinging of colours. The moody, speckled rainbow ringing proudly of the same; He knows no words. He speaks not. He cries...but no, only tries...prays for cries-- Just there, lies and the heat brings his sweat to weep All drenched, no doubt, in pain by his lover.... ...in shame by his lover...what is her name!? Mr. Unknowing stumbles around In the mist of lonesome town. Oh, where's my dear sweet baby? She's gone, and flown away. I never can fly but I like the sky, Which leads on to question of answers why. My bus stop baby, she's waited too long. I drove through stormy weather. She sends gifts and presents though I'm not at home. I've been gone far too long to meet her. But with her beauty teasing me lonely, I embrace the befallen kiss. My lover is merry when water runs dry And depression's death is lasciviously missed. ` More Than Suicide __11/3/97 Woman, I cannot hear your cries aloud; The children, I cannot find you in the crowd; Head down in my knees, peering for a distance into trees. I love you, I trust you, you inspire me, I want you.... Can I but taste the fruit gently and engulf it with somber melodies? I do but thee for a taste, oh just a taste! For but to even behold the redolence of your hair surely I would die, To defile myself my entering the presence of such purity. Lissome dove whose mind becomes weary with so long a flight; I cried out until pain was root of my bellow--never did you hear, never did you know. I am he without courage; not the courage to tell of how he loathes the sweet fruit. You try me so. I feel Eternity will have long since died that I find your beauteous face. As I do float upon the winds, my gun it does fall, And I fly upward to grasp it tightly, before the sun can lick my wall. There it is; now I've got it; I am back now upon the wind; It's been a while now; I been thinkin' 'bout you; I just pulled the trigger; it's not the end. The gun it floats onward, as do my remains-- In hopes that they'll awaken you one night.... ....you see me there....take hold of the gun....you do the same. I love you...more than suicide. ` Petals Dubbed Heather __8/19/98 She's the lap-laiden lover to trouble me dearly at best, So much like the others though fully dressed. I'd have her dry but who is the joker of me? We could live forever in my room in yonder Canada of yore Where the sparkling ciders roll over toes at a streamside picnic bed. While in the clearing I am still as only above a hill, Sat, I seem ill and wish a better half of me to kill. My unwelcomed face gives note to my affinity of thought; Will she fly skyward with me or only is it My body to rot? Perhaps in a starry twilight hour she could see her reflection in my eye, Glimpsing her svelte wings which cover me, lying in dream, in the night. Always, perhaps not and the wall I've painted to existence crushes my slumber. And again it arises and subsides--I plead for recidivism-- Too unaccustomed to happiness and affection. Right now I'm a loser. Right now I'm lonely. Let the swing do its thing and I'll be exstatic in a moment. I left myself a while ago and lost where I was going. She's not altogether home but I'm so all alone So I'll live here as in august it is snowing. ` Rocking-horse Breeze __7/21/98 Aqua lifeblood in driplets falls down from a poreous glass.... A wilted, crumpled flower is wet where in a delicate hand it lies. A svelte beauty is strone about, sleepless though not awake...not since he.... Around her lips rest the tear of the unknown weeper. Does she stare or dream? And suddenly, where is singing? Alas, where went rememberance of the voice and an eloquent dancer? At a glance she stirs; silly reckonings are pittied in a smiling face. A bevy of glistening hair engulfs her lily white bosom...porcelain eyes. After the wind....when ripples upon amethyst waters cease....she is unmoved. Atop her figure, a faint garment no longer shed by touch...not since he.... Aching heart, and still as ever beating on, beating on, pleading on. A glimmering ray of light gently makes its spectacle upon the flower-- A wilted, crumpled flower--last carressed long ago...not since me.... Apathy grows, in passing, a gentle soul; but who is she to be so deserving? And let her rest there, ever beauteous and fair, Among the mist from the glass to dampen my unknown tear. ` The Not So Vague Untruth Contradiction __5/28/98 I love the shadow of skirted flame Beneath the loins lively leaping to me in gentle pain. A flirt, she speckles in a mirrored meadow gayly, Though to some in meeting breaks noon. Alas in licking dances we stroll about flailing, But anon the rider storms to soon. Fuck you, for what is your constance?-- Has it any but that to stare with your glare in substance; And thus, who am I to insult? Oh what the pleasure and burn in hell too. Why might in tarrying upon a cliff's ledge, I for flying took gleefully to the air Whilst soaring merry in the fall of someone others despair. The free-frolicking fancy I long for.... ...like the song which jolts my mind to summertime, and a lovely mellowness after some wine, and the gentle look from her--oh so sublime.... ...times when I take that smooth drag, and forget all the nothings that make my brain lag, and much much like the twinkling eye I see irridescence careening as the little firefly. ` Blue Tomorrows __1/31, 2/1, 2/8, 2/14/00 Blue tomorrows waitin' for you-- Together, and lonely, I feel it too. Blue, blue sorrows-- My sweet baby in her baby blues. This new-time morning I'm not so blue. Cruising sideways down the windows, At the stoplight I can see me in my car-- Body moving to the Seattle grunge-type groove, Looking much too good for bars. The afternoon sunshine sidewalk scene, It's mediocre but gets me through. And on rainbow days some vixen struts by-- With boots made for walkin' she slips out of view ...Doesn't she always?--it's true. I'm driving out In the desert sun that's gone now With some sweet miss I'd picked up for coffee, And my windows are rolled down. She likes taking photos of people And I'm her easy choice. I like how her hair smells And when it flows with the wind. She feels at home To hear the deep Texas tone of my voice. Fiendish rays emitted themselves In the black light When none seem quite so right, But I stepped onward After this torch in the forest, Carried by a heathen whose voice came out poreous. It was my vision of a cloud Led by chain through foggy pines of the morrow; Whose captain walked heavy and loud, Bidding the ladies please drink down their sorrow. What a dream to wake to On an early dank hotel morn!-- Trying to remember symbolic details to decipher... And which pair of pants is most worn? My sweet for-coffee-pick-her-up sunshine gal Lies dreaming on the bed, And I'll watch her for a while _In repose on this couch To think of what I'd said. "Dream me sweet dreams of dream-type things," I told her as she lay down to sleep, "And I'll be close near With too many thoughts of you Feeling like a midnight creep." Sleeping took us through a day While the world ran about, inept, And we stirred unto jocularity-- To see the sunset, my companion wept. Carpe Noctem, so we're headed For a drive in the night. 'A million fucking colors,' I hollered To a lanky passerby. But a rush of sunsets and coffee slips away 'Til my farewell be down the road. She'd rather sleep in that passenger seat Than in any bed a house could hold. The moonlight on her face, Sad songs sing in my mind, "We're both just one too many mornings And a thousand miles behind." Turn the tunes up And I've another five miles to the gallon in store. If not, being stranded With good company can never be a bore. Ah, but I'm just driving and thinking I feel alone until she moves, 'Til she raises her face to smile at me I'll drive on with nothing to prove. A night later and I'm not drivin', And sweet baby left her kisses with bye-bye 'Cause there's a point where young lusty love subsides And you choose to love 'em or fly. But she and I weren't ever in love; It was her time to go on a new way. But I've sat and stared in the dark this past little while Though this ominous scene is no place to stay. Speeding aimlessly through back roads-- These places I don't know too well-- Talking aloud to myself over music Of a girl I'd hit on who couldn't tell. The cool breezy groove entering a twilight town, I'm caught up in dimly-lit hep bass-line joy. Walk 'round mumbling, "Take a walk on the wild side," And be sure my grins for these dolls be coy. ` Lying Glum __7/25/98 Who am I to be so dreary Like the little wanton boy? And who are you to be so adored? Pictuer me on a wall of two or three in the...snow. I would like much to be there. Can I go? I wanna talk to a real nice person on a late afternoon. I wanna be the one to hold you out from confines of a room. Don't let me run....I feel so glum. I hear you calling, but I don't see your reason for putting me on. You won't answer me when I come around. Kiss and make wine--faded out, relaxed-fit lies-- I long for a scream, still her hugs put me more at ease. Drink some water for me, I can't bear it anymore. Where do the windows roam when I am so cold? So let me be anymore, And with your tenderness I plead take me in. For far too long now I've tarried in doors, So take me in your arms and give me shelter from the storm. Sleep long and well for me, I can't bear it anymore. ` Cryin' Spontaneied Liquor Visions of June for She the Fiening,... or Flamenco Fellaheen Dusty Wines,... or Fresh Fruit __Sept21'02 1:23pm We were drinking wine & cryin' loud the sleeping sun Above the eyes where fireflies light the way for none. All the days I'd stared the bars stole away from my mind Enough to know what love can't show, won't catch what we don't find. Visions caught aside the way the moonbrow eyes were wide, Aloof sat she--the yestergleem, my glee-rich lovely sighs-- And swine had found me bound in booze, sway-head singin' tune. Come & see the death of me anytime drunk & blue. I can't feel the dayglow, the wonderment days done. Sing for June a trickled doom--glee-mad lonely one-- Gimme only hugs & kisses; Yesterdays are not the only ones. Deep dark vacuum sight she spies me, And I'm far to stay 'midst balloons. Svelte, the penurous garb she dawns now-- In memory grandiloquent swoon. Does not ever fill the voidness, Bathe your wounds in holy sweat. .... Wrangle the twilight-- Licked liquor brims a-blazing. Raked down in the sand--the bullet whistle tune-- Hide away in the languor we spontaneied was June. Fallen spacecoaster mondo yuppies I can't ride along. Dreams of her, the me I've met when the rain 'as gone all wrong. Bent low emancipation junkies Save us all! Kill 'em all!--fresh fruit. Flowing, long, red beaut I'm fiening, Drinking all my beer & my root. ` Shattered Lantern Blues __Apr9'03 Three men gon fishin' to the tumbleweed waterin' hole-- Sun spot teeth threefold twinkle & spree, Enough from aloof she seen 'em casperly. Late the day, sprung onward lackaday timepieces, Hotter than not a clime cancer call. I got yonder velvets from the calling of Turquoise iris blinks in west-whipped winds. Kiss & tell, remorse & love--tattered doves-- Green patch resurrection grass of lost canteens. Evenin' jug porch sandy breeze shades Where broken frame hangs of her Near low cumulous, lavender & perriwinkle. Glints of steel slung shoulder, Ether grins & vagabonds & all the blah, Crepe biped crooning through dead leaves. A goat skin full-a prickly pears & a wonder bra, Trinkets pondered long enough to ease. Gallopin' cracked chaps-- Slap happy rid benign horseflies Scale the rocks & thwart compass valley groves. Keep eyes posted for the waking hour. Filaments busted & shattered lantern blues. Give those hierarchy bruisers cold lip balm Brace bristle thighs-- Sad lusts upending doom-- And don't cry too loud 'cause yer proud; Just let the tears hang close. How were they to warrant twinkle toes? Gems & amethyst, redolent oils, Cocks at dawn fer the mission boils at noon So risers early get their fill. Two pack habits & blood in the dirt Ridin' all the while & ripped a skirt on vines Of some wayward oasis. Spark to the guns, never got the letter, Veins full-a morphine so to know which better suits 'im; Comes a-pullin' in late quiet spurs.
Hours blanched behatted brows
A slow death-grin of whys & hows.
To know today 's the day,
Saddness drowned.
Down, down it comes, plunging rains & hail & howls.
Flood yer boots, yer soul, & her raped eyes.
Cry, cry, baby, take your horse & ride.
Run to your savior--
The devil's about to die.
Stick 'im with his knife & fly, baby, fly
Off through the nettles & burrs & wind
Off to hills where he's hid,
Bit & stung & beat & hummin' tunes for you in caveness darks of lonesome.