bags123

[bags123]

<center>Archive for bags123:</center>

<a name="#index">Table of Contents</a>
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Part One

<a href="#001">Rivers of Silence</a>
<a href="#002">Ebony's Embers</a>
<a href="#003">Harmonious Generation</a>
<a href="#004">Moderator Limericks for Heinz, Berlie, Ven</a>
<a href="#005">Thinking of Blue</a>
<a href="#006">Slippery</a>
<a href="#007">The Waves</a>
<a href="#008">hello</a>
<a href="#009">Wild Wood</a>
<a href="#010">She Feeds Them Dreams</a>
<a href="#011">Walk Down From Heaven</a>
<a href="#012">Cigarette Butts</a>
<a href="#013">Swallowing Flight</a>
<a href="#014">Hear How Erin Cries - 1846</a>
<a href="#015">Unbridled Steps</a>
<a href="#016">Huh?</a>
<a href="#017">Thoughts of Blue (rewrite 5-19-03)</a>
<a href="#018">Steel Liquid Curtain</a>
<a href="#019">Picture Puppets (for Toby)</a>
<a href="#020">Patience of the Dead</a>
<a href="#021">Feigned Subtlety</a>
<a href="#022">The Plastic Salesman</a>
<a href="#023">Little Things</a>
<a href="#024">A Philosopher Stoned</a>
<a href="#025">Smiling in the Dust</a>
<a href="#026">Guardian</a>
<a href="#027">Ghosts on the Shoreline</a>
<a href="#028">Trapped Within</a>
<a href="#029">Is This Quite Enough?</a>
<a href="#030">A Cache of Hidden Treasures</a>
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Part Two</a>

<a href="#031">Moving the Law</a>
<a href="#032">Rivers of Silence</a>
<a href="#033">Come Ye Home</a>
<a href="#034">ANTI – POET</a>
<a href="#035">A Harsh Wind in Ireland</a>
<a href="#036">tears from Ireland</a>
<a href="#037">The Exchange</a>
<a href="#038">Is This Quite Enough?</a>
<a href="#039">One Catholic's Conclusion</a>
<a href="#040">Above the World</a>
<a href="#041">Small Glories</a>
<a href="#042">clean sheets</a>
<a href="#043">A Story Well Told</a>
<a href="#044">silent tongue</a>
<a href="#045">10 Things I Like about The French</a>
<a href="#046">P on US</a>
<a href="#047">Lost Connection</a>
<a href="#048">Sterotypes</a>
<a href="#049">Untamed</a>
<a href="#050">Shopping Trip</a>
<a href="#051">Divine Justice</a>
<a href="#052">"Simple Truth"</a>
<a href="#053">A Philosopher Stoned</a>
<a href="#054">Standing Back</a>
<a href="#055">"Just one last Hug before I go"</a>
<a href="#056">"Soft Touch of Blue"</a>
<a href="#057">Heart's Companion</a>
<a href="#058">"Undying"</a>
<a href="#059">Rude Forgiveness</a>
<a href="#060">Altar of Shame</a>
<a href="#061">Run on Sentience</a>
<a href="#062">"Uncertain Seas"</a>
<a href="#063">"FLAG"</a>
<a href="#064">Reconsidered</a>
<a href="#065">Quiet Loves Promise</a>
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Part Three

<a href="#066">No haiku</a>
<a href="#067">Candy Wrappers</a>
<a href="#068">striving</a>
<a href="#069">A Shadow of the First Dawn</a>
<a href="#070">"Ode to Julian (The apostate)"</a>
<a href="#071">Danu's Children</a>
<a href="#072">Cuchullin's Hounds</a>
<a href="#073">He Crys</a>
<a href="#074">Secret Passages</a>
<a href="#075">Lord of These Things</a>
<a href="#076">Crackers and Dip</a>
<a href="#077">It Ended on a Monday</a>
<a href="#078">Expresso</a>
<a href="#079">Eternity is Vacant</a>
<a href="#080">Genisis?</a>
<a href="#081">"Seasons"</a>
<a href="#082">"NO SMARTER"</a>
<a href="#083">"Rice Burner"</a>
<a href="#084">"While the Sun Waits"</a>
<a href="#085">"Farm Dream"</a>
<a href="#086">"Status Quo"</a>
<a href="#087">"Freedoms Child"</a>
<a href="#088">howl in cyberspace</a>
<a href="#089">"Especially in These Times"</a>
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Part Four

<a href="#090">!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</a>
<a href="#091">Love Can't be Written</a>
<a href="#092">Every Sunday</a>
<a href="#093">The Red Wagon</a>
<a href="#094">Moon and Stars</a>
<a href="#095">A Poet's Curse</a>
<a href="#096">When Swans Fly</a>
<a href="#097">Moody in Morenci</a>
<a href="#098">While the Sun Waits</a>
<a href="#099">"Find us Lost"</a>
<a href="#100">Farm Dream</a>
<a href="#101">The Devil Lives in Memphis</a>
<a href="#102">Distracted</a>
<a href="#103">7th @ 26th NYC</a>
<a href="#104">After</a>
<a href="#105">Soft Touch of Blue</a>
<a href="#106">"Cinderella Drunk"</a>
<a href="#107">"Deaths Dismal Features"</a>
<a href="#108">Cheers</a>
<a href="#109">The Mystery of God</a>
<a href="#110">"Simple Truth" </a>
<a href="#111">Dragon Ships</a>
<a href="#112">A Dissonate Requiem</a>
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Part Five

<a href="#113">Knowing Full Well</a>
<a href="#114">Forbidden Forest</a>
<a href="#115">Oedipus Wrecks</a>
<a href="#117">The Beginning</a>
<a href="#118">The Eventuality of Nothing</a>
<a href="#119">The Helm</a>
<a href="#120">Reviving Jimmy Swaggert</a>
<a href="#122">Over and Over</a>
<a href="#123">Let Death be the Cure</a>
<a href="#124">Leviathan Stirs</a>
<a href="#126">Critics</a>
<a href="#127">Weapons of Mass Distraction</a>
<a href="#129">Cataclysmic Germ</a>
<a href="#130">Life's Vintage</a>
<a href="#131">Intoxicating Invitation</a>
<a href="#132">Speed Freak</a>
<a href="#134">"Big Daddy's Revelation to the Masses"</a>
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Part Six

<a href="#136">"Fridays at McGeary's Pub"</a>
<a href="#137">Animosity (among friends) </a>
<a href="#138">Cities (take 2)</a>
<a href="#139">Jerusalem</a>
<a href="#141">Spiral Stairs</a>
<a href="#142">"Congenital Bores"</a>
<a href="#143">Philistines</a>
<a href="#144">Welcome Night</a>
<a href="#145">Conversation at Artists Rock</a>
<a href="#146">Thoughts from a Bridge</a>
<a href="#147">Superfluous Solitude</a>
<a href="#148">Friendly Enemies</a>
<a href="#149">Passion's Passing</a>
<a href="#150">A Beauteous Flower</a>
<a href="#152">Honeydoll</a>
<a href="#153">Not the bottom of your shoes</a>
<a href="#155">P on US</a>
<a href="#156">Hooligans</a>
<a href="#157">Altar of Shame (take 2)</a>
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Part Seven

<a href="#158">Mind Storm</a>
<a href="#159">Above Adversity</a>
<a href="#160">"After"</a>
<a href="#161">The Selkie's Skin</a>
<a href="#162">Fast Forward</a>
<a href="#163">Knowing Full Well</a>
<a href="#164">Lawyer Love Letter</a>
<a href="#165">"Moon and Stars"</a>
<a href="#166">Do the Math</a>
<a href="#167">For Van Morrison</a>
<a href="#168">Heaven is vacant</a>
<a href="#169">I'm Certain</a>
<a href="#170">The Helm</a>
<a href="#171">Texan Limerick</a>
<a href="#172">Preston Limerick #2</a>
<a href="#173">Bugle Limerick</a>
<a href="#174">Washing Sewers Clean</a>
<a href="#175">Safe Harbors</a>
<a href="#176">Leviathan Stirs</a>
<a href="#177">Cinderella Drunk</a>
<a href="#178">Birds of Prey</a>
<a href="#179">Crackers and Dip</a>
<a href="#180">Willy John</a>
<a href="#181">Recommended Reading</a>
<a href="#182">Cold Steel on my Temple</a>
<a href="#183">An Irish Poem by John Lennon</a>
<a href="#184">Better to Pretend</a>
<a href="#185">Beat Down</a>
<a href="#186">I'm Certain</a>
<a href="#187">Digesting the Turkeys</a>
<a href="#188">"Congenital Bores"(3rd in the trilogy w/Philistine)</a>
<a href="#189">"Philistines"</a>
<a href="#190">Evergreen</a>
<a href="#192">Incognito</a>
<a href="#193">The Exchange</a>
<a href="#194">"A Stronger Metal"</a>
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Part Eight

<a href="#195">Substance Abuse</a>
<a href="#196">Credentials</a>
<a href="#197">OIL CHANGE</a>
<a href="#198">Epiphany 2002?</a>
<a href="#199">Fooling Myself</a>
<a href="#200">The Beast</a>
<a href="#201">Damn Machine!</a>
<a href="#202">Do what you do</a>
<a href="#203">What is a Poet?</a>
<a href="#204">My Reality</a>
<a href="#205">Tall Tales on the Mountain</a>
<a href="#206">Winter Walk</a>
<a href="#207">Look Out World</a>
<a href="#208">Clouds Before the Storm</a>
<a href="#209">Former Love Letter</a>
<a href="#210">Midnight</a>
<a href="#211">Disclaimers</a>
<a href="#212">As We Soar On The Wind</a>
<a href="#213">Still Both Alive</a>
<a href="#214">Where Once Love Belonged</a>
<a href="#215">Solitary Clone</a>
<a href="#216">Enigmatic Faith</a>
<a href="#217">"Hollow People"</a>
<a href="#218">Families</a>
<a href="#219">A Shift into Slow</a>
<a href="#220">Against A Tide Of Dark Delights</a>
<a href="#221">The Depths Below</a>
<a href="#222">Flights of Fancy</a>
<a href="#223">Final Demonstration</a>

[bags123]

Part One
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<a name="#001">Rivers of Silence</a>

I'm reaching a point
in this long passion play,
where the purpose is fading,
just drifiting away.

It's a comfortable place,
where my ego is stilled,
and the rivers of silence
offer words to my quill

In "Solitudes Garden"
near "Detachment's Bay",
as the tides of indifferance
wash higher each day

Futility whispers,
sereneties songs
telling lies to my wisdom,
that nothing is wrong

I'll pour one more whiskey,
to take off the chill,
as the rivers of silence
offer words to my quill.
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<a name="#002">Ebony's Embers</a>

Gradient shades from ebony's embers
encourage the night
within duskey folds

Elegance floats midst starry suspenders
shining so bright
inside heaven's mold

Persistant Gods awaiting my tribute
I fall to the ground
in worship and awe

Hesitant muse attempting a salute
unleashing the sound
for what my eyes saw
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<a name="#003">Harmonious Generation</a>

Gaia
trembles
within the
volcanic depths
of her molten
bituminous bowels

Earthly
nightmares
disturbing the balenced,
muti-faceted dreams
of the Titan's
matriarch.

Anger,
fiercely awakens
her unbridled fury

Floods
Winds
Quakes
Fires

Cleanse
the momentary
contamination

Before
she returns
to her sleeping
aspirations
of a harmonious
generation.
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<a name="#004">Moderator Limericks for Heinz, Berlie, Ven</a>

An elegant woman named Ven
has been writing poems since she was ten
her families been poised
in great fear from the noise
as she screams about finding her pen

There once was a German named Heinz
Who would conjugate all others lines
If they got too verbose
When offering a toast
He'd impose a moderate fine.

A delicate angel named Berlie
had hair that was full and quite curley
She rarly was seen
behind all the screens
she thought poets rude and too surley

*Written with love and appreciation for all you do
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<a name="#005">Thinking of Blue</a>

Ashes fill my thoughts of blue
Disdain explodes the windowed hue
Venetian blinds obstruct all view
and shade my brain from thoughts of blue

Fire burns my furnaced heart
Crackling flames consume apart
The trust I had in blue to start
now burned within my furnaced heart

Rain falls on my fallow fields
Drowning seeds of future yields
I live behind indentured sheilds
as rain falls on my fallow fields

Wind blows through my vacant halls
Empty,.... of what I recall
The leaves of Autumn softly fall
Then winter snows fill vacant halls
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<a name="#006">Slippery</a>

Fantasy...,
divine copulation,
anarchic coitus,
without hesitation.

Slippery...,
my imagination,
illusions are forming,
the seeds of creation
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<a name="#007">The Waves</a>

Cruel,.. lay the waves,
out upon the stoney sheath.
Striking with a cosmic force,
portending no
relief.

Cruel,.. drives the rain,
on the ships far out to sea.
Men will dream of distant homes,
where lovers used
to be.

Cruel,.. are the storms,
which perplex the human heart.
Pounding in the selfish coves,
that keep us all
apart.

Cruel,...is the night,
keeping dark what humans see
Lighted beacons on the shoreline
showing our
insanity
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<a name="#008">hello</a>

HELLO?
Hello......?
Hello
Hello
Hello?????

hello, hello, hello, hello...............
Goodbye
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<a name="#009">Wild Wood</a>

It's time to leave
my love....
The mistress moon
commands us
"walk the starlit paths
of the wild wood,
leaving restraints behind"
The ferocious
freedoms of our
animal kin
await us
in sanguine
saturnalia

Don't be afraid
of pleasures,
my love.....
For beauty can't
be kept under lock and key,
jealously.....
Nor can I expect
to be your only
worshiper
Be free to share
desire among
the needy
with me.

And on this night,
should a seed
take hold
within your temple
The Sun will
be mine
on the morrow
My joy....
will be measured
by all that you are,
all that you've
given me,
so abundantly
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<a name="#010">She Feeds Them Dreams</a>

A starlight dancer's face pretends
to enjoy the leers of
lonely men

She feeds them dreams when she descends
to levels where good taste
must end

Alone and naked on the stage,
her smile will hide a
silent rage.

Contempt contained by drug's disguise
no patron sees her
weary eyes.

The brassy pole,... the music beats....
It feels so cold
inside the heat

Beside her youth,... her age repeats....
and money buys what
freedom seeks
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<a name="#011">Walk Down From Heaven</a>

When the new morning comes,
ther'll be sun in my eyes,
ther'll be truth in my coffee
way beyond compromise

When the new morning comes,
I'll be younger and free,
forgetting this life
that's been burdening me

When the new morning comes,
the dark clouds disappear,
and the birds will be singing,
for just me to hear.

When the new morning comes,
I'll breathe crystaline air
As you walk down from heaven
to welcome me there.
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<a name="#012">Cigarette Butts</a>

Those introspective moments......
minds frozen stashs
When memory caches
and time backlashs

Words drift through space.....,
in vapid dashs,
ghostly moustaches, on
spectral splashs

I wander within .......
each butt rehashs,
in cancerous flashs
your face in ashes
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<a name="#013">Swallowing Flight</a>

Leaping from Chimneys.
Pirouetting on air.
Light from orange
painted twilights...
The suns dying
glare.

Cascading like waterfalls
under the clouds
Migrating torpedos,
flying in
flocking
crowds

Moving to rhythms
of airborne conceit
Swallowing flight,
in which
men can't
compete
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<a name="#014">Hear How Erin Cries - 1846</a>

Gather round and hear me boys
find seats if you are able
Our plans are laid for all to view
upon this weathered table.

We've bled to long.
Our children cry
Wild dogs run
at their feet.

Our crops have died
from foreign blight
We search for
scraps of meat

Gather round and hear me boys
its time we make amends
To fight for Irish freedom
against that which does offend

My father stood
and took the lash
scars framed his
broken back

Before he died
I promised him
to avenge those
bloody tracks

Gather round and hear me boys
tis for no more nobler cause
than to defend your families
against these repressive laws

We've grovelled in
these muddy fields
While our women
meet their needs

We've leased our land
from British lords
who've usurped
our rightful deeds

Gather round and hear me boys
Can you hear how Erin cries?
Calling all,
who hear her voice.

"BRAVE FENIANS NOW ARISE"!
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<a name="#015">Unbridled Steps</a>

No rider reins
this hollow horse
Unsaddled,
gallops
down its
course

Unbridled steps
from ghostly hooves
Unsettling,
outside
nature's
moves

Unburdened by,
the grace of God
She runs where
mortals
never
trod

Besotted with
a demon's power
She summons
midnight's
dark lit
hour

Unlimbered,
prancing,
at my door
I'll ride with her
to distant
shores.
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<a name="#016">Huh?</a>

Excuse me?
Who me?
yeah,.....did you say
something?
Huh?
Huh?
Did I say
something?
NO.
Nevermind then.
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<a name="#017">Thoughts of Blue (rewrite 5-19-03)</a>

Ashes filled with thoughts of blue
Disdain implodes the windowed hue
Venetian blinds obstruct my view
and shade my brain from thinking blue

Fire lights my furnaced heart
Crackling flames consume apart
The trust I had in you to start
now burned within my furnaced heart

Rain falls on my fallow fields
Drowning seeds of future yields
I live behind indentured sheilds
as rain falls on my fallow fields

Wind blows through a vacant hall
Empty,.... of what I recall
The leaves of Autumn softly fall
Then winter snows fill vacant halls
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<a name="#018">Steel Liquid Curtain</a>

Up through Mexico
fly the assorted
indiginous species
migrating northward

On the wings of dreams
and broken logic
Paradise just the
other side of hell

Only the river's
steel liquid curtain
prohibits their claim
to salvation

By moonlit shadows
the swirling waters
give the illusion
of friendly welcome

Its ebony flow
projects sad faces
with the memories
of homes left behind

The old life is gone!
Grandfather's village,
Mestizo mothers,
the salt of the earth

Hidden tumble weeds
in the desert sand
waiting at the edge
of the Rio Grande
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<a name="#019">Picture Puppets (for Toby)</a>

Mephisto's mid-wives
in flagrant delecto
slither and squirm
serpent sluts in
bad taste

Pages exposing
a circus of strumpets
Painted for lust
with an eye for
black lace

Porcelin airbrush
arouses male senses
Parading their silicon
mammery
glands

Venial image
of hot picture puppets
tongue sucking trollops
from fantasy
land
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<a name="#020">Patience of the Dead</a>

I'm immune to traffic jams,
contortions, and twists
Never noticed the snake's bite,
ignoring its kiss

I can't fight getting sicker
by weilding my fists
There's no more winning tactics
if you get my gist

While I wait in the office,
the nurses read lists
The damn T.V.'s blaring,
because I insist

I resent Ba Ba Wa Wa's
shrill tremulous lisp,
with her knashing of teeth at
celebrity trysts

My doctor just entered
He looks rather pissed
It seems I've developed
a cancerous cyst

Now if I were still younger,
then I would persist
But,my patience is ending,
the pain won't be missed
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<a name="#021">Feigned Subtlety</a>

O'er the blood stained
fields of valor,
and generations gone
My mind has plumbed
the ancient depths
with their buried
bardic songs

I hear the clash
of spectral steel
Runic swords from those long dead
When I turn the page......,
a hero dies....
As I read ,ensconced
in bed.

Perhaps the life I've
yearned to live
Cannot be found today
All our enemies are
non-descript.......
Just one button
push away

Still... if I could choose
another time
I'd forgo the luxuries,
To be unbending
in my passion
and forget feigned
subtleties

To meet unjustice
face to face........then,
decapitate it's head
But I'll persevere,
my own time here
Paying legal bills
instead
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<a name="#022">The Plastic Salesman</a>

When it's time to lay down
this hard earned golden crown
fabricated in new modern
plastic

It'll be there for thee
and all people to see
since forever becomes quite
elastic

I sold flexible film
in the east and the west
In my youth, I was simply
gymnastic

I excelled at my job
selling big plastic blobs
Closing deals I was almost
orgiastic

But the time has now come
I'm left sucking my thumb
As the markets become so
damn spastic

All that I've had to say
is now fading away
The time left I'll live as a
monastic
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<a name="#023">Little Things</a>

It's the little things
which mean
the most

Fresh butter spread
on mornings
toast

Warm slippers,
like old wooly
ghosts

Slow down my stride
I've
diagnosed

It's the little things
which mean
alot

Fresh water boiled
in my
pot

To have the time
to drink my
tea

And have you say,
that you
love me
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<a name="#024">A Philosopher Stoned</a>

I'd like to dance
with the angels
on the head of
a pin

Do the tango
while naked
wearing only
a grin

To imagine the
sounds that my
ears fail to see

To taste some new sights
that my eyes say
can't be

To feel midnight
carressing it's tongue
on my skin

To buy lottery tickets
which always
will win

I'd like to know
if falling trees
really make
a sound

When they're deep
in the forest,
and nobody's
around

To ponder the puzzle
of migrating
geese

To ask myself if I
should buy or
just lease

I'd read science fiction,
then produce
science fact

Establish new answers
for those that
I lack

I'd like to walk
with Steve Hawking
telling him a
few jokes

I'd explain:
"God's creation
was concieved when
he toked".
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<a name="#025">Smiling in the Dust</a>

My ear hears your mouth
spit and sputter
forming abstract notions,
while I see myself
smiling,........
in the dust.
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<a name="#026">Guardian</a>

A scented whisper I detect
the voice of one which I suspect
can guide me to the place we met
and encourage me to
progress

A hidden face which does reside
behind the clouds of stormy skies
will watch me from its post on high
and protect me from all
peril

A gentle hand may reach for me
an apple taken from life's tree
At last your visage I can see
as together, we'll walk
homeward
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<a name="#027">Ghosts on the Shoreline</a>

On Acadia's stoney shoreline,
hosted by rough weathered pines,
I will spread our linen tablecloth
on these rocks as old as time

A match to light my single candle,
and recall how you'd be pleased
While I sit upon your memory
in the North Atlantic's breeze

Red wine of vintage lusty flavor,
from the year when we first met
Saved for just such an occasion
Had you thought that I'd forget?

Erratic waves of ghostly seagulls
Ply the air above the sea
Their lonesome crys blend with the ocean
in their search for you and me

The years have passed in slow progression,
with you absent from my side
But soon enough we'll be together
Joining hands beyond these tides
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<a name="#028">Trapped Within</a>

Nets
of grey string shadows
fall
Over
rays of summer
sun
Thunder
casts its distant
call
Warning
more storms yet to
come
Tiny
droplets start to
slip
Catapulted
from dark
shrouds
To
capture my
occasion
Trapped
within these dreary
clouds
____________________________
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____________________________

<a name="#029">Is This Quite Enough?</a>

Is this quite enough,
to merely survive?

Is that all there is,
to being alive?

Does fate intercede,
with means to our end?

Should eagles fly down,
to roost with the hens?

Are planets and stars,
prescribed in their paths?

Is mystery solved,
by using "New Math"?

Will science extract,
emotions from dreams?

Are "Free Agents" gone,
regardless of teams?

Is this quite enough......,
to merely survive?

Or is there much more
"to being alive"
______________________________
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______________________________

<a name="#030">A Cache of Hidden Treasures</a>

Where green mountains verdant slopes collide
with a sky of sapphire blue
Beneath oak trees dangling emerald leaves
beside the clear streams view

Under fields of starlit diamonds
Sparkling bright in night's abyss
I'll exchange my gem of innocence
for one red ruby kiss

Your hands touch becomes my treasure
Your smile offers snowy pearls
I'll search the cache of golden pleasures
Hidden by long auburn curls
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[bags123]

Part Two
_________________________
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<a name="#031">Moving the Law</a>

Way down in
Mobile Alabama
Where the
Sweet magnolias grow

Humid air
Hangs like
The Spanish moss
In a place where life is slow

Here,
Traditions last much longer
Than they survive
On either coast

In fact;
They’re always celebrated
With mint juleps
In a toast

So it really comes
As no surprise
When Mobile
Was in the news

It seems
Her citizens
Won’t condone
The latest liberal views

A marble monument
To morals
In the court
Where it belongs

Has been
Debated by attorneys
And they feel
It should be gone

It’s stood for many years
Through war and peace
At this
Locality

But now
The judges say
That some object
To its audacity

Will we remove
The 10 cammandments
From our
Constitution’s laws?

Should we
Break down our legal system
With new hammers, drills,
And saws?

Can we serve
Every special interest
In this lands
Diversity?

If we cherish
That which made us strong
Are we still
Considered free?

Yes,
Who's to say
on a darkened day
when some beaurocrats decide

They'll break down
your door
Kick you to the floor
then pretend its suicide
_________________________
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_________________________

<a name="#032">Rivers of Silence</a>

I'm reaching a point
in this long passion play,
where my purpose is fading,
just drifiting away.

It's a comfortable place,
when my ego is stilled,
and the rivers of silence
offer words to my quill

In "Solitudes Garden"
near "Detachment's Bay",
all the tides of indifferance
wash higher each day

Futility whispers,
sereneties songs
telling lies to my wisdom,
that nothing is wrong

I'll pour one more whiskey,
to take off the chill,
as the rivers of silence
offer words to my quill.
_________________________
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<a name="#033">Come Ye Home</a>


If you’ve a drop
Of Irish blood
swelling deep
inside your heart

and your feet
can’t keep from tapping
when a fiddler
plays his part

If your tempers
known to rise and fall
like waves on
Irish seas

And your not afraid
to shed a tear,
or pray
down on your knees

If 3 pints
of bitter porter
sooths the troubles
from your soul

and the lilt
of friendly laughter
makes your own
hard to control

If you’ve found
That Irish whiskey
gives new eyesight
to the blind

and you’ve roamed
our rocky backroads
just to see
what you could find

If you’ve heard
The "Gael" a’calling
from the mists
on Galway’s bay

Then come ye home
to Ireland
For it’s here
that ye should stay.
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<a name="#034">ANTI – POET</a>


I think
Poets are whiners!
Sanctimonious twits!
Segregated from normals!
Pompous,
Dull, witted shits!

Their eyes glaze
In the light,
Of a crisp lucid day,

As they sit
On their ass
Writing something to say

They imagine themselves
"The Grand Anguished
Ar-Tiste"

Wear illicit facades
Never owned,
Only leased

I think
Poets are losers!
Intellectual slobs!
Wanking off on blank pages
Spewing
Adjective blobs

Possessed by mad logic
Which pervades
what they write

Phrases criss/cross
All meanings
Beneath my eyesight

Tell me!
How can they live
In their trite masquerade

Taking solace in verse,
from their
Wordy parades

I think
Poets make trouble
For most people like me
Because……
We’ll never admit
Our desire to be free
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<a name="#035">A Harsh Wind in Ireland</a>

Aye,...
a bit of a bite,
on this God awful night
A harsh wind rushs
long on the shore

As
this jar of poteen,
warms my bones in it's stream,
the gale rattles
and shakes my backdoor

One
can hear the heartache,
in each breath that it takes,
blowing pipes like
hell's demon jongleur

So
I'll start a duet,
with the cold, wind, and wet
While my fiddle
joins nature's uproar

'Neath
the thunderous rain,
you can hear our refrain
As my notes sound
amidst the downpour

In
this cottage I'll sit,
with my eyes dimly lit,
playing songs with
my stormy mentor
_______________________
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<a name="#036">tears from Ireland</a>

Hello old friend, it's sad to see
you lieing there so cold
No vibrant sun can warm your face
upon this last threshold

May the stars come out to greet you
as the piper plays his tune
I'll raise my glass to memories
life ended far too soon.

Just as you asked the "Starry Plough"
is draped above your head
to catch the tears from Ireland
for her patriotic dead

Tonight we'll keep the vigal
tell more stories, reminisce
Next morning load our weapons,
drain the dragon, take a piss

Then onward to our freedom
"One Irish Soverignty"
they can never kill our passion
FUCK the bloody R.U.C.!
______________________________
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<a name="#037">The Exchange</a>

My spirit wandered outside my body,
2 steps beyond my fleshly constraints
Try as I might,... I could not catch up.

I trudged onward, bleeding aimlessly
Alone across the war torn landscape
Believing in nothing, except survival

My rifle became an unwilling crutch
It's mud filled muzzle the only support
to my shell shocked consciousness.

Sheilding my eyes against the sun's glare,
another figure stumbles across the carnage
He's wearing tattered enemy colors

Both of us stop to stare at the shared irony.
Both of us puzzled by the others disposition
Both of us no longer intrigued by righteousness

After careful assesment, we move forward,
each in our own opposite, directionless path
Through what remains of our conflict.

Briefly, we stop to size each other up
He silently offers me his canteen
I hand him my last stained cigarette.
_____________________________
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<a name="#038">Is This Quite Enough?</a>

Is this quite enough,
to merely survive?

Is that all there is,
to being alive?

Does fate intercede,
with means to our end?

Should eagles fly down,
to roost with the hens?

Are planets and stars,
prescribed in their paths?

Is mystery solved,
by using "New Math"?

Will science extract,
emotions from dreams?

Are "Free Agents" gone,
regardless of teams?

Is this quite enough......,
to merely survive?

The questions of life,
"just being alive"
_________________________
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<a name="#039">One Catholic's Conclusion</a>


I've turned around
one eighty degrees
I'm tired of pleading
on my knees

I've looked outside
my list of sins
To find the beast
resides within

With glowing lies
its speech forsakes
The holy truth
men should partake

Enraptured by
a throne of gold
That's stained with blood
from days of old

Prelates sing their
heavenly songs
Pretending there
is nothing wrong

But deep inside
the rotting bowels,
somethings amiss
it's gone afoul
________________________
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<a name="#040">Above the World</a>


A salute
to every poet,
who has spilled ink
from their pens

On blank pages,
through the ages,
you've inscribed
the thoughts of men

In the darkness
at the dawn of time,
words tumbled
from your breast

Into mystic,
metered,rhythms.
Only shamans
could express

You're the seed
of every magic
heard within
a human heart

You've lifted us
above the world
God has blessed
the poet's art.
_______________________
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<a name="#041">Small Glories</a>


When I was 18,
this small village
seemed hopelessly adrift
Outside life's main currents

The same people.
Small glories
They shared saddness,
and enjoyed their stories

I returned at 35
My search for meaning
realized in those things
I had tried to escape

The same people
Small glories
To share saddness,
and enjoy their stories.
__________________________
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<a name="#042">clean sheets</a>

Lightly scented
Hung on the clothsline
Dryed beside,
a springtime breeze

Cotten currents
Melted with sunshine
Will abide,
my need to dream

I'll rest my head
Upon my pillows
As you lie,
so close to me

With all the grace,
of weeping willows
Your last sigh,
sends me to sleep
___________________
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<a name="#043">A Story Well Told</a>

Aye,..how your feet
made a path where
they walked
Through the eiderdown
memories
of Limerick and Cork
To last only a moment
in history's time
But forever impressed
in a young
Irish mind
The stories you breathed
as I sat on your knee
Of the heroes of old,
who would fight
valiantly
I saw them so clearly,
and do to this day
Inspite of the haze
since you're
passing away.
May you sing
with the angels,
and play harps
of gold
No book
holds a match....
to a story
well told
_____________________
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<a name="#044">silent tongue</a>

The words must languish
on my tongue

Unspoken thoughts
reside among

The secrets of a song
un-sung

Encased in amber
they've become

In due respect
for all you've done

The words must languish
on my tongue
__________________________
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<a name="#045">10 Things I Like about The French (For Shannon)</a>

The French are really
quite sublime
Their food is great,
as is their
wine

They wear Berets
upon thier heads,
and usually
they're quite well
read.

They paint...,
produce the best
perfume....,
redecorate....
the largest rooms

Their fashion
is the best
bar none.
While Paris still,
is lots of fun.

But despite
the sum
of all French art,
It really stinks
when Frenchmen fart.
_______________________
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<a name="#046">P on US</a>

Pandering politicians
proliferate
purloined pinheads
proselytize
Pedantic poets
prophetise
para-military punks
pogromize
Pro-active perogatives
protection
pedestrian privacy
pessimistic
Pending problems
predisposition
pharmacys prescribe
prozac
Patriot propaganda
persists
persuasive public
polls
Philadelphia penned
"prostitution"
preambles pompous
platitudes
Pentagon police
Pakistani's
platoons patrol
pashtoons
Population's prosperity
poorer
petroleum's profit's
proceeding
________________________
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<a name="#047">Lost Connection</a>

I was talking
on my mobil phone
in March
two thousand three

When my call
was interrupted
by some
abnormality

"Connection Lost"
These backlit words
appeared
on my display

I suspect
both signals
weakened
from apparent truth decay

Can these fancy,
high-tech gadgets
learn to
read a human mind?

Or does this new
convenience
make us lose
the ties which bind?

We're a lonely
high-speed culture
built on
new technology

It dictates
progressive movement
from a
life in jeopardy.

No time to
just drink lemonade
and watch
my kids play ball

No time to
sing a serenade
or hear
bird's springtime calls

No time for
family dinners
Regardless of
the cost

Now it's time
for a reflection
My connection's
just been lost.
_________________
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<a name="#048">Sterotypes</a>

The Spanish Flamenco
and snap castenettes
Mexicans wander
with backs that get wet
Germans are facists
that march in goose step
Russians swill vodka
while riding the steppes

The Irish have tempers
they always get drunk
Jews have their money
inside a big trunk
French eat their pastries
they all drink red wine
Blacks congregate in
those long welfare lines.

We all look at others
in stereo-type
Prejudiced windows
of history's tripe
But all of us laugh,
and all of us sing
That much in common
a new dawn will bring
__________________________
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<a name="#049">Untamed</a>

Masculine notions
of Chivalry's art
are confused by solutions
from the sum of our parts

Civilized reasons
for impotent rage
Our convictions been hiding
in our self-imposed cage

Traditions passed down
from father to son
lay immobile in vapors
of our male delusion

Women have noticed
our unsteady plans
Playing "Moonlight Sonata's"
with timidity's hands

We've been lulled to sleep
by dreams that were sold
The convenience of stress
buys our baubles of gold

So sadly we watch
our sports fantasys
in our manicured castles
on our plasma T.V.'s

But deep down inside
we know somethings wrong
as we file our toenails
to the latest "Rap" song

There's something untamed
beneath the veneer
which can never be quenched
by more pretzels and beer

Men never find it
at Walmart or Sears,
but its free for the thinking
if you open your ears

Be true to yourself
and realize your part
we'll never be rid
of the Warrior's heart.
_________________________
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<a name="#050">Shopping Trip</a>

I have reached a new conclusion.
About life, and its delusions.
We'll never purchase peace of mind
while shopping at
the mall.

I've perused the glowing trinkets.
Pondered lies that make us think it
Can't justify the poison snakes
confounding one
and all.

Those eniticing brazen harlots
(Mad. Ave. pays the skinney starlets)
Confections for our feeble minds
"Blondes always have
more fun."

Such a worrisome indictment.
When the crowds only excitment,
is when the "Blue Light Special" shines
upon us like
the sun

As I leave the retail bunkers
Load into my Chevey Junker
I wonder how my life would change
if I bought a brand
new car
__________________________
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<a name="#051">Divine Justice</a>

What will befall
this spinning orb
when innocence
has died?

Will hope and prayer
be useless then
without our Gods
replies?

The minions will
escape their lairs
in that infernal
place

Unfurl their horrid banners
and unmask
their cruelty's
face

The moon will turn
a scarlet red
Besmirching
nightime skies

Plagues will reign
in arrogance
despite the hungry's
cries

The history of our
insolance
Is long past
overdue

The price for all
our actions,
divine justice
must review
_________________________
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<a name="#052">"Simple Truth"</a>

Will you walk with me
into that forgotten world?
All is possible there,
Dreams, undreamed for 10,000 years.

Leave behind
the false personna's
of this modern prison.
Bath yourself in the warm mud of the ancients.

Earth, Water, Air, and Fire combine
to speed you in your quest
They sing the songs of truth
long ago...lost among our kind

Reveal yourself in nakedness,
for we are nothing more.
Cleanse yourself of inhibition.
Permit the Goddess to embrace you fully.

As your senses tune to a new awareness,
ambiguity vanishes.
Your purpose
becomes the art of living

Realize the simplicity.
No secret mysteries,
No original sin,
Natures fecundity provides the answers

Study carefully, as you can.
The Cycles of our existence
change like the seasons.
Each, teaching us in its own way.

Finally, the sleeper
has awakened.
With this realization,
life renews

Good peace to you
fellow traveler.
Enjoy the world
of your making.
______________________
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<a name="#053">A Philosopher Stoned</a>

I'd like to dance
with the angels
on the head of
a pin

Do the tango
while naked
wearing only
a grin

To hear all those
sounds that my
ears fail to see

To taste some new sights
that my eyes say
can't be

To feel midnight
carressing it's tongue
on my skin

To buy lottery tickets
which always
will win

I'd like to know
if falling trees
really make a
loud sound

When thry're deep
in the forest,
and nobody's
around

To ponder the puzzle
of migrating
geese

To ask myself if I
should buy or
just lease

To read science fiction
or read
science fact

To calculate answers
for those that
I lack

I'd like to walk
with Steve Hawking
telling him a
few jokes

I'll explain:
God's creation
was concieved when
he smoked".
_____________________
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<a name="#054">Standing Back</a>


I stood back far enough
to watch you outgrow
your adolescent adversaries.

It was painful...,
even at my long distance.
My hope never deserted you.

We were confused,
but I remembered who you are,
even when you had forgotten

I was angry,
but that mutual toxicity
never made love irrelavent

I still wonder
how you saw me then?
Inconsequential memorabilia?

I held the thoughts
of better times.
Fishing, hiking, video games.

Now,...I'm just glad
the struggle's over
and you can be my son again.
_____________________________
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<a name="#055">"Just one last Hug before I go"</a>

Dad was always
there for me
Patient, strong, and kind

His advice
was tempered, to the point
few words to mix or grind

I still see him like its yesterday
while I prepped myself for school
"Just one last hug before I go"
was his unbroken rule.

I'd watch his shape
arrange his coat
move briskly thru the doors

A sparkling wink
and he'd be gone
commencing daily chores

Evenings, we'd have time to talk
Then he finally said
"Just one last hug before I go"
It's time we're both in bed

Dad was never pushy
Yet he taught me
right from wrong

A stalwart soul
who wished his son
to grow up proud and strong.

He helped me learn the facts of life
How people plot and scheme
"Just one last hug before I go"
Wasn't always what it seemed

He told me that my future
would depend
on choices made

"Be careful
when the devils due
he's always promptly paid"

College closed my tme at home
It took me far away
"Just one last hug before I go"
was all my Dad could say.

He stood with me a moment
as a tear traced down
his face

Walked to the car
and left the curb
in some unseemly haste

I'll have that picture etched in me
Alone, and forced to stand
"Just one last hug before I go"
revealing natures plan.

So as I took
those first few steps
into my adulthood

I imagined
what my Dad had felt
near parting , where we stood

I think he may have had regrets
that time had gone so fast
"Just one last hug before I go"
to make our memories last.

At 19
I was married,
mistaking need for love

At 22
My first son was born
a blessing form above

I saw him thru my fathers eyes
As once he had seen me
"Just one last hug before I go"
became Dad's legacy.

Then one day
my mother called
distraught over the phone

She said that Dad
was very sick
she thought I should fly home

My Mom sat right beside him
As I entered in the room
near unconscious lay my father
in the twilights sullen gloom

I kissed my Mom
then went to him
hands tightly held in mine

I told him not to worry
everthing would be
just fine.

By some chance he looked at me
his breath a labored sigh
"Just one last hug before I go"
"It's time for me to die"

"I'm proud to have you
for my son,
I wish that I could see"

"Your children raised
and you content,
as you have made me be"

Dad said, "Don't be troubled,
I'm at peace, you need'nt cry"
"Just one last hug before I go"
"We'll meet in pure blue skys"

Dad was always
there for me
Patient, strong, and kind

His advice
was tempered, to the point,
few words to mix or grind.


His abscence leaves a hole inside
thats difficult to fill, but...
"Just one last hug before I go"
has kept him near me still
__________________________
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<a name="#056">"Soft Touch of Blue"</a>

It seems I've always
Known your name
a picture painted
without frame
a song remembered
in great haste
old memories
time can't erase
Colors blend
my thoughts of you
Bold strokes of red
Soft touch of blue
brushed on my canvas
over time
Your rainbow
fills my empty lines
Your picture changes
day by day
reflecting all
you do and say
Like formless clouds
will always be
content
to shift on endlessly
You are the wind
that can't be tamed
you play the satyr's
wild game
All flowing shades
and graceful moods
are savored
as delicious food
I’ll live beside you
breathe your breath
Your willing captive
Unto death
___________________________
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<a name="#057">Heart's Companion</a>

In the glistening moments of passion
In love's soft afterglow
You speak to me in silence
Through my soul your spirit flows


Your breath fans my hidden fires
So long dormant deep within
Eyes filled with understanding
look past my list of sins

Bathed in moisture from emotion
when your body's next to mine
I sense a miracle has happened
turning water into wine

There was a time I thought I knew
the mysteries of life.....
Now you've helped me see more clearly
Hearts companion,...loving wife.
____________________________
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<a name="#058">"Undying"</a>

the roses scarlet petals
drip like blood
rhthymically keeping time
to the period of its
undying

the maple's gallant green robes
now threadbare
obstinatley, few remain
denying the course of its
undying

the sun shivers in darkness
summer's heat
nurturing long memories
of warm beginnings in its
undying

the old woman rocks slowley
joints aching
sightless eyes search the windows
for the clues to her time of
undying
_____________________________
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<a name="#059">Rude Forgiveness</a>


I don't need
your rude forgiveness
offered by
an acid tongue

I still live
with poison bulletts
fired by
your coffined lungs

I don't need
your understanding
never can
I quite relate

I still wake
from lucid nightmares
over you
the one I hate

I don't need
long conversations
dealing with
your great dispair

I still wish
you pain and sorrow
held in
death's discerning stare.
________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#060">Altar of Shame</a>

Night
swallows me whole
spectres dance
in my minds sad places

coaxing,
tempted promises,
my sagging eyes
open to the darkness

glimpsing
past lives
reluctant video
regret filled re-runs

mistakes,
magnified guilt
I swirl above my
altar of shame

Silent...
for most...
this world of
my waking dreams
_____________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#061">Run on Sentience</a>

Cities have become toxic wastelands filled with terminally rabid refugees disemboweled diasporas unknowingly searching for their soul lost on the road to "El Dorado" mobile ghosts in Mercedes cruise past unnoticed non-entities, gutter derilicts who blend in with the ambience created by discarded paper cups dialing their cell phones within their steel cocoons checking e-mail for the latest stock quotes while enjoying their heated leather seats pleas for recognition are left on phantom voice mails which are usually ignored then erased by post-pubescent proletarian poltergeist metabolic marvels, hummingbirds disguised as humans, their emptiness feed constantly on a diet of bigger better faster possessions starving on the technological equivalent of junk food "People to see places to be" they chant in unison chasing their tails, obese bull dogs remembering when they could actually catch them no real friends only "useful aquaintances" who find the word friend easier to spell every day the ravening nomadic hordes of suburbanites and business barbarians cover the roads like air conditioned locust smoking their low tar cigarettes drinking 3 dollar cups of gourmet coffee listening to Howard Stern secretly hoping for death's release from their tedium.
_____________________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#062">"Uncertain Seas"</a>

I'm cruelly swept
through uncertain seas
abrasions are left
on my bended knees

wounds deepen
my conscience
to an inner strength

Waves open
now showing
a path of great length

Gateways appear
mysteriously
dragging me out of
my obscurity

A chalice
is placed
beside my cold tomb

lights ardor
adornes a
new roses bright bloom
_________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#063">"FLAG"</a>

Pondering values
my parents taught me
in the home of the brave
the land of the free

Loyalty, honor,
true fidelity
are stirred with corruption,
and sad irony

My Dad flew the flag
so proudly it waved
for God and his country
the blood that he gave.

Jefferson, Lincoln,
one freedom for all
declaring ideas
not found in the mall

Neighbors are strangers.
Our schools have gone wrong
Prozac presciptions
to greed's siren song

Corporate lobbies,
political schills,
right wing ammunition
attached to tax bills

Plundering freedom
disguised by their art
Worldwide economy's
just a big fart

The smell is so sweet...
convinced by their lies
our industries moving
beneath Chinese skys.

The jobs that were lost
stock markets great strides
elite confiscation
eroding our pride

The red, white and blue
are more than just hues
they remind us of rights
for all,... not the few.

But gradually,
the blind man will see
no longer content in
his vague apathy.

He'll recall the flag
remember his creed
Liberty flowers from
one cast off seed.
__________________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#064">Reconsidered</a>

the early light of morning
rides softly to my room
while inside myself
nights shadows sit,
resistant in their gloom.

I yawn,... and raise myself from sleep
then look back towards the bed.
Memories when I'd see you there
still linger in my head.

Has it really been all those years
You've wished you weren't my wife?
Is it true that you've often hoped
to have a different life?

Is it true all we've said we believe
is really just more lies?
Have all my dreams for both of us
been seen thru rose glass eyes?

I've pondered all the poison
you've thrown me in the past
I've wondered if it's possible
to make our marriage last.

Quite frankly,...I just don't know
the wounds feel deep to me.
Without loves balm from both of us
the futures hard to see.

Sometimes the grass seems greener
when adversaties arise.
Most often we realize to late
new problems in disguise

The worlds a cold and lonely place
when you've given up on love.
Alone standing on a mountaintop,
you pray for one quick shove.

But, no one comes to help you,
as you stand against the wind.
The snow piles deeper at your feet
you realize you have sinned.

I've seen hard people laugh with strangers
about love's losses and mistakes.
Inside themselves, they know they've lost
what true committment takes.

So as for me,
I pledge to swim on against lifes flow
to reach the peaceful waters
where again my love can grow.
_______________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#065">Quiet Loves Promise</a>

I'll love you
in the quiet ways
that stand the tests of time

I'll love you
Like green mountains
which together we should climb

I'll love you
deep and slowly
like the ancient rivers flow

I'll love you
like the warm sunshine
where sturdy Oak trees grow

I'll love you
like a cool spring rain
which washes and revives

I'll love you
like the first white snow
makes us glad to be alive

I'll love you
like the moon and stars
which reach to heavens gate

I'll love you
even when your heart
my love, it does forsake

I'll love you
in the quiet ways
it's all I have to give

And when I pass
beyond the veil,
my love for you will live.
______________________

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

[bags123]

Part three

<a name="#066">No haiku</a>

I don't like Haiku
They remind me of winter
absurd icicles.
-------------------------
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#067">Candy Wrappers</a>

Is thy pathway always littered
by candy wrappers of
regret?

Has thy mouth often been fitted
with peanut butter on
baguette?

Is the distance to thy kitchen
exercise enough for
thee?

Does thy tongue become all frothy
watching food shows on
TV?

Is thy greatest satisfaction;
When the pizza's crust is
thin?

Have thy feet become a stranger
seldom seen below thy
shins?

Well then my friend, it's time for thee
to get up off thine
ass.

You're stinking up my living room
with your putrid, noxious
gas.
______________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#068">striving</a>

Ambient animosities
slither and swim
emotional eels
thriving in stagnant waters

Compromised conclusions
keep the peace
silhouetted solitudes
thriving in stagnant waters

Terminal timidity
conscience lost
resigned resignation
thriving in stagnant waters

Pompus podiums
marionettes
zenophobic zebras
thriving in stagnant waters

Radioed redundancy
Rush Limbaugh
constipated conservatives
thriving in stagnant waters

Greater good
gasping for air
muscular movements
striving in stagnant waters
_________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#069">A Shadow of the First Dawn</a>


The sun casts
shadows of the
first dawn
upon the timberline

Scented balsams
stretch their bows.
Saluting.......
it's lifegiving breath

Snow glistens.....
Diamond facets
melting into
natures prizm.

Water escapes
frozen capture
Running away from
its prison

Cloudless skies
of the bluest azure
Harness......
winter's winds

And I........
am happy
just to be
alive.
___________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#070">"Ode to Julian (The apostate)"</a>

It's now twilight in the empire.
Discontents wash every shore.
The mighty deeds of Ceasars,
grace the peoples lips no more.

No heros march,in grand parades
Like heros from the past.
No cheering crowds shout praises
with the trumpets welcome blast.

Our weary legions choke on blood,
from desparate civil wars.
Ruthless generals use their armies,
like they use convenient whores.

The Gods seem disconnected
from the pain and suffering here.
Perhaps, it's just contempt they feel
when courage turns to fear.

I've seen our mother "Victory"
fold her wings and softly cry.
She knows Rome's golden glory
has grown old and soon must die.

But I remember one last struggle
with the nights encrouching hand.
when Julian assumed the throne
to take a final stand.

Educated in the virtues
of what freedom ought to be
He swore to champion justice,
and respect our dignity.

Our banners which had gathered dust
discarded on the floor.
Flew once again in triumph
on the wind that made them soar.

He battled to his credit
in the field and council chair
demanded free expression
to the bishops great despair.

For one truly pristine moment
it seemed honor was restored
Meanwhile...priests hatched evil schemes
behind the church's door.

No one can ever ascertain
the truth which history hides.
But, in conquest of the Persians,
a spear pierced Julian's side.

Some say the blade was Roman
thrust in by assassins hands
Some say that Christ himself had smote him
in that foriegn land.

What I believe is no concern,
all legends fade and change
When new power tells the story
its always rearranged.

I know the sun has set with Julian.
I see the road to darkness paved.
Apollo sits beside him
in his lonely, unmarked grave.
_____________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#071">Danu's Children</a>

On the ancient emerald isle's sod
beneath the barrow mounds
Danu's faery children wait
as eons make their rounds

These faery folk, as some have said,
love contemplations long
a saga lasts one thousand years
they're language is a song

From among'st the four fair corners
which square this magic land
we mere mortals made our offerings
where sacred oak trees stand

So its been for generations
traditions never ceased
we offered golden promises
they gave us health and peace

Then one dark day, a man appeared
"Padraic" his given name
proclaiming God lived in the sky
and we should be ashamed

"You give gifts to fallen angels"
"draw milk from Satan's cows"
"Your crops are culled from demons fields"
"Repent...and do it now!"

"False idols must be broken down"
"the Druids forced to pay"
"great churchs built with earth and stone"
"old ways...be cast away!"

"In Christs mercy he has found you"
"upon this pagan isle"
"Rejoice down on your bended knee"
"to earn our fathers smile"

Now many follow Padraic's way
a saint you should'nt cross
while Danu's children sing and dance
beneath the rock and moss.

Time flows for them eternally
they don't share human haste
when we have gasped our last cold breath
again the sun they'll taste.
___________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#072">Cuchullin's Hounds</a>

LONG PAST
THAT GALLANT EASTER DAY
TWAS SUNDAY MORN
THE 5TH OF MAY
BLACK AND TANS
HAD BURNED OUR HOME
THEN LEFT
MY FATHER DYEING

MY MOTHER STOOD
TOO PROUD TO CRY
WITH ONE LAST KISS
SHE SAID GOODBYE
THEN GATHERED ME
BEYOND THE FLAMES
TO TELL OF ERIN'S
HEROS

FROM FINN McCOOL'S
OWN FENIAN BAND
TILL NOW AS ENGLAND
RULES OUR LAND
THERE'S ALWAYS BEEN
A BROTHERHOOD
TO DEFEND
OUR IRISH NATION

DEFIANT LADS
WHO ARN'T AFRAID
FOR FREEDOMS CAUSE
THEIR OATHS ARE MADE
BY BLOOD AND BONES
EARTH AND SKY
THEY'LL CLEAR
THE MURKY WATERS

YOUR FATHER
WAS A CHOSEN ONE
A LEADER OF
CUCHULLIN'S SONS
BRAVE AND FIERCE
HIS HOUNDS DID FIGHT
ALL AGAINST
THE TYRANTS SOLDIERS

JUST NOW MY LOVE
A LAST COLD FACT
THE DEVIL WEARS
A UNION JACK
WE SUFFER
ON OUR BENDED KNEES
ASKING WHERE IS
GOD'S DEFENDING

MAY SAINT MICHAEL
TEACH YOU HOW TO STAND
PLACE HIS BRIGHT SWORD
IN GROWING HANDS
TO RID THESE DEMONS
FROM OUR LAND
AVENGE YOUR
FATHER'S MEMORY

I GREW UP QUICK
THEN WENT AWAY
IN BELFAST JOINED
THE I.R.A.
I MARRIED AND WE
HAD A SON
JUST BEFORE
THE BULLET HIT ME

SO...THIS IS WHY
THE BELLS HAVE RUNG....
THE BATTLES FOUGHT...
BUT NEVER WON
FROM WAY UP HERE
I SCAN THE CROWD.........
CUCHULLIN'S HOUNDS
ARE DANCING
_______________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#073">He Crys</a>

Ambition has no glory
its promises too few
pursuing gold
for all our days
regardless of whats true

Eventually,
its taste grows stale
crumbling like old bread
isolated with our lucre,
regret inside our heads

Pride deserves no power
boasting, callous, and unclean
corrupts our mind and spirit
till it makes them both obscene

In time the fall from grace
will collapse our golden thrones
unrepentent in our arrogance
our hearts turned into stone

The God of all our fathers
sees the jealousy and lies,
sees the misery and cruelty,
we created,... and he crys.
_________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#074">Secret Passages</a>

I've discovered secret passages
running deep within my
heart

They end in dark secluded rooms
hung with rusty silent
parts

Perhaps these things were useful once
in the days of long gone
by

Maybe they could all be restored
If I would committ to
try

They're tarnished with ten thousand tears
bled from eyes burning with
hate

They've been arranged methodically
served on disappointment's
plate

But now... they seem like so much junk
useless clutter smothers
me

A heart cleaning seems in order
if my souls to be set
free
_____________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#075">Lord of These Things</a>

When I show myself to you
I'm only noticed by the few
Most are blinded by the conflicts
raging deep inside their souls

Halleluia, Blessed Be
I am the one divinity
Not some rainbow draped personna
eating dogma's lonley bone

I'm so saddend by confusions
These divisions are illusions
I have so many holy names
that I will answer to.

Halleluia, Blessed Be
I am the one divinity
Not one of mans perturbed creations
from the inquisitions mind

When I show myself to you
I'm only noticed by the few
You're to busy spouting theories
about what I'm supposed to be

I'm imbued with love's compassion
but it seems thats out of fashion
You're much more content to argue
about you're own apostasy.
_________________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#076">Crackers and Dip</a>

A worn out old poet
curls a cynical lip
He recalls when his verses
were not all the same schtick

Ensconced within silence
while the alcohol drips
Words refuse to march forward
from his minds empty crypt

Daydreaming at midnight
(a devout lunatic)
He spends time with his demons
just to copy their quips

Lamp's dim luminations
light frustrations dark pit
His pen falls to the table
out of reach it has slipped

A dull drunken stupor
pulls him into its grip
As he ponders extinction
eating crackers and dip
________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#077">It Ended on a Monday</a>

It ended on a Monday
not sure of the month
or the season

All I remember was
the pervading fog
in my eyes

From the first moment
I knew that something
was different

I followed my routines,
finding solace within
my habits

Everything seemed normal,
until I returned
from work

Eventually, that evening,
as I pulled into
the driveway.

It finally occured
to me what
had changed

No little ones
running from
the bushes

Cherubic faces
on miniature legs
Expressing love unfeigned

Daddy's home!
Hugs and kisses
all around

My children had grown,
and I had been to busy
to notice.
________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#078">Expresso</a>

When I awaken
from my slumber
coughing from
my last
cigarette

I go downstairs to
make some coffee
again I start
the days
vignette

Questions,...
routine queries,
all assault
my twilit
head

I wonder
if expresso
will help God
to raise
the dead?
_____________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#079">Eternity is Vacant</a>

eternity is vacant
threadbare somnambulists
peruse the gilded icons
missing the hidden clues
cast by the blind

eternity is vacant
pearly gates welded shut
to all but the unstained
waiting in infinity's breadline
with a crust of faith

eternity is vacant
earthly temples send prayers
and greeting cards
to the one true God
in different zip codes

eternity is vacant
marvelous manicured mansions
with holiday banquets
served on the wings of seraphim,
but nobody is interested
_______________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#080">Genisis?</a>

In the beginning,
God created man,
male and female,
in his own image.

Does that it explain it?
Are we the product
of an insane deity's
mad experiment?

Can all of human
cruelty,greed,hate,
be traced back
to our original blueprint?

Considering history's
bloody schematic,
are we capable
of something more?

Or does destiny spell
our own demise.
Repeating binary equations
ending in zero?
_____________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#081">"Seasons"</a>

As winter fast approches
Shades of summer disappear
When the silent snow encrouches
sunlight rudley hides in fear

To feel its brazen icy breath
where once it felt so warm
Testifies, when life is sweet
expect the bitter storms


As children it is hard to see
beyond the temperate breeze
which baths us in its sweet embrace
and makes us live at ease


If youth could last eternally
days filled with fun and song
would forever seem a lifetime?
or never quite so long?

I remember in my golden dawn
the mysterys that evolved
The conquered kingdoms in the sand
new riddles that were solved


Reflecting back, I'm not quite sure
when summer lost its glow
Perhaps it's when I questioned...
what a childs born to know


Now in the coldest of my seasons
there's a darkness in my soul
The world's become so different...
Facist time is in control.
____________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#082">"NO SMARTER"</a>

I always believed
when I reached Middle age..
wisdom would follow.

But I'm sorry to say
I'm no smarter today,
and probably won't be tommorrow.

I've seen many things
not all of them good
in this life that I'm living.

But questions and lies,
rain clouds from darkened skies,
betray all the hope that I'm giving.

As time passes by,
and my hair turns to grey,
truth should be certain.

Instead it would seem,
it resides in my dreams
behind an invisible curtain.

I've asked in my prayers
for help from above
are the Gods really listening?

How ironic to say,
in a sad kind of way.
the answers are totally missing.

I always believed
when I reached middle age
wisdom would follow

But I'm sorry to say,
I'm no smarter today,
and probably won't be tommorrow.
___________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#083">"Rice Burner"</a>

Harleys are for goobers
who like to spend their dough
antiquated leaking hulks
a dilemma just for show

If you ask any biker
who's really worth his salt
He'll make no lame excuses
for the "Kawi" that he bought


"Thats a nice rice burner"
say all the Harley louts
condescending, snickerings
to mask their own self doubt

So listen Mr. Harley,
you live in your wet dream
the earth is round, but you're still square
deluded , screwed, and reemed

Twenty grand for garbage
which bears the Harley seal
imaginary manhood
metallic sex appeal

Next time your Harley fails you
smoke and oils all you'll see
I'll wave as I ride past you
rice burns real clean for me.


Quote:[ Kawasaki rules the streets, Harleys ride to old swap meets]
__________________________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#084">"While the Sun Waits"</a>

Oh tedious night!
Silently lurking
in some forgotten lair
Black serpent eyes
staring at the world
Waiting.....
anticipating your time

Light slowly recedes,
dismissing itself
like an illusion
inch by inch you crawl
into my room...
a subtle seduction,
enveloping me,
in your dark embrace

Quietly sleep descends
amidst your tightening coils
my head grows heavy,
and I dream with you,
while the sun waits
_________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#085">"Farm Dream"</a>

I dreamed I was a farmer
Plowing rich and fertile fields.
I plant the seeds
which bring new life
and Autumn's harvest yeilds

She beckons me each springtime
with the cool and gentle rains
she sings her ancient songs to me
in silent sweet refrains

Her scent intoxicates my mind
like some delicious food
she anxsciously awaits my love
so she can be renewed

Reverently... I touch the earth
whisper all the secret names
Blood runs hot inside my head
and deep inside my veins

The soil's ripe and warm today,
it feels moist in my hand
I enter her ...
she responds...
more eagerly than planned

As young lovers
we embrace the day
to dance the "Sun Kings" tune
Re-vitalized by energy
which chase the winters gloom.

When evening comes
and shadows fall
you release me from my toils
Anoint my face in twilights grace
awash in salty oils.

I walk to where my women waits...
she leads me to our bed
Again I'll work in fertile fields
before sleep fills
my head
________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#086">"Status Quo"</a>

Once I had
a different thought.
most people seemed to hate it.
Their fear was heard in hollow words
which only could berate it.

I pondered it the whole day through,
at night I tossed and turned.
But, it wouldn't go away just yet
all attempts I made it spurned.

Whence come these thoughts so troublesome?
I know what's right and true.
My minds been made up years ago ,
there's better things to do.

No sense to re-consider things
which seem to work out fine.
All science and philosophy
is just a waste of time.

I'm happy with the Status Quo,
Don't need new problems here
Feed me my milk and pablum please
no meat today I fear.

Security reigns inside my brain
My answers all in line.
So don't disturb them lest they break
with questions that aren't mine

Now rarely when I have a thought,
I know that shouldn't be,
I knell and quickly say a prayer
for GOD to pardon me.

I'm given all I need to know
in one black leather book.
the ability we have to think
is SATAN'S fishing hook.

Protect me from my evil self,
and doubts that may arise
What I now know, I will accept
the rest I will despise.
_________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#087">"Freedoms Child"</a>

I have a son
a good caring child
spontaneous...
full of lifes radient energy
he often warms me
in his glow
Sometimes... I scold him
for his inate
"flexibility".....
"Organize yourself, I tell him,
Learn your responsibilities"
he apoligizes,
hugs me,
says he'll try harder,...but
he and I both know
that for now
his only purpose
is to be
freedoms child
and that's
the way it should be.
_______________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#088">howl in cyberspace</a>

Hi guys,

My son who had been battling kidney disease since last April past away suddenly on Friday 3/29.
Fortunatly, we had many conversations about the afterlife etc. I believe he was prepared for this as one possibility of his condition. We had just completed the final tests so that I could be the donar the previous Wednesday and were planning on contacting the surgeon after Easter to set the date. It's ironic sometimes the hand life deals all of us. I loved my son dearly, and am thankful I had the opportunity to many times tell him how much I loved him and how proud I was of him for his attitude and strength through this difficult time. He wasn't particularly religious, but I know he's in a better place, free from the afflictions which bound him in this life. I'm not doing this for pity! Just to remind everyone, young and old how short a time we all have in this world to communicate with those we hold dear. If you're like me, you sub-consciously feel there's all the time in the world to make things right. There's not. So this is my Howl both to the unfairness and beauty of life. May we see it for what it is,... and cherish the moments. Love to all.
bags123
________________________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#089">"Especially in These Times"</a>

With each breath I take,
there is less air to breathe
Oxygen isn't infinite,
especially in these times

With each new song I hear,
there is less music to sing
Harmony is lacking,
especially in these times

With each place I go,
there is less diversity
Definition disappearing,
especially in these times

With each person I know,
there is less feeling
meaning is forgotten,
especially in these times

With each battle fought,
there are more wounds
Why do I bother,
especially in these times
________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

[bags123]

Part Four
_________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#090">!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!</a>

If I read
another poem
dispensing
adolescent
whining tripe
I’m afraid
I’ll lose
my self control
and proceed to post
my gripe
I’m really
just a kind
old fart
But this has gotten
out of hand!
All this
gnashing
of these teenage teeth
Words milked
by swollen glands
If you
really want
a chat room
There’s a million
on the web
So if you insist
on spewing
Please try
one of those
instead.
______________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#091">Love Can't be Written</a>

Words are too few
to express my love
for you

I've invaded
worlds of poets
in my attempts to
make you feel
my love.

I've conquered
introspection
to translate the marks
you've etched on
my soul.

I've studied
Shakespear's sonnets
hoping to find clues
clinging to the
pages.

Now I know
Words are too few,
Love can't be written
________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#092">Every Sunday</a>

Every Sunday
she enters
15 minutes early
pain braced,
scaffolded,
on her metal
walker

I hear her
before seeing
Clump,...drag...
Clump,...drag...
the sound of
aged faith,
persistance

15 years ago,
her husband died
Before that,
her son.
In some
vain glorious war,
somewhere.

She's alone now
with only
her Rosary
to hold.
Almighty God
to talk
with
____________________
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<a name="#093">The Red Wagon</a>

Yes,... oh yes,
I remember
the red wagon.
Three little boys
piled in screaming
with glee

Faster Daddy!
Faster, Faster!
It did go fast
didn't it?
Wheels squeaking
all the way.

When I visualize
your faces,
smiling sunshine
I sometimes wish
that wagon had'nt gone
quite so fast.
_______________________
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<a name="#094">Moon and Stars</a>

As a child
there was a night
I ventured out alone......
to lay in the tall grass
of a nearby field.

I had decided
quite impulsively........
to test my courage
against the phantoms and mysteries
which inhabit every childs mind.

Laying there,
the darkness seemed impenetrable
crickets scatched their ancient songs
I swatted at mosquitoes, hungry for my blood
Around me the grasses moved in random waves
dancing in the nightime breeze

Alone.....
I listened with a fierce acuteness
for the first sounds
of my imaginations monsters

Adrenaline pumped
thru my body
as I forced myself
to stillness.

Any moment now, I was sure.....
some unseen nightmare
would carry me away
to uncertain doom.
yet, I stayed to battle my demons.

Just then.....
at the moment of my greatest despair,
the clouds parted, and I saw,
perhaps for the first time,
the new moon cradling the stars

My fear ebbed away
like the tide of a great ocean
I was left with an unspeakable understanding,
to ponder thoughts much larger
than my own human fraility

Not so long ago
there was another night
I ventured out with you
quite impulsively

To again test my courage
against the phantoms and mysteries
that inhabit the mind
when love's been betrayed

The darkness seemed impenetrable,
cynics sang their ancient songs,
I swatted at emotions like mosquitos
hungry for my blood

I listened to you
with a fiece acutness
waiting......
for the first sign of my imaginations
monsters

Then.....
you smiled
and in that one gesture...,
I remembered the moon and stars
_________________________________
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<a name="#095">A Poet's Curse</a>

Colors,... are seen differently
through my eyes.
I've always known it.
Spoken words,..pale in thier
attempts to communicate incandescent brilliance
failing dismally to describe
what I percieve.
My Oceans are unfathomable
Vaster than the shallow seas of most imaginations.
Their waves break over me
stirring the sands of my consciousness
with deep secrets
The GOD I was taught
as a child,
has grown too small,
a compact car,
full of limitations, few options.
He ignores infinite mystery
for economies sake
They say that "Reality, is merely a function
of individual perception"
who knows what hand or taloned claw
has draped my senses
with this peculiar awareness
Be it a blessing or a curse,
I'm thankful.
______________________
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<a name="#096">When Swans Fly</a>

When I awaken
from my slumber
coughing from
my last
cigarette

I go downstairs
to make the coffee
start again
my days
vignette

Mumble to the wife
and kids
How did you
sleep last
night?

Did your dreams turn
into pallid swans
that fly
with morning
light?

Often have I wished
to stay beside
those gentle
snowy
birds.

Whose feet caress
reflecting pools
without
saying a
word.

Then, I burn myself
from rising sun
the day
decides
my fate.

Cold showers rain
upon my skin
teeth brushed
or I'll be
late.
_______________
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<a name="#097">Moody in Morenci</a>

Moody of Morenci
went to feed
her goats
one day.

She failed to tell
her 15 kids
to rake up all
the hay.

When she got there
the smell was bad
and then she had
a start.

The goats had eaten
their own s- -t!
and then began
to fart.

If you've
ever passed
a goat farm near
Morenci, AR

Don't flick
your bic
until you're safe
and travelled very far.
__________________
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<a name="#098">While the Sun Waits</a>

Oh tedious night!
Silently lurking
in some forgotten lair
Black serpent eyes
staring at the world
Waiting.....
anticipating your time

Light slowly recedes,
dismissing itself
like an illusion
inch by inch you crawl
into my room...
a subtle seduction,
enveloping me,
in your dark embrace

Quietly sleep descends
amidst your tightening coils
my head grows heavy,
and I dream with you,
while the sun waits
__________________
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<a name="#099">"Find us Lost"</a>

Once again the gray man walks
thru chill and wintry skies.
The earth sleeps on in shrouds of white
which rest her emerald eyes.

The stillness breeds a thoughtfulness
more hurried seasons lack
I find forgotten memories
long lost in hidden cracks

I see myself a younger man
rebellious in his youth.
Crashing through the solid doors
obstructing me from truth.

Quite early it occurred to me
that I would never be
a swollen mask of self contempt
who sips his bitter tea.

But time oft plays an evil game
with hearts so free and pure
I shunned the "quest", for silver coin
which made life seem secure

I grew complacent with myself,
my soul I hardly missed.
Until one day I heard within
a subtle, serpents hisssss...

I thought "My God" what's happened!!
and beheld my blasphemy.
I clearly saw that I'd become,
what I hoped I'd never be.

When I ponder those years lost to me,
I see just what I've learned.
Existence is a test for us,
the answers must be earned.

I travel quiet paths again.
Realizing more the cost
Following the others,
will simply find us lost.
________________________
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<a name="#100">Farm Dream</a>

I dreamed I was a farmer
Plowing rich and fertile fields.
I plant the seeds which bring new life
with Autumn's harvest yields

She beckons me each springtime
with the cool and gentle rains
she sings her ancient songs to me
in silent sweet refrains

Her scent intoxicates my mind
like some delicious food
she anxsciously awaits my love
so she can be renewed

Reverently... I touch the earth
whisper all the secret names
Blood runs hot inside my head
and deep inside my veins

The soil's ripe and warm today,
it feels moist in my hand
I enter her ...she responds...
more eagerly than planned


As young lovers we embrace the day
to dance the "Sun Kings" tune
Re-vitalized by energy
which chase the winters gloom.

When evening comes,nights shadows fall
you release me from my toils
Anoint my face in twilights grace
awash in salty oils.

I walk to where my women waits...
she leads me to our bed
Again I'll work in fertile fields
before sleep fills my head
_________________________
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<a name="#101">The Devil Lives in Memphis</a>

The devil lives in Memphis
Summers up in Chicago
The devil lives in Memphis
Summers up in Chicago
He's the king of all the bluesmen
when playin' on the piano

He can tempt you with his music
Tempt you with his charmin' smile
He's so smooth,dark and handsome
impresses with his wit and style
But broken promises and sadness
will come in just a little while

One night I met him down near Jackson
playin' in some local bar
He said "Boy I like your action"
"I gaurantee you could go far"
"First you leave your little family
then come to Memphis..,be a star"

CHORUS BREAK

So I loaded up for Memphis
Left my baby back in Tupelo
I loaded up for Memphis
Left my baby back in Tupelo
She tried so hard to warn me
I told her I just had to go

She said:
"The devils up in Memphis
Summers up in Chicago
The devils up in Memphis
Summers up in Chicago
At night he'll sit beside you
as you're playin' on your piano

END CHORUS BREAK

I caught the bus to Memphis
with 20 dollars and some cheap red wine
I caught the bus to Memphis
with 20 dollars and some cheap red wine
when I pulled into the station
I didn't know the day or time

Well...he met me down on Beale Street
said "Boy you just follow me"
"I got some friends that want to meet you,
Jack Daniels and old Jimmy B"
They can help you thru the hard times
when old memories bring new misery".

Yes... the devil likes his whiskey
he likes to dress his women fine
The devil likes his whiskey
he likes to dress his women fine
Sometimes he spend his money.
most times he likes to spend all mine

CHORUS BREAK

I'm gone up to Memphis
Left my baby back in Tupelo
I'm gone up to Memphis
Left my baby back in Tupelo
She tried so hard to warn me
I told her I just had to go

She said:
"The devil lives in Memphis
Summers up in Chicago
The devil lives in Memphis
summers up in Chicago
At night he'll crawl down deep inside you
when you're playin' on your piano

END CHORUS BREAK

SHORT MUSICAL BREAK

Now I play in all the bar rooms
of the cities and the smaller towns
all I've gots my reputation
some say I'm the best around
I often sit and wonder's what I've lost
worth what I have found

It's now 20 long years later
People will you look at me
I've money, fame, and women
got my blue chip security
but when I look into the mirror
the devils look'n back at me

FINAL CHORUS

I'm living up in Memphis
My summers up in Chicago
I'm living up in Memphis
My summers up in Chicago
I'll be the king of all the bluesmen
till I'm buried down in Tupelo.
_________________________
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<a name="#102">Distracted</a>

I wish I knew the answers
instead, I find more comfort
distracting myself
from the questions.
Mourning your death
is emotionally
draining

I busy myself with work, family, friends
Trying my best to appear interested
I write, paint the porch
ride my bike
have a few beers
sleep

Few realize
part of me is forever missing,
the part I gave to you.
You deserved it
Now...you're gone, while I remain
distracted
_________________
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<a name="#103">7th @ 26th NYC</a>

As I sit
in the solitude
of a cafe window
sipping my coffee
I ponder
the ebb and flow
of humanity
crossing my view
Stress,anguish,desperation,
painted
on each face
to varying degrees
like cheap cosmetics
People
contaminated by
the scars
of this
leprous city
30 minutes pass....
So far
no sign of
contentment,satisfaction,enlightenment
Only the constant
rapid movement
Rats
in a concrete maze
searching aimlessly
for the
imaginary cheese.
______________________
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<a name="#104">After</a>

After the hoopla,
the party
the songs
After the handshakes
the backslaps
the throngs
After the familiy
the cousins
the aunts
After the drunks
with their
fantastic rants
After the priest
leaves his
final remarks
After the fire
has dwindled
to sparks
After the battles
we fought
on our own
After this day
we're never
alone
____________
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<a name="#105">Soft Touch of Blue</a>

It seems I've always
Known your name
a picture painted
without frame
a song remembered
in great haste
old memories
time can't erase
Colors blend
my thoughts of you
Bold strokes of red
Soft touch of blue
brushed on my canvas
over time
Your rainbow
fills my empty lines
Your picture changes
day by day
reflecting all
you do and say
Like formless clouds
will always be
content
to shift on endlessly
You are the wind
that can't be tamed
you play the satyr's
wild game
All flowing shades
and graceful moods
are savored
as delicious food
I’ll live beside you
breathe your breath
Your willing captive
Unto death
____________________
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<a name="#106">"Cinderella Drunk"</a>

Tonight I am eternal
"Heavens gift"
almost supernal
with verbosity and diction
far above
most mortal men

With malignant boring glory
I insist on telling stories
which you have heard
a thousand times
at least
since you were ten.

So if I must, or if you may
discourse
on what I have to say
Cinderella's slippers lost
just after
3 AM

With mornings celebration
I won't feel the same
elation
Tequila dreams don't linger
past the barroom's
closing call
____________________
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<a name="#107">"Deaths Dismal Features"</a>

I still fear death's dismal features
horned and taloned horrid creatures
who so blithely and compliant
make a man to
acquiesce

I just hope life's worth the dying
and that Jesus wasn't lying
about mansions up in heaven
golden gates to
welcome me.

I've been tempted by loose ladies
prefer not to live in Hades
but from time to time partaken
of an apple
from the tree

It's a question so perplexing
Why does God condemn the sexing
when some young thing has worked so hard
to share her skills
for free?

So friends... can you adjure for me
explain this unfair policy?
Why is paradise the carrott
but we never
eat the pie?

Please forgive this introspection
I still hope for resurrection
all these answers without questions
leave me crippled
anyway.
___________________________
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<a name="#108">Cheers</a>

Here's to the promise of redemptions song
Here's to the wait thats two thousand years long
Here's to the people who've died before now
Here's to the points falling off of the DOW
Here's to the dreams dreamed by all of the poor
Here's to the wealthy who feel insecure
Here's to the pleasure proceeded by pain
Here's to the wisdom that knows what we've gained
Here's to the fallacy behind all lies
Here's to the poet whose still asking why?
____________________________________
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<a name="#109">The Mystery of God</a>

**As I sit here this Monday and watch the snow fly,I'm reminded how much pleasure I've gotten from my interaction with all of you at Poetry Pages. You're all a greaat bunch of people, that I'm happy to have met and talked with. Here's wishing you all a Happy Yule,Hanachka(sp), Kwanza,
Christmas, Dwali, or whatever persuasion you prefer to celabrate during this time of year. Best Wishes to all!!!!

what bright light beckons me forward
through this serpentine blackness of
convoluted truth and distorted masks?

burning infinities fuel,
illuminating artifacts,
espousing ancient paths?

what ray of hope proceeds all others
descending expansive starry climbs
into the universal heart of mothers?

churning kind intentions,
disturbing malvolent spirits
creating brothers from others?

what force continues to exist within us
inspite of our contrary nature to explain
everything away in rationilistic terms?

the mystery of life
the mystery of love
the mystery of GOD
________________________
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<a name="#110">"Simple Truth"</a>

Will you walk with me
into that forgotten world?
All is possible there,
Dreams, undreamed for 10,000 years.

Leave behind
the false personna's
of this modern prison.
Bath yourself in the warm mud of the ancients.

Earth, Water, Air, and Fire combine
to speed you in your quest
They sing the songs of truth
long ago...lost among our kind

Reveal yourself in nakedness,
for we are nothing more.
Cleanse yourself of inhibition.
Permit the Goddess to embrace you fully.

As your senses tune to a new awareness,
ambiguity vanishes.
Your purpose
becomes the art of living

Realize the simplicity.
No secret mysteries,
No original sin,
Natures fecundity provides the answers

Study carefully, as you can.
The Cycles of our existence
change like the seasons.
Each, teaching us in its own way.

Finally, the sleeper
has awakened.
With this realization,
life renews

Good peace to you
fellow traveler.
Enjoy the world
of your making.
_____________________
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<a name="#111">Dragon Ships</a>

On dragon ships
men scan the skies
Perplexed, they ask
the reasons why
They sail so far
from friendly fjords
to find an
unknown future.

Their leader stands
from rough hewn oars
These waters never
seen before
But sagas tell of
gold and land
thats ripe now
for the taking

"Be strong Norsemen
and persevere
This voyage
fills your hearts with fear.
By dawn we'll land
on foreign soil
Keep weapons sharp
and ready".

With morning sun
a guard conveys
four distant ships
assault his gaze
A raven's crest
is flown on high
"Flee now... or we'll
be slaughtered".

A warlord grips
his heavy sword
The Bishop waits
as he kneels toward
the altar of
the one true God
requesting his
protection

He rises from
his age-ed knees
his men will fight
they've all agreed
out numbered by
the heathen hordes
faith goes before
the battle

Thor's army
disembarks its ships
A viking creed
escapes their lips
"Should I die
a valient death,
Valhalla bids
me enter".

Berserkers drink
their bitter herbs
Ferocity will not
be curbed
the first in battle
last to die
blood lust, has been
created

They march
unlimbered
too the fore
Scars mark this place
like those before
to kill the weak
then take what's left
Survival of
the fittest

The warlord sees
his own demise
Considers what
to compromise.
"I'll give you half
my gold and food,
the women yours
for taking".

The pagan cheif
who hears these pleas
laughs with distaste
and then decrees
That such a man
deserves to die
The world's best rid
of cowards.

Across the shallow
walls they came
Defenses fell
by weight of shame
The warlords head
adornes the prow
when dragon ships
sail homeward.
______________________
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<a name="#112">A Dissonate Requiem</a>

I whisper the words
to my dissonate requiem
under my breath.
Not feeling the need
to foam at the mouth,
or wave the flag.
I don't require others
to understand
my sad coronach.
So many died
an ignominious death
So many families
paralyzed by the loss
So many lives
changed forever
So many tradgedies
realized in those
few grievous moments
I can't celebrate
those brave heros
sifting through the ashes
Their faces smear
my nightmares
as together we whisper
a dissonate requiem
_______________________
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[bags123]

Part Five
_______________________________
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<a name="#113">Knowing Full Well</a>

Nothing can dispel
my happiness:
Not you,
nor your anger,
nor your sorrow,
nor your guilt,
nor your shame,
nor your lies.

Nothing can dispel
my freedom:
Not you,
nor your chains,
nor your misery,
nor your schemes,
nor your pain,
nor your questions,

Nothing can dispel
my peace:
Not you,
nor your contempt
nor your noise
nor your phone calls
nor your slander
nor your morals

I willfully ignore all your
attempts.......
Knowing full well, that I'm
quite capable of destroying
myself
____________________________________
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<a name="#114">Forbidden Forest </a>

There you stood
naked,... at the edge
of the forbidden forest
Only I could see you
Feel the insolance
of your sight.

You whispered.....
long distance promises
just for me to hear.
Only I could understand,
deciphering the meaning
of your secrets.

The temptation
scourged my conscience,
played havoc with my reason
Only I could taste
the bitter reality
of my obligations
____________________________________
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<a name="#115">Oedipus Wrecks </a>

"Tragedy"
A well worn word....
Once spoken in the hushed dialects
of the ancient Aegean.
Transported through time
Surviving history....
Infused by the mists
of oracular visions

Delphi is gone
Apollo's marbeled columns,
and hidden secrets,
turned to whispering dust
Its inner sanctums,
leaving us to wrestle
with our silly
conjectures


The Gods are silent
in Ephesus,
and Orpheus protects the
mysteries of the underworld
from our shallow
modern minds
"Tragedy"
A well worn word..........
__________________________________
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<a name="#117">The Beginning </a>

The scriptures tell us,
"All of Gods Creation
is an Eternal Round."
Much later...
Einstein proclaimed:
"Infinity is fixed,
but incomprehensible"
If we travel that vast
distance long enough,...
eventually, we return
to where we started.
I wonder where we are
on that journey?
How far ....
till we reach...
the beginning?
____________________________
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<a name="#118">The Eventuality of Nothing </a>

Buddha sits beneath the tree of knowledge
resolutely trying to comprehend
the eventuality of nothing.

The Demonic forces have been defeated
leaving him fatigued and resigned
to meditate disengagement.

Days follow nights,.. nights follow days
enlightenment seeming futile
without the proper adversary.

As a minute part of the "Universal Mind"
his lips part in a beatific smile
finally understanding this cosmic riddle.

Getting up,..leaving the shade of the banyan,
He disects a pomegranate piece by piece
Savoring the fleshy pulp.
__________________________________
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<a name="#119">The Helm </a>

I'm harshly swept
through uncertain seas.
Abrasions are left,
on crucified knees.

Wounds deepen resolve
to an inner strength.
Waves open now show
a path of great length.

Dim gateways appear,
mysteriously,
dragging me out of
my obscurity.

A chalice is placed
by some angel's hand.
Light's ardor expose
a rose on the land.

I taste the sweet wine.
My lips on the rim.
I smell the perfume,
and then I see him.

He beckons me come,....
"Repose, be at ease.
Your weariness rest,
from uncertainties".

"How heavy the ships
with sails parched and torn,
that drift on the seas
of lifes bitter storms"

"Your captains immersed
with dreams of the dead.
Your cargos of wealth
have all turned to lead"

"Your rudder's been sheared
by rocks from the reefs
Your hull has been breached,
the holes of your grief".

"By chance you have washed
into my bright realm.
We'll build a new ship.
I'll be your new helm".
______________________________
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<a name="#120"> Reviving Jimmy Swaggert </a>

CALL ME UP!
In your circus tense.
While the truth is passed
and the night is
spent

CALL ME UP!
Jesus pays the rent
Money from the poor
say it's heaven
sent

CALL ME UP!
"Brothers can't you see
That the gifts of God
are not yours for
free"

CALL ME UP!
"Sisters let love be
Save your souls right now!
give yourself to
me"

CALL ME UP!
Holy howls and hoots
Speaking in false tongues
bearing tasteless
fruit

CALL ME UP!
As you rail and root
a fat pig in heat
desparate for your
loot

CALL ME UP!
On my bat-ring ram
to decieve your hearts
with my soap box
scams

CALL ME UP!
Sacrificial lambs
whom I've lead astray
now my blood be
damned.
_________________________
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<a name="#122"> Over and Over </a>

Over and over
our history competes
with absurd aberrations
we're doomed to
repeat

Our freedoms give rise
to corrupted dark power
New hierarchies spawn
within apathies
valor

Old liberty papers
now lost in the fray
While some bureaucrats document
what we can't
say

Way up on the "Hill"
our new President speaks
Spouting death to all
terrorist,oiled, rich
sheiks

No matter the ruse
in this patriot game
By attacking them first
we must all share the
blame
________________________
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<a name="#123"> Let Death be the Cure </a>

The trouble with life is,
you're never quite sure.
Epithaph on my gravestone:
"Let Death be the Cure"

Confused by the prospect
of living un-pure.
Unbalenced by crutchs
which make me endure.

I grasp and I grope
my way through each day.
Avoiding calamatous
pits in my way.

Unsure, steady hands,
I search in the fog.
Catastrophes waiting.
A ravenous dog.

Its teeth are now bared.
A mouth broad and thin.
Solicitous monster,
with hates dismal grin.

I feint to the left.
He lunges quite straight.
His claws slash like rapiers
A bloodlust to sate.

Turning to corner
this predator beast.
I recite incantations
until his hearts ceased.

The trouble with life is,
you're never quite sure.
Ephithaph on my gravestone:
"Let Death be the Cure"
____________________________
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<a name="#124"> Leviathan Stirs </a>

Hidden
by the abyss
of unnumbered fathoms,
"Ancient of Days"
He sleeps within all human myth
Sequestered...,
by the dreams of God.

Eyes open...,
older than time,
deeper than the sea.
Searching...,
myriad thoughts occurring,
his consciousness
re-awakens

He remembers
creation, angelic war,
the fall from grace.
He recalls
Lucifier, "Son of the Morning",
blazing across
the firmament.

Before
his epochal sleep,
he struggled with
his purpose...
Now, all is clear...
"I am Leviathan,
I am destruction."
____________________________
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<a name="#126">Critics </a>

Note: This piece doesn't apply to anyone on this forum. But I had a rather nasty run in with an ego driven moderator on another poetry site recently. I can't understand it, I'm normally so mild mannered.

I think when I wryly
post puns on this sheet
The "Poetic Police" will
expect tongue in cheek

So now when I'm writing
my words on the page
I can't enter a poem like
a serious sage

Of histories foibles
the tome's ne'er complete
So I jot down the feelings
which I should delete.

The moderate savants
tell me to despair,
My verse is left wanting
insightful repair.

Ho Hum to the experts
of comma's and quotes.
Whose capital egos
attach to their notes.
_______________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#127">Weapons of Mass Distraction </a>

Freedoms such an
abstract thought
Reflecting that which
we've been taught

Some would say
that freedom rings
in just one place,
or just one thing

Others labor
all their lives
protecting notions
most despise

I see freedom
now defined
in text books written
by closed minds

On the tube
and in the news
they market their
accepted views

Should we care
to disagree,
we're labeled a
deformity

If a despot
reappears,
Then freedoms gone,
despite our tears.

Can it ever
happen here?
Our freedoms lost
because of fear?
________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#129">Cataclysmic Germ </a>

Irreverent!!
I strive to be
Restricting
thought's duplicities

Tradition's customs
overturned
Pandora's box
has just been burned

The Status Quo
must be unlearned
Remove this
cataclysmic germ.

Our Congress reads
from sanctum's writ.
Its rights and wrongs
are non-descript

Controlled by men
in black wing tips,
With bad toupees,
whose dentures slip.

Our Politic's
belabored quotes
still rally all
the sheep and goats

As eagles fly
above the fray
to search at dusk
for our new day.
_________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#130">Life's Vintage </a>

Pour your life
in crystal goblets.
Desires from the vine.
Inhale...
the scarlet odour
from your grapes
own vintage wine.

Each sip,
a distinct flavour
One is dry,
the next one sweet.
Good wine requires
a vintner's touch
to make it's taste complete

The "Grapes of Wrath"
are harvested
from rocky, arid soil.
The work is hard,
yeilds are small,
ofttimes the fruit
will spoil

On sunny slopes
of fertile loam
the "Grapes of Peace"
do grow
Embodying the precious gift
we pray God
will bestow

Most vineyards lie
somewhere between
the grapes of peace and wrath
Their clinging vines
wild hybrids,
roaming,
indecisive paths

But ...at last
our wine is bottled
beneath the cork and glass
May our taste
be well remembered
for its distinctive
class.
_____________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#131">Intoxicating Invitation </a>

Across the table,
conversation has dimmed
The idle chit chat
describing daily rituals
has ended.
I bask in the subtle
nuances of the inevitable
Staring into your silent intent.
Sipping the last few drops
of my expresso
Your talented tongue
licks laciviously,
at the last dollops of
eclair on your lips
I confess an ancient
fetish for creme
filled tarts
Your seductive smile
relaxes me, and implies
an intoxicating invitation
to the next course
____________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#132">Speed Freak </a>

My spirit's fuel
is gasoline!
Two wheels to spin
and burn
Speed addicted
like a junkie,
thru straight
and narrow turns

My conscience
rides in silhouette
Dark shadows
never last
Downshifting into
lower gears
removes me from
my past

On each
Godforsaken byway
I've ridden
in my life
Speed could distance
all my problems
Eliminate
their strife

Speed can
lubricate my questions
Obfuscate
the need
For a pause
in my reflection
of where a road
may lead

Too often
have I run
this race
My leather's frayed
and torn
This old engine
needs rebuilding
Both tires very worn

My demon's wait
so patiently,
across the
finish line
How did I arrive
so quickly?
I thought there was
still time.
_______________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

<a name="#134">"Big Daddy's Revelation to the Masses" </a>

OK guys, I've been sittin up here watching quietly
for at least the last couple thousand years
Like... I don't mean to be rude or nothin ,
but I gotta ask?
What the F--- are you doin?

No other place in the universe is as F--- up as
planet earth. I mean I give you guys this beautiful
blue planet with more than enough assets to be
shared by everyone, and you make it into
a G--D--- S--- Hole.

I was watching a car in Los Angeles the other
day while I was hanging with the family, you know?
At least I think it was Los Angeles. It's kind of hard
to see through all the F----ing Smog you've created.
Lets just say it was in California(as if thats any better)

Anyway, The dude driving the car had a bumper sticker.
It said "GODS COMING... AND IS HE EVER PISSED"
Right ON! I said to myself. I'm ready to kick butt!
Mary's always coming before my golden throne
and bitching, bitching, bitching.

Man,... you gotta do this, you gotta change that!
I was really gett'in into a cool groove that Gabriel
and his band were play'in for me, but NOOOO!
My head was completly destroyed by the "Old Ladies"
ranting and hollering.

You know I've learned something through the eons of time:
If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.
So whats a God to do? I'm telling you,
you got to clean your room up and keep it that way.
Share your toys with the other boys and girls.

Get back to basics. Dig it? I don't understand what happened.
The last time I checked in on you guys was 1967.
You seemed to be getting the hang of it back then.
Bam!! A few misley decades later, I take another look,
and the whole planets gone to hell in a hand basket.

I can't believe I had my homies (thats angels) fight against
Lucifer and his homies to control this turf.
If he had the balls to ask me to my face now,
I'd give the whole F---ing thing to him and say
good riddens to the lot of you.

What do you want from me anyway? I've sent my boy down
there to teach you, you got prophets, saints, Guru's and
Timothy Leary as guides through the ages. I even inspired
that Dude Karl Marx with his manifesto. But truth be known
I'm a little pissed that he didn't give me any credit.

So please people dig on the truth and get your heads together.
This is the last time I'm warning you to stop F---ing up.
Dig this: Peace-good, War-Bad,... full stomachs-good...
Hungry-Bad. Helping-Good..., Selfish proud vain sons a bitchs-
Bad. Now Fix it, and let Big Daddy get back into his tunes.
_______________________________________________
<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

[bags123]

Part Six
_________________________

<a name="#136">"Fridays at McGeary's Pub"</a>

The world reflects on Friday night
at McGeary's local pub
me boyo's sit with pints in hand
exchanging caustic rubs

While Tommy Flynn O'Malley reels
on his unrequited loves
Jim Connor wanders near the bar
in search of lonely doves

Clancy just can't understand it
Red Sox sink just like a sub
"Instead of bats, I think thy use
some crooked, black thorn clubs."

Reporting back, Slim Jimmy says,
"all the girls resemble pugs!"
"Except for one, with low cut blouse,
revealing sculpted jugs."

Her name he said, was Erin Coyle
and she doesn't live too far.
"Excuse me gents,I now must go."
"She's waiting in me car."

Well... Tommy's eyes just sparkled bright,
with distilled, dry, Irish wit.
"ERIN NO BRA!" He shouted loud.
"Jims always loved big tits!"

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#137">Animosity (among friends)</a>

Animosity fries my brain
lurid thoughts,
conscripted blame
You played your poison parlor games,
with shifting eyes,
a tongue that feigned.

Deposits from your frozen lips
icy drops,
antarctic fits
Our world got colder, darkly lit
Glacial stares which
sank all ships

The friendship which we once had known,
youths delight,
adventures honed
Forgotten now, since we have grown
At times old friends
must stand alone.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#138">Cities (take 2)</a>

I too often find conscious-ity
is filled with vague duplicity
colored by ethnicity,
streams of eccentricity,
imagined reciprocity,
voicing its pompous-ity
Perhaps...
I've lived to long
in cities.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#139">Jerusalem</a>

Silent prayers mix
pastel shades
across both Jew
and Arab graves
this evening

Days begin with
human bombs
while iron tanks
shout deaths alarm
this morning

Vengance swift for
lifes demise
the horrid truth
complete with lies
by noontime

Blood and flesh will
not deny
the anguish in
our children's eyes
at twilight

Holy city
Allah's own
from temple mount
to Kaaba stone
Jerusalem!

Proclaim Zion
Moses sons
our promised home
his will be done
Jerusalem!

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#141">Spiral Stairs</a>

I've journeyed to
the depths of reason
captured quandries
in their lairs

But I dismiss
my own loud footfalls
on descending
spiral stairs

Ancient spirits
haunt with mystery
unredeemed by
what's not said

Those silent lives
betwixt truth and lies
despite the books
I've read

Will we ever
truely understand?
Will we ever
truely see?

Or will the past
circle round at last
completing
destiny?

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#142">"Congenital Bores"</a>

I admire persistence and wit
for most it exists where
they sit

Those dull diatribes
produced by
their scribes

Constrain them
when they try
to shit

Congenital bores they abound
they speak without making
a sound

If you ask them how?
They'll take a short
bow.

Brains spilling
out over
the ground.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#143">Philistines</a>

The Philistines
assault my walls
mental midgets
held in thrall

A dullards wit
on verbal swords
seem weapons they
can ill afford

The missals fly
typed out in haste
communicate
with such distaste

While fork-ed tongues
belie the truth
their message lost
beneath my roof

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#144">Welcome Night</a>

Iridescent strains of light
Bequeath days end
And welcome night

The waters of my conscience roll
Against the dams
Of my control

Flooding fields where once did grow
The youthful dreams
I planned to sow

Unchartered storms from foreign seas
Arrived to bring
Complexities

And unknown depths of deep regret
A hallowed hall
So few suspect

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#145">Conversation at Artists Rock</a>

As a child
I played on forested domes
and rocky crags
oblivious to
panoramic vistas
stretching under my
sneakered feet

My senses
of course, were naive
native to this land
for generations
never suspecting
the whole world
wasn't a paradise

40 years ago
at this very spot
I spoke with my father
He's gone now
these many years
still our voices linger
at Artists Rock.

"Daddy...
why do they call this place
Artists Rock"?
"Well son...
I reckon it's cause
them artist fellas come up here
to get inspired".

"Daddy...
Why come way up here?
Can't they get that
where they live"?
"No son...
I guess it's hard to come by
in the city".

"Daddy...
they hike way up here
just to get perspired?
Shoot Daddy,
you could sell'em
some of yours
for a quarter".

"HA!!!...yes indeed, I could son,
worth every penny too.
Prob'ly do'em good
to smell some honest sweat!
No boy,... I'm talk'en
INSPIRE,
not perspire".

"You see son...
when a person removes hiself from nature
it kinda leaves him behind too.
Artists come way up here
hope'n to
remember how it
feels again".

"Don't make no sense to me
why anybody'd leave
I can't pretend to ponder
the where-with-all of it.
They just forgot
how to see through
the eyes of God".

"Daddy...
Can I see through the eyes of God"?
"Not yet son...
But I hope someday
when you're a man
they'll be wide open
for you".

So now I'm sitting here
40 years later
Remembering Dad
Simple man that he was
waiting for the
eyes of God
to open for me.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#146">Thoughts from a Bridge</a>

BELOW

From the bridge
I watch the river's
twilight waters flow
Sure destination
uncompromised
by the creeping
timid fog

ABOVE

Gas demon's
light casting shadows
on skeleton steel
Oblivion's steeds
rescuing their
precious minutes
homeward bound

BELOW

Velvet mud
pushed on silently
by omniscient tides
skirting ancient isle's
undaunted by
mans concrete
obstacles

ABOVE

Cruel cables
harnessing heaven
a comic attempt
imitating God
The river chortles
at our finite
impudence

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#147">Superfluous Solitude</a>

Miles north of N-Y-C
hidden by hills
unblemished creations
lay the mountains
of my heart

Superfluous solitude
life unburdened
of rules and schedules
spontaneous
renaissance

The world's ripe calamities
do not exist
amid the cool springs
in heaven's lathe
peace confides.

Loons trill in celebration
at each days end
welcome the gossamer moon
as an old friend
for supper

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#148">Friendly Enemies</a>

As the battle subsides
I walk among the faceless corpses
of my dreams.
They crowd the corners of my conscience,
grim reminders of the past.

One by One, I hurl them
into hates forgetful fire.
To keep myself sane,
to be rid of their sickening sweetness.

Once these flames of contempt
nearly consumed me
in their flickering ferocity
Now the fire is fed more slowley
and methodically.

For a moment, I stop
to scan the smoking pyres
for some sign of life.

Something beckons me to the rubble
where I continue my search.
To my surprise,
I find Hope and Goodness have survived
this "abomination of desolation"

They stare at me through the
delicate eyes of youth,
eager for direction.

I hold them tightly, and tend their wounds
as best I can.
Promising them sanctuary
from our selfishness.

In the end,
destiny is the only winner.
You and I must attempt to live
as friendly enemies.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#149">Passion's Passing</a>

Passions silent passing
never noticed till it's gone
red wine stained , forgotten hours,
memories lost
when I belonged.

While the tedium of conflict
like a snake bite to the brow
spreads its grotesque poison
throughout my life
somehow.

Unspoken words collect themselves
in walls of deep debris
abscounding all thats meaningful,
controlling what I
see.

Routine becomes my purpose,
banality, my cure.
Sleep prescribes the seditive
for what I must
endure.

Phantoms lie beyond my sight
in solid disarray
emasculate my energy
not caring
what they say

Sending Jackyls, in disguises
knawing bone and tearing flesh
for them no absolution
when the meat they smell
is fresh

The world is full of midnight
predation rules the streets
cachophony tears the morbid air
with jeers of
whores and cheats

And when in time, this insolance,
has eaten its full share
May eternal constipation
leave them writhing
in despair.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#150">A Beauteous Flower</a>

A beauteous flower
in darkness will bloom
It's scent fills my night's
secluded lit rooms
A feminine flavour
of moonlight and musk
will drip on my tongue
when days turn to dusk
Perchance you have savored
this piquant pink rose,
whose delicate taste,
my pleasure still knows
Her petals are perfect
The nectar divine
Sweet in the sunset
A star's cordial wine

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#152">Honeydoll</a>

Honeydoll
you fit the curves
your tight blue jeans
complete the scene

Honeydoll
those spandex legs
that welcome style
your "come on" smile

Honeydoll
that bleach dyed hair
with blackened roots
looks so damn cute

Honeydoll
those scarlett lips
embellished hue
wet dream come true

Honeydoll
your wanton lust
in emerald eyes
beseech the skies

Honeydoll
let's both be free
a little bit bad
is good by me

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#153">Not the bottom of your shoes</a>

Give me a piece of your soul,
not the bottom of your shoes,
the real deal!
Draw a line in the sand
What you hope and feel
What you dream and are.
Give it too me now,...
if it exists at all.
If you still know.

Give me a piece of your soul,
Write the words in blood.
So I can see you!
Hell,.. So you can see you!
Dislodge yourself from the perversity
of those inane facades.
21st century, bilious, bogus,bastardizing,
attempts to shepard us into nice, acceptable,
tidy, little corrals.

Give me a piece of your soul.
Feed it to me slowly,
so I can digest it quickly.
I'm running on empty into oblivion,
and I need sustenance for the journey.
Give it to me now,...
because death may be the end,
and all that lingers afterwards,
may be the questions.

Give me a piece of your soul,
not the bottom of your shoes.
The real deal!
Draw a line in the sand.
What you hope and feel.
What you dream and are.
Give it to me now,...
if it exists at all.
If you still know.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#155">P on US</a>

Pandering politicians
proliferate
purloined pinheads
proselytize

Pedantic poets
prophetise
para-military punks
pogromize

Pro-active perogatives
protection
pedestrian privacy
pessimistic

Pending problems
predisposition
pharmacys prescribe
prozac

Patriot propaganda
persists
persuasive public
polls

Philadelphia penned
"prostitution"
preambles pompous
platitudes

Pentagon police
Pakistan
platoons patrol
pashtoons

Populations prosperity
poorer
petroleums profits
proceeding

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#156">Hooligans</a>

We're the dispossesed of England,
inhospitable and mean
Like some vagrant Klu Klux Klansmen
Bigots,...masking the obscene

We're the rancor to "The Troubles"
In a land once fair and green
We're all hooligans by nature,
serving Britain's dowdy queen

We throw rocks at Irish children
and we've raped some Irish Mums
We segregate the better jobs,
calling Irish fathers "Bums"

We celebrate old victories
with parades through Catholic slums
Spouting unionist agendas
while the poor subsist on crumbs

We shout slogans at the needy
Call them "Fenian Bastard Scum"
We brave Royal Ulster Orangemen
piss our pants when vengeance comes

We can speak of peaceful treaties,
but our ink will always run
We prefer to control power,
watching misery for fun

We're a cruel and perverse problem,
and when alls been said and done
We won't give back what we've taken
Till you drive us out with guns

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
_________________

<a name="#157">Altar of Shame (take 2)</a>

Night
swallows me whole
Specters feast
On the tables of my
regret

Sleep
eludes my efforts
Hiding in the bitter ruins,
of past
decisions

Mistakes,
infest my waking dreams,
swirling above my
altars made of
shame

Silent,
under the blankets,
my sagging eyes
wait for the new
day.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

[bags123]

Part Seven
_______________

<a name="#158">Mind Storm</a>

Contradiction
draws its swords
Balenced,...
on immovable
exclamation points
Clashing,...
in the electro-chemical ether
of my brains
atmosphere

"Take a stand!"
"Wrong or right!"
"Good or Bad!"
"Black or white!"

Sensory inputs
can comfortably abide
both choices equally,
depending on
my need
Why then,...
must I choose
one,over
the other.

"Take a stand!"
"Wrong or right!"
"Good or Bad!"
"Black or white!"

Perhaps,....I'm just fooling myself,
with my own indecision.
Rules and boundries are important!!
Right????
Where would we be
with out rules
and boundries?
Hey!!......
Wait a minute.................................................

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#159">Above Adversity</a>

When spirit shifts
its templed fire
to proclaim an exodus
from flesh-like tombs
of mortal coil to
freedoms it has missed
far from wars that rage
in hates delight
throughout man's history
it swiftly flys
amidst clear skys
above adversity

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#160">"After"</a>

After the hoopla,
the party
the songs
After the handshakes
the backslaps
the throngs
After the familiy
the cousins
the aunts
After the drunks
with their
fantastic rants
After the priest
leaves his
final remarks
After the fire
has dwindled
to sparks
After the battles
we fought
on our own
After this day
we're never
alone

(For my wife the greatest gift life has given me. Just why remains a mystery)

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#161">The Selkie's Skin</a>

Beneath small drops of fragrant oil,
lingering still, upon her breasts
My lovers heart beats softly
in the rhythm of her rest

Entwined within a selkie's skin
the waves will beckon her once more
Her love will leave me gently.
Exit out the bedroom door

Alone inside these covers cold
Both my eyes refused to close
Inspired by Neptune's magic
This mere mortal that she chose.

Note*- A Selkie is a creature from Celtic mythology, also called "Seelie",
which has the ability to take human form for a short period of time,
then must revert back to a sea creature. Usually a seal.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#162">Fast Forward</a>

In our rush
to master progress,
we've left something
far behind.
Our fast forward,
rapid, movements
left the path on which
we've climbed

Over bearing,
in our daring,
building vast
technology
We pollute
our constitutions,
then declare:
"That we are FREE"

Free from what?
I'll pose the question!
Do I have a right
to ask?
Or shouldn't I
delineate,...
to suggest
it might not last

With relentless
new advancements,
they can track us
with their bugs
Our society's
impairments
are controlled by
numbing drugs

All those
medical enhancements,
cost too much
for me and you
Since psychology's
enchantments
still condone
the sickest view

We've got lawyers
on the boob tube
Mobile phones
glued to our hands
We've got little
time for comfort
often sleeping
where we stand

Our big houses
are left vacant
No one's home,...
we're all at work
While the kids are
raised on M.T.V.
Dad just F---ed
his brand new clerk

Old traditions
lay fogotten
Buried deep
beside the dead
Replaced with
faulty circuits
mounted in our
modern heads

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#163">Knowing Full Well</a>

Nothing can dispel
my happiness:
Not you,
nor your anger,
nor your sorrow,
nor your guilt,
nor your shame,
nor your lies.

Nothing can dispel
my freedom:
Not you,
nor your chains,
nor your misery,
nor your schemes,
nor your pain,
nor your questions,

Nothing can dispel
my peace:
Not you,
nor your contempt
nor your noise
nor your phone calls
nor your slander
nor your morals

I willfully ignore all your
attempts.......
Knowing full well, that I'm
capable of destroying
myself

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#164">Lawyer Love Letter</a>

You absorb the air around you
with a tapestry
of words

You can obfuscate true meaning
in your trials of the
absurd

You can promise people one thing
Then you'll stab them in
the back

You're a scheming bunch of shysters
who are born for the
attack

You're a rancid pile of garbage
maggots crawling in
life's shit

You eat all the Georgia peaches
leaving us with just
the pits

You conspire to make you're money
in a system so
corrupt

You slither through our questions
but your answers are
abrupt

You're a plague upon this country
and your germ must now
be stopped

I think Lenin had the answer
when he said you should
be shot.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#165">"Moon and Stars"</a>

As a child
there was a night
I ventured out alone......,
to lay in the tall grass
of a nearby field.

I had decided,
quite impulsively........,
to test my courage
against the phantoms and mysteries
which inhabit every childs mind.

Laying there,......
the darkness seemed impenetrable
Crickets scatched their ancient songs
I swatted at mosquitoes, hungry for my blood
Around me the grasses moved in random waves
Dancing in the nocturnal breeze

Alone.....,
I listened with a fierce acuteness
for the first sounds
of my imaginations monsters

Adrenaline pumped
thru my body,
as I forced myself
to stillness.

Any moment now, I was sure.....,
some unseen nightmare
would carry me away
to uncertain doom.

Just then.....,
at the moment of my greatest despair,
the clouds parted,... and I saw,
perhaps for the first time,
the new moon cradling the stars

My fear ebbed away
like the tide of a great ocean
I was left with an unspeakable understanding,
pondering thoughts much larger
than my own human fraility

Not so long ago
there was another night
I ventured out with you,
quite impulsively

To again test my courage
against the mysterious phantoms
one creates, when love
has been betrayed

The darkness seemed impenetrable
Cynics sang their ancient songs
I swatted at emotions like mosquitos
hungry for my blood

I listened to you
with a fiece acutness
waiting......
for the first sign of my
imaginations monsters

Then.....
you smiled ,
and in that one gesture...,
I remembered the moon and stars

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#166">Do the Math</a>

I've communed with nature,
old rabbis and priests.
Conversed with mullah's
during holy day feasts.

I've talked to Gurus,
in bright yellow robes.
Spoken to shamans,
with feathered ear lobes

I've lit fire with Parsees,
who fled from Iran.
Prayed with a Shinto,
in Tokyo Japan.

Regardless of culture,
or color, or taste,
we're all human beings,
with the same spirit's face

Diversified people.
Diversified paths.
The truth is the same,
if we all do the math.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#167">For Van Morrison</a>

Tender soul....,
Imbued with the
whiskey seasoned
voice of a vagrant
angel

No one can
know a song
quite like you.....,
or live within its
heartache

It's your role....,
To sooth me in
your sadness
playing
dominos

You strain chords
of silent light,
as you walk me
thru the
Moondance

I'm consoled....,
by your sounds
come'n from
my beat old
radio

Into the mystic,
Avalon...
You just
keep on
keep'n on

So controlled,....,
by all the
mystery
that's
inside you

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#168">Heaven is vacant</a>

Heaven is vacant
threadbare somnambulists
peruse the gilded icons
missing the hidden clues
chosen by the blind

Heaven is vacant
pearly gates welded shut
to all but the initiated
as I wait in infinite's breadline
with a crust of faith

Heaven is vacant
e-mail temples send prayers;
greeting cards
to the one true God
in different zip codes

Heaven is vacant
marvelous manicured mansions
with holiday banquets
served on the wings of seraphim,
but nobody was interested

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#169">I'm Certain</a>

I'm certain there's a place for me
within space time's eternity.
Just what that is, I can't be sure
So many questions to adjure

If I survive my golden years
Retire, all my morbid fears
Then I can rest with all the saints
I'm certain there'll be no restraints

I'm certain God will disavow
My little "FUBAR'S" said out loud
And when I'm welcomed at the throne
She'll soon forget that I got stoned.

What if I'm wrong? Have I been duped?
By all this supernatural soup?
In such a case I'm still prepared
I'm certain then.....that I won't care.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#170">The Helm</a>

I'm harshly swept
through uncertain seas.
Abrasions are left,
on my broken knees.

Wounds deepen resolve
to an inner strength.
Waves open now showing
a path of great length.

Dim gateways appear,
mysteriously,
dragging me out of
my obscurity.

A chalice is placed
by some angel's hand.
Light's ardor exposes
a rose on the land.

I taste the sweet wine.
My lips on the rim.
I smell the perfume,
and then I see him.

He beckons me come,....
"Repose, be at ease.
Your weariness rest,
from uncertainties".

"How heavy the ships
with sails parched and torn,
that drift on the seas
of lifes bitter storms"

"Your captains immersed
with dreams of the dead.
Your cargos of wealth
have all turned to lead"

"Your rudder's been sheared
by rocks from the reefs
Your hull has been breached,
the holes of your grief".

"By chance you have washed
into my bright realm.
You build a new ship.
I'll be your new helm".

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#171">Texan Limerick</a>

There once was a Texan named Preston
Who thought that he lived in a Weston
He would pull his pop gun
When delivering a pun
But his humor was less than depresson
__________________________________

<a name="#172">Preston Limerick #2</a>

There once was a poet named Preston
who would post some erotic suggestions
When the writers would read
all the comments he'd feed
They'd go straight to the church for confession
____________________________________

<a name="#173">Bugle Limerick</a>

There once was a Scotsman named Doughal
whose poems were decidedly frugal
when comments would lag
he'd pull horns out on bags
tooting contempt
on his bugle.
______________________

<a name="#174">Washing Sewers Clean</a>

Raindrops fall laughing
at the winter's melting snow
washing sewers clean.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#175">Safe Harbors</a>

I have honored
the courage
of stalwart young men
giving too many lives
for their causes

But the brokers
which play
in the worlds disarray
shift my thought into
myriad pauses

I've seen it before
swearing "Never Again"
will I rally round
rhetoric's
schemes

Paying debts with our power
as they gloat by the hour
Growing richer
from war's bloody
dreams

So it has been
and so it will be
war benefits
only the
few

In the rockets red glare
Some can comfortably stare
from safe harbors
protecting their
view

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#176">Leviathan Stirs</a>

Hidden
by the abyss
of unnumbered fathoms,
"Ancient of Days"
He sleeps within all human myth
Sequestered...,
by the dreams of God.

Eyes open...,
older than time,
deeper than the sea.
Searching...,
myriad thoughts occurring,
his consciousness
re-awakens

He remembers
creation, angelic war,
the fall from grace.
He recalls
Lucifier, "Son of the Morning",
blazing across
the firmament.

Before
his epochal sleep,
he struggled with
his purpose...
Now, all is clear...
"I am Leviathan,
I am destruction."

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#177">Cinderella Drunk</a>

Tonight I am eternal
"Heavens gift"
almost supernal
with verbosity and diction
far above
most mortal men

With malignant boring glory
I insist on telling stories
which all have heard
a thousand times
at least
since you were ten.

So if I must, or if you may
discourse
on what I'm prone to say
Cinderella's slippers lost
just after
3 AM

With the mornings celebration
I won't feel the same
elation
Tequila dreams don't linger
past the barroom's
closing call

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#178">Birds of Prey</a>

Swiftly fly the birds of prey,
on this sunlit, bomby day.
Sonic wings warn those below
No shelter for the hunted

Eyes search ground for quarries there
practised, predatory stares
Claws will flex their steely grip
Blood seeths inside the moment.

A mother hides her tender young
Screams escape her baby's lungs
Eagles dine on cold revenge
No solace in the carnage

Talons rip through flesh and bone
Mercies gift is never shown
Birds of prey have now been fed
They fly back to thier eyries.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#179">Crackers and Dip</a>

A worn out old poet
curls a cynical lip
He recalls when his verse
was not all the same schtick

Ensconced within silence
while the alcohol drips
Words refuse to march forward
from his minds empty crypt

Daydreaming at midnight
(a devout lunatic)
He spends time with his demons
to copy their quips

Lamp's dim luminations
light frustrations dark pit
His pen falls to the table
out of reach it has slipped

A dull drunken stupor
pulls him into its grip
As he ponders extinction
eating crackers and dip

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#180">Willy John</a>

Ol Willy John's a mountain boy,
raised down in the holler
He eats mostly coons and possums
cuz he would'nt earn a dollar

"As bright as bricks" his mother'd say
"But not quite so well refined"
"He doesn't favor people much,
they're usually to unkind".

Now folks roun here get chills oft time
When Willy shuffles by
They'll never look him in the face
a'feared a "Evil Eye"

Still,... Ol Willy's got some answers,
that he ain't learned from you or me.
He communicates with spirits
deep in the forest, where he's free

And all them damn "Filozofers",
"Preachers", "Doctors"an "Greeks"
Just can't hold one tiny candle
To the truth when Willy speaks

He don't use no big fancy wurds
Fact is,.......he rarely speaks at all,
and when he deems to utter one,
its in an appalachian drawl

Yep,...He's one hard plug to unnerstand
In a world filled with conceit
He don't care for shiney trinkets
and he don't lie, and scheme, and cheat.

His only friend's an ol'grey buck
All the men were prone to say,
They've hunted him for years and years,
but,...he always gets away.

One fella tells a story......
When he was hunt'en in the wood
He saw that buck and Willy talk'en
as he was hidden where he stood

Now mind you,...these are mountain folk,
these tales grow tall as grass
If you believe all that you heard
You'd think my balls were brass.

But,... I do believe in magic,........
and this mountain's got it's share
As long as Willy roams the highlands
I'm convinced its still out there.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#181">Recommended Reading</a>

The best verse
is for the masses
It reviles
elitist asses
Simple in it's message,
so that all
may comprehend

I can't advocate
with passion
any poetry in fashion
Forsooth.....,
most modern poets
retch thier words
onto the page

Give me Yeats
or Burns or Byron
instead of some
insipid scion.
Their art still breathes
beyond the grave,
and these I recommend.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#182">Cold Steel on my Temple</a>

At times life is
so numbing
I can readily
imagine what
death is like
"Silence is Golden"

At times smiles seem
so inhospitable
that I'd rather
you not make
the effort

At times all eyes
appear glazed,
within sockets
of blind,
rabid foam

At times I appreciate
the ease with which
the bullett
slides into the chamber
Cold steel
on my temple

Times like these
my love

a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#183">An Irish Poem by John Lennon</a>

Some alternative St. Patricks day lyrics I thought i'd share by a man who, at least i believe, alot of people forget was in fact Irish....as well as a great musician, New Yorker and poet>>>> I highly recomend hearing it as it was a song that was not a hit and kind of got lost along the way>>>

Title: The Luck Of The Irish
Album: Some Time In New York City

Written by John Lennon & Yoko Ono

If you have the luck of
the irish,
You'd be sorry and wish you
were dead
You should have the luck of
the irish
And you'd wish you was
English instead

A thousand years of torture
and hunger

Drove the people away from
their land,
A land full of beauty and wonder
Was raped by the british
brigands, Goddman
Goddman

If you could keep voices
like flowers
There'd be a sharmock all over
the world.
If you could drink dreams
like the irish streams

Then the world would be high
as the mountain of morn

In the School they told us
the story
How the english divided
the land,
Of the pain, the death and
the glory
And the poets of auld
Eireland

If we could make chains with
the morning dew
The world would be like
Galway Bay
Let's walk over rainbows
like leprechauns
The world would be one big
Blarney stone

Why the hell are the English
there anyway?
As they kill with god on
their side
Blame it all on the kids and
the IRA
As the bastards commit genocide
Aye, Aye
Genocide

If you had the luck of
the irish
You should have the luck of
the irish
You'd be sorry and wish you
were dead
And youd wish you were
english instead
Yes you'd wish you was
english instead

by John Lennon

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#184">Better to Pretend</a>

When I see you
it's better not to
say what I think
There's too much
distance between
our words now

Better to pretend
there is no trouble.
Enjoy the comradery
of our shared past
Ignore the space
separating us.

We can laugh
at the good times
Drink to the banter
of skewed logic.
Imagine ourselves
immortal again.

Someone said,
"Abscence makes
the heart grow fonder".
I'm not sure thats true,
unless one can remember
where they came from.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#185">Beat Down</a>

I know you think you have all the power.
That you can indiscriminatly weild
your broad brush, to paint convincing
subterranean distortions of the truth

I know you think we'll parade in line.
Up past the castles lining Madison Avenue
Past the derilicts,junkies,homeless and whores
Oblivious to the sound of our own distruction

I know you think we don't notice the pentagrams
Dangling around your upper class, in-bred throats
Dark diamonds symbolizing a fraternity of corrupted souls
Masters of serpentine greed and avarice.

I know you think that the worlds your oyster,
and the pearls all yours, despite those who drown.
The waves of your world wash nothing but the dead
while mud drenched corpses pray for a cleansing rain.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#186">I'm Certain</a>

I'm certain there's a place for me
within space time's eternity.
Just what that is, I can't be sure
So many questions to adjure

If I survive my golden years
Retire, all my morbid fears
Then I can rest with all the saints
I'm certain there'll be no restraints

I'm certain God will disavow
My little "FUBAR'S" said out loud
And when I'm welcomed at the throne
She'll soon forget that I got stoned.

What if I'm wrong? Have I been duped?
By all this supernatural soup?
In such a case I'm still prepared
I'm certain then.....that I won't care.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#187">Digesting the Turkeys</a>

Well,...It's that time of year again!
Family sitting around the table
in various degrees of intoxication.
A smattering of small-talk
here and there, to remind us
how thankful we'll be
when they go home.

Tradition!! Yeah,... thats all that matters!
Father Mike stops by to offer grace,
in exchange for a couple shots of
Jamesons. He slurs the words
of a bibulous blessing .
Sanctioning the commencement
of our gluttony.

Uncle Steve gives his annual reminder
of the hardships he faced in WW2.
He was a cook.
Spatulas were in short supply.
Everyone nods at the appropriate
moments in unison. Offering an
occasional, respectful, ..."Uh Huh".

Aunt Minn joyfully explains the intricacies
of her irritable bowel syndrome to my
12 year old nephew.
She's enthralled by the story.
He maintains his composure admirably,
despite the "OK-enough all ready" look
in his eyes.

At the childrens table in the other room,
my two daughters are carrying on the
latest debate in a series, entitled:
"Who's the Bigger Dweeb"
Video games are left running in the den,
providing an even more
irritating ambiance to the meal.

Well... At least there' "Football"
to look forward to after desert.
I hate football!!!!!
4 to 6 hours of "Football"!!!!
I'll appear interested.
While I continue to digest
the turkeys.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#188">"Congenital Bores"(3rd in the trilogy w/Philistine)</a>

I admire persistence and wit
for most it exists where
they sit

Those dull diatribes
preserved by
their scribes

Constrain them
when they try
to shit

Congenital bores they abound
they speak without making
a sound

If you ask them how?
They'll take a
short bow
.
Spilling brains
all over
the ground.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#189">"Philistines"</a>

The Philistines
assault my walls
Mental midgets
held in thrall

A dullard's wit
on verbal swords
Sharp weapons they
can ill afford

Their missals fly
typed out in haste
abhorent notes
in cyber-space

Pitch fork-ed tongues
belie the truth
Their message lost
beneath my roof

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#190">Evergreen</a>

An emerald green creation
Your bright branchs always form
Questions for my contemplation,
which survive
all bitter storms

What magic has your nature made,
as the ages pass you by?
How can you keep your boughs of jade,
while mere mortals
live and die?

How do you stand in timelessness,
unchanged throughout the years?
Do elemental spirits nest,
silent to my
human ears?

I rest my limbs against your bark.
Trying quietly to hear.
Some secret that your heart imparts,
which can quell my
human fear.

In the silence of my torment,
the tree whispered in my dream.
"My life lasts only a moment",
"Human souls
are evergreen".

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#192">Incognito</a>

A north country breeze
masquerades through the trees,
to make green balsams play,
on this hot August day.
The sun wears a face,
seeming quite out of place,
for he's always been proud,
even hidden by clouds.
Some Cat-bird will sing.
Through the hills it will ring.
Mimic other birds tones,
in a voice of its own.
The thunder will sound,
as the rain hits the ground
Leaving me to pretend
Summers not at its end.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#193">The Exchange</a>

My spirit wandered outside my body,
2 steps beyond my fleshly constraints
Try as I might,... I could not catch up.

I trudged onward, bleeding aimlessly
Alone across the war torn landscape
Believing in nothing, except survival

My rifle became an unwilling crutch
It's mud filled muzzle the only support
to my war injured consciousness.

Sheilding my eyes against the sun's glare,
another figure stumbles across the carnage
He's wearing tattered enemy colors

Both of us stop to stare at the shared irony.
Both of us puzzled by the others disposition
Both of us no longer intrigued by righteousness

After careful assesment, we move forward,
each in our own opposite, directionless path
Through what remains of our conflict.

Briefly, we stop to size up the enemy.
He silently offers me his canteen.
I hand him my last stained cigarette.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
______________________________

<a name="#194">"A Stronger Metal"</a>

Through the years
we have become one.
A stronger metal,
forged on the
anvil of life.

You are my sword's
sharp edge
Slicing gracefully asunder
all the world's
confusion.

Without you by my side,
I am defenseless
against my enemies.
Discomforted,... by
my vulnerability.

You have proven
your love in fierce battles....
In my hand,...
your swift devotion
has never faltered

In times of peace,...
I will always see your
reflection.
And honor your
passionate beauty.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

[bags123]

Part Eight
___________________________

<a name="#195">Substance Abuse</a>

Some nomenclature makes me squirm
False ideals contained in terms

Resplendent quotes of the absurd
Contained within their subtle words

The "War on Drugs", "Substance Abuse",
both shadows of the same excuse!

One hundred eighty million pills
prescribed last year for mental ills!

Remove the pain,...my lifes gone wrong!
Why can't I feel that I belong!

I'll often make one happy point:
"If you're depressed, go smoke a joint!"

But... that's taking the easy way.
Or that's what we've been taught to say.

Meanwhile Pfizer hawks their wares
The F.D.C. just blindly stares

Pill prices rise with greed's attempt
to dislocate our common sense

Our people die from day to day
because they can't afford to pay

So open wide the prison gates
and send the junkies to thier fates

Except of course, the wealthy few
whose lawyers pull some strings on cue

No justice in our legal halls
unless the payoffs not to small.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
__________________________

<a name="#196">Credentials</a>

I don't bring much to the table
Not to smart, and no degrees
My spelling is atrocious
I forget to cross my "T's"

All my cloths are rather threadbare
I prefer sweat shirts and jeans
I'll never buy Armani
or the latest fashion scenes.

I'll work hard at what I'm doing
but I'm not a prodigy
Don't know all of the answers
that you may expect of me.

If you ask me what I'm thinking
you may be surprised to hear
an answer to your question
thats confronting, but sincere.

I've got no use for diplomats
dripping honey from their tongues,
reading from their palimpsests,
hot air filling up their lungs.

If you're looking for a "Yes Man",
who agrees with all you say,
Perhaps you should look elsewhere
for a clone made out of clay.

I'll treat you with as much respect
as you're willing to give me
Contribute my best efforts
to your honest company.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
__________________________

****This really isn't poetry, but it involves a poetic insight. LOL

<a name="#197">OIL CHANGE</a>

I've got to admit,....I've never been a mechanical wizard. Never took auto-shop in school, couldn't tell a carburator, from a manifold. When something went awry with my car, I'd pop the hood (if I could find the appropriate release) and stare at the engine. I had no godly idea what I was looking at or for, but hey.......
thats what I saw all the other guys do, so my male ego dictated this action first before I had it towed to
Joe's Garage. After purchasing a used 1982 Oldsmobile in mint condition, I convinced myself that my mechanical illiteracy had to end here and now! I bought several books on auto-repair, and felt thrilled when it became necessary for me to do my first oil change. I went out and bought all the tools the book said I needed, an oil wrench,drop cloth, socket set, filter, and 5 quarts of premium Quaker State.
My first problem occured when I realized I didn't have enough room to crawl under the car without aggrevating my severe claustrophobia. I neglected to buy a ramp, or the appropriate lift. So after a few minutes of great frustration I went into the house, washed my hands and called a friend for his advice on my predicament. I always admired Brians mechanical ability and felt sure he'd have the right solution for the problem at hand. Brians advice, was to pull one side of the car up on the curb outside my street, thereby allowing me enough room for unfettered access to both the filter I needed to remove and the drain plug.
OK, sounded good to me. He said if I have any other issues feel free to give him another ringy dingy.
Feeling like I just recieved a revelation from Yawah himself, I confidently manuvered the car onto the curb
as I was told. Sure enough, just like Brian had said, I now had enough room to comfortably get under the car and do my thing. I layed down the drop sheet,because I wanted to be a neat mechanic. Then I positioned the oil pan under the drain plug. My socket felt like it molded into my hot little hand. I was really getting a machismo rush. When I attempted to affix it to the drain plug it was slightly to big for the size of the nut. NO PROBLEM!!! I'll just skid my self out and get the next smaller size. This occured 5 times before I realized I had gotten a metric socket set, and since my car was made in the good old USA, I needed and SAE socket set. Don't ask me what SAE stands for, I don't know till this day. Back into the house, scub the hands, pick up the phone to call my mechanical mentor. Brian said he would run over and lend me his socket set. COOL!! Thanks Bro! He shortly arrived and asked if I wanted him to stick around to help. NO!!! Thanks anyway but I have to do this myself. OK then,.....call me if you need anything. YEAH YEAH!! I will, but I should be fine from here on out. Thanks again. Back under the car I went feeling a little stressed. The books I read said this usually takes only 20 minutes, and I'd already invested an hour and a half, but I knew I had it under control now. From here on out I would be "MR. MECHANIC". The drain plug came off easily, and I proudly watched the flow of ebony oil flowing nicely into my plastic pan. After a few minutes it stopped and I realized I had to use my other tool, the very manly looking OIL WRENCH. I put the band around the filter and started to twist. Remembering what the books had taught me. "RIGHTY TIGHTY,LEFTY LUCY". Yeah I was really on my way now! DAMN!!! It won't budge an inch! I tried several more times checking to be sure I was doing the lefty lucy thing. No luck! Back out from under the car into the house, wash the hands, pick up the phone, call Brian. Brian told me in his very diplomatic way, that sometimes oil filters can get stuck. In order to loosen them up a little, he sometimes took a screwdriver and tapped it through the filter to get the leverage necessary to pry it loose. Once it's loose, it should come off easily. OK.......... sounds right to me.
Back under the car with my best screwdriver and hammer, I carefully tapped it through the aluminium cylinder as described and flexed it to my left. LEFTY LUCY right?. A gapping hole soon appeared in the filter, and oil began spilling onto my forehead. I quickly squirmed out from under the car, cussing up a storm and promply threw the hammer in oily disgust right through the lower living room window. Into the house, wash hands and face, change cloths, pick up phone call Brian. Line busy. FUUUUUCCCCCK!!!!!!!!!
Screw this........I got in my car and was going to drive the SOB to the local JIFFY LUBE about 2 miles away.
Little did I realize, that as I drove away I was leaving a trail of oil spewing from the hole I left in the filter.
I miraculously got three quarters of a mile from my house, before my engine siezed and threw a rod. I had to walk back home leaving my Oldsmobile bleeding and dying on the interstate. The new engine cost 2200 dollars, more than I paid for the car 3 weeks before. Since that time I've burned all my books on auto mechanics, and am a frequent visitor at JOE'S GARAGE.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
__________________________

<a name="#198">Epiphany 2002?</a>

Desparate for an answer
worldly claws had me embraced
I searched to find the reason why
my faith had been erased

Relying on my studies
pride soon lead me far astray
I labored with each mystery
unconvinced by all I weighed

If all the explanations
from the books I read were true
then God himself is more perplexed
than either me or you

I felt that I was missing
information from "The Source"
But how do I communicate
with such an unseen force?

"Pray my child", a still small voice
so tender and serene
"Pray to find the answers
which will unlock all your dreams"

PRAY ...Isaid...and who are you!
to answer all my crys
then Mother Mary spoke to me
a fact I can't deny

"Man has a great potential"
She said through veils of tears
"Thats why I've labored here on earth
these past 2000 years"

"You're all my precious children
Christ entrusted you to me
"Care for them my mother"
was his final anguished plea"

She told me that mans intellect
denies Gods love and grace
The evil which we perpetrate
cloud his enlightened face

"Your ears can hear the angels sing
in anthems so sublime
Your eyes can fathom miracles
just let your spirit climb"

"A quiet voice is speaking
in every human heart
Ignore it at your peril
or truth will soon depart"

"The shadow of the serpent
brings confusion to the mind
sophisticated sophistry
to maim, corrupt, and blind"

"Even where you least suspect
this evil can abide
in sacred texts, in hallowed halls
growing stronger as it hides"

"To bend your will to its intent
half truths become its tool
Clearly see it now my child,
or you'll be its latest fool"

As quickly as it happened
she said "I now must go"
the scent of roses filled the room
from where I do not know

Now I'm sitting here ...just thinking,
about the words she said
was it just imagination
from some demon in my head?

Am I being too irrational
to believe Gods love can be?
Are the answers all so simple?
I"m not sure, ..can you tell me?

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__________________________

<a name="#199">Fooling Myself</a>

The Golden God's of my youth
stand quietly on a dusty shelf,
with all the other trinkets and
paraphernalia of that long gone,
heady time.

Occasionally I pause momentarily
Offering my pensive oblations
Connecting with forgotten emotions
Convincing myself, I'm not dead
Just wiser.

But..., as I proceed to check the fax,
E-mail my wife,return my messages,
and call corporate for the latest marching orders,
I realize that I'm just
fooling myself.

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__________________________

<a name="#200">The Beast</a>

Have you felt it too?
Ill-defined, yet palpable?
An indescribable electric tension
hanging in the air.
A laboriously heavy,
insidious,phantasm
I can't see it,
but I feel its presence
Did some forgotten
planetary alignment occur?
Did arcane conjuring
release this unseen force?
It dwells
among us now
Belligerent,...
in it's invisability
Feeding silently.
Devouring passion.
Encouraging apathy.
Nourished by human negation.

We sprint ever faster
into our sterile future
It follows...
sniffing the trail of
discarded dreams
Growing stronger
with each step.
It tempts us with
delusions of granduer,
terminal technologies
polluting our thought streams,
with evil equations
At some point
we all will recognize the creature
Finally understanding
the ancient revelation:
For we ourselves
are becoming
the beast.

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__________________________

<a name="#201">Damn Machine!</a>

I careen off the corners of existence
like an irate pinball
Not sure of its path
Hitting all the bumpers,
lighting all the lanes.
Only to drop out into
inevitable darkness,
with a prolonged, wretched sigh
of defeat.

I've played this game far to long
The table is unfairly slanted
My fingers are numb
I can't get into the groove......
without tilting
Damn machine!!!!
It takes steel balls and hope
to pull the plunger
on another day.

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__________________________

<a name="#202">Do what you do</a>

There are those times
when we wonder.......
Is all this effort worth it?
You reach a point.....
Maybe it comes with age,
when you ponder
your own inconsequence
You become tired,tired, tired,
of the beauty
of the thrills
of the closeness,and its
associated distances.
You realize you can't possibly
say what you mean,
or mean what you say.
All that's left is for you
to do what you do.
In our superficial
way.

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__________________________

<a name="#203">What is a Poet?</a>

A poet's one who lights the fuse
exploding questions in his clues
A query pondered with a pen
To share his thoughts before the end

A poet's wit is darkly bright
transcribed by moon and muse's light
Exploring caverns deep and dim
Offering all that's held within

A poet's words can spill and rhyme
Like undiluted vintage wine
Too strong for some of niave taste
This drink they fear makes them unchaste

A poet's mind is fossil fuel
Which breaks the chains of stodgy rules
His blood has turned an inky black
While waiting verses next attack

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__________________________

<a name="#204">My Reality</a>

Colors,... are seen differently
through my eyes.
I've always known it.
Spoken words,..pale in thier
attempts to communicate incandescent brilliance
failing dismally to describe
what I percieve.
My Oceans are unfathomable
Vaster than the shallow seas of most imaginations.
Their waves break over me
stirring the sands of my consciousness
with deep secrets
The GOD I was taught
as a child,
has grown too small,
a compact car,
full of limitations, few options.
He ignores infinite mystery
for economies sake
They say that "Reality, is merely a function
of individual perception"
who knows what hand or taloned claw
has draped my senses
with this peculiar awareness
Be it a blessing or a curse,
I'm thankful.

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__________________________

<a name="#205">Tall Tales on the Mountain</a>

Ol Willy John's a mountain boy,
who was raised down in the holler
He eats mostly coons and possums
cuz he could'nt earn a dollar

"As bright as bricks" his mother'd say
"But not quite so well refined"
"He doesn't favor people much,
they're most usually to unkind".

Now folks roun here get chills oft time
When they see Willy shuffle by
They'll never look him in the face
a'feared and scared of "Evil Eye"

Still,... Ol Willy's got some answers,
that he ain't learned from you or me.
He communicates with spirits
deep in the forest, where he's free

And all them damn "Filozofers",
"Hell Fire Preachers", "Doctors"an "Greeks"
Just can't hold one tiny candle
To the truth when Ol Willy speaks

He don't use no big fancy wurds
Fact is,.......he rarely talks at all,
and when he deems to utter one,
its with an appalachian drawl

Yep,...He's one hard to figer out
In a world thats filled with conceit
He don't care for shiney baubles
and he don't lie, and scheme, and cheat.

His only friend's an age-ed buck
All the men-folk were prone to say
They've hunted him for years and years,
somehow,...he always gets away.

One feller tells a good story......
When he was hunt'en in the wood
He saw that buck and Willy talk
as he was hide'n where he stood

Now mind you,...these are mountain folk,
these campfire tales grow tall as grass
If you believe all that you heard
You'd think my balls were made of brass.

But,... I do believe in magic,........
and this mountain's got it's fair share
As long as Willy roams these hills
I'm convinced it'll be out there.

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__________________________

<a name="#206">Winter Walk</a>

It's getting colder lately
winter whispers to me
through expectant autumn air

Summers green leaves
which had danced in the trees
lie now, in crumbling brown piles

Discarded, they wait...
for a gentle snow to shroud them
in whiteness

Silently...
they bear final testimony
to what has been

Overhead, the geese fly
noisily to the south
Enduring their ageless ritual

It must be puzzling for the young ones,
familiar surroundings,
becoming more chill and inhospitable as seasons change

Somehow, they know to fly...
searching for the warmth and comfort
which once was theirs

It's beginnng to snow!
you warned me to take my coat
I should have listened,...it's a long walk home.

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__________________________

<a name="#207">LOOK OUT WORLD</a>

Look out world!
I'm using technology!
Don't care for,
your vain ideology!

Walls are breached
without an apology!
Reading from,
Islamic theology!

Jihad preached,
divine eschatology!
Experts failed,
in Arab psychology!

Had enough,
of western ecology!
Starting now,
I'll re-write cosmology!

LOOK OUT WORLD!

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__________________________

<a name="#208">Clouds Before the Storm</a>

Copy Cat Students
quoting rote and rusty lies
etched in their minds
with the big lead pencils
of conformity

Man, recreated...
as the servants
of the new computer God
tap the keys in a song
of endless monotony

Charlatans, in crisp blue suits
speak useless rhetoric,
enhancing our complacency
as we worship at
television shrines

Can prison bars be broken?
Who will open the cage of our apathy.
Rescue us from Redundancy,
test the severity of
our complacency

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____________________

<a name="#209">Former Love Letter</a>

Winner: Poem of the Week: Sep 19, 2004


I can't remember
just how long it's been,
since I last wrote
to you.
Possibly
this past December,
before we spoke
our last adieu

I've thought
to write you often,
but I don't know
what to say
"Sorry"
seemed so repeticious,
in my own mind
anyway

I really hope
you're doing well,
but I'm glad
that I can't see
Your arms wrapped round
another man
The way you once
held me

It's three o'clock
this morning
Down the hall
Westminster chimes
The nights long hours
are lonely,
but overall,
I'm doing fine

Next time
I'm in Chicago
I'll ring you
on the phone
You needn't answer
if your busy,
or prefer to be
alone

Chicagos' streets
are windy
It even says so
in a song.
I'm never sure
if I'm still wanted,
or just needed
all along

When you read this,
at least smile,
because our memories
weren't all bad
It was just
the situation
which prevented
what we had.

**************************
Admin note:
Nominated for Poem of the Week on 9/16/2004

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___________________

[bags123]

<a name="#210">Midnight</a>

Nowhere is the silence
more pronounced
than at midnight

Midnight...
When the only distractions
are the moon and the stars

Midnight...
Even the birds are sleeping,
while I pen this memoir

Midnight...
Just as one day begins,
and another day ends

Midnight...
Every breeze through the pine trees
becomes my best friend.

Midnight...
A time to reflect and
consider

If I've got what it takes
to be one of lifes'
quitters

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>
________________________________

<a name="#211">Disclaimers</a>

A conspiracys' solution
doesn't heed the
constitution
It lives below the surface
where most eyes
can't ever see

In their
labyrinthian
chambers
Moles post signs
with vague
disclaimers
Advertising
for a few good rats
to join they're
hidden cause

Greed defiles our institutions
with its corporate
absolutions
And rears its head
below the surface
of our nations liberty.

<a href="#index">Return to Table of Contents </a>

[bags123]

<a name="212"> As We Soar On The Wind </a>

To be lost in the downpour
of loves tempest storm
On a warm balmy day
in July

Nary a cloud to disturb
our embrace, as we soar
on its wind through
the sky

The sun warms our bodies
We spead out our wings,
and realize we've never
asked why.

Love can introduce magic,
or madness in turn,
but it always can make
people fly.

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[bags123]

<a name="213"> Still Both Alive </a>

Your hair blows in the summer breeze
Flaxen, gilded, pirouettes
Dancing freely on the wind
Reflecting sun before it sets

Beneath the moon your green eyes shine
Precisely focused into mine,
and soon we'll lay below soft pines,
where whippoorwills sing by design

I'll sense your lips upon my face
Curling gently in my ear
Whispers linger, no regrets
For love is all we now can hear

Perhaps when morning does arrive,
last evenings feelings might survive
If not at least we've both contrived,
to prove that we're still both alive.

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[bags123]

<a name="214"> Where Once Love Belonged </a>

Another piece of furniture made to rest your feet upon
An ottomans' recliner, for an overstuffed maison
Pillows wrapped around your head to silence all that's gone
Drapes occlude the sunshine with their finest French chiffon

I am buried like the dead who marched on far Bataan
In a comfortable existence, when the television's on
I'll watch from covered windows like a jaded old Don Juan
Hoping for a single glimpse of where once love belonged

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[bags123]

<a name="215"> Solitary Clone </a>

A solitary person is the best
To search among the puzzles of his quest
On roads fresh paved with cynics he's out guessed
Relaxing at a pub without protest

A solitary person rarely speaks
He browses in new shops for old antiques
Perturbed often for days if not for weeks
Over answers quoted in his own critiques

A solitary person is atoned
No one to ring him loudly on the phone
And if perchance he's someone that you've known
Perhaps it's just his solitary clone.

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<a name="#216"> Enigmatic Faith </a>

Who is this figure on the cross?
Broken, bruised and torn
"King of the Jews" a sign proclaims
above his crown of thorns

I gaze upon his effigy
Struggling... just to understand
The mystery of this sacrifice
God made for mortal man

2000 years have come and gone
since that eventful day
Does it still make a difference
when we contemplate and pray?

I see so many people
trapped by worldy misery
Is the covenant in disrepair?
Can we still find amnesty?

I compromise convictions
in attempts to be like him
doubts rise to plague my tender faith
turning passion into sin

My past is full of phantoms
My present so confused
My futures full of questions
built around corrupted clues

Help me precious savior
to make the darkness bright
Help my indecision
with the guidance of your light

Let it shine so I can see
The path which leads to you
Strengthen me, so when its time
your presence I may view.

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____________________

<a name="#217"> "Hollow People"</a>

Hollow people
Flesh and bone, void of spirit
Consumed with erecting modern megaliths
of materialism.

How we enjoy
the spits and sputters
of our sophisticated tongues.
We wallow in the corruption of our avarice

Disharmony, violence, greed,
mold the new "World Order"
Unspoken words lay buried in our hearts.
Somber eyes plead for attention,
bathing for hours in the light of our cathode shrines.

Faith is lost,
Communication reshapes itself
into the cold steel
of our rational minds.

We disavow mystery as subhuman.
Replacing it with the folly
of our microscopic intellects
Assured that we have all the answers.

Passion and Honor
are no longer the warriors aspirations
Gentility and grace are forgotton
as the inherent privalege of womenhood.

We futily seek some sexual equality
forgetting the duality of humanity,
equal opposites,
delicately balencing lifes structure.

I am a part of this!
Reluctantly, I join the parade
in their vain pursuits.
But increasingly now,
I cry alone in my emptyness.

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<a name="#218"> Families</a>

Families are a mixed bag
with parts that rarely fit
Thrown together by an unseen hand
then added bit by bit

Like presents 'neath the Christmas tree
wrapped with paper and with bows
each one contains their secret
that the other seldom knows

Because of lifes adversity
it's often hard to see
that hidden deep in each our heart's
is a need for unity

"No man is an island"
the sages wisely say
yet, each must choose the path we walk
in our our own appointed way

Families sometimes drift apart
they lose the love which binds
replacing their affection
with whatever they can find

It's never been an easy chore
to make a family work
We're all different, with opinions
and can at times... be jerks!

All of us must realize
responsibility
to keep alive that sacred trust
we call a "Family"

It is fragile, but enduring
if we only treat it right
There'll be a candle in the window
that will guide us home tonight.

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_______________________

<a name="#219"> A Shift into Slow</a>

Winter is spending a cold icy day
Beneath woolen blankets beside a logs flame
Propped by a bottle of red Cabernet
I remember its face, but forget its name

Summer’s spent racing myself down the roads
Macadamized memories behind every toll
Déjà vu’s dealing last years episodes
While speeding around… A gold fish in his bowl

Autumn and Spring,… I’m just barely aware
The leaves are all gone, or the snows disappear
Often I realize I’ve missed what they share
The cost of advancement within my career

I prefer winter time’s blustery blows
As it forces my life to shift into slow


*********************************************************
Admin note:
Nominated for Poem of the Week on 1/3/2004

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_________________

<a name="#220"> Against A Tide Of Dark Delights</a>

Yet even in the blackest nights
When Hell invokes her demon spawn
Whose fetid breath, tempts with invites
To come away to Babylon

Will I discourage her despite ,
dark pleasures of the woebegone?
To keep in check my appetites,
and realize where the line is drawn?

How sweetly sings this sirens song
The throbbing drums of Canaanites
Convince me that I can’t last long
Against this tide of warming bites

The hours speed to mornings dawn
And sun shines through my windows bright
Alone I lay,…with demons gone
How very rude, and impolite.

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<a name="#221"> The Depths Below </a>

The liquid shield of waters edge
protects old secrets some allege
In fathoms deep,
long histories,
protected by
its mysteries

Did man once swim as fish now do ?
To crawl one day from salty stew ?
Upon the land,
to stand erect
Or swing from trees,
as some suspect

I doubt we’ll truly ever know
Just why we left the depths below
A riddle with
divine pretext ?
Or maybe God
was just perplexed

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<a name="#222"> Flights of Fancy </a>

Such fitful nights my sleep has kept
Unnerved by dreams where I have leapt
From frozen mountain peaks windswept
To spread broad spirit wings except
My efforts show me too inept
And awkward in this flights concept
I soon realize I’m not adept
At flights of fancy when I’ve slept

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<a name="#223">Final Demonstration</a>

Waving picket bandelleros
Marching, brave, Toreadors
Once a chosen generation
which abominated wars

All their tents were brightly colored
Their long hair was kept unshorn
Holy Levi's were the fashion
when their children first were born

As they aged they lost their courage,
and their choiceness faded fast
Then they lost the indignation
which identified their past

Now they're dieing of frustration,
at the news they hear and read
In a final demonstration towards
the world they lost to greed

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_________________

[GoddessErika]

<center>Edit Complete (Thanx to Heinzs!) 8/13/2005 GoddessErika</center>