Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Nothing More

Nothing More




Nothing more repugnant

than a man made of gold

who's slippery tongue and tower

of glass shades the world in

aspects of power that lasts

forever or so it would seem

as I lift spirits inward today

and tomorrow both never to

borrow of his files we spit and

we curse them till death do we stand.


Nothing more gracious

than a man made of wood

who's hospitality and favor

for our well being asks but a

pittance to savor this life

as I rush toward the spiral

and cheer in his passions

so dear is the planning and sowing which

on solid built platforms never stops growing to

hold us together as one with his art.


Nothing more hollow than

a man made of steam

who's sputtering and spurting

pushes empty promises forward

to another day flirting his flaws

in scattered echoes that

remind us how he was

such a bountiful ocean does

courageously, now evaporated

and shallow in all purpose.


Nothing more timeless than

a man made of stone

who's cold stare at our mistakes

forgets his grieving muse and

what lays bare to his soul

should it cast a shadow on our

desire recites over time what

we knew would transpire with

then and learn from his wisdom

to become who we are.


Nothing more stoic

than a man made of blood

who's hands are blistered from

toil for his family's well being

and never resisted any seeing or calling

to speak truth for it is his

power begins beyond any god

made by man who will rise

as the flesh holds all

precious contents within.


Nothing more heinous

than a man made of lead

who's deceit with all living

gives uneasy decisions for

gain under orders and leaves

the mind queazy as he rains

down his harm to those who would

not hear his lies for the

thunder of empire he

gathers all our dust in trade.


Nothing more balanced

than a man made of salt

whose firm ethics are moral

with whomever he waits with

no matter to consequences how great

as they are freely awarded to

him as he ponders what

next journey wonders hold

for all of our days

spent healing each other.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

Trip talkin Boys - Headin

Trip talkin Boys - Headin

to the Delta where the

Blues is the life and more

for me to play with in this

sphere - who causes that

Time change to be so real

that the few white boys

who understand search out

the kings of the genre while

they still reside on our wave-

length - That's a curious

piece of Mojo I got me and

I always have it with me

where I go and How I live

- yo, the man said it, "I'm

a voodoo child, Lawd Knows"...

Thursday, August 18, 2016

How many WHENS ARE

How many WHENS ARE
there in this TIME?
WHERE Do they reside on
my drive? Seems like
A good use of space
But can we proceed as
planned with our pickle
in the envelope pushed
AND this TIMe is only
as good as it gets
while forever is only
as long as it lasts.

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Time has a firm grip

Time has a firm grip

and a strong handshake

it calls the past - what

has happened remains with

us for many conclusions with

few rewards but many hours

of enjoyment if your brain

has a fertile hold on skill

and concept - what once

was is only revoked in

the original reality it was

assembled within - the

delay sequence varies, but the

details can and often do get

edited depending on your

circumstances, recall ability

or belief system. Some may

challenge this against you

should passion come into

play or other factors without

regard to solemn script or

construct - But do keep in

mind that Time has very

few rules and can break

them as it sees fit when

it deems the program needs

prescription - Time can do

whatever it pleases when

it structures memory past.

Friday, August 12, 2016

my guitars laugh at me

my guitars laugh at me
they stare at me from across
my room and bury their
sweet songs in my arrested
Time's ego - When I was
a younger man and how they
ridicule my supposed misjudgment
to caress them nightly - How
they once tested my love
of the medium and now
just lament - The strewn
pity of an almost broken
spirit and the dreams not
realized, though kept at a
distance of my own inner
strength and weakness too…

There were some moments -
Time enjoyed and captured by
the imaginations of friends
long gone - pretense of glory
built to withstand the hardness
of life, brief as it was, and
thought to have lasted forever

- we were there, in the bask
of light and smoke of gatherings

- we gave them their fun if
only for fleeting, and we
got it back a hundred fold.

Then all was gone as
if crushed and repackaged
- relined and revived then
more and more just faint
echoes of drowned out fury
until only shadows of smoke
remained and then that was
gone too  -  syncopation dissipation
with other responsibilities brought
to the surface in this sea of
consciousness… As the
guitars laugh at me from across
the room as their wooden bodies
age and grow harder and harder
unlike me…

Saturday, August 6, 2016

Always meant to be

Always meant to be
there on and with AND
in you - WANTED: I saw
the who of it all and then
heard the what of it would
be a blast in my egos pants
but that really was never
the point - my totally
inspired and extremely over-
ACTIVE imagination and inner
minds eye would coalesce
a drop of forever LUST in
the heart of aloneness
sometimes for days on
end without end or beginning
for that matter or anti-matter
- it would drift on my being
to think of you that way -
A fantasy's fantasy in a dream
by day and thoughts explosion
by night - The you of it all
made succulent through
attempted astral projection
- what an alternate reality
that buzz would become

- Alchemy preserve us
from apparent mistakes.

Wednesday, August 3, 2016

my mistress is my thought

my mistress is my thought
Not a plural but one that
continues at length for as
Long as imagination saves
me - This too is pattern
in Time that is absorbed
through the psyche like a
Trusted remedy for the common
cold - And as for the common
Good there is a Need to
keep Laughter AND High Spirits
out in front of your
plan to stay Alive and to
feel the need to hold ALL
Fear in it's well of despair. // <