Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Nothing More





Nothing More



 



1.

 

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.



2.

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.




3.

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.




4.

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.




5.

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.





6.

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.




7.

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. // <