i see i'm going to have to go back and edit some, or remove them, and type them...yuck! one of the many reasons i could never write a book....not a fan of typing! ah well...i'll get it done soon i hope.

ugh! lee...

i hate how it looks, copying and pasting these to the blog...i just have no desire to type much on this mini...besides, i can never resist the urge to do a running edit as i go...often changing the entire "poem"...ya' think everyone that writes "poetry" does that? anyway, here's some new, and some old.

erosion?

Erosion... When the lust wears off, what have you done? Spin your wheels, and dig in, or, turn tail and run? And when love ran out, where did you go? Did you work it out kid? or was it all for show? Even rocks, turn to dust, in the wind and rain... You and i, we've withstood our fair share of pain. Given the chance....to do over again? I'd muck it up, m'dear...'most exactly the same.

angels, indeed!

Angels Indeed!... Flyin' around a corner, playin' a wicked game of chance... Comes a hero, a devil, a man in leather pants. He's driftin' the whip...(as they say in the parlance) Tempting death, for certain, with his suggestive little dance. A pot-hole, a pebble, a teeny patch of sand.. Could send him off, careening, No tellin' where he'd land. On the tangent now, as the car comes correct.. Winks, at the dash mount camera... Wouldn't you just expect? Danger, adrenaline, anger, and riteous brother speed. Converge, in an instant... Filling a gearhead's need. Should he live tonight, to race another day? Or, in living, give it up...and get on his knees and pray? Ne'er shall we know...at least, for a week or so. 'Til race days rolls 'round again. And he feels the urge to GO! Heaven blessed us with horsepower... And these angels... They're all, hell-bound....

uncle jonny's "garden"

Uncle Jonny's garden... Jonny, Uncle Jonny, won't you tell me please.. However on earth, does your garden grow? "With oil...and gas, and a dollop of grease... you ask me child, as though you don't know." Have you, Uncle Jonny, a row of peas? a carrot or two? Nah, kid, sure don't...won't grow, for the weeds. Parsley? nor parsnips? a rutebega, or two? Tellin' ya' kid, the answer's no..but there's a mercury marquis.. Rusting, in the pasture, behind a couple of fords. Take a left, at the comet, between the cottonwood trees... And look for a trailer, piled high with old boards. There, she'll be a wiltin', 'neath the hot august sun. With a spider-web windshield, from some kid with a rock.. But if you want her to drive, i'm quite sure that she'll run. G'on kid, here's the key...open up that lock... Get an idea how you'll feel... Cruisin' down the block. Ain't no veggies, a'growin' here kid, never will, i fear.. Even the cars, don't "green up"...they just sit..and rust...and rot.

a vision (in black and white)

Vision...(in black and white) Manicured nails, drag plaster walls... Singing, their song. As, slowly, she sweeps her way to me.... A ghost, in my hall. Anticipation.....builds, Ankle strapped heels, Linked to hips that sway. Exaggeration, inspiration, excitation... Walk slowly my way. In a polka-dot dress, That clings to every curve. Honestly, I'd be foerever content, Just to observe.... I'm incited, to tie "love me" knots... 'Round every small, alabaster appointment, Near the end of said limbs. All, so shapely, fine, and thin... My mind's eye rewinds it Time, and again..

on the horrors of aging

On the horrors of aging.... I turned a corner, in my life today... Acceptance, or capitulation, some would say.. Admittance, that that which has been with me From the day of my birth, will no longer, grow wild and free.. Tiny, and soft, i started life...much as my parasitic "guests" Now, decades down the line, we've become coarse, thick, and unsightly, though we do our best.. I know, my hatred is one-sided...as i know these evil minions also do good.. Protecting me constantly, from those sicknesses that would.. Slip past a nostril...and make a home, in my lung. Ah, but they also catch boogers..like a bat, from a cave hung... And, were i to shave, passers-by would sound off...ACHTUNG! Saluting the "toothbrush" mustache they would grow o'er my tongue... Norelco..my savior, from nasal hair notariety... Answer my prayer, make me suitable viewing for society. Though i know, you'll cause the shedding of tears... At least i still don't have to use you in my ears!

w.c.

W.C. I wasn't there, when you spake the oath that binds us... No, you came a bit before my time. Wonder, do i...how a man can call himself such, With at most, an absentee conscience. And at least, a disdain for all that is not himself. Crawl back! to that rotting dank hole from whence you came. Or, shall i, crawl back to mine? Could this be hatred? these gnawing intestines? This cringe, at the screech of your voice? The crawl of my skin, at your mere presence? Dylan said.."you've got a lot of nerve, to say you are my friend." Never, have i felt it to be more true, than as applied to thee. Not that you've done ill particular to me.... Still...your account will come due. And it's my place to call in the chit. For once, i'll relish, not regret, my responsibility. To amend transgressions against those you would enjoin.."call me brother"... May you take your leave with no more friends than self-pity, and loneliness at your side. As you deserve...so you shall receive.... My pity, you have used up, much as the principles you've used for bum fodder.. The very thought of you, enjoins me to pray for the existence of hell.... And the thought of you burning there, admittedly...causes my heart to swell. If indeed it doth exist, dwell you there, evermore, you deceiver, and patron of evil in all it's forms. I will not send you to the locale of such torment... Nor, be lastingly infected with the hatred you foment. Look to me liar...narcissist...braggart...demon, cheat...adulterer, betrayer, purveyor of wares of the beast.. I solemnly point to the course of your descent.

i will

I Will Worry not, love..who'll tend to your infirmity. Neither would I have you feel the slightest twinge of guilt. So much of you, is woven into my being. That i can't not attempt to return your love Every single drop. Should that well run dry...as if it ever could I will sacrifice my wealth, my health, my very life If only it would help. If you're forced to leave me..my salty song of loneliness will seep... From every pore, and every duct...even as i sleep. My world will flood, and feel your wet worth. Your kindness, and sweet voice, will echo evermore.. In fact, it always has.... Lament, at your leaving, will only ever be eclipsed By my joy, in knowing you, loving you, through all of this Our journey through this temporal plane. Sweetened, by your presence... Hallowed, by your name. When your head, and heart grow weary, Know this...I'll hold you up... Stay, love...I'll steadfast, keep your side.. Stay love...I will always be your child Stay, love...for one more day....every day.... This day...

invisible's ode

Invisible's Ode engage my mind....write to me about love, heartbreak, and the passage of time. tell me how the big blue laps at distant shores.. and just what that means, to me, and you. write to me, babbling brook you are... and wear down the stones, of who we think we are. your voice has been absent, all too long. even as your words echo in my head like some ancient psalm.... tell me how your tears nourish the earth and coax the grass to grow... as though you'd given them birth write to me, dear friend... inspire my own pen. tell me of broken dreams, and i'll tell you how the raven sings yet doesn't make a sound and that my ears fall deaf, when you're not around

isn't it odd?

Isn't it Odd? politics wither on the vine, pallid pods, lost in time noses wrinkle, and eyes squint, laughter dances on the line... misgivings rarely surface anymore...joy can be heard in a voice yet, we still cling to the notion that we have a choice is it fate? sends our once strong arguments to shallow grave? or, human nature, inherent temptation...makes us mis-behave? i can imagine us both, scoffing in turn, at our lack of conviction... sleeping guards at the wall, court marshalled for deriliction. would we believe in? consummate? mutual benediction? and collapse resplendent, in a heap of sated friction? Or, as we always have….bide our time awaiting interdiction?

dark

Dark Oozing black, oil slick soul.. Colors everything i know. Fleeting glee, fleeing me... All is dark, all i see. I know of no divine purpose No grand scheme. I carry on for naught... I carry on, for naught....

someday

"all in good time" i heard him say... and i believed....that life was long. so, i told myself, "someday" and shined it on... now, as my body begins to fail, i've left so much undone. there's too much, and too many, my eyes have never seen. and i feel the long shadow of time, sneaking up behind.... i run. no avail, against my setting sun. i'm filled with a yearning, for the paths i never took. give me a step, a sidelong glance.... a long, loving look. there's a me out there that never was, maybe you're out there, down one of those roads.. waiting..... open heart, open arms, open eyes, for the me, that could have been. to be the yang to your yin.. i bought the lie, of "plenty of time" and i've naught to show, save banal regrets... and still, i waste the hours, like i've any to spare.. as i spin my neurotic tale... as though anyone cares..

nine'y weight

i smell like...niney-weight, an gas-o-line.. high-test, not that 85 octine.. i was born'n the back seat of a '40 ford an' if i go to heaven, they better have hot-rods lord... 'else i reckon i'll stay behind, a little past my time for a last drag race, and a fruit jar o' shine... had a wrench in my pocket, an' grease under my nail 's far back as i 'member, 'cept that one week in jail... i'm a fast drivin' country boy, ain't much more to it… an’ if it’s a dang ol’ met-ro-sexual purty smellin’ man yer wit’ ya’ sure won’t like me, go on, now git!

drop-top catalina

Drop-Top Catalina I can see you there.... In my old, drop-top catalina. Wind fanning the flames that are your hair... Paper-thin summer dress, hiked-up to "just where" Loosely flapping in the breeze, And at once, clinging to your breast. Your beautiful bare foot, tapping time... Tiny toes, dancing on a stage of glass. And the other, planted, firmly, Pushes against the dash. Silken-shaved legs, Distract, from the radio's blare As i catch my own reflection, In your mirrored stare. The unforgiving desert sun beats down And only the wind we conjure, provides relief. (Even then, only at highway speed!) There is no place i'd rather be, Than shimmering, tiny, in your reflective stare... In that drop-top catalina, I love you there....

flirtation

Flirtation… when i see you, i can't.... not..... touch... everything about you, draws me near. proverbial, moth to the flame... hypnotized....mesmerized where is it i, can lay blame? these, cursed wings, they don't beat alone i can feel you flutter... in 4/4 time, across a hundred feet i don't own and i know, you sense mine. it's reason enough to run... far, and fast away it's implicit... i get it..really, i do... seems to me, i'm complicit you just beat me to the gun. still, we circle back, to that same, familiar place magnetism au fait... our means, to a banal complaint. will this dance ever end? .....consummate? or flounder, and flail should e'er we take the bait? sweet highs, as i'm sure you've heard, turn to sugar lows.... as resentment, takes root... feeds itself, and grows. could it be, that the flirt is the highest point of the arc? then, tumble we shall, from our momentary grace... back into the swill... back to the mind-numbing chill... ask yourself, "who'll take the chance?" i will....

90 mile an hour zen

Zen Unlikely find, 90 mile an hour zen.. Pipes crack! amidst rumbling wind Drowning the cacaphony of the voices within.. Koan's come and go, with no warning of when The harmonic pulse of the motor drones Becoming the ever-elusive sound of om Clearing my thoughts, removing the doubt However carefully placed, by vioces without Mobile meditation vs. stationary sin Come spring, and sunshine, and childlike grin Let me ride, and rise, above the din Let me find, my 90 mile an hour zen