throw life
at the wall
see what sticks
what monsters slither
leathery and ugly
how gambling is measured
ruggedly scary and monstrously tall
who do you call
some hell dogs
so boundaries and tethers
sanity can be customized
humanity is consuming and shopping
self serving and itemized
something always hoping
flickering candles in the wind
just be good and kind
those things we do
those things that stick
somethings true
sometimes a trick
those four walls
keeping us in the dark
we stumble and fall
feel the earth rumble
admission of those vain sins
while the sky keeps telling lies
still the heart of the world bleeds
gods and even aliens must die
eventually it all comes down
words and feelings apply
communication breakdown
redemption and condemnation
sticky things
often life's rude reply
basically nature
is it sunlight
we seek
or actual starlight
integrally either is right
being blinded
by the light
catchy either way
still we're flesh and blood
day and night
finding breath and need
if we tossed thought
against a pretentious wall
unrehearsed what would stick
something stuck in my brain
maybe crazy and insane
maybe vanity and profane
perhaps patience and compassion
clearly some understanding
finding hopeful sanity
truth finally
that spiritual moment
waking in heaven
wondering what went right and wrong
was it snake eyes or lucky seven
those numerous thoughtful things
sliding down a quavering wall
wagering whether we rise or fall
so this sticky heaven
come quivering one
come sticky all

               * * *

 

 

purge me
so vain
I see
everything
different now
light
turgid itself
rearranged
deep within
my psycho brain
rain drops
dashing away
every strange image
hurt into play
every mountain range thought
relinquished from my fatted brain
emerge anew
resilient
all that silence
true resilience
distance merely means
far away
so I can't
touch you
yet I feel
urgent it seems
purge with me
this soft vanity
I see
sweet urgency
purging
everything
that once
was you
and me

      * * *

 

I sat
this old fellow
quite quiet
still waiting
still beside
that same
old woman
pondering right
at the edge
of what was
good and left
of that
same
old river
watching desert
water
now merely
measured
as a melancholy
trickle
where pleasure
and lovers
together
once watched
love's tender
touch
water's mindful
rush
still love
wells up
with tears
fellow streams
in both
our aging
eyes
and in
our ghetto
hearts
mellow
pulling strings
so we
ultimately remain
anchored
and alone
still a bank
of frank love
and that
old woman
spelling
and calling out
history
and old love
still an ocean
of tears
motion
in our souls
and crying
eyes
and in
our emotional
hearts
love pulls
and tries
irrationally disguised
by hopes
and prayers
so many fears
making tearful
love
compose
sweetheart aires
recite
heartfelt poems
that only
sometimes
risk a kiss
seldom decide
or commit
to rhyme
mirror something
that is
joy and bliss
something
that is yours and mine

            * * * 

 

in the cave
cool damp exists
God save us
every viral plague and storm
what can God resist
that raging sun
should life cease and desist
a cagey norm
no matter how fast
we fly and run
in the cave
resist complaint
sample temporal cool
just for fun
nothing is ever new
under God's sage sun
everything and everyone
sophisticated fools with sophisticated tools
binding and blinding us anew
a spartan moon with a blazing sun

                      * * *

 

I tried to wake up
but everything seemed made up
relevance appeared frayed and obscure
I tried to deliberate and speak
but my parchment mouth
was full of symbols and wretched dust
atonement burned like fire on the tip of my tongue
I tried to knead all my fermenting words
but my half baked mouth
was jammed with coarse ash and raw syllables
I tried to straighten up and think
but my frittered mind
was verb and plum empty
storied communion juiced and squeezed
my blazing frontal lobes
disorienting my parsley being
I tried to metaphysically move
but my ornamental body
stood rigid and forlorn
I tried a lion pose hoping to finally sleep
but my wooden eyes
could never open or shut
I tried to smother my incense dreams
but my insensitive and clouded brain
would only smolder and blunder
I tried thunder and dance
but all my words are broken
chants unsung and so much poetry still unspoken
I tried to play earthly music
but my left hand ran off with all my art and virtues
my invalid right feeling crippled and veritably lost
I've tried to inhale life and sacred breath
but my veritable soul
chokes on unabridged reality
I've tried to protest impertinent love
but my fidgeting spirit
mocks my freedom and fidelity

                       * * *

 

in a hurricane
all the surety of fruit
gets furiously blown off the tree
bruised fruit for everyone including you and me
in a hurricane
so many big branches are broken
life flushed away by rushing rivers and streams
tormented hours all of them crawling with nightmares
followed by the worst night terror dreams
in a hurricane
revered and majestic old trees
get uprooted so damn fast
falling while recalling chapters
of storms they survived in their ancient past
in a hurricane
power lines and transformers
are violently tossed to the ground
so millions sit dejected
in transformative dark
while conjecture wonders
about the pitiable things
lost and left in the poor park
in a hurricane
the insanely raging wind
wants to tear your roof and head off
crazy low pressure dictating
each execution from its ocean trough
in a hurricane
the magnificently hysterical sea
wants to tragically flood
every tangled beach and mangled harbour
a deep froth of chill and seawater
salting every garden and coastal arbor
in a hurricane
angry gales blowing torrential rain
want to show-off and quickly fill
every empty pool and low lying basement
nature and the storm gods defiling this changing world
rendering its destiny with such wicked displacement
in a hurricane
falling on our knees
everyone praying for less wind and rain easement
doesn't mean insanity is repressive or even vain
hurried along by a hurricane's impressive defacement
a finger of God creating this oppressive chastisement
in a hurricane
the world seems a different place
so much pounding wind  
driving rain into everyone's face
cowering from the obsessive storm
is not a show of cowardice or a disgrace
God only wishes all eyes open
all hearts wide open
for the whole human race

 

I heard the Queen died
all week
there has been news
heralding this Queen
a country Monarch
I've only known
during feral life
my waking views
but I'm just
a speaking bug
clinging to
imperiled rock and mossy arch
alive with life's
sugar and starch
yet my medicine mouth
growing turkey tail and bracket fungi
unlike my woolly worm and moth eaten life
void of royal jelly
no jewels and crowns
no bee's wax
every thing an absence
my carpenter ant castle
void of ant hill farms
no studs or gems or thrones
reflection from
my earthly hallelujah realm
mountains of review
but glaciers and sacred shorelines
spiritual canyons
ritually change
and the virtual Queen
is dead
shall we
metamorphose too
spin a sacred chrysalis
rich silk and virtue
one virtuous and holy day
emerge again
warmed by
our own yearning
under the blessed
burning sun
adorned with sparkling
monarch wings
rising out of the blue
such gentle sky
behold a golden
horn and helm
higher too
platinum jubilee
like repentant kings
civil queens might do
cycles begin anew
that african diamond
each tribal facet
reflecting elephants and lions
a growing indignant tide
an urgent fleuve
flooding its way
across every monarch's land
resurgence of perfect
nature with epic hope
making passionate love
a blasting tsunami
from each deep ocean
let us strive
try to cope
after every
monarch's orgasmic death
nothing can be
centre of the world
for the centre
of the world
reeks of metaphor
flowing molten tin and lead
touching upon unique
brahma and foreboding
entrenched with dig deep
excavating that hidden way
all the way to enlightenment
reach out for reason
touch heaven and the prophetic sky
live questing
pray that you
find perfect stead
so once
in a bug's lifetime
when you hear
the Queen is dead
remember
blessed garden life
always remaining
dear and near
we have to ask
why are majestic birds dying
we have to wonder
why do pilot whales run-a-ground
I heard they were happy
I heard they felt safe
but then the Queen dies
so everything changes
even the sun and the sky
floundering and running-a-ground
even spiders with their perfect webs
failing to catch a fruitful fly
so too imperfect hurricane
choked by brethren cyclone
strangled by raging earthquake
those curios and rampant pitfalls
entrapment and tiger traps
this world's curious viral illness
politics with its raging hormones
whatever should remains the same
still evolution takes over
attuned and in good stead
god's plumage
stuck in every hat and head
your heart and soul
they might
feel the same
still the odd world
goes relatively insane
the Queen is cold and dead
Emperors and Kings remain
but the Queen has died
princely jesters pause to call
reciting a wavering refrain
the Queen is dead
the Queen is dead
God help us all
the Queen is dead
God help us
one and all

           * * *