What did you expect?
Wisp mystical lioness
Serrations embedded they tear me to shreds
As flesh of my flesh falls, dissolves into nothingness
Bereft of condolence and scrambling for safety
What did you expect?
Her ‘acte gratuit’
Leaves me sprawled on the lawn sipping stout in the sun
A murmured conspiracy gripped melodramatically
Around my taut throat and the age of my whispers
What did you expect?
Manipulates my lips
I search for the answers to conjure – none there
Discarded of all but my heart’s newest tumult
Voluptuous intoxicants filling the air
What did you expect?
Proud venomous flower
The fruit of your petals entice me to stay
Then slowly envelope my connubial quandary
And stab at my soul till my wings fall away
What did you expect?
Tenacious played chokehold
Mocking my voice as it struggles for sound
Of all the calypso silk sirens to tempt me
The one I most covet wraps her sea in dark bulwark
What did you expect?
Luxuriant moonlight
O the fathoms you go just to drink from my carnage
Left naked to brace the intense cast of shadows
Of all that was lost in the hush of despondence
What did you expect?
Asks divinity’s madness
A rucksack of pain lets one know they’re alive
But what of the ashes that once were my passions?
I question, but silence again the distraction
What did you expect?
Undressed innocence
Factitious caresses immorally glean
Emancipate me from the finger of tyrants
Who fondle my ailments and sully my name
What did you expect?
Emotional outpour
Can never take back the lone fact – I’m alone
But of all the felled giants I’ve slain in a lifetime
The beans in my pocket still wait to be sewn
What did I expect?
The friends I have suffered
And some I’ve been proud to have called me their friend
Their mystery, like fireflies, shown flickered in twilight
Yet much can be learned from the books that they lend.
Friday, 29 May 2009
Sunday, 10 May 2009
North Wind Cloudy
Inner scope, the stench of scheme
The non-descript anomaly
Canvassed in laden boots a peg
A civilization put to bed
Co lesion plaice adrift and so
The hemorrhage of said Volga flows
Passed birds that twitter in the trees
The pleas from fleas on fur bent knees
White splash of Berezniki sun
Creeps through the clouds shone down on tenement
Relaxing in a café set
Upon the banks of Kama River
She carefully cuts her BLT
While I sit slowly sipping coffee
The lack of central thought reminds me
Of a spoken line from Chekov
Upon his deathbed drank champagne
Then sat abrupt and declared “Ich sterbe”
“I am dying” can’t you see?
Deliberating aimlessly
Her touch caressed my silhouette
A touch I will not soon forget
Solar embrace on the wall of brick building
Young hearts wild with passion in provisional swing
How long can I go on existing like this?
No worries, no cares, none considerations
Basking in grace and her ravenous beauty
Disappear in Perm Krai on the lam like Wel Kees
Under brisk skies blow the blankets of grey
I keep thinking I can’t maintain living this way
Watch these mice on parade, see them tarry to/fro
She presents me with questions to answers she knows
A suffering animal that cannot be still
We stroll through botanical gardens at will
These pigeons, what queer birds! How awkward they run!
Fighting ever so fiercely over a stale hot dog bun
A rugby game scrum of mechanical fowl
Heads bobbing peck frenzied bumping bird brains endowed
Eyes that ne’er move as they jockey, who won?
Certainly not this poor crumb that was once a full bun!
Cross the pond London burns, Paris steams on grand dreams
Washed upon Holland’s shore breaks the Führer’s lost war
In Gammeltorv, there completely unaware
I could swear that these cares have appeared from nowhere
A moment or so more or less long ago
The true anarchist holds to social overthrow
Libertarian socialism (shhh, keep your voice low)
Comes and goes, it just shows what we want we don't know
Bend no more to the fist, give the king’s ring a kiss
As the eyes of madness slowly rise from the midst
Escape northward to Russia and the red setting sun
Recall fond the ideals of Bolshevik Revolution
Moscow/Petrograd workers strike together as one
Seek in earnest to retrace the steps of V. Lenin
Taking cues from his pamphlet ‘What Is To Be Done?’
“I am not your brother, I am not your son, when I'm no one it's then I become everyone.”
The non-descript anomaly
Canvassed in laden boots a peg
A civilization put to bed
Co lesion plaice adrift and so
The hemorrhage of said Volga flows
Passed birds that twitter in the trees
The pleas from fleas on fur bent knees
White splash of Berezniki sun
Creeps through the clouds shone down on tenement
Relaxing in a café set
Upon the banks of Kama River
She carefully cuts her BLT
While I sit slowly sipping coffee
The lack of central thought reminds me
Of a spoken line from Chekov
Upon his deathbed drank champagne
Then sat abrupt and declared “Ich sterbe”
“I am dying” can’t you see?
Deliberating aimlessly
Her touch caressed my silhouette
A touch I will not soon forget
Solar embrace on the wall of brick building
Young hearts wild with passion in provisional swing
How long can I go on existing like this?
No worries, no cares, none considerations
Basking in grace and her ravenous beauty
Disappear in Perm Krai on the lam like Wel Kees
Under brisk skies blow the blankets of grey
I keep thinking I can’t maintain living this way
Watch these mice on parade, see them tarry to/fro
She presents me with questions to answers she knows
A suffering animal that cannot be still
We stroll through botanical gardens at will
These pigeons, what queer birds! How awkward they run!
Fighting ever so fiercely over a stale hot dog bun
A rugby game scrum of mechanical fowl
Heads bobbing peck frenzied bumping bird brains endowed
Eyes that ne’er move as they jockey, who won?
Certainly not this poor crumb that was once a full bun!
Cross the pond London burns, Paris steams on grand dreams
Washed upon Holland’s shore breaks the Führer’s lost war
In Gammeltorv, there completely unaware
I could swear that these cares have appeared from nowhere
A moment or so more or less long ago
The true anarchist holds to social overthrow
Libertarian socialism (shhh, keep your voice low)
Comes and goes, it just shows what we want we don't know
Bend no more to the fist, give the king’s ring a kiss
As the eyes of madness slowly rise from the midst
Escape northward to Russia and the red setting sun
Recall fond the ideals of Bolshevik Revolution
Moscow/Petrograd workers strike together as one
Seek in earnest to retrace the steps of V. Lenin
Taking cues from his pamphlet ‘What Is To Be Done?’
“I am not your brother, I am not your son, when I'm no one it's then I become everyone.”
Friday, 8 May 2009
From Mackinac Back Home Again
Leave me here on island splendor
Never heard or seen again
Washed away in pristine waters
Huron’s stone thrown shores contend
Evening summer rain restrained
Just long enough to run for cover
Recline on porch - Chateau Loraine
With yours and mine and flask of wine
Salty seagulls, guilty geese
The horse drawn streets that offer peace
Majestic in the setting sun
Mac Bridge which spans the Great Divide
Posh dinner at the Carriage House
Where duck is served with strawberries
Then stagger home for good night’s sleep
The daybreak harkens frequent ferries
Aboard belies in back once more
The lure of clean, crisp, rippling shores
Beyond lies U.P. sanctuary
Within the bosom of her bays
Respect to those who lost their lives
Off Whitefish Point and came to rest
At bottom graveyard cold and still
The guardians of Great Lake swells
Superior along the coast
Her beauty calls to have a swim
No hesitation, jump right in
She’s claimed so many souls that way
A rainy stay in old Marquette
The Slipper’s largest, college town
Her better days now long behind
Reminds me of my home - Muskegon
A shot across the starboard bow
We travel west across Wisconsin
And enter long lost Minnesota
Ten thousand lake sung lullabies
South of St. Paul sits Mankato
We cool our heels and sit a spell
The locals argue when we ask
“Pray tell, how far due west is Sioux Falls?”
Quaint, quiet towns along the way
Tyler, New Ulm, Sleepy Eye
Of course we stop in Walnut Grove
Pay homage to the writer Wilder
Near border ‘tween the two great states
There lies a Native pipestone quarry
Red rocks and greens of grasslands fair
These sights bewildering, awe inspiring
Across state lines lies Devil’s Gulch
Where it’s been claimed leapt Jesse James
In order to outrun a mob
The good ones always get away
Parlay in Mitchell, South Dakota
A diamond in the rough we find
Exquisite dining at Chef Louie
The best walleye I’ve ever had
Waltz through the curious Corn Palace
Impressed by color-altered maize
Reds and blues and pinks and greens
Like rainbow schemes in farmer dreams
Down Highway 90 - what a thrill!
Such specks I never knew existed
Blink once to find they’re no mirage
Blink twice to find they’re gone forever
And just when we can take no more
Of prairie fields and miles of nothing
A bantam hint of rock formation
The Badlands on the calm horizon
Dried riverbed of soil deposit
Volcanic ash and sandstone clay
How bizarre and fascinating
This lay of nature’s wonder walls
And bison! Yes! I’ve seen them there!
Carousing on the plains they graze
As hotly tempered prairie dogs
Debate in high-pitched conversation
No trip out west would be complete
Without a trip to tiny Wall
The town made famous for its drug store
Hides the best secret of all
On Main Street sits Cactus Café
Where dark beer drafts are freely poured
The waitress makes me feel a fool
Informing me they call it Moose Drool
Continue passed towns built on ashes
Great warriors who fought and died
I’ve never heard the scream of land
So loud as I did passing Pine Ridge
The poverty round Wounded Knee
It made me weep such useless tears
The Ghost Dance practiced long ago
Still calls to spirits in the hot wind
Onward steaming round the bend
Toward towns with population - ten
Pink granite sculptures loom above
In sweltered heat and hot baked car seats
Solemn faces blankly stare
Out cracked and dusty café windows
Their silent voices seem to say
“We’ve waited here a thousand years”
Eleven miles southwest of Hot Springs
A soothing gem called Cascade Falls
Down the grassy bank we run
And jump into her cool jeweled pool
Our last planned stand in Coyote State
Is in the sleepy town of Custer
Where on the backs of CRAZY HORSEs
We MOUNT up RUSHing MORE toward glory
Hiking in the Black Hills forest
Held church on reverent bluffs that touched
The endless, skyward face of God
Stretched further than the eye could fathom
Returning east on Highway 20
Gun passed Nebraska’s rolling dunes
And sleep inside Sioux City limits
The freight train sings at 4 a.m.
Awake and make tracks for Dubuque
Where there we seek the muddy river
Downtown we dine at Main 180
Fin tuna steaks and Fat Tire beer
Steam down the mighty Mississippi
Oh Twain, you devil, you knew best!
The steamboat’s paddle splash reminds me
Why your soul chose here to rest
Riverbanks turn into fields
Gold waves of grain that yearn for rain
The sun beats amber on the pavement
Full throttle toward sweet home Chicago
Alive with pulsing, city heartbeat
Pumping life into our veins
The sounds of downtown all around
Seductive windy coastline sparkles
The setting skyline reveals it’s time
That we in fact must head on back
To Michigan - the Lonesome Mitten
With our bags packed, we board the Amtrak
Rolling through the same small towns
I’m sure we passed when we were west
So many miles, so little time
But that’s the way it goes, I guess
Awakened by my own convictions
Was it real or just a dream?
I wage a struggle in my mind
And fight against my cynicism
Compared to my own countrymen
I claim "I’ll never be like them!"
And just when I feel most distinct
I’m more like them than what I think.
Never heard or seen again
Washed away in pristine waters
Huron’s stone thrown shores contend
Evening summer rain restrained
Just long enough to run for cover
Recline on porch - Chateau Loraine
With yours and mine and flask of wine
Salty seagulls, guilty geese
The horse drawn streets that offer peace
Majestic in the setting sun
Mac Bridge which spans the Great Divide
Posh dinner at the Carriage House
Where duck is served with strawberries
Then stagger home for good night’s sleep
The daybreak harkens frequent ferries
Aboard belies in back once more
The lure of clean, crisp, rippling shores
Beyond lies U.P. sanctuary
Within the bosom of her bays
Respect to those who lost their lives
Off Whitefish Point and came to rest
At bottom graveyard cold and still
The guardians of Great Lake swells
Superior along the coast
Her beauty calls to have a swim
No hesitation, jump right in
She’s claimed so many souls that way
A rainy stay in old Marquette
The Slipper’s largest, college town
Her better days now long behind
Reminds me of my home - Muskegon
A shot across the starboard bow
We travel west across Wisconsin
And enter long lost Minnesota
Ten thousand lake sung lullabies
South of St. Paul sits Mankato
We cool our heels and sit a spell
The locals argue when we ask
“Pray tell, how far due west is Sioux Falls?”
Quaint, quiet towns along the way
Tyler, New Ulm, Sleepy Eye
Of course we stop in Walnut Grove
Pay homage to the writer Wilder
Near border ‘tween the two great states
There lies a Native pipestone quarry
Red rocks and greens of grasslands fair
These sights bewildering, awe inspiring
Across state lines lies Devil’s Gulch
Where it’s been claimed leapt Jesse James
In order to outrun a mob
The good ones always get away
Parlay in Mitchell, South Dakota
A diamond in the rough we find
Exquisite dining at Chef Louie
The best walleye I’ve ever had
Waltz through the curious Corn Palace
Impressed by color-altered maize
Reds and blues and pinks and greens
Like rainbow schemes in farmer dreams
Down Highway 90 - what a thrill!
Such specks I never knew existed
Blink once to find they’re no mirage
Blink twice to find they’re gone forever
And just when we can take no more
Of prairie fields and miles of nothing
A bantam hint of rock formation
The Badlands on the calm horizon
Dried riverbed of soil deposit
Volcanic ash and sandstone clay
How bizarre and fascinating
This lay of nature’s wonder walls
And bison! Yes! I’ve seen them there!
Carousing on the plains they graze
As hotly tempered prairie dogs
Debate in high-pitched conversation
No trip out west would be complete
Without a trip to tiny Wall
The town made famous for its drug store
Hides the best secret of all
On Main Street sits Cactus Café
Where dark beer drafts are freely poured
The waitress makes me feel a fool
Informing me they call it Moose Drool
Continue passed towns built on ashes
Great warriors who fought and died
I’ve never heard the scream of land
So loud as I did passing Pine Ridge
The poverty round Wounded Knee
It made me weep such useless tears
The Ghost Dance practiced long ago
Still calls to spirits in the hot wind
Onward steaming round the bend
Toward towns with population - ten
Pink granite sculptures loom above
In sweltered heat and hot baked car seats
Solemn faces blankly stare
Out cracked and dusty café windows
Their silent voices seem to say
“We’ve waited here a thousand years”
Eleven miles southwest of Hot Springs
A soothing gem called Cascade Falls
Down the grassy bank we run
And jump into her cool jeweled pool
Our last planned stand in Coyote State
Is in the sleepy town of Custer
Where on the backs of CRAZY HORSEs
We MOUNT up RUSHing MORE toward glory
Hiking in the Black Hills forest
Held church on reverent bluffs that touched
The endless, skyward face of God
Stretched further than the eye could fathom
Returning east on Highway 20
Gun passed Nebraska’s rolling dunes
And sleep inside Sioux City limits
The freight train sings at 4 a.m.
Awake and make tracks for Dubuque
Where there we seek the muddy river
Downtown we dine at Main 180
Fin tuna steaks and Fat Tire beer
Steam down the mighty Mississippi
Oh Twain, you devil, you knew best!
The steamboat’s paddle splash reminds me
Why your soul chose here to rest
Riverbanks turn into fields
Gold waves of grain that yearn for rain
The sun beats amber on the pavement
Full throttle toward sweet home Chicago
Alive with pulsing, city heartbeat
Pumping life into our veins
The sounds of downtown all around
Seductive windy coastline sparkles
The setting skyline reveals it’s time
That we in fact must head on back
To Michigan - the Lonesome Mitten
With our bags packed, we board the Amtrak
Rolling through the same small towns
I’m sure we passed when we were west
So many miles, so little time
But that’s the way it goes, I guess
Awakened by my own convictions
Was it real or just a dream?
I wage a struggle in my mind
And fight against my cynicism
Compared to my own countrymen
I claim "I’ll never be like them!"
And just when I feel most distinct
I’m more like them than what I think.
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Can You Tell Her?
Can you tell her that steady on steady she goes?
Can you tell her that memories are mind passing windows?
Can you tell her that all I have suffered I’ve gained?
Another finality Tragedy’s claimed
Can you tell her that magic is real to the eyes?
But the hand that moves quicker is somewhat disguised
Can you tell her that cold hearts, if not warmed, will freeze?
And that love works its best when it’s bent on its knees
Can you tell her that senses are heightened at dusk?
And at dawn when the scent of sweet dewdrops combust
Can you tell her forever is only a song?
And the duet of beauty and youth won’t last long
Can you tell her that dancing feels right in the rain?
And a chat over wine with a friend can ease pain
That ‘Belleza Eterna’ are the mountains of Spain
And that paradise lost can be found where it lay
Can you tell her it’s time that she let it all go?
Like the skies of December shed blankets of snow
Can you tell her regret is a waste of her time?
And that hurting is part of the healing divine
Can you tell her I’ve moved on and please not to worry?
It is simply her smile that has left my eyes blurry
Can you tell her she no longer has to pretend?
That I finally forgive her for all that has happened
Can you tell her I hope that one day she will find
A love that is patient, unfailing, and kind?
Can you tell her my soul will forever reside?
Clandestine in veiled shadow near by her side
Can you tell her I loved her with breath I knew not?
But perhaps this whole poem is best left forgot
As the sting of the blade through my wrist severs blame
I lay back in the tub feeling utterly drained.
Can you tell her that memories are mind passing windows?
Can you tell her that all I have suffered I’ve gained?
Another finality Tragedy’s claimed
Can you tell her that magic is real to the eyes?
But the hand that moves quicker is somewhat disguised
Can you tell her that cold hearts, if not warmed, will freeze?
And that love works its best when it’s bent on its knees
Can you tell her that senses are heightened at dusk?
And at dawn when the scent of sweet dewdrops combust
Can you tell her forever is only a song?
And the duet of beauty and youth won’t last long
Can you tell her that dancing feels right in the rain?
And a chat over wine with a friend can ease pain
That ‘Belleza Eterna’ are the mountains of Spain
And that paradise lost can be found where it lay
Can you tell her it’s time that she let it all go?
Like the skies of December shed blankets of snow
Can you tell her regret is a waste of her time?
And that hurting is part of the healing divine
Can you tell her I’ve moved on and please not to worry?
It is simply her smile that has left my eyes blurry
Can you tell her she no longer has to pretend?
That I finally forgive her for all that has happened
Can you tell her I hope that one day she will find
A love that is patient, unfailing, and kind?
Can you tell her my soul will forever reside?
Clandestine in veiled shadow near by her side
Can you tell her I loved her with breath I knew not?
But perhaps this whole poem is best left forgot
As the sting of the blade through my wrist severs blame
I lay back in the tub feeling utterly drained.
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