Dimension

Throughout the hierarchy we're seeing
there's more than conjectured to being
as endless enigmas defy
empirical efforts to pry
the shiniest gem stone worth freeing

but still the apostles keep preaching
that data's the dogma worth teaching
despite the inscrutable height
divinity dazzles with light
that places the crown beyond reaching.

Vehicle

I want you to feel breathless
like you just faced something dire
I want your cardboard conscience
to ignite itself on fire
I want your heart to hammer
as it never beat before
I wish my words could do all this
and make you beg for more.

I want your mind to whisper
secret nothings to your soul
I'd love to see the fractured
feeling closer to the whole
you must recoup the innocence
you prematurely shed
I wish my words could do this too
and make you glad you read.

I want the salve of freedom
to relieve your shackle burns
I want your questing spirit
to seek unexpected turns
upon the path that few have trod
just waiting for some wear
I wish my words could pick you up
and somehow take you there.

Declination

I'm expected to attend
a function tough to duck
despite the fact I'm really not enthused
and though I surely wend
my way down, with any luck
I may postpone what cannot be refused.

In the Black

The moon was like a beacon
at the edge of the unknown
the clouds, a seeming mountain
of ethereal vapor blown

by winter winds so bitter
that I longed for my warm bed
but I am not a quitter
so I faced the night instead

and marveled at the vista
that unfolded in the sky
which made me slightly wistful
that soon it would blow by

my kingdom coated silver
by a single pitted coin
the ticking thief will pilfer
perpetually purloin.

Vermin

The galaxies are entities
that's why they're all unique
we can't perceive perplexities
our eyes are just too weak
the faculties of mindless fleas
that find a way to eke
a living on the very brink
of learning how to truly think
by gorging on the blood we drink
from titans that don't even blink.

Prologue

Is it wise to acknowledge things that just are
or a feat to stay coherent
the price you pay for every fresh scar
is lividly apparent

through scribbled lines you're moved to scrawl
upon a dated blotter
the prattle that precedes the fall
like flux before the solder.

Sappy

We gather with love round a blinking tree
to practice our traditional exchange
of packaged presents, ripped open with glee,
and heartfelt hugs of kinship. We arrange
ourselves to see each others faces well,
to fully savor the joy our gifts bring,
when little eyeballs adorably swell
as frenzied screams of satisfaction ring.
Prismatic lights bedazzle those that view
reflections in the ornamental glass
through which the decorations brightly shine
while sentimental assurances brew
like piety throughout a moving mass
or thoughts of home, for which the wayward pine.

Prey

I didn't know back then
how much there was to rue
my youthful eyes bewildered by the light
and now I wonder when
I will (if ever) struggle through
the shadows of regret that hound my sight.

Fruition

Mid the frosty famine December brings,
the gnarly trees denuded by the cold,
a lone survivor tenaciously clings—
determined, it looks flushed, but will not fold;
its flesh a feast of knowledge we once thought
was worth the price projected, so we bought
into the naked lies that we were told

by our burgeoning, adolescent pride.
But who hasn’t bungled when they were young?
Coerced by little whisperings inside
(a snake’s only appendage is its tongue)
we were just too impatient to ignore
the promise of enlightenment in store
which nothing we ingested quite supplied.

As days begin to shorten we are vexed
by unresolved conclusions and regrets,
this rainy winter day leaves me perplexed
but hopeful as the sun serenely sets,
to see this often evanescent fruit
remain so deeply red and resolute
is truly as delicious as it gets.

Apocalyptic Resolution

We’re all still here
though deadlines came and went
I don’t know if I should cheer
or voice my discontent
it was quite a trying year
but I'm not about to vent--
when we think the end is near
we find reasons to repent.

Reign

I hear the drips of water that are splashing in the gutter
unsettled by the misty lies they gutturally mutter
methodical destruction of my confidence is utter

these oracles have prophesied a perilous prediction
that's been a bit corrosive to the core of my conviction
but hopefully we'll all find out it's just a bunch of fiction

for there are many futures we could fabricate depending
on if we stay infatuated with a fiery ending
or whether we precipitate existence worth extending.

Scraps

On certain days there's not a thought
and one can start to feel distraught
unless they saved the overflow
from when they were a dynamo
as any would-be weaver aught
to automatically know

for any crafter learns that rule
and how to utilize the tool
on which the fabric can be fed
when nothing's left to feed the shed
and always keeps an extra spool
to hoard their excess thread.

Standard of Living

We gathered in the church to hear
the little ones sing Christmas songs,
their voices rang out sweet and clear
with innocence so very dear
like angels, here to right our wrongs.

If only we could always be
as those assembled there that night,
removed from the anxiety
that makes it hard for us to see
the purpose that is our birthright,

to raise each generation filled
with knowledge we have learned,
enabling them to truly build
a world where dreams can be fulfilled
and love is all that need be earned.

Due

Each moment is a treasure
to plunder for your pleasure
a trinket to betoken
the wonderment awoken
when precious intuition
accentuates ambition
resulting in a fortune
of which you share a portion.

Saturated

As we lay them down to sleep
I pray the Lord their souls will keep

and still I weep

behind my eyes the teardrops steep
then down my face they slowly creep

and still I weep

there's so much in this life to reap
forsaken for the cruel and cheap

and still I weep

and now we lay them down to sleep
beyond that rift so dark and deep

and still I weep

Outbreak

We knew that in the distance we'd see
some reasons to question what we came to be--
it's deeply disturbing when someone you've slain
with a maggot filled rictus emotes their disdain;
the stench in the village was so blasted thick
that each labored breath made us sure we'd be sick,
the little main street had been recently paved
with the rotting reminders that couldn't be saved
and I shook like an ancient kalashnikov
expecting the strain to just finish us off.
But somehow we lived and joined others as well
rebuilding a world that had turned into hell
removing the corpses so we could commence
to garner some order that maybe made sense,
we held a big council to lay down some rules
intended to silence political fools
while secretly hoping a decade or two
went by before a bureaucracy grew
that spawned the detachment which tends to destroy
benevolent instincts survivors employ
so we, the last remnants of a world in distress
could make a new future that fixes the mess
where love for each other devoid of abuse
was the only contagion we'd choose to produce.

Permit

She floundered for a moment, unaware
that she would be concerned if he should care
then brushed it off and twiddled with her hair
(though she couldn't stop the blush--
attributing her tantalized response
to intoxicating ambiance)
and pleaded with her frantic heart to hush.

He found himself unable to defer
attention to whatever might occur
unless it somehow had to do with her
there was nothing he could do
but hope she gave him a chance to win
her heart (now where should he begin?)
or possibly approval to persue.

No Magic Bullet

I wept for the children today
then numbly knelt down to pray
"Oh Lord", I beseeched
"Can't these monsters be reached
before they horrendously slay?

Why must there be sorrow and pain,
is all of our promise in vain,
can nothing we do
lead people to you
before they accept Satan's reign?"

"My child" said our Savior above
with a voice like the gentlest dove
"The ultimate key
is not begging me
but in your own hearts foster love."

Getting It

I think of all the things I missed
when I was so naive
a virgin that was never kissed
or bothered to believe

with any sense of urgency
that life can be complete
if focusing ferociously
on finishing a feat.

Pop

It's slightly shriveled
that old balloon
the red skin wrinkled
like a giant prune.

She remembers clearly
that summer day
He said so dearly
"Go out and play."

he seemed unsteady
but she had to ask
if he was ready
for a little task

and as a father
he acquiesced
it was really no bother
he weakly confessed,

the orb was inflated
she played on the lawn;
he buckled, deflated
then he was gone.

It's glumly garish
in it's corner nook
but she'll always cherish
that breath he took.

Survive

You can't just keep asking 'Why Me?'
if you wish to continue to be
endeavor to conquer your dreams
you're here for a reason it seems.

Despite the unspeakable crash
that took your two friends in a flash
you've got to stay strong in your heart
of which they will always be part.

Our fate isn't easy to face
with any agreeable grace
but you didn't escape the debris
to keep mournfully asking 'Why Me?'

Naughty

Basking in anothers pain
really isn't too germane
even those that cause a gain
in normal levels of disdain.

Discovery

You are the star
that anchors the constellation
I'm following in search of love
across a vast and daunting sea
that shares no inclination
about the skies above
or when landfall might be
though I can guess how far
those distant temples are

and I can see them now
shimmer in the glare of day
their bronze perfection perched
on luscious hills so firm
one could scarcely stay away
and once the coast is searched
for a qualifying quay
I'll bow while learning how
to consummate our vow.

Out of Place

What makes a lioness mother decide
that she's had enough of her burgeoning pride
then leave them to fend for themselves on the plain
despite their unfitness to ever sustain
advancement that helps them to healthily grow--
how could the giver of life treat them so?
Abandoning cubs to develop their flaws
like over-reliance on menacing claws
too eager to slash at a threat that's perceived
by orphans that never respectfully grieved
for they were too busy accepting the truth:
survival has forced them to forfeit their youth
and promise with which they were rightly imbued
by the vagabond breeder that brokered the brood.

Infrangible

The breadth of one tear-coated lash
is all that separates us
but sometimes we become so far apart
it seems the torch has burned to ash
like love is on hiatus
can you deny my presence in your heart?

A span of twenty-something years
is simply one more moment
for those that find the essence of their soul
we're forced to deal with our own fears
or suffer needless torment
but in the end it's two that make a whole.

Deja Vu

I'm having these dreams of the future
where things are so easy to see
but it's never the type of encounter
that possibly benefits me
like seeing the numbers before they fall
that help me win the Powerball
instead of scenes within the pen
ok, what day is it again?

Impasse

I finally hit the wall
it happens to us all
the question is: will I simply stare at it and bawl

or will I be compelled
(all diffidence dispelled)
to see that sentimental structure stepped around or felled?

Entangled

How can I write different things
that no one else will write
how can I transform mere words to art
perhaps I need to shed the strings
so perilously tight
inhibiting an overflowing heart.

Stigma

I'm sick of all the hate
and those that fail to wait
and all the vicious swipes
of those vindictive types
but to retaliate
would validate their gripes

so should the meek comply
with rules that keep them shy
or should they take a stand
against the vicious brand
and blacken the offending eye
of those that raise their hand?

Signal

We tend to rush around these days
and drive in a distracted daze
assuming everyone observes
the laws while navigating curves
but last night at a traffic light
the sunset was a pure delight
so I beheld the splendid scene
despite the fact I had the green
when suddenly a truck of brown
flew right by never slowing down--
without that pause to watch the sun
my journey could have been all done.

Vanity's Child

How vain need you be
( just ask Jay Z)
to run around screaming "It's all about me!"

The cameras don't lie
but divas will try
to act like they're humble in hopes that you'll buy

their tribute to how
they are so wow
and when they're around the whole world should bow.

Limits

Her hair was white
her beetle was green
and I was seeing red
until that right
allowed my machine
to actually move instead.

Acceptance

Their melancholic framework sags
in filthy threadbare rags
and on their dirty cracking feet
are plastic shopping bags,

they scrounge through trash for scraps to eat
for precious spoiled meat
but on most days they only find
a banquet of defeat

but that's ok, they seldom mind
they're quietly resigned
to living like a leper might
ignored by their own kind

as though they don't exist despite
the amplitude of plight
that you can ease with just a smile
when they are in your sight.

Counteragent

I can see it in his somber eyes:
he didn't get his way and had to face
that life's one giant compromise,
a never ending exercise of grace.
He can't quite understand it yet
but knows without a doubt it's so
for he's found out (to his regret)
the price of telling Mommy no.
My heart just aches to see him sad
and though I know he has to learn
it's hard to watch him struggle through
the maze of knowing good from bad,
but every disappointing turn
is nothing Grampa can't undo.

Take That

It seems my evil scheme has got
a chance of being real,
was pride the impetus to plot?
The wounded fight with zeal!

Fly by Night

The frantic crows
are in the throes
of freedom now that night has come
they swoop and dive
content to thrive
in darkness where they journey from

why must we fear
this time of year
we rule the world (or so we think)
but all those caws
will make you pause
to wonder if we're on the brink.

Mishegaas

The moon looks like a sleepy eye
whose lid is half descended
I'm betting much the same as I
do now that day has ended

I'll go home as I always do
and crawl beneath the covers
to dream of dances in the dew
between forbidden lovers

but since I am a dreamer's son
whose grip is slowly slipping
I hope one day to greet the sun
and find my feet still dripping.

Fecundity

You don't need to be verbose
to say a lot
or think your dreams are close
to take a shot
no measured tune's required
to sing a song
you'll always be inspired
if faith is strong.

Disembodied

The firmament's polluted
from more than one good blast
my foibles firmly rooted
in the fallout of the past

I felt like ore that someone mined
then dropped into a smelter
too dense I guess, and unrefined
to seek sufficient shelter

my veins exposed completely
to be neatly stripped away
then drained most indiscreetly
leaving emptiness today

which makes it truly hard to feel
remorse for lost production
a ghost that haunts the twisted steel
remaining post-destruction.

Indulge

Are you thankful for food
because it fills up your gut
or for those that attend to be fed
a banquet gets chewed
and you're satisfied but
you hunger for hugging instead.

Stolid

And so it goes…
as interest peaks
it also slows

it’s just a fact
that which speaks
will soon retract.

Why get cross?
Return critiques
are no big loss.

Making Bucks

Beneath fluorescent flicker
we banter and we bicker
supporting our survival
through slavery's revival.

Enguard

Unless you learn to deny you'll die
a bit more every dusk
but if you boldly dare to care
you may wind up a husk

for people are so fake and take
until there's nothing left
that wearing your own mask's a task
at which you must be deft.

Moral

The churches are where
the people repair
to pray for some type of salvation
but once it`s begun
there`s nowhere to run
to escape the intense tribulation
if any survive
there`s a chance they can thrive
by finding a new habitation
away from the lies
that caused the demise
of a decadent civilization.

Impression

The slightest sliver of a moon
has clipped the clouds nearby
a giant rosy-barbed harpoon
impales the twilit sky
to cause a wound inopportune
and soon the day will die
while wondering if it left any kind of mark
before, at last, succumbing to the dark.

Substantive

I'm lost within the words
that frame asylum in my mind
away from hapless herds
that are gelatinously spined,

I tumble through the lexicon
of terms akin to 'free'
as marginals impinge upon
a poorly plotted plea--

the subject has to find a way
beyond the structured norm
to still relay what it must say
but never quite conform.

Wanderings

I cried for Jan today
a friend that I have never met
but cherished anyway
a poet on the internet
whose heart was on display
and I'm filled with some regret
that I never got to say
what no existing alphabet
could possibly convey
how admiration lingers yet
as he goes on his way.

Keeping it Clean

Everytime I talk I brush my lip
with bristly hair that needs a proper snip
I wish that grooming wasn't such a chore
but it's better than a beard that sweeps the floor.

Hangups

My smart phone knows more than me
and seems better connected too
perhaps I should just let it live my life
but there are problems
for though it's billed as such
it isn't very mobile
and nowadays we still need
to somewhat get around
and it's also very sensitive
just a bit too touchy
to not get hurt by someone's
calloused digits.

Solitary

You're always quick to smile
though inside not so glib
it took you quite a while
to perfect the perfect fib
so you can feign with style

you view the world with scorn
that few will ever see
rejecting kinship borne
while nodding pleasantly
for fewer deaths to mourn

is less to care about
allowing you your room
without the need to pout
exacerbating gloom
you tow but never tout.

Duty

Please watch your back, you're going to war
there's no politician that's worth dying for
so always be ready for any attack
you're going to war, please watch your back

be stealthy and swift, be ever alert
we pray you will make it without getting hurt
and wend your way here on the first open lift
be ever alert, be stealthy and swift

your sons can't wait to be with their dad
the most important mission you've ever had
so hurry on home, don't hesitate
to be with their dad, your sons can't wait

On The Rocks

Indeed, those trying times were tough
dividing single portions thrice
but we always seemed to have enough

acquiring contentment on the cuff
we never thought about the price
indeed those trying times were tough

for folks that didn't have much stuff
depending on their spirits to suffice
but we always seemed to have enough

to make it through when things were rough
and spurn the tempting wink of vice
indeed those trying times were tough

when living was a constant scuff
and future prospects weren't so nice
but we always seemed to have enough.

When Dad departed grim and gruff
your love turned as cold as your vodka on ice,
indeed those trying times were tough
but we always seemed to have enough.

Can It

It seems the psycho spammer from hell
has pegged me as the prey
and though I don't take stalking well
I guess I have to play

but apparently they're not aware
that Blogger has an app
which keeps the comments people share
devoid of pesky crap.

Fallacious

This season is good for the sneaky
the doors and the floors are less creaky
when summer's humid atmosphere
evaporates for another year
and those that like to lurk then pounce get cheeky.

Bad Taste?

There once was a cook full of hate
for those that liked hash on their plate
and once he was bloated with scorn
The Hash Slingin' Slasher was born.

He didn't mind bacon or ham
and sausage was easy to slam
but hash took him longer to mind
and that always put him behind

The tickets would rapidly build
from people that longed to be filled
while he tried his best to complete
one order for someone to eat

it happened one challenging day
when every seat filled right away
a room full of hash lovers binged
and this is what made him unhinged

He flew from the kitchen enraged
like a beast that refused to be caged
his favorite knife flashed through the air
creating fillets everywhere

which he was reluctant to waste
so he got out his grinder post haste
and made a new special to chew
a mish-mash called Mystery Stew.

Drove

If voting made any difference they wouldn't let us do it - Mark Twain


We're steered there, proud
invoking our voice
(like we get a choice)
constituents cowed

by hoggers of hay
with matching suits
and snotty snoots
that openly prey

on lambs that flock
to polls of straw
the butcher's saw
we meekly stock.

Washed Up

I really hate to be bleak
but I repulsively reek
from fumes of failure and fear
the odious stench of the weak--

I continue to caustically cope
while harboring half-hearted hope
to somehow garnish my gear
with more assertive soap

Estimation

What's worth more:
a mansion on the shore
or pallets of the poor?

The loss of either one means pain
to those that wonder why in vain
for sentiments can't stop the rain

that starts to pour
as we debate galore
what's worth more.

Armistice

I struggle to find the arrangement
of words that could hope to reveal
my shame at the constant estrangement
I seem to be destined to feel
an honest and humble exchange meant
to peacefully end this ordeal
a truce of sorts at last achieved
so all involved can be relieved

and thus I pen this declaration
that details my plan to pursue
a culture of cohabitation
and mutual amity too
without all the intoleration
that hinders respectfulness due
to every creature everywhere
contingent on the choice to care

but the battle deciding this conflict
is not on some far away front
it's deep down inside of this convict
whose sentence is bearing the brunt
of stringent esteems that are so strict
they've steadily managed to stunt
a heart that never quite attained
the strength to keep concern sustained

Original

The first and foremost thing you need?
A fertile plot that you can seed
but do be careful when you sow
to give each object room to grow

for certain species can exceed
the first and foremost thing you need
with gangly offshoots crowding out
the spots where future growth could sprout

and don't get careless with a hoe
you've got to know how far to go
the first and foremost thing you need
would be a truly spotless deed

which grants an uncontested right
to try and nurture something bright
that validates a trademark breed
the first and foremost thing you need.

Dark Wing Radicals

November brings a bonus
besides the threat of snows
that omnipresent onus
the caucus of the crows

allow a rodent access
and it begins to gnaw
while somewhere in the blackness
a murder makes the law

proclaiming without malice
the unforeseen demise
of those that guard the palace
who thought they were so wise.

Incarnate

We've all heard the tales
of the wickedest souls
to ever revile this earth
but their evil pales
compared to the goals
of one who was destined from birth

to murder and maim
with true disregard
for anyone crossing his path
his devious aim
to leave people scarred
and bleeding from murderous wrath

he'll creepily stalk
the alleys at night
with menacing need to be mean
to victims that walk
unmindful of fright
and never again are seen

so if you are out
and strolling around
enjoying a life that's sedate
don't turn about
if you hear a sound
because by then it' s much too late.

Bulrush Boogie

The cattails swing
the cattails sway
who knew cats could dance that way

what smiles they bring
as they rescind
restraint and get down with the wind.

Hellion

Irene's sister Sandy
decided to stop by
and boy is she a dandy
you can see it in her eye
where indicants of darkness swarm
foreshadowing a wicked storm.

Poseurs

A greedy aspen tries to hoard
the last few amber gems
but rigid limbs aren't suited for the task
and with no flashy trinkets left to mask
its flaws, discomfort stems
all showiness, till properly restored

by gold that glistens from the sky
for any staking claims
in hopes that it will multiply their yield
so skeletons can once more be concealed
by ostentatious aims
that haunt the insecure until they die.

Counsel

We weather continuous blows
becoming more calloused each day
until our indifference shows
like scars that a pro would display
so all we can see are the foes
but not the welcoming way
the child within us knows--

and as the deadening grows
we forfeit our faithful resolve
and wallow in worsening woes
refusing to ever involve
ourselves, or remotely suppose
that love makes a person evolve,
but the child within us knows--

so don't let the dungeon doors close
and loosen that untainted heart
forsake your implacable pose
forgiveness is truly an art,
a stanza of the sweetest prose
that ever could impart
what the child within us knows.

Deficit

The banks that bilk
are swathed in silk
while common ilk
get spoiled milk
and all the barren land about
gives credit to the crippling drought

the deed of debt
confers regret
on those that bet
they dodged the net
for no one can escape the need
when everything is gouged by greed.

Crushed

Watching part of you die a slow death
is never that easy to do
you’ll keep insisting there’s plenty of breath
though respiration’s through

you’ll cringe as the organs disintegrate
progressively failing each day
regardless how often you venerate
the god on which you prey

it’s torture when finally facing the facts
and knowing your efforts are moot
a victim of those whose unscrupulous acts
are harder than any heeled boot.

Priming

Like flames cascading down each limb
a golden orange autumn whim
consumes the elm in torrid hues
the palette of a dying muse
that brushes winter off with scorn
for soon the leaves will be reborn.

Do

Lather is easy to coax
when passionate principle soaks
each atom of every last lock
the hand of sincerity strokes

despite detractors that mock
the strength you derive from your rock
which you're confident isn't a hoax
as long as your tresses stay stock.

Low Office

Is arrogance prerequisite
or fake what you need be
to prove that you are full of shit
and earn the White House key?

Congregation

They're back with a vengeance this year
those ebon carousers that ceaselessly caw
in fact that's all you can hear
but why did they reappear
I wonder what's the irresistible draw

and then the anchor clarifies:
a local lily ascends another rung
which must have prompted the reprise
of those that populate the skies
a canon to the saintly loudly sung.

Attraction

The pitiless sun has a rival star
whose influence matches its own it seems
for when I view it, even from afar
the blinding exquisiteness fairly gleams
so let the fusion of your smile and grace
bedazzle all that dare to bravely stare
and feel your winsome warmth upon their face
with gladness for the glamour of your glare.
Perchance your radiance will emanate
unhindered for a reasonable span
before the time for basking is defunct,
we lesser bodies tend to gravitate
around celestial beauty when we can
with hopes that we can somehow be conjunct.

Interior

The cold October rain
reminds me of your pain
and all that you endured while slowly dying
and if I claim to feel
resolved of that ordeal
one look into my eyes reveals I’m lying

refurbishing my cell
I contemplate your hell
as vibrant paint replaces dingy languor
and thankfully I see
your mended spirit free
that keepsake image safe upon its hanger.

God's Gift to Women

You're sure you have the ladies wowed
with all your lame old lies
so unaware how they're endowed
with hearts that compromise.

Marauder

Always on the prowl
for any beast or fowl
beware that chilling howl

that pierces your defense
alerting every sense
misgiving grows immense

it's lurking low and lean
(atrocious hunger keen)
impatient for a spleen

with jaws that splinter bone
and fangs innately prone
to butcher not atone--

so if you hear a growl
or see a lupine scowl
beware that chilling howl.

Backtalk

I wish I could tell you how little I care
though I kind of still need this job
but my last day here I just may dare
to launch this lethal lob—

To all with whom I’ve suffered through
this circus without peer
there’s nothing worse that I could do
than simply leave you here

but since I've got my chance to go
I never will look back
I'll simply say, just so you know
please kiss my hairy crack.



***This is actually the 25th anniversary of the first I started my current sentence, er employment - yay!***

Touchy Type

I bought a phone with keys
for typing poems and such
though my screen, with a touch
displays a set to appease

those that might prefer
to glide across the glass
but as for me, I'll pass
I crave that tactile lure.

Overtones

The crinkle of leaves underfoot
and smell of decay in the air
are signs of transition that put
the sage in a mode to prepare

though nothing alive can escape
the coldness that follows the fall
we try with abandon to scrape
together the means to forestall

that moment of chilling exchange
when latent initiative grieves
the end, but that's not strange
just listen to the brittle leaves.

Sad to Say

Tragedy is pain that we never would predict
misery's unhappiness we often self inflict
tragedy can shake you to the core of who you are
while misery just puts you in a constant mood to spar
neither is a state in which we wish to become mired
for frequently through one the other is inspired.

9 O'clock Train

He longs to be a writer
And pours out streams of ink
But it looks like another all-nighter
Just to stay at poverty’s brink
And as he heads off to work in the cold October rain
He hears the whistle of the 9 o’clock train

Remember that kid from high school
There was nothing he couldn’t do
We all thought he was so cool
Till they found him stiff and blue
And as that final rush fatally flowed through his vein
He heard the whistle of the 9 o’clock train

Every night the train goes by
While letting loose that lonesome cry
Its single headlight brightly gleams
As people chase their crazy dreams

The couple that wanted a baby
And tried for many years
Never knew how happy they’d be
When filling up their ears
With their child’s cries which was worth every ounce of pain
And the whistle of the 9 o’clock train

Suspect

I'm filled with a foreboding
that I don't quite understand
my confidence corroding
like a rusty iron band

and now I feel dependent
on survival instinct's fare
a fidgety defendant
in a hostile jury's glare.

Lifer

The person I aspire to be
is already there inside of me
repressed by pointless enmity

that smothers any random ray
of sun that tries to shine my way
and pierce the archetypal gray

but I can never seem to find
a way to free that soul resigned
to living out its life confined.

Gag

Exaggeration seldom hurts
when levity is desired
a dud delivered dully flirts
with laughter uninspired

so never fear to give the facts
that calculated stretch
a dry demeanor soon exacts
the urge to simply retch.

Seaworthy

In search of new worlds to explore
and loot to haul away from shore
I'll cast off unresolved despair
a wayward lad with dreams to spare.


***Hey all - Happy Columbus Day! In honor of this day I've composed a poem with links back to some poems with sea faring themes so please enjoy, and if you're lucky enough to have a day off like me - SWEET!***

Missing Persons

'Adults have the right to disappear
if they so choose'
a statement which kept ringing in my ear--
they call that news?
Almost all of us could shed a tear
for those we lose
including those lamentably gone
while still in bed with curtains drawn.

23.5

People before us were prone
to customs more savage than ours
relying completely on stone
or gods with unspeakable powers
and watching the heavens for hours

but how could they know to the day
when things would go awfully awry
unless they were blessed with (let's say)
a degree of insight as to why
we're currently leaning that way.

Fab

It was fifty years ago today
That the people heard the Beatles play
And though it's really been a while
They've never gone out of style
So may I introduce to you Paul, Ringo, George and John
And may their music always live on!

Can you believe that it's been 50 years?
No I'm certain it was only Yesterday
I guess that it's true nothing good disappears
They left us quite a legacy to play

Oh I get high when I hear a Beatles tune
I wanna cry when the Walrus starts to croon
Yes gonna try to always play a Beatles tune
A Beatles too ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh ooh une.


***Sing the first part to Sgt. Pepper and the second part to Help From My Friends***

Correspondent

I record my observations in reports that no one reads
along with all the numbers that a non-combatant needs
to face the true futility of this relentless war
between the ones that we make rich, and we whom they keep poor.

Enlightened

There once was an artist with a moped of red
and a masterpiece moping around in his head
he longed to expel what he couldn’t express
(epiphanies seemed to elude his address),
he scampered about on his scooter each day
in search of a scene that had something to say
but all of his travels just chewed down his tread
the canvas denying his shot at success,
a spectrum that smeared to a prison of gray.

One Thursday he cruised without thinking a thought
when sunshine through clouds unequivocally caught
his eye with its beauty and taught him to see
that shadow and light must achieve harmony
like all of the subjects he longed to compose
so he motored home overcome by the throes
of true inspiration and skillfully wrought
a picture depicting the world that could be
without the addition of darkening woes.

Sanguinary

A single crimson leaf
is lying on the ground
so vibrant yet so dead

its redness is profound
as though the summer bled
because it's way too brief

too soon for trees to shed
and shake their limbs in grief
as wailing winds resound.

Paradox

While everyone was living
I was busy dying
because without forgiving
there’s not much point in trying,

it’s cold without compassion
and darker when denying
the diffidence we fashion
to quell the constant crying

but now I’ve reconnected
my mercy multiplying
ironically resurrected
while you were busy dying.

Fervid

Adversity can often be endured
if there's the slightest chance we'll see our dreams
come true, our febrile longing finally cured
regardless how improbable it seems,
we'll take repeated blows defiantly
or scrounge for every crumb in times of need
as long as we're convinced we just may see
that wish arrive for which we kneel and plead.
There's nothing more important to our race
than finding something positive to ply
a noble cause beyond our base concerns,
like vying for a modicum of grace
(although the cosmos seldom do comply)
and still that awful fever fiercely burns.

Pagan

I've defiled the temple in ways
that would make a centurion blush
and plundered the pillars of praise
to savor a ritual rush
while setting the altars ablaze
my flippant ego flush
with pride, the greatest sin of all
and soon the structure's bound to fall.

Steep

You’re perched upon a precipice
juxtaposed by genesis
of feelings that are not as high
as where you sit and cast your eye
above your so called nemesis;

extending your extremities
in pantomimes of pleasantries
reveals much more than you may think
as well worn gears discreetly clink
ensuring your indemnities

are fully reimbursable,
your sentiment submersible
beneath the pungent oolong tea
whose steamy tendrils set you free
with calmness truly merciful.

Hanger

He fumbled and fussed
compulsively cussed
his matted down mane was mightily mussed,
he fought not to fold
or cave to the cold
that made his assistant much harder to hold
and leaned to the left
so baldly bereft
of any dexterity making him deft
that with a great wheeze
he sank to his knees
and called up a locksmith to bust out his keys.

Craps

We live in the frailest of structures
we dwell in the darkest of dens
uncertain why we’re born to suffer
allured by the lie of the lens,

the fault of our fear is a schism
dividing the heart from the soul,
expecting the next cataclysm
relinquishes needed control—

it’s all about dealing with pressure
stability comes at a price
which no one can truthfully measure
without first defying the dice.

Teaser

A single solar cycle spun
there's not much more I could've done
with different subjects every day
and new conversions won

so what is left for me to say
just what compels me to display
this wordy work that I've begun
to find out you must stay.


***Well this is officially one full year of posting without missing one day. It may not sound like much but believe me it's not so easy. But I'm determined to keep it going as long as I can so sit back and ready yourself for more metered musings on the minutiae of mediocrity - are you reading me?***

Culpable

Greed and fear is all it takes
to help you make your worst mistakes
so take the time to think things through
with drastic odds confronting you
or some of your most chronic aches
will be from unrelenting rue

love and hope are all we need
to overcome that fearful greed
before it ever can inflict
atrocities that will restrict
the duties of this dying breed
that's so damn derelict.

Recognition

I can just see it now:
I'll be a doddering old fool
confusion etched upon my brow
my chin awash in drool

throughout the meal I'll curse and cough
"This should have been pureed!"
and then I'll sit there nodding off
as charming toasts are made

they'll ask me to approach the stage
to give some prize away
while I inquire, daft with age
"So I wrote poems you say?"

Influx

The lay of the land allured my eye
where rounded bales of hay
looked much like marbles left to lie
once God grew tired of play,

then as the burning sun retired
the sky began to blush
and this reflection was inspired
in one big breathless rush.



***Thanks to Promising Poets Parking Lot for the award and I nominate Sunshine of the Moon for perfect poet. Also thanks for all your hard work promoting people like me and giving us a place to post our stuff, you guys rock!!***

Spinning

Wherever you can stretch a line
those wily weavers will design
a matrix of the finest silk
produced by craftsmen of their ilk
that sparkles like the brightest gem
in any royal diadem
when golden sunlight filters through
prismatic drops of morning dew
adorning every wispy strand
that’s interlaced across the land
comprising this careening sphere
to which we now adhere.

Driven

She did yoga so she could stay loose
for focus she practiced tai chi
she grew her own fruit to make juice
but never had time left for me

she volunteered helping the poor
while getting a master’s degree
with passion she faced every chore
except building intimacy

she’s the kind that will never be stopped
accepting new lessons with glee
but will she learn why love has flopped
or even care where I might be?

Patchouli Man

There's this guy around our little town
whose fragrance makes your nostrils clench
he drives a convertible with the top always down
guess he can't even take his own stench.

Rambling

So how did we get here today?
The artifacts don’t always say
but we dig and we scrape
in search of the ape
that forces detractors to sway.

Where are we going from here?
The target is not always clear
with too many trails
and unproven tales
we can’t decide which way to veer.

Aurorean

It's getting dimmer
and growing grimmer
the chance for sunlight slightly slimmer
because we're tilted
the leaves turn wilted
like so many fragile lovers jilted,
the stalks are stricken
they slowly sicken
from cold that makes their juices thicken
until rotation
assists creation
to begin another incarnation--
it's getting dimmer
but there's a glimmer
of burning hope we must always simmer.

Vacancy

He watched her walk away
so long ago it seems
from living here today
to wallow in her dreams

so long ago it seems
she cared, but then preferred
to wallow in her dreams
though she often reassured

she cared, but then preferred
to spend her time alone
though she often reassured
her dazed detachment shone

she spent her time alone
not living here today
her dazed detachment shone
he watched her walk away.

Sweetening

A ruby red dragonfly
alighted on the fence nearby
its iridescent wings aglow
but can I touch it -- nope too slow,

as autumn apples coyly blush
we join the gently jostled crush
that longs to share the harvest yield
before the chance to reap's repealed,

some cider donuts hot and fresh
the sweet-tart zing of crispy flesh
beneath a sky so deeply blue
transcends by adding one thing -- you.

Fortitude

Words mean naught sans deeds
make a move instead
nurture others needs
better done than said

life means much you’ll see
eyes sustained by heart
probe the truths that be
play a helpful part

find the strength to go
past what’s good enough
fight against the flow
brave a bully’s bluff.

Good Thing

It may be worth the dues
you pay for priceless fun
but now your body rues
that frolic in the sun
it's stiffer than a two by four
your knotted back all creaky-sore

each foot feels like a ton
or is that just your shoes
the days of youth are done
as entropy ensues
thank God that freakin' fair is here
for only seven days a year.

Gamesmanship

The moon cupped a star
in the cradle of its glow
like someone playing jai alai in the sky
the goal's just so far
we'll never really know
if we've won, though we dubiously try.

Unscripted

There once was a gnome with a nose
much bigger than you may suppose
it was such a gargantuan snout
he could only get words to come out
by clearing his mouth of his beak
an embarrassing way (so to speak)
of making himself understood
so he wandered away through the wood
to spend his existence alone
while fashioning pens out of bone
to scribble his thoughts down in verse
before they could simply disperse.

One day as he worked on a sheaf
the wind blew one page like a leaf
that flew all the way back to town
getting stuck in the hem of a gown
being worn by the loveliest lass
who sat in a clearing of grass
to read the mysterious lines
and was wooed by their wondrous designs,
deciding that she should be wed
to the author commanding the head
from which this enchantment was wrought
she suddenly turned quite distraught—

the page wasn’t signed with a name
so how could she find her new flame
she followed the breeze and then soon
was hailed by a sparrow’s bright tune
which meant that the forest was near
but she wasn’t stymied by fear
she marched right ahead through the trees
ignoring the shake in her knees
determined to hunt down the hand
of the person whose words were so grand
they made her go slightly insane
with a longing she couldn’t explain.

As she came to the edge of a glade
she stayed in the sheltering shade
and watched a peculiar young gnome
(whose nose almost hung to the loam)
examining papers he held
while frustrated sighs were expelled
and she knew right away he had penned
the page that had forced her to wend
her way through the harrowing dark
pursuing this literal lark
so she rose (all pretty and slim)
to return the page back to him.

She startled the gnome and he ran
so she yelled “Please come back if you can
I found your words blowing about
and I love them, so please, come out!”
the silence was deep and profound
until she could make out the sound
of feet coming back and she smiled
for feedback most writers are wild
and this one seemed anxious to know
if she thought it was good or so-so
then he sheepishly popped from the brush
uncertain of what she may gush

but she simply proceeded to thank
him until her caring eyes drank
in his piteous, retiring form
and then her heart started to warm
with a love that she couldn’t control
exploding from the depths of her soul.
He wrote endless pages of prose
forgetting his corpulent nose
content for the first time in life
he asked her to be his first wife
and the two were soon properly hitched
then his debut booklet was pitched.

Upbringing

There's nothing like a child's embrace
to remind you how lucky you are
their face pressed against your face
no hint of deception to mar

the most beautiful feeling you'll know
a complete and unquestioning trust
that like them, will hopefully grow
as unselfish love surely must.

Lofty

The mist upon the bay cannot delay
a golden beast from rising in the east
to start the day by eating up the gray
that seems at least to be a filling feast,
for it's too plump to ever try to jump
and somehow slip our mother's clingy grip,
but soon the grump is more than just a bump
it clears the tip, a smirk across its lip
because it's bright enough to know its stuff
has all the pull it needs and supercedes
the force of any other place in this small space;
at night we blindly bluff a cool rebuff,
while darker deeds abound our promise feeds
on hopes the brute will always grace our race.

August Moon

The slats allow your luster in
my window's one big silver grin
reflecting your aloof disdain
for subjects that revolt in vain
you rule the sky from dusk till dawn
and while sometimes you look withdrawn
tonight you are robust and full
exerting your magnetic pull
on poets seeking fodder for
creations that the throngs adore
or at least a decent line or two
before your cobalt clout is through.

Ages

Today I watched a leaf's descent
it slowly wafted to the ground
while mother's limbs, all gnarled and bent
were shuddering with discontent
because the fiend called time had browned
her blustered brood without repent.

It's darker in the morning now
and night, it seems, comes sooner too
despite how much I disavow
the growing shadow on my brow
we all await the cycle to renew
what generation temperance may allow.

Good Faith

The separation of church and state
really isn’t all that great
when those that make the laws are swayed
by those with whom they’ve staunchly prayed.

Priceless

We tilted and whirled
we laughed and screamed
and as we twirled
I broadly beamed
a man once more become a boy
through simple rites of carefree joy.

He held my hand
we strolled the grounds
awash in grand
events and sounds
"See the King of Rats!" a barker cried
we giggled and jumped on another ride.

The summer sun
had begun to drop
and I knew the fun
would have to stop
when darkness finally ended the fair
but at that moment I didn't care

I spent my youth
in that very same place
each contest and booth
a tangible trace
of the timeless truth
I saw on his face
that someday hence he'll pass along
an heirloom there amidst that throng.

Exit

The river rolled as I inhaled
a happy meal ‘bout halfway staled
and morning sunlight slowly paled
behind a cloud of gray,

while miles away the thruway thrummed
with those that hadn’t yet succumbed
like old guitars that can’t be strummed
despite how well you play;

there’s got to be a better path
around this road of rigid wrath
the culprit known as concrete hath
attempted to convey.

Compensation

The worst crime against working people is a company which fails to operate at a profit – Samuel Gompers

They give us a day in September
in hopes that we'll fail to remember
how much we would love to forget
the dues we must pay with our sweat,
resentment that burns like an ember

reminds us with every new statement
annoyance will feel no abatement
till granted financial respect
and then we can calmly reflect
where all of the worthless hate went.

Utter

All I could ask of tomorrow
is to spend my last day with you
to slip the assailment of sorrow
if just for a moment or two

to borrow my breath from your beauty
that constantly steals it away
so it can perform one more duty
and aid me to tenderly say

how smitten I've been by your spirit
and blessed by the love that you gave
then once you have told me you hear it
I'll peacefully go to my grave.

Derelict

Every drip is like a knife
that penetrates my brain
reminding me my stab at life
was clumsily in vain
a poorly botched fiasco rife
with rivulets of rain
that seep through a neglected roof
and pool in puddles of reproof

If only pennies could be shaved
to make required repairs
perhaps this structure could be saved
and prove somebody cares
so further worries might be waived
at least in terms of lairs
but as for other ailing forms
there's still a chance of future storms.

Road Rash

A ghostly white guardian glowers nearby
its crater marked countenance scanning the sky
I wish to gain speed but the car in the lead
doesn't know what it's like to be fleetingly freed
the august assembly of everything green
is friendly and waves to my moving machine
as smoky cloaked cleavage bestudded with pine
entices the hungry observer to dine
but how many signs can a lonely road bear
when failure to yield means no shoulder is there.

Stash

I journeyed to the shrine today
in search of some asylum
and watched the butterflies at play
the floaters of the phylum

the monarchs ruled as royalty
their spotted wings resplendent
which gained a growing loyalty
from all the rest attendant

there were yellow ones, some were white
and tiny ones of azure
that begged my heart to join their flight
a sorely sought for treasure

for if I'm ever down again
in some sad situation
I'll surely smile remembering when
I scored this rare elation.

Waters

Under the bridge, that’s what the old adage says right? We’ve all watched the flow of time and the passage of transitory things in our lives – mine has been a steady stream of short-lived acquaintances, for once people see I’m as detached and sometimes as chilly as that proverbial water, they move on.

I generally keep to myself and literally live in my own little world. Several cases of betrayal and wounded pride have left me leery towards people and it takes me a long time to warm up to someone, if I do at all. There is no animosity involved, just a sense of personal security I get by keeping my business to myself, so when I do click with someone it’s quite exhilarating.

One such person I’ll never forget is a guy named Brian. We worked together 20 years ago and when we realized we both dabbled in music we decided to get together and jam. It was an instant bond; we spent many hours learning songs and even worked on my original music as that was truly the passion in my life at that time.

I would go to gatherings in NY City where people were allowed to leave demo tapes and after we had recorded a couple of my songs on a crappy 4 track cassette rig I prepared a tape and planned a trip to drop it off. I’ll never forget the look on his face when he saw the tape which said ‘Written by Bob Hazelton – Performed by Brian and Bob’. He looked like I had just punched him in the stomach, so I said, “What’s wrong Bro?”

“Oh nothing’, he said trying to sound unconcerned, “I just thought we would both be listed as writers.” That was all he said and I felt I didn’t need to explain that those songs were already done and arranged when I showed them to him. In my mind I figured he must understand, it wasn’t to cut him out of any royalties (as if any of my songs would be hits) it’s just that I wrote them. Any future material we came up with together would be noted as such. But after that, things changed and we slowly drifted apart. As I said above – wounded pride – this time it was the other guy, not me feeling it.

Brian ended up getting married and putting music aside completely and after a failed attempt at a band with other people I did as well. Then both our marriages flopped and he took the ending of his quite badly. I never heard from him after that because he soon moved to a new city and started a new life.

His name came up the other day and I said, “Hey check for him on Facebook.” So my wife did and his page came right up. He had remarried and had a cute child whom he obviously adored from the pictures he had posted. I was going to send him a message but looked at his smiling face and decided against it, why remind him of a painful past that had rolled beneath his bridge and vanished long ago?

Well anyways, my wife called me this morning and said he had died suddenly, it was in the paper. I found myself thinking back on those days filled with music and fun. We loved playing Pink Floyd and Roger Waters is probably my favorite lyricist of all time. When Brian played his guitar it sounded like David Gilmore was sitting right next to me. After work today I’m going home to dig out one of our old tapes so I can hear his disembodied voice, that one small piece I have left of a friendship I will always cherish, and waters will start pouring from my eyes as those lyrics ring out with more meaning than they’ve ever had before—

‘How I wish, how I wish you were here…’

No Bones About It

Civility is nearly dead
what happens when the food runs dry?
We must remember our daily bread
does NOT mean those less spry.

Wearisome

Is this such a jaded age
that witticism on the page
is simply pegged as pointless tripe
resulting in unspoken type
while sniveling is seen as sage
if you’re down with all the hype
but here’s one glaring gripe—
you lose your heart to ride the rage.

Just Look

And there, upon an intermediate hill
stands the truth no one knew they were looking for
as cryptic as an ancient cross
as lethal as a misty sea
a thing of aching beauty
and vile revulsion
that beckons like a lighthouse
and teases like a chain link fence
with a hole just small enough
to slip through.

I couldn't help but wonder
why something that seemed
relatively accessible
was apparently so hard to find
then intently watched a fellow seeker
begin their quest in a different spot than mine
and I suddenly realized--

it was simply because
the path is completely unique
for everyone.

Appetites

Does hunger drive your soul
to savor all you can
or do you fill your bowl
with the lenience of The Lamb,
will novel flavor goad
you to indulge for a span?
consumption can be slowed
just resist the urge to cram.

Persist

Time melts away
or so they say
but how do you keep
remorse at bay?

Try looking past
what holds you fast
and always leap—
surrender last!

In order to see
what has yet to be
succumb to sleep
while holding the key.


***Inspired by a prompt over at Poets United about Salvador Dali***

Picking a Fight

The key to this broken down city
removed the paint but good
if you want things so damn shitty
please go back to the ‘hood.


***No your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you; it’s your everyday average poet and wife with Frank Fritz, one of the American Pickers. They stopped to do some picking in an old factory (one thing we have in abundance in Amsterdam) and we ran over to see if we could talk to them. Both guys, Mike and Frank were just so nice and it was really neat to meet these people I watch on TV all the time. I can’t wait to see the episode!

As to the poem, well it’s dedicated to the delinquent denizens of Eagle Street that felt the need to severely key one of the cars in the Picker’s entourage. As we approached I saw a bunch of people decidedly ‘gangsta’ in appearance and attitude. They must have been mad because all the activity really put a damper on their crack business. Someone went up one side of the vehicle and down the other, I was so embarrassed, what a welcome to our town. I can only apologize and hope that certain people get what’s coming to them.***

Conceive

The august night is cool
in the shadow of the fall
a lambent moon is waxing
our shady grip relaxing
so silver dreams can pool
near the garden by the wall

where growth is ever stalked
but time to sow is scant
when furrows of fertility
enable the ability
before the light is balked
and the season says we can’t.

Exposure

I’m here in my aquarium
just waiting to be seen
a glassine sanitarium
within the mean machine
and deep inside my cranium
the gears begin to keen
impatient to be truly free
from this menagerie.

Verifiable

God I hate being right
it’s quite a perplexing plight
to bear this burden I do
of forecasting ills often true
why can’t I lethargically laze
like those that exist in a daze
instead of attempting to see
the pattern through the lunacy
the chaos that we all endure
that leaves us alone and unsure
as I have felt since very young
when dreams were carelessly flung
beyond my untenable touch
revealing I wouldn’t be much
a failure that forfeits the fight
God, I hate being right.

Perfect Ass

Charlie O'Shea
spent part of each day
observing commuters, getting carried away

driven to ride
he secretly eyed
the subway's assortment of stylish pride

along one such line
a diva divine
compelled him to say, "Oh my God she is fine!"

but he quickly hushed
and brilliantly blushed
then a stuttering stream of apologies gushed

for right next to him
and looking quite grim
was the person betrothed to his lecherous whim.

Blockage

My main source of traffic? A spammer
that hasn't a virtual clue
their bothersome link laden clamor
is stuck in the trap of the loo.

Crispy

When truth is forsaken in order to sell you just may awaken one day within hell you’ll know by the smell it’s something like bacon and then you can tell that you’ve been mistaken and seriously shaken.

Plutocracy

There are no shepherds tending flocks
in sweet idyllic fields
just misers pushing for their stocks
to reach new record yields

for once the greedy saw that wealth
could be a cheap façade
they quickly spurned the nation’s health
to rule the poorly shod—

the golden mean has changed a bit
it’s now: ‘Do unto those
that handle all the menial shit
a future full of woes.’

Incorporate

The front door squeaks
my pressure peaks
one steaming cup
new tickets up
the best day in weeks,

the food is fresh
unlike my flesh
as passion feeds
my dreams and deeds
that have yet to mesh.

Interjection

Words can flow
fast or slow
they can change
as concepts grow

some will hang
or turn to slang
then rearrange
when slyly sang

those that sell
repel as well
becoming strange
for quite a spell.

Momentum

We had a pretty good run
but the process has begun
and soon, we may be through;

although we couldn’t shun
our addiction to the gun
we had a pretty good run

until compassion flew
deciding greed was fun
and soon, we may be through

like an ice cube in the sun.
When all is said and done
we had a pretty good run

at least that much is true,
we tried but never won
and soon, we may be through,

our chances slim to none
but here’s what we must do—
achieve a decent run
and we just may make it through.

Aggregate

Life is like a luscious blackberry
every bittersweet seed-filled sphere
a tick of embryonic possibility
to savor as we persevere.

Rapture

The more ancient the temple
the deeper the shadows
where images carved over
a hundred centuries ago
invite us in with dusty whispers
and monumental mirth
for none has yet deciphered the jubilant truth
their stony gazes can't convey.

Beneath the drifting sand a great behemoth
shakes its unshorn head
and paws about, its massive backbone arched
like the daunting chiseled doorways
that beckon us above,
constructed to outlive their own haunting,
and we, the pesky fleas upon its back
are thirsty for the blood we need
to suffer till the spinning silver disks
appear to spirit us away.

Familiarity

I think it was at the Five and Dime
you flipped a dog-eared grin
that was indeed a chapter in time
and our friendship did begin,

together we spent so many days
discovering new things to see
your colorful climactic ways
would always speak volumes to me;

it all just seemed to go so fast
and then there was the end
but the memories will always last
of my funny fast-paced friend.

Waffles for Westin

I have a grandson named Westin
and in the morning when he’s done restin’
there’s one thing he fancies digestin’
the waffles he claims are the best in

the world, so I mix up the batter
then pour and occasionally splatter
all over but it doesn’t matter
his smile makes hesitance scatter.

Fetching

We resolutely labor
to see our distant neighbor
in an up close and personal kind of way
dispatching one fine rover
to search the planet over
and maybe find out why we’re here today.

Repent

If you're getting paid
to practice a trade
the sweat you exude
is proof that you prayed

to the gold corporate cow
so soften your brow
you mustn't be rude
to the source of your chow.

Toss Up

Wouldn’t we grow sick of joy
if everyday the cute and coy
were babbling their bubbly brand
of blather all across this land—
“Come on every girl and boy
take each other by the hand!”

or am I just a heartless cur
so anxious to unleash my slur
that I ignore the beauty of
attempts to spread a little love?
Shouldn’t such occasions stir
an urge to hug and not to shove

a finger halfway down my throat
before these saccharine sillies bloat
my mind with all their banal cheer
and I am smiling ear to ear
while all the touchy-feelies gloat,
my dubious conversion near.

Flutter

The finches flit and flirt
but scandalously skirt
the cover of a cozy copse
their inner shame inert

and as a plump one plops
his happy honey hops
their conjugation rather curt
the stalemate never stops.

Full of Itself

It tried to coax some lines from me
about the mystic majesty
a spectral silver glimmer lends
to anything with which it blends
but sleep kept singing to my mind
the song not easily declined
that sultry siren's lullaby
I wasn't able to deny
strangely though the temptress seems
to hypnotize me through my dreams
for here I sit and pen this tune
about that most immodest moon.

Code

The Fire Inspector blew smoke from his nose
while scratching some marks on the clipboard he held,
a random viewer would have to suppose
the risks of burning are sometimes dispelled;
as blue and grayish tendrils wrapped around
his ruddy visage, he began to cough
and wheeze (a most unhealthy kind of sound)
which made me ask if he’d be signing off.
How often has this pattern been replayed
by people that know better but don’t care,
like scarecrows lighting matches just for fun—
it’s our credo to defiantly trade
security to face the fearsome flare
of flames that will consume us when they’re done.

Wayward

Now whether you follow a map
or your own intrepid heart
there’s bound to be some detours on the way
but if you’re too unsure to tap
your strength and make a start
you’ll never get beyond that same old quay.

Release those ropes, trim those sails
and raise your anchor high
while looking just as lively as you feel
a soul with hopes and luck prevails
by keeping passion nigh
like precious cargo deep within their keel.

Retraction

When he briefly believed
he knew whatever he conceived
could be achieved,

so he calmly complied
completing what he tried
despite who lied,

but he quickly perceived
the futility and grieved,
when he briefly believed.

Vitrification

Legends are forged in a fire
few can stand to bear
multitudes may aspire
but only those that dare
to burn are wafted higher

above those unaware
how harsh the flame can be
and truly, they don’t care
they only long to see
their hero hanging there

as some ancient deity
awash in holy light
a symbol of humanity
ascending towards delight
without humility

despite the fact that clay
turns frail once thusly baked
and will be chipped away
like every heart that’s ached
to brave the kiln’s dismay.

Forlorn

Four minutes of silence to think
about the unfairness we face
how life can be gone in a blink
and end our allotment of grace.

Four moments of stillness to bear
the pain we would rather move past
but we know it will always be there
until we are with them at last.

Four years make us wonder 'what for?'
lamenting the loss of a love
that seraphim somberly bore
to be with our Savior above.

6th Sense

Strict adherence to the scale
isn't how the gifted wail
the difference between good and great
is knowing when to deviate.

Obstinate

A shadow swoops over the valley
and now the day is dim
foretelling quite a tally
so ominously grim
the Reaper's wicked whim

his sickle is terribly biting
the bevelled blade so keen
there's really no use in fighting
but still we contravene
forever in between.

Propositional

Just a fling
no big thing
until they felt
the stirring sting

of gnawing need
guaranteed
to leave a welt
that won’t recede

and now the two
have made it true
for one has knelt
to hear “I Do!”

Trademark

To try something new, that’s the whole point
inviting intuitive salve to anoint
creative compulsions that long to get through
that’s the whole point, to try something new.

To make lasting art, there’s more than one way
releasing the fetters so fancy can play
may spark an epiphany deep in the heart
there’s more than one way to make lasting art,

just be who you are with confident skill
while fashioning forms that uniquely fulfill
the need to respond to that call from afar,
with confident skill just be who you are.

Unfortunate

The moguls felt mirth when the malcontents massed
and piously prattled that pacts should be passed
condemning the corporate accrual of cash
defraying their flippancy awful damn fast.

Divining

Just as it was thundering
a wayward train went through
and it really got me wondering
which one of the two

produced the righteous rumbling
that shook me to the bone
with power that was humbling
enough to force a moan

while lightning flickered brilliantly
across the starless sky
I figured almost instantly
the storm would not blow by

so I just lay there listening
to the sorely needed rain
each crystal droplet glistening
like treasure to the plain

where clay is prone to aridness
and crumbles to the touch
requiring preparedness
when drought becomes too much.

Little Helper

I try to keep my mind above
those petty thoughts adverse to love
but every now and then it sags
requiring a gentle shove

and sometimes still it limply lags
despite how much my conscience nags
until a small determined soul
unceremoniously drags

it from the daunting gloomy hole
with cuteness that's beyond control
so self absorbtion doesn't take
an everlasting toll.

Worth a Shot

Midnight sky
bullets fly
people cry
victims die

darkness reigns
laxness wanes
caring gains
hope sustains.


***Well this is officially my 1500th post. I hadn't planned on penning a poem, maybe just a little look back, but current events have spawned this brief call for the courage to stay positive.***

Cut Up

Trees just love the sun
it's obvious to anyone
their green hands in the air
grasping for a healthy share
and please forgive the pun--
not a sign of board despair.

Dedicated

A vow becomes a sacred bond
when two hearts learn to look beyond
annoyances that come and go
so loving trust has time to grow.


***Happy Anniversary Dear!***

Touching

We simply must
indulge our lust
before we rot away to dust

for one caress
can cancel stress
and justify the whole damn mess.

Penance

When seeking absolution
get set for some intrusion
although the whole forgiveness thing
is really an illusion

for once initiated
no deed may be abated
but those that make your conscience sting
can be somewhat negated

by acting beneficial
to counter the initial
indignities trespasses bring
when being prejudicial.

Baked

It's too damn hot
but I'll take a shot
at sweating out some verse
it' not a lot
but all I've got
mercurial and terse.

Motive

Would you build a house to board it up
or drain the well to fill your cup
can you find a reason to go insane
and give your all despite no gain,
will you crunch the numbers with digits gone
or float a check when overdrawn,
can you feel the scar without finding a mark
affirmed by faith that seems like a lark—
is there nothing more than life and death
to inspire the need for at least one more breath?

Flower

Blossoms by the billions bloom
to gorge on glitter they consume
that sprinkles downward from the sun
through swirling clouds the wind has spun

just yesterday the trees were bare
and needy limbs displayed despair
tomorrow they'll sport vibrant garb
before the bite of bitter barb

unending cycles generate
the past which we perpetuate
a constant dance with days of doom
as blossoms by the billions bloom.

Flex

Proponents of a breeze
have never worn my shoes
or begged their creaking knees
to find a way to bend,
(as long exhausted thews
are reluctant to extend)

protesting every task
in lieu of needed rest
despite my nerve to ask
for energy to strive
and conquer every test
as long as I’m alive.

Gift or Curse?

Gift or curse
this verve for verse,
a yen to pen
that won’t disperse
indeed this need
is getting worse
but still I quill
gift or curse?

Hostilities

There are things I should learn to let go
but I’m either too stubborn or slow
my shoulders droop lower each day
from the chip that I won’t brush away

although I inherently know
there are things I should learn to let go
my defenses are fashioned with pride
the nefarious villain inside.

It’s ironic that I’m dug in here
behind these embankments of fear
there are things I should learn to let go
to be rid of this quarrelsome foe

so the conflict can possibly cease
and perhaps bring a tentative peace
that’s contingent on one proviso—
there are things I must learn to let go.

Cramped

I wish I had your enthusiasm
but I’m in the midst a muscle spasm
resulting from a serious scare
when I almost felt an urge to care—

I’ve worked here forever (or so it seems)
ridiculous duties destroying my dreams,
each morning wishing I could retch
or shed the cube and finally stretch.

Pangs

If you swallow an egg
from a chicken that’s caged
will it make your throat constrict?

When you chew on some fruit
from a prison of glass
is your breath entrapped by the pit?

Should you chomp on the flesh
of an innocent beast
could your heart give your hunger a hint?

Deliverance

The numbers and letters on the keyboard you see
are very vain characters longing to be
their dominance lasted until the current age
when email made one an unstoppable rage

it's not ampersand but a lower case A
with a circle around it (though not all the way)
which makes sure your messages won't fall flat
by telling the internet where we are at.

Illumed

An amber sun descends
a cloud bestudded sky,
enjoying warmth and friends
before the fall draws nigh,
the type of day that ends
a fruitless search for why
at least until it's time for sleep
when churning questions slowly steep
beneath a silent, knowing moon
which may enlighten very soon.

Stresses

There's death upon the wall
the ivy has a brownish pall--
that dentist with the lilting drawl
has pulled the root so it will fall.

There's raging in the creek
an egg within a raven's beak
that shies from every jealous shriek
of one that won't reverse their cheek.

There's conflict we have found
in everything, hear the sound
and feel it in another round
of verse the hapless bards expound.

Subject

I like to think I can appreciate art
no matter the form
but when it doesn’t conform
to my view of the norm
there’s a flutter in my heart

and I don’t know if it’s distaste or awe
or a mixture of the pair
affecting me down there
insisting that I stare
into that great unfathomed maw.

Cool

Positivity
is one proclivity
I strive to keep alive
until reality
with fierce finality
makes it take a dive
then stubborn tendencies
drown dependencies
dragging everything down
so equanimity
is in proximity
replacing every frown.

Freedom

Above me soared a graceful bird
with unabashed impunity
and feather touch commanding winds
to take it far beyond the throng
then deep within me something stirred
from which there's no immunity,
the passion standing still rescinds
that filled me like a holy song,
compelling me to move along.

Bolstered

There are few that will ever know
and even less to care
about these endless words that flow
coercing me to share

but in the silence of my grave
perhaps I’ll chance to hear
a troubled soul give thanks I gave
them strength to persevere.

Chronology

I flipped a calendar page today
so thirty days went by you say?
July is here but I’m stuck in may.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so sad
if I had used the time I had
for something other than going mad

but who can say what’s truly sane
we all have dreams some see as vain,
an impetus that won’t abstain

despite a stack of pointless tries
and unrepentant alibis
that chronicle the compromise.

Wearing

The look is deliberate chaos
you can tell upon a glance
their hair is sculpted dysfunction
and they're swimming in their pants,
but I have learned to accept it
for why should it bother me?
It all just seems so tedious
caring what the next fad will be.

What Box?

No corrugated walls confine us
or ivy strangled halls define us
and if you need a task completed
we'll outhink the easily defeated.


***Dedicated to Bob & Martin***

Jump

So many seem to hop about
throughout a dismal bog of doubt
impatient for a guiding hand
to lead them back to solid land
but once they’re known to be devout
they’re herded towards the quickest sand

and soon it’s just a big morass
of slinging mud and noxious gas
that causes everyone to choke
much like the heavy, stifling yoke
that's clamped on those of 'lower class'
until the day they gladly croak.


***Inspired by The Frogs that Desired a King***

Revelation

The first time we are truly hurt inside
it seems as though the world itself will die
until we learn to soothe our nettled pride
and maybe have ourselves a little cry;
it’s funny how the tears can feel so warm
when prompted by the coldest type of pain
but condensation only tends to form
if fire and ice are suddenly made twain.
Be wary of the storms that may ensue
but don’t you halt your plans for fear of such
we all have spates we have to make it through
the trick is never dwelling over much
beneath thunderheads of our own design
so healing sunlight can finally shine.

Unresolved

Half of me is sorry
and insists we could have saved you
from the undeserved horror
and the pain that you went through

the other half is bitter
for a score of wasted years
where we shrank behind the shutters
in our homes of brittle tiers

all of me is hollow
like the heart within my chest
remembering those yellow
roses that we laid upon your lifeless breast.

Indulgence

Isn’t calling a poem bad
just because it rhymes a tad
ridiculous to say the least?
Delicious ditties that abound
with flavorings of echoed sound
can make a treat on which the mind will feast.

Voyagers

As envoy of the human race
it sails the vasty void
an object of ingenious grace
too often unemployed
while searching for the faintest trace
from any that have toyed
with questions plumbing who they are
and what’s beyond their native star.

Through endless night it navigates
transmitting all the while
historical coordinates
with every passing mile,
an instrument that demonstrates
the brashness of our style
by braving such enormous risk
to bear one gleaming golden disc.

Unlimited (My Ass)

I've been using this phone
to update my blog
and comment as much as I can
but now I just moan
like a beaten down dog
that last bill demands a new plan.

Kindred

A grackle combs the creek
picking food out with it's beak
the iridescent blue-green head
is shimmering and sleek

until it starts to spread
ebon wings to fly instead
to somewhere with a bit more fare
than this old lumpy bed

and as it lifts into the air
searching, searching everywhere
I wish it luck in finding peace
and long to meet it there.

Prospect

The smell of daffodils at dawn
raises spirits, like the sun
that lights upon the lounging lawn
now that night is done;

with yellow fingers stretching out
blooms become minuscule hands
to grab the gold that’s all about
before it ever lands.

A bumblebee’s been bitten by
lust for gold, that greedy bug
and tries to pilfer, on the sly
as much as it can lug,

tonight the moon turns new again
daffodils will never know
they’ll be asleep while dreaming when
the glow of life will show.

A wealth of ways to win awaits
those that dig devoid of shame
in search of more affluent fates
we all would love to claim.

Small Change

It seems such a crime
to have one sticky dime
and nothing on which I can spend it
while hardly sublime
I thought of this rhyme
then unstuck my digits and penned it.

Enter the Wagon

Have you ever bought groceries with a ninja in tow?
In case you ever do, here are things you should know:
the veggies will stalk you to make you pay the price
and you may be banned forever from the Aisle of Rice.
Despite the daunting challenges you’ll likely crack a smile
remembering that childhood will only last a while
and if the lettuce snaps back, just bust a head or two
then you and your little warrior can laugh when it’s all through.

Scrape

Have you ever been in a harrowing situation completely unsure of why you’re there, and only after you toughed it out did you discover it was for a different reason than the one you were given before you took the leap? I remember one such incident with humor now, but when it was happening I was scared beyond anything I had felt up to that time in my young life. And while I was a bit scuffed up afterward, it ultimately helped make me the plucky person I am today.

I joined the Navy when still 18, my 19th birthday occurred while I was in boot camp, so as you can imagine, I was quite naïve. My Mother sent me a box full of brownies and various cookies which I had to go to the Company Commander’s office to retrieve. BMC Watts, I’ll never forget him – our company mascot was a bulldog and that’s just what his face looked like, his big droopy jowls and squinty eyes giving him a laid back appearance. That is until he opened his mouth and started barking orders like the drill sergeant he was. So, as I innocently knocked on his door I was unprepared for the razzing he gave me.

“So you want your cookies that mommy made for you Hazelton? Too bad me and the other Commanders already ate your little treat, you’re in boot camp now Rick (short for recruit) you only eat if we say you eat.”

Now I was green but I knew what it was to be busted, I had endured my own fair share of people lording over me just because they could, but what he didn’t know was that I could maintain a stone face that it was hard to see through, and this is exactly what I did saying, “Well I guess there’s no need for me to stand here any longer, request permission to return to barracks sir.”

This caught him off guard; I imagine he had prepared himself for some whining but I would give him no such satisfaction, so he quickly recovered and said, “I guess you don’t want this then.” and he held a small opened cardboard box in his hands for me to see. Thinking the test was over I began walking towards him to get it, boy was that a mistake.

“Just where do you think you’re going Rick? Did I give you permission to enter this room? (I had been standing in the doorway this whole time) “If you want this you have to prove you want it, how about some push ups?”

My deprived young body was craving homemade sweets so I dropped saying “How many Sir?” to which he replied (while half reclined on a couch), “Just start doing them, I’ll let you know when you’ve earned your package.”

After about twenty he grudgingly told me to stop and gruffly threw the box at me as I stood. “Don’t get used to that stuff, go share it with your crew.” And that was my first inclination that martial bullshit, er I mean discipline wasn’t really for me.

Anyways, fast-forward several months and I was at my ship, the USS Briscoe, a destroyer with a crew of about 300 on board. I had already started getting my sea legs when on the way over I had a brief stay on a Marine transport until my ship was close enough to reach with a helicopter. While on the transport, the USS Ponce, I had liberty and enjoyed some time in Haifa, Israel, experiencing some local flavors, mainly ouzo. When I woke up hung over, and felt that rocking motion of being on water, I felt the gorge rapidly rising. But I had learned at a young age that if I really set my mind to something I could make it so. I remember lying in that bunk for a good hour with my eyes closed, fighting the nausea that kept coming in waves, just like the Mediterranean, and telling myself ‘if you give in now you will always have issues, but if you can stomach this you will never be seasick’. Well I never did get sick then or any time after that, regardless how rough the sea was, a small victory but a win nonetheless.

So I had only been on the ship maybe one day and they told me to report to the forecastle for my duty assignment. As I walk out onto the front deck of the ship, I see the chief of my department, his second and another seaman, so I’m not thinking anything of it. The second in command, a tall thin guy with a very pointy nose named John McGlone aka Spike, did the talking. He had a gravelly voice with the slightest hint of a southern accent, a very personable guy, but right then he was all business.

“Seaman Hazelton” he said in a very stern voice, “We are, as you can see, underway in the Mediterranean Sea which is made of salt water. We are on a vessel made of steel. Do you know what happens when salt water meets steel Seaman Hazelton? Rust! This is something we cannot have, so a big part of our job is maintaining the ship which includes regular scraping and painting of all surfaces that show exposed metal, any questions?”

At that point I had none, it all seemed pretty straightforward to me. “Now Seaman Hazelton, have you ever heard of a boatswain’s chair?” I indicated I had not which prompted him to bend down and pick up a small plank of wood, barely wide enough to hold my skinny ass, which I had ignored up till then. It was very much like a makeshift swing with two ropes knotted through the wood on either end. “This is a boatswain’s chair and we are going to use it to lower you over the side so you can scrape the anchor.”

Excuse me? Had I just heard what I thought I heard? It’s a friggin’ anchor for Christ sake, why would you possibly want to scrape something like that? It was half the size of a Volkswagen Beetle and from my vantage point on the deck about 40 feet above the water, it looked like it had a lot of exposed metal. Now I was good at keeping my mouth shut and going with the flow but I finally said, “Are you sure, it will take me hours to scrape that. What am I supposed to use?” Spike gave me a sardonic smile and handed me a small wire brush, “Here you go, now try to clean the metal the best you can."

I have to admit, when I first got there I was mesmerized by the beauty of the Mediterranean and loved the smell of salty breezes, but then, on that deck, my mind was gripped by horror. I wasn’t the best swimmer and first going over the edge and then dangling there under that anchor was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done. The water was literally as smooth as glass and there was almost no wind. The ship had been fully stopped for this procedure and I just kept picturing myself falling out of the chair, or worse yet that anchor suddenly busting free and taking me to meet Davy Jones personally. I tried my best to scrape but when I pushed against the anchor to actually remove some rust the chair would go swinging out into the air. Oh, it almost makes me sick just thinking about it.

After about ten minutes which seemed like 10 years, I noticed that the breeze had picked up and when I looked at the waterline I could see movement so I yelled up to the guys on deck. “Hey are we supposed to be moving?”

“We’re not, don’t worry about it.” came the disembodied response.

“Yeah well you better look again.”

“Holy shit we are moving, hurry pull him up!” and suddenly my little swing started rising up to the deck very quickly. Two sets of hands roughly grabbed my arms and yanked me over the edge of the deck scraping my torso and legs. Spike stood there with a cigarette dangling out of his mouth (glad they were so concerned for my safety) and started laughing. When he looked at me there was more respect in his eyes and when he spoke his voice was much less stern than it had been. “They weren’t supposed to move again until we gave them the word you were back up, that is extremely dangerous, are you OK?”

I said “Yeah, a little scraped up but I’ll be alright. I didn’t clean the metal very well so I don’t think the paint will stick when we…” I had stopped for Spike and the other two were laughing openly.

“Listen” said Spike, “It was just a test, we were seeing if you would do what we told you and how well you handle pressure, we have to know if we can count on you in case something goes down. You have to understand we could be attacked at any time or have some kind of disaster and the ship start sinking, we had to know what you’re about.”

Realizing I had just been hazed I said, “Well, how did I do?”

Spike said with a smile “Outstanding Hazelton, you’re alright.” And just like that I was one of the guys. He told me later that some people flat out refused to go over the side; some freaked out and had to be pulled up early. Very few it seemed handled it with the grace I had exhibited, if they only knew, I had to change my undies after that one.

If nothing else, that experience taught me I can do anything, even if I get chafed along the way and I’ve always been grateful that I wasn’t in the engine department, for their hazing ritual involved a grease gun and a certain orifice, I’ll leave the rest to your imagination – talk about traumatic predicaments.

Testimonial

I contemplate the future without rue
there’s none to leave my wealth of nothing to
no one to let down when I don’t come through

I’m puzzled why I never could commit
while telling myself I’m better off for it
then sigh... because I know I’m full of shit

there are people in my life for whom I care
and though my vagrant mind’s not always there
I love them more than anyone’s aware.

Dishing

When you operate a diner
it gobbles up your time
but I'm not a whiner
just a poet doomed to rhyme

and if you come here starving
you'll never have to wait
for I am always carving
always trying to create

an entree that's fulfilling
but also tasty too,
it's grueling ever grilling
for the patronizing few.

Tidbits

There's nothing you can't do
with faith that's true
and nowhere you can go
that love won't flow
there's not much you can't see
when ego free
and little you'll regret
devoid of debt.

'In' Sect

The house where I grew was burned down,
the ship I was on? simply sunk,
my past, like an old wedding gown
has been eaten by moths in the trunk.

I strove to be so independent
but lack of achievement can sting
and now I’m a badgered defendant
unable to prove a damn thing.

Someday, they’ll be razing this plant
where I wasted my lifetime in toil,
the tiny yet diligent ant
that’s crushed like a bug in the soil,

I want to be one with the swarm
but can’t find a motive to fly
if wings mean I learned to conform
I’d rather be splattered and die.

Vertices

There’s always been a side of me
unheard of in geometry
for no set shape can quite define
the angle of my own design
not even trigonometry—

and if our vectors intersect
the single point where they connect
may help us plot another arc
that slices through the looming dark
with pure respect.

Amend

There is no profundity
in endless redundancy
but sometimes we just can’t abstain
from rituals performed in vain.

There is no deformity
when questioning conformity
despite the impolitic stares
of those convinced their leader cares.

There is no immunity
to impudent impunity
of roguish types that make the rules
but feel to follow is for fools.

Lookers

A preponderance of pity won’t preclude
the misery of an ever-moping mood
rejoice in the reality you wreak
satisfaction serves the sort that seek.

Sportsmanship

You can scrape a line before me
but that doesn’t mean I’ll toe it
for no one tells me what to say or do
but if we’re keeping score we
may be forced (just so you know it)
to spot you one, or maybe even two;

I don’t know why I was born this way
but it’s been like that forever
so let’s commence to do what needs be done,
you can pound your chest and loudly bray
pursuing this endeavor
or let me do my thing and feel you’ve won.

Life

Some blackbirds buzz a crafty crow
that tried to raid their lair
who scorns them as it turns to go
and ride the churning air--

a pair of yellow butterflies
are dancing cross the road
their bright ballet a sweet reprise
of spring's expectant mode--

an old man harbors many fish
where some have yet to bite
but bait won't tackle every wish
when bobbers drop from sight--

the hollow clangs of longing ring
and slowly start to creep
from rail to soul as crickets sing
a yearning mind to sleep.