Hangin' Van Gogh,
out at the French Chateau,
palates all been dressed,
just to construct this mess,
burgundy red to Royal blue,
portray ruling societies true virtue,
hangin' Van Gogh.

Now you know this Van Gogh,
he felt kinda low,
brush strokes rigid, direct,
softening to near perfect,
his crimson's bled, society's bed,
his brush dipped in pain,
such excess, insane.
He saw beauty in all that waste,
high society not his taste,
hangin' Van Gogh.

Conspiring in bank
Friends in High Places to thank
Fleeing as stock sank

Deep sleep slipping
Into the cosmos of the sandman,
My body floats into a world
Where my imagination runs
Through hills,
I stand singing on a comet
And dancing
Along the milky way,
Riding on Saturn’s rings

As I jump out into the ether,
Just to find I don’t fall. I fly.
Sightseeing among the stars, I’m blinded.
It is morning.

Angels
fairy tales
nursery rhymes

Parents
and Teachers
make kids believe

Their souls
now recite
Que Sera Sera....

One can see the cubed orange lights on the street
Each with an ambulatory head with dressings
Which leak from the solemnity of their stabbed tongues
Each bearing a communion wafer
Each bored by their jester caps
And the only times their mouths open
Is when you’ve gotten sleepy
and their bells ring

midnight
bell tower
gong bang delight

trolleys
twirl waltz time
in moonbeam bright

High sky
piccolo
sings lullaby

sewer
viola
steam minor key

poet’s
candle-lit
orchestra pit

Sadness
Feels like crap
In this sunken place

Joyless
Is as a
withered dead rose

Spiritless
Have no zeal
Under dark clouds
—-
The sunsets
And it rises
Both are beautiful

Storms rage
Hides the sun
Nature just waits

Roses
Strives and grows
Strong among thorns

Way back in my days of football
I'd don my pads and play the game
and think that I'd given my all
but now I know it's not the same.
Football never left me lame
nor made me answer reaper's call.

Then later in the free market
I'd " fight" for my market share.
In hindsight it hardly meant a single thing.
Day's end found me in my easy chair
all of my body parts still there
no war nightmares making my head ring.

Ajar
doors and lives
of innocents

Litter
soft and dear
strewn by monster

Revenge
is certain
but will not heal