mince courage
liquid sheer

here is the roundel rib
the bulb shard light
fingering the dark

jackals and jeckyl
lurching and the wall
the wall hurts

the window is full

full of tears
the fuel of fear
licking bruises
the scream
is long

as long as the
hall is lonely

and in the garage
sweet perfume of
exhaust
and purring cylinders

swirl
coma
collage

even sleep has an element of time,
for you just awake
after a short and sweet
slumber
and
then you enter
into a no -time zone
if you don't rise again...

till then sleep
and
un-sleep
as usual,
till dreams do over take,
as you enter the timelessness zone
and
about that there is
absolutely,
no mistake.

till then sleep
and
if you desire awake
when the
spirit! is ready
it will come
and
it shall you finally
on its wings take...

FREE FALL

Wingéd creatures
were we all
tumbling vertiginously
into free Fall.
Bound by sin to dust
suffering is our “must.”
Dreams of Holy Kingdom.
Sleep and fly
into oblivion.

A little branch just running free
through a lowland hardwood hollow
is all I ever thought to be
unaware of what would follow
all of it in nature's way

But then one day the beavers came
from a slightly larger creek downstream
since then things are not the same
my wild free days became a dream
fate took me, now, another way

For soon the beavers built a pond
my wandering days were over
but by suprise I soon grew fond
of watching the blue cranes fly over
on their way to who could say?

Dunhold, strewn across the green of wooded vale and hill serene
was like a casket for a maid, with bushes lush and flowers laid.
Her tip would touch the valley's edge where rivers bent in sickle wedge,
her crown would tickle heaven's sky above the perch where eagles fly.

Hello, welcome to St Peter’s Inn
Yes, hello reservation for one
Under paul, the paradise suite

Hello Paul welcome to eternity
Let’s see if your on level four
Or the cold basement rooms

Saint Peter, I think there’s a mistake
My room is definitely on level four
Paul the book says basement

No there’s got to be some mix up
I followed the get to level four manual
This is not right saint Peter

Unforgiven
--
Over my face, my hat hung low
to hide the side a few would know
drinkin' in uncandle lit space
my hat hung low over my face
-
justice was lost and justice done
I owned a pound and lost a ton
no outlaw saw the lawman's cost
justice done and justice lost
-
a woman's love, the trump card held
of twenty men, eighteen were felled
I stood wounded as did Jack Cove
the trump card held, a woman's love
-
through gunsmoke and blood, my eyes saw

O Beautiful Earth, very good morning to you
This is my first song on you

This is how I sing this song
And this is the place where I belong

I love this place, suitable to play
Which has an endless bay

You cover this, with a blanket
Where I can junket with joy

I grew wild without any source
But you nourished me with all your resources

Buds turn to green leaves in spring
And the twittering birds sing

This shows the dawn of an era
And it is also the beginning of a new year

When you look at me like that what do you see? I don't get how perfect you could love plain old me.

But you've been there for me rose and thorn. only you can fix me when my worlds been torn.

you love me now and you'll love me then. if this is what love feels like i don't want it to end.

you complete me and make me whole. you're like a a favorite song that never gets old.

your love is a whole new experience for me. every time i see you i can eel my heart beat.

and somewhere deep in side me I've always know that all that shines doesn't have to be gold.

cornfield billows
tossing tresses nonchalant
a silky wind

...

shiney umbellas
drip slicked-back rainbow puddles
in shades, neon

...

spare room memories
clusters of junk, love-nesting
immemorial

...

a bird extends wings
flight happens, naturally
I must try, flap flop

...

insight distilled
from vats to vial potent
pocket poems

...

frog in a pond
so what! I'd rather be in
Philadelphia

...