zap!

take down- turn around
run away - and hide. . .
right now- heres how
Magic Carpet ride. . .

think fast- times past
lonely- as a cloud. . .
like wow- go now
leave that empty crowd. . .

1997

blue on blue- #2

blue on blue
sky at dawning
widespread day
awake and yawning
blue on blue
treetops glowing
reach across the
greenness growing
blue on blue
sky at nooning
effervescent
clouds are swooning
blue on blue
heat waves wielding
whitehot heat
remains unyielding

1977

Apache dancer

Henri Broussard, Mont-Martre, France 1961

Checkmate end

when
the
game of chess
has ended,
the Kings and Pawns
are
returned
to the same box.

our future
is nowhere

. . . . .

it is
now here

. . . . .

2007

full moon rush

it is a startling dash
into the night
and into the light and quizzical
lapse of bliss,
into qui-sah-nah-noh,
where blurred and righteous chances
of violet, blue, and ultramarine
come shining through like
a turned-on rhapsody
in a warm and wonderful
place beyond here,
but not away from
this place of farout findings
and of unlost peace and quiet
from a mystic sound
of cobalt thunder
shot from the midnight cannon
in the clouds,
by a djinn from a flying cloud of dusty sand.

1977

The Magic Pipe

1977

Bayfront Parkway

exiting the common fray
i slowly trot my simple way
telling no one where i go
like the tide i ebb and flow
by myself i never run
with me always wind and sun
the bayshore sidewalk is my trail
the stones are silent cold and pale
jogging toward a distant point
as i sweat i self-anoint
i move along inside my cloud
footsteps sounding out aloud
a constant smash of wave on rock
on timber sand and concrete block
my feet are sturdy as i lope
upon this gentle sidewalk slope
i run a circle out and back
i think of nothing i might lack
my steady pace takes me on
toward my private Rubicon
i run my treadmill all alone
my abstract thoughts remain unknown.

December 2003

Junctures

must be forgot
the things we said
or all the things we did?

so much life
has broached the span
and seeped into my id.

should i lose track
or sight of times
gone by 'til mem'rys blurred?

or slip along
in quiet muse
and let my speech be slurred?

so what is past
be unforgot
and kept in special thought.

let the days and nights
be saved and no experience of life
be had for naught.

2003

Blue Medusa

2007

the mongrel man. . .

a lonesome howl was all they heard
when the mongrel man ran off
a cloud of blue was all they saw
of the fleeing philosophe

a fleeting glance was all he gave
when the aging freak took out
a haunting smile was all they got
when he left this wherabout

a long low laugh was all they heard
when he disappeared from sight
pages torn from the book of life
when the mongrel man took flight

a sudden chill was all they felt
when he closed the door behind him
his memory was all but lost
and the law would never find him

1977

. . .wind gust on the lake

scary as the truth may be
empty as a lie
coming down the southern air
with a nickel-plated eye

slipping through the aftermath
narrow as a thread
holding on to hopeless chance
with a sly and stealthsome tread

cracking like a thunderbolt
silver-cobalt streak
coming through the open void
astride a highblown shriek

wilder than a hurricane
honest as a stone
ripping like a razorblade
that just came off a hone

1977

the greenhouse

The greenhouse
is the
Fortress
of
Solitude













Longview,
Texas
1977

time and remembrance

i am the wind
that murmurs in your hair,

i am the sun
upon the path you tread,

i am the scent
that lingers in the air,

i am the dark
that shadows what you dread,

i am the cloud
that wafts across your skies,

i am the moon
that glows before your eyes,

i am the rain
that mingles with your tears,

i am the times
that turn into the years.

2002

. . . .if you see me.

if you see me sitting
gazing at the sky,
i might be seeing
blue-on-blue,
and contemplating why.

if you see me sitting
quietly alone,
leave me in my solitude
sometimes
i'm not at home.

if you see me sitting
staring into space,
please don't bother asking
if i'm in
another place.

1976

The Blue Angulls

The seagulls of Sanders Beach have learned much
watching the Blues as they buzz the Yacht Club.

2007

the gull

she seems to hang,
suspended by a thread,
her wingtips tremble
then curve
and down she drops
lika bolt to the sea,
she skirts the wavetops
for luckless fish
cast up by
churning tidal current,
finding none
she lays back on the landbreeze,
and lets it lift her
skyward once again.

Surfside, Texas
1991

The passing parade

i was sittin' in the parlor
drinkin' the governor's tea,
i felt sorta funny
a woman was starin' at me,
i asked what the trouble was
she said she just didn't know,
when i looked out the window
i knew it was fixin' to snow,
the icy-cold princess
had jumped in her wagon and fled,
all her possessions
were cramped up inside of her head,
guns and Diogenes
could never correct all this mess,
and the last bus to Dallas
rumbled off in seeming distress,
the streetsweeper giggled
as he bent down and picked up a dime,
and stashed it away
to blow at some other time
i sat there so numbly
i had been sorely mislead,
she's back here again
i know she's burned up her gas,
but i've run out of money
and drank all the beer in my glass,
the town's biggest fool
is yellin like some kind of loon,
he's lost his connections
and laments for his lost silver spoon,
i just sat there staring
counting the years i had lost,
scattered behind me
like confetti carelessly tossed,
the lost-beat gambler
sit with his aces and eights,
confused and upset
beaten by Jokers and straights,
he looked at my misery
and smiled through his shiny gold mouth,
take it or leave it
its called the song of the south,

1973

We are Pisceans

Welcome Pisceans
to the first day
of Pisces
from planet Meemur
where all people
are Piscean natured

February 19, 2007

vision quest

. . . .lumpy purple horizon
smears of uneven strokes
wave on wave of yellow ochre
sparse wintergrass
with aromatic pinons
and gravel
mixed igneous with slate

and standing high
above this scene
cold and clear and clean
an endless sky of blue
untarnished by the greed of man. . . .

Sangre De Christos Mountains
New Mexico
1999

East Texas Haikus

flowers in a row
colors of my ancient soul
similar in like
. . . . .
birdcalls of morning
you must listen to hear them
busy folks are deaf
. . . . .
white cumulus clouds
summer afternoon display
towering columns
. . . . .
egrets of evening
flying their family vees
studying the sun
. . . . .
the chameleon
remembers past lives of warmth
in the blazing sun
. . . . .
the colorist sits
and sees it all moving through
his shining image
. . . . .

August 15, 1998

The strange sky

daysailors

birds of water
flying low
before the wind
their heels to show

wings are spread
as white as snow
in silent flight
they come and go

birds of water
on the blue
clouds of silence
moving through

timeless shadows
sail away
blue-on-blue
like Claude Monet

1983

Storm Warning

rising from cobalt blue,
a billowing, bulky near anathema,
dressed in black over gray,
with jagged electric blue pinstripes
irregularly stitched in flame,
the approach of the giant
is unsilent, heralded by the
explosive breath of animal
intensity and bomburst sound,
split clean and sharp
through the twilight darkening;
shrieking winds scream,
terror laden ,
from horizon to lip of faroff hill,
cold air comes hanging in
from its lofty habitat.

2005
Just before the Gulfcoast storm

The Helmsman

2007

To a Chihuahua

bright falling, warm bringing,
daytime sun, at last you come,
the windowdog sleeps
finally warm beneath your heated breath,
and under the spell
of your wizardly attack,
her Aztec master predecessors
like wraithes do haunt her still,
she dreams of pyramids
and feathered robes,
of Great Quetzalcoatl
and the flying serpent
before the blinding bright gold ball,
the blazing sun of Montezuma.

A January morning
1976

Lord hear my prayer

give me time to think upon
the people here, the people gone,
those who strayed
when things got tough,
those who stayed
when things got rough.

give me time to dream along
the people right, the people wrong,
those who lied
and ran away,
those who cried
but would not stay.

give me time to stop and add
the people good, the people bad,
those with hate,
and filled with fear,
those with love
and filled with cheer.

Christmas Day 1977

Rebound

Rebound 2006

Gone

i don't know who to see,
i don't know where to go,
and don't know what to do,

it seems that all i ever did
was everything with you,

you're gone, you're gone,
its over, done, we're through,
you're gone, you're gone,
i hate it but its true,

but i'm still havin' trouble
gettin' gone from you. . .

2005

the circles of Circe

the circles of Circe hang without mercy,
to trap the voyager's souls,
orbe'd to the heavens
they float
to a dizzying height,
the Witch of the sea
ignores every plea,
she knows all
are common and sleight,
the orbs up above
and the circles below
are counterpoints linked
to one another and synced
in a strange magnetic array.

2007

the circles of Circe 2007

Blue on blue

Sailorman, sailorman,
smart as you can be
people stop and look at you
when you sail yor private sea,

sailorman, sailorman,
off upon a spree
only just a step ahead
of those who don't agree,

sailorman, sailorman,
so happy and so free
sailing over blue-on-blue
full of jeu d'sprit,

sailorman, sailorman,
you don't have to flee
your hideaway is your boat
that sails the deep blue sea.

1977

Cats heading for Bayou Chico

2006

Dawn

High above these walls of iron
in purpleshaded mist,
i stand in awe
of coloring sky,
my mental eye transfixed;
the sun all red and throbbing orange,
slowly starts to rise
into warm and gratefull arms
of pink and purple skies.
. . . . . . . .
Daybreak from the
roof of the brewhouse
Longview, Texas
Saturday morning
July, 1977

Sepia Twist

i guess i
tried
too hard
to climb a
rainbow
from the
sea to
the sky
that
ended
in a
sepia
twist
of
fate.

Surfside,

Texas

1975

Marathon

roads and miles
days and hours
times of sweat
of sweets and sours

sky and sun
abstract shapes
moving thoughts
and mental shapes

body aches
and muscle pains
cooling balm
of autumn rains

treading slowly
building power
mile by mile
hour by hour

Marathon,
you beckon me
my Juggernaut
i come to thee

Training for White Rock Marathon
Dallas, Texas
November 1990

Demise of Summer

october sunday morning rain
in pools and puddles falls,

slanting down in cold gray skies
leaves sail by in chilly squalls,

leaden clouds sink and lower down,
in heavy weather curtain calls,

mudslick trails and sodden tracks
amid the fragrant forest halls,

i run and breathe the cold sweet air
and feel as if on Olympus' height,

where ran great Zeus and all the gods
with their noble women to delight.

1990

Loading kegbeer on a pallet

1992

Full Moon Blues

excuse while i do
the things i want to do,
but i kmow someday
i gotta pay my dues,
so i just go on thinkin'
'bout those awful
dirty lowdown ugly
lonsome payday blues,
i've got the hateful rotten,
lord i'm sorry,
misery loves company,
i can't forget you,
don't wanta live without you,
down and dirty,
lonesome midnight,
full moon blues .

1983

The Red Boots

2006

All a dream

one puff of kif will make a man
as strong as a thousand camels,
as wise as the Caliph,
and have the imagination
of all the Jinns
ever released

2005

Thoughts from my greenhouse

dulcet morning, end of night
all is verdant in my sight,
a spider's magic silvered web
adieu the moon in lunar ebb,
flaked out flurries in fast retreat
they melt away from merging heat,
wondrous moments to be seen
all these shades of morning green,
January howls outside
ice on panes begins to slide,
beyond this glass is freezing sleet
but warm and green in my retreat.

1-1-1990
in the greenhouse

Prismatron

2007

My pony

once i had a pony he was young
and he was strong,
he and i went everywhere
no distance was too long,

we spent long years in Texas
and sampled many things,
trotting in and out of love
as if on magic wings,

we never aged it seemed
just loped along forever
living days and loving nights
and never saying never,

being low and getting high
a different Lancelot,
i rode that pony every day
through rainbowed Camelot,

he is still my gallant steed
and we remember all,
the wildly righteous years we rode
across that Texas sprawl.

2007

Transparency

trailing glimpses left to see
the hidden darker side of me,

chancey moments sometimes tell
last enigmas why they dwell,

rolling mem'rys pass me by
all but teardrops left my eye,

daring all within my sight
upon my road of day and night.

1981

electric beethoven

Computer
drawing
2007

Balmy

balmy morning
balmy night
balmy until
all things get right,

balmy evening
balmy day
balmy in your
special way,

balmy midnight
balmy noon
balmy under
'neath the moon,

balmy winter
balmy spring
balmy with
your everything.

1990

off-center

when given a number
of things i must do
i criddle and craddle
i widdle and i woo,

whenever i take
a long look around
i diddle and daddle
i triddle and tround,

when given a view
a thing that is wrong
i hiddle and haddle
i zingle and zong,

whenever i'm told
that enough is enough
i giddle and gaddle
i hough and i pough,

1977

Mardi Gras Madness

1988

After Ivan roared all night

Midnight slider,
rollin' wide,
come on a wave,
leave on the tide.

fearsome rider,
high astride,
mount of thunder,
awful- eyed,

lightning pony
black-white hide,
blew all night
will not subside.

fearless warrior
wild inside
blazes arrows
stride for stride.

came a howler,
came a rain,
came a midnight
hurricane.

East Hill,
Pensacola

The Road of Days

road of days
miles so long
some are right
some are wrong. .
road of days
endless line
all those freaky
friends of mine. .
road of days
time well spent
don't care if
i came or went. .

there are many ways
on the road of days.

1976

Dreamslider

ride a comet,
ride a star,
tell no stranger
who you are,

paint a rainbow,
paint a cloud,
don't go near
that brutish crowd,

days are thoughts,
nights are dreams,
life is never
what it seems,

fly the sunset,
fly the moon,
have those times
that end too soon,

its all a quilt
of patchwork lines
a canvas smeared
with vital signs.

1977

Blue Bistro

1990

Viewpoint

life is a trotting dog
with a fat bone in its mouth,
the sunset at its back
the warmwind in its nose,
but stay outta traffic
unless you're telepathic
since people driving cars
don't give a damn.

life is a swimming fish
with water in its gills,
the gulfstream behind it
riding on a wave,
but stay outta the surf
'cause its fisherman's turf,
its the last place
a lotta fishes swam.

Pensacola
2005

Confusion

the wornout man lay gasping
tired from being wrong,
tired of being walked upon
by a vain and thoughtless throng,

he crawls across his pages,
the book of life he wrote,
and wonders if his soul will pass
or like a fly be smote,

Did he write in vapid tint
or tears and blood for ink,
tightly locked in Fate's embrace
inside some mental kink,

for floods will come in every life
and fame and fortune too,
and on and on he takes his days
until his book is through.

1975