Friday, August 31, 2007
Sphinx
the Sphinx reclines
in mute repose
masses ache
for what it knows . .
the lonely monarch
of the sands
bears the tale
for which it stands . .
a stone enigma
worn by time
laid by sinners
line by line . .
the secrets held
in granite tombed
were there when Pharoahs
power loomed . .
1978
in mute repose
masses ache
for what it knows . .
the lonely monarch
of the sands
bears the tale
for which it stands . .
a stone enigma
worn by time
laid by sinners
line by line . .
the secrets held
in granite tombed
were there when Pharoahs
power loomed . .
1978
Blue-eyed Sky
. . . .on a sun-smitten day,
all windywarm,
a blue-eyed blue-skyed day,
i recalled those times
before the animal of envy,
and thoughtless curiosity
sneaked up and nipped you
just enough to infect you
with the venom
of willfulness and disdain
into your unbridled spirit. . .
1974
all windywarm,
a blue-eyed blue-skyed day,
i recalled those times
before the animal of envy,
and thoughtless curiosity
sneaked up and nipped you
just enough to infect you
with the venom
of willfulness and disdain
into your unbridled spirit. . .
1974
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Monday, August 27, 2007
Triangulation 2002
Triangulation 2002
the bridge of dreams that spans the gap
of the mirrors of the mind
a floating tunnel of time and memory
a trailing lapse of thought
a credenza of taste and longing
from the depth of what once was
and still is the bridge of dreams
made of the sparkling shards
and broken reflections
of that immortal mirror.
composed in 2003
Sunday, August 26, 2007
the dreaming pipe of peace
Araphahos and all the tribes
had the smoke of dreams
they took the peacepipe everywhere
and planned their mystic schemes
the magic smoke was given
north, south, east, and west
to the sky and earth below
all were scented and were blessed
the pipe was like a catalyst
between the real and dreams
the smoke was like a vehicle
where nothing the way it seems
they rode their ponies far and wide
spirits in the wind
ever changing shape and sound
with only time to spend
the calumet was passed
among the people huddled low
the wheel of knowledge rolling
in the campfire burning slow
1980
had the smoke of dreams
they took the peacepipe everywhere
and planned their mystic schemes
the magic smoke was given
north, south, east, and west
to the sky and earth below
all were scented and were blessed
the pipe was like a catalyst
between the real and dreams
the smoke was like a vehicle
where nothing the way it seems
they rode their ponies far and wide
spirits in the wind
ever changing shape and sound
with only time to spend
the calumet was passed
among the people huddled low
the wheel of knowledge rolling
in the campfire burning slow
1980
The sailorman
sailorman, sailorman,
the worlds at your feet
moving through your wid'ning space
beyond the tethered fleet. . .
sailorman, sailorman,
the wind is in your face
slipping all your moorings
from the dull and commonplace. . .
sailorman, sailorman,
the tillers in your hand
heel away from discontent
sail away from land. . .
sailorman, sailorman,
find the better tack
the futures off your bow
and the winds against your back. ..
sailorman, sailorman,
ride the daring wind
another time will come your way
a time that your can spend. . .
1978
sailing alone
the worlds at your feet
moving through your wid'ning space
beyond the tethered fleet. . .
sailorman, sailorman,
the wind is in your face
slipping all your moorings
from the dull and commonplace. . .
sailorman, sailorman,
the tillers in your hand
heel away from discontent
sail away from land. . .
sailorman, sailorman,
find the better tack
the futures off your bow
and the winds against your back. ..
sailorman, sailorman,
ride the daring wind
another time will come your way
a time that your can spend. . .
1978
sailing alone
Friday, August 24, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Lost Camelot
midnight purple
halcyon haze
the dragon steals
the swordsman slays
sky of amethyst
purple haze
the wizard heals
the jester plays
mossy green
the castle halls
steeds of white
tied in stalls
dank and dark
the castle walls
armor dull
the hammer falls
1977
halcyon haze
the dragon steals
the swordsman slays
sky of amethyst
purple haze
the wizard heals
the jester plays
mossy green
the castle halls
steeds of white
tied in stalls
dank and dark
the castle walls
armor dull
the hammer falls
1977
The King of the Sun
the Aztecs revered
the yellow sun
which was their wealth,
their gold was only art,
i love the burning heat
surging from the sky,
rebirth is symbolized,
as a giant golden womb,
the Aztecs believed
that glowing orb
caused everthing to live,
every day to start,
i know a spirit lives
in that mystic ball
golden light all my life
golden fire my tomb.
1977
the yellow sun
which was their wealth,
their gold was only art,
i love the burning heat
surging from the sky,
rebirth is symbolized,
as a giant golden womb,
the Aztecs believed
that glowing orb
caused everthing to live,
every day to start,
i know a spirit lives
in that mystic ball
golden light all my life
golden fire my tomb.
1977
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
Moonpress
i am the knower of much
but the teller of little
i am the bringer of much
but the leaver of little
i am the taker of much
but the giver of little
i am the fist of the moon
i am the bringer of wind
i am the rising tide
and am to to be reckoned with
now and forever. . .
2007
but the teller of little
i am the bringer of much
but the leaver of little
i am the taker of much
but the giver of little
i am the fist of the moon
i am the bringer of wind
i am the rising tide
and am to to be reckoned with
now and forever. . .
2007
Giraffes
and i have dreamed again
of giraffes,
longlimbed, angular,
moonlight-mottled apparitions
come to stalk my mind as i sleep;
they walk to me from abstract clouds,
in brown and yellow varigations
and lick my face
with long and slender tongues,
and peacefully gaze at me beneath
long and tender lashes,
that shelter eyes , as dark and limpid as pools of oil;
they walk about and nod their heads
as if in silent agreement
that they mean no harm,
then silently walk away
still nodding heads in quiet dignity. . .
October 1973
of giraffes,
longlimbed, angular,
moonlight-mottled apparitions
come to stalk my mind as i sleep;
they walk to me from abstract clouds,
in brown and yellow varigations
and lick my face
with long and slender tongues,
and peacefully gaze at me beneath
long and tender lashes,
that shelter eyes , as dark and limpid as pools of oil;
they walk about and nod their heads
as if in silent agreement
that they mean no harm,
then silently walk away
still nodding heads in quiet dignity. . .
October 1973
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
six point two miles
the moving cloud
the rising sun
the reaching
for the self
the coming wind
the want for air
the denying
is the finding
of the self
1984
the rising sun
the reaching
for the self
the coming wind
the want for air
the denying
is the finding
of the self
1984
recognizance
sometimes
i get so smart
i recognize my
ignorance,
all alone
back there
behind my ego
hulking in boredom,
or maybe just
hibernation,
waiting for
the smell
of curiosity
to awaken it.
1983
i get so smart
i recognize my
ignorance,
all alone
back there
behind my ego
hulking in boredom,
or maybe just
hibernation,
waiting for
the smell
of curiosity
to awaken it.
1983
Monday, August 20, 2007
Emotion control
sudden anger
over naught
is emotion
overspent. . .
angry words
sudden swallowed
is surely time
well pent. . .
1991
over naught
is emotion
overspent. . .
angry words
sudden swallowed
is surely time
well pent. . .
1991
Dogs-Cats
cats smile
dogs laugh
cats slink
dogs gallop
cats nap
dogs crash
cats nibble
dogs devour
cats sneer
dogs apologize
cats gaze
dogs see
cats disappear
dogs run off
cats are astral
dogs are earthy
1992
dogs laugh
cats slink
dogs gallop
cats nap
dogs crash
cats nibble
dogs devour
cats sneer
dogs apologize
cats gaze
dogs see
cats disappear
dogs run off
cats are astral
dogs are earthy
1992
Sunday, August 19, 2007
study in contrast
ten times a lover
in the middle of the night,
as tough as any nail
throughout the day,
ten times a lover,
when we hold each other tight,
as cold as any iceberg,
if she doesn't want to play.
ten times a lover,
when we're all alone at home
as distant as a comet,
inside another zone of time
ten times a lover,
in the Texas blue white sky,
as cool as any music
that made you swing and sway.
June 1982
,
in the middle of the night,
as tough as any nail
throughout the day,
ten times a lover,
when we hold each other tight,
as cold as any iceberg,
if she doesn't want to play.
ten times a lover,
when we're all alone at home
as distant as a comet,
inside another zone of time
ten times a lover,
in the Texas blue white sky,
as cool as any music
that made you swing and sway.
June 1982
,
Bluestrain
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubles, back to back. . .
ain't it sad, ain't it sad,
how a cloud can turn to rain,
ain't it sad, ain't it sad,
how a cloud can turn to rain,
black and blue all over
and your world turned into pain. . .
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubles, back to back. . .
it ain't right, it ain't right,
how a womans mind can turn,
it ain't right, it ain't right,
how a womans mind can turn,
she lit your mortal fire
and made your poor heart burn. . .
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubles, back to back. ..
it ain't fair, it ain't fair,
how that woman treated me,
it ain't fair, it ain't fair,
how that woman treated me,
she run off with a hound dog
with a fancy pedigree. . .
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubless, back to back. . .
2007
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubles, back to back. . .
ain't it sad, ain't it sad,
how a cloud can turn to rain,
ain't it sad, ain't it sad,
how a cloud can turn to rain,
black and blue all over
and your world turned into pain. . .
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubles, back to back. . .
it ain't right, it ain't right,
how a womans mind can turn,
it ain't right, it ain't right,
how a womans mind can turn,
she lit your mortal fire
and made your poor heart burn. . .
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubles, back to back. ..
it ain't fair, it ain't fair,
how that woman treated me,
it ain't fair, it ain't fair,
how that woman treated me,
she run off with a hound dog
with a fancy pedigree. . .
bluestrain rollin' down the track,
blues are pourin' from its stack,
filled with troubless, back to back. . .
2007
bring it on
bring to me your smiling face,
your gentle moves,
your liquid grace. . .
bring to me your falling sighs,
your glowing hands,
your shining eyes. . .
bring to me your skin so fair,
your lilting voice,
your vibrant hair. . .
bring to me your magic mind,
your soulful touch,
your soft behind. . .
bring to me your your magic mouth,
your drawled out words,
your touch of South. . .
1977
your gentle moves,
your liquid grace. . .
bring to me your falling sighs,
your glowing hands,
your shining eyes. . .
bring to me your skin so fair,
your lilting voice,
your vibrant hair. . .
bring to me your magic mind,
your soulful touch,
your soft behind. . .
bring to me your your magic mouth,
your drawled out words,
your touch of South. . .
1977
Saturday, August 18, 2007
a strangers kiss
i used to guess
if it tasted like this,
i never knew until
i had a strangers kiss,
i never knew
what was amiss,
until i had
a strangers kiss,
you said your name
was Merry Bliss
but i never knew
until i had your kiss,
shining eyes
smiling kiss,
surely you're
my Nemesis,
my life was
my (parenthesis)
until i had a
strangers kiss.
1973
if it tasted like this,
i never knew until
i had a strangers kiss,
i never knew
what was amiss,
until i had
a strangers kiss,
you said your name
was Merry Bliss
but i never knew
until i had your kiss,
shining eyes
smiling kiss,
surely you're
my Nemesis,
my life was
my (parenthesis)
until i had a
strangers kiss.
1973
January hearts
underneath the leaded sky
the rollered cold lies dead . . .
wintered nights are weighted down
and dreary days we dread
dragging cold like anchor chain . . .
the trudging people creep
icicles hang on haggard hearts
like pain that they must keep . . .
The winter of 1979
the rollered cold lies dead . . .
wintered nights are weighted down
and dreary days we dread
dragging cold like anchor chain . . .
the trudging people creep
icicles hang on haggard hearts
like pain that they must keep . . .
The winter of 1979
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Silent people
all along the avenue
the silent people stand
their eyes are ice
their ears are iron
they all sit on their hands
all along the avenue
the quiet people stand
their tongues are still
their mouths are closed
they all fear reprimands
all along the avenue
the puzzled people stand
their minds are flat
their hearts are lost
they all await commands
1971
the silent people stand
their eyes are ice
their ears are iron
they all sit on their hands
all along the avenue
the quiet people stand
their tongues are still
their mouths are closed
they all fear reprimands
all along the avenue
the puzzled people stand
their minds are flat
their hearts are lost
they all await commands
1971
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
The brewery is a jungle. . . .
. . . .amid the clanging howls
of bell and gear,
the center of the
stainless steel jungle
trembles in its flow
of activity, sniffing, snorting,
sounds are heard
and the sudden scream of the trapped ones
who abide here in reluctance;
the steam
floats in multi-colored whorls
and hovers just above
the puddled water,
it is the jungle,
dark and wet in its underbelly,
hot as the Congo in places
hot and dry in others
(florescent sunshine)
the screech and whine of conveyor
simulates the cry of the hunted
and the hunter alike.
Part two.
. . . behold the bottle soaker
awake now at break of day,
the mammoth machine
shakes and stirs
then stops, reluctant to run,
but slowly unwinds itself from sleep,
finally is pushed and prodded,
goaded and urged
until it belches forth
a covey, a brace, a flock
of thousands of shiny wet brown bottles
her young yet to be filled with
frothy brew for the thirsty natives.
1976
of bell and gear,
the center of the
stainless steel jungle
trembles in its flow
of activity, sniffing, snorting,
sounds are heard
and the sudden scream of the trapped ones
who abide here in reluctance;
the steam
floats in multi-colored whorls
and hovers just above
the puddled water,
it is the jungle,
dark and wet in its underbelly,
hot as the Congo in places
hot and dry in others
(florescent sunshine)
the screech and whine of conveyor
simulates the cry of the hunted
and the hunter alike.
Part two.
. . . behold the bottle soaker
awake now at break of day,
the mammoth machine
shakes and stirs
then stops, reluctant to run,
but slowly unwinds itself from sleep,
finally is pushed and prodded,
goaded and urged
until it belches forth
a covey, a brace, a flock
of thousands of shiny wet brown bottles
her young yet to be filled with
frothy brew for the thirsty natives.
1976
Monday, August 13, 2007
The Measure of Learning
quail not,
in perduous times of redacity
and trincitation of eation,
when seething mancithenia
may seem to grasp
your heart
as well as your mind:
hold to your thorthitudes
as you would your prostagines,
for they are key to
all your varied dorquates,
remember, there is always
a mouth like a gun
aimed into your ear,
a voice like a saw on a nail,
and eye like a bullet,
and a mind that is thin as a rail,
and a hand with a skin
like milk in a pail. . . .
1973
and trincitation of eation,
when seething mancithenia
may seem to grasp
your heart
as well as your mind:
hold to your thorthitudes
as you would your prostagines,
for they are key to
all your varied dorquates,
remember, there is always
a mouth like a gun
aimed into your ear,
a voice like a saw on a nail,
and eye like a bullet,
and a mind that is thin as a rail,
and a hand with a skin
like milk in a pail. . . .
1973
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Migration
red sun this morning
Texas navel orange,
popped from the eastern sky
like rolling ground fire,
the brewery
on Cotton Street
looms just ahead,
steaming vapor clad
and painted sunrise red,
the cool September breeze wafts across my brow
it ruffles through my hair,
a flock of yankee birds
overhead,
fly south to warmer climes.
1973
Texas navel orange,
popped from the eastern sky
like rolling ground fire,
the brewery
on Cotton Street
looms just ahead,
steaming vapor clad
and painted sunrise red,
the cool September breeze wafts across my brow
it ruffles through my hair,
a flock of yankee birds
overhead,
fly south to warmer climes.
1973
Friday, August 10, 2007
languishing times
twisted hopes
and tangled ropes
have turned my mind around,
memorizing stunted lies
have brought me hard aground. . .
half-felt
empty memories
of jaded nights gone by
warned by everlasting light
and never asking why. . .
spider web
and tide at ebb
these things are mine to see
persistent vagaries of thought
and trying hard to leave. . .
far out fiddlers
marching by
with violins unstrung
singing some forgotten hymn
i never had heard sung. . .
1975
and tangled ropes
have turned my mind around,
memorizing stunted lies
have brought me hard aground. . .
half-felt
empty memories
of jaded nights gone by
warned by everlasting light
and never asking why. . .
spider web
and tide at ebb
these things are mine to see
persistent vagaries of thought
and trying hard to leave. . .
far out fiddlers
marching by
with violins unstrung
singing some forgotten hymn
i never had heard sung. . .
1975
Thursday, August 09, 2007
dreamer in Pisces
to swim in waters
unmolested
slick and quick
among silver-flashing others
to look up
and see the sun. . .
an orb all crazy-green
and filtered
by the waves
that topple and fall
in filigree and wash. . .
and underneath
the sun-chequered ceiling
of the silent sea,
to swim in waters
dark and cool. . .
march of 1975
unmolested
slick and quick
among silver-flashing others
to look up
and see the sun. . .
an orb all crazy-green
and filtered
by the waves
that topple and fall
in filigree and wash. . .
and underneath
the sun-chequered ceiling
of the silent sea,
to swim in waters
dark and cool. . .
march of 1975
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Lower Recalcitrantia
Upper and Lower Recalcitrantia is separated by the Defiance River
in a hot and dusty part of the world
The people of Upper R look exactly
like the people of Lower R
the names of their God sound similar
the names of their holiest books sound similar
their wear similar religious scullcaps
circumcision is part of their religion
they have similar diet restrictions
yet they hate each other
and have done so forever
it is a ridiculous
way to exist
Birthday poem
meek and mild the animal man
got no worry got no plan
ain't no tiger ain't no lynx
gets my thrills from pens and inks. . .
strange and wild the animal man
a member of a different clan
ain't no lion ain't no bear
got myself a comfy lair. . .
on this day i'm forty-two
i found myself but sure lost you. . .
March 8 1978
got no worry got no plan
ain't no tiger ain't no lynx
gets my thrills from pens and inks. . .
strange and wild the animal man
a member of a different clan
ain't no lion ain't no bear
got myself a comfy lair. . .
on this day i'm forty-two
i found myself but sure lost you. . .
March 8 1978