Possessing the Repossessed

in the midst of despair,
I rip out my heart and
give it to the blue birds
upon which to feast
since they are living
in my back yard;
hummingbirds flew
around the house
a time or two
as they were instructed,
but soon, had to eat
to build up lost energy;
cardinals sang to other
cardinals as my thoughts
were hurled up and into
the sky by creditors as all
that I once owned, now
belongs to other souls.

22Jul16

Selling Off

colors fold into the

day like fruit into

bowls of yogurt,

never eaten as they

are appreciated and

staged for attention;

colors,

still on the palette

harden

over time as artists

ponder the scenes

they want to paint,

with those

not on the list

being torn down

and resold to

foreigners

at bargain

basement prices.

22Jul16

Taking Up The Cause

the killer awake at dawn and put his shooting

clothes on, NRA approved once fees received:

a breakfast of champions he had with a little

Irish Coffee too with powder sniffed up his nose;

after kissing his wife and family goodbye,

he drove to a prearranged site to have a

prearranged meeting with himself;

the killer was taken to the morgue

where his brain was removed and stored

and his wife was billed for services rendered;

twenty years hence, we recall not the event

as much as the memory of what went down,

as many others have taken up the cause.

22Jul16

Death of Circumstance

a skylight of hope

 crashes to the ground 

alongside the 

funeral procession

as it marches 

to the grave,

to deposit the dead 

in deep holes

of affirmation;

the gathering crowd 

bears no resemblance 

to the dead, yet, 

they stand on corner

gawking like children

who saw 

more than they should;

with raised firearms, 

 scenarios are prepares

but no head 

for violence appears 

and a colorless 

day proceeds 

to the burial site.

22Jul16

Inconsequential

a wall of light
grayish blue color
appears in the sky
upon my awakening
as if I had no choice
in the selection today;
mind buoys sway
when thoughts surface
too quickly and no one
is around to capture
before disappearing;
rocker blockers live
within the abandoned
settlements of time's
linear movements as
nomads scavenge
for food left behind;
a wall of light is
diminished this day
but new ones are
provided as life
continues to be
inconsequential.

22Jul16

Time Stems

time curls in different

directions as life bends

in the turbulence of its passing;

too far over or

too far under

it bends unnecessarily so...

sometimes, casting

doubts and spells few

can acknowledge; but as we

surround ourselves with

the incompetence of trying

to understand it all, we

become vulnerable to its

supposedly and 

inconsequential random 

omnipotent powers.

20Jul16

Foes

the joy
within the joy
has become
less joyous
over time
as we
bend,
borrow,
and lend
our feelings
to those
with whom
we have
some
animosity.

20Jul16

Bitches

balancing
life's side effects,
we terminate
feelings
that dance
through the night,
like bitches
on a leash,
wishing
their masters
did not have
such a
weak soul.

20Jul16

Opening

we stand at the opening
of a door and want in,
screaming...
for some kind of attention
and recognition that
is always stuck,
it seems,
in the keyholes.

20Jul16

Bargains Made

our world
our bodies             for the good or bad
change                   but, they change regardless
                               and we
teasing                  accept those changes
with life                  by living
as we do
granting ourselves
immunity
when
appropriate
or
when we have been
limited.

20Jul16

Hidden

hidden feelings

drip like honey

onto life's biscuits

and draw flies

before the first

bite taken, and

should serve as

a reminder not to

wait too long

when preparing

answers to those

complex questions.

26Jun16

Acceptance

bricks in a fireplace

make me think of Poe

and all the screams

he created with

creative juxtaposition;

a master of

flawed reality,

he was,

leaving us

jumping to conclusions

as easily as

the deadliness of his

sadistic humor;

and, bound by

no creed of honor

from which we can speak,

too many lights

and shadows have been

created for us to return

to any semblance or

acceptance of normalcy.

26Jun16

Fall of Night

images of the death of Poseidon

permeate down through the

tar sands of the mind, hoping

to find solutions to the antiquated

thoughts and fixtures that hang

in suspended animation on the

ceramic tile ceiling of the mind's

rapidly deteriorating transit system;

fueled by necessity and creativity

and soaked in the rains of a better way,

winds of doubt and disbelief float

freely in the tangled words and

threads of an energetic moon light.

26Jun16

Casting Nets

it is not time that has

forsaken me,

but,

my own self...

it is not the control of

that I have felt,

but,

my own limitations;

and,

left to my own devices

have caste my

nets of blame

onto others

in the hopes of

using them to bait my

hooks of justification;

but,

how criminal my

own fears seem to be

and,

how pretty is

their indifference.

24Jun16

Early Mornings Rise

light protrudes through the skylight like

some phallic symbol memory of the previous day

and... I am left wondering

sitting in my chair,

drinking my poorly made morning coffee,

why I even feel this way...

images of nonsense drift comically by

as I reach out to touch none of them in particular

hoping to refresh my memories a little,

sensing the delay might be from lack of sleep,

and... not enough properly made coffee,

now regretting the pods left at home;

filled with the tremors of a sleepless night

and bowels that hardly ever move in the light,

I am left speculating...

as to why not a more comfortable chair

was not found,

hoping to stimulate my performance

as it were of that

which could not be found

without proper mercy and forgiveness,

and all of that, which made me bitter

until so late in my days when

so little time is now afforded me.

24Jun16

Bidding Wars

the limits of life fall

to the ground sometime

after sunset when all the

parking lots are full of

owner's cars whose lives

revolve around being

paid to do one's bidding

as no bidding is allowed

in between the walls of

business, commerce and

various regulated banks.

24Jun16

Fruits of the Vine

we hid our mental fortunes

in the decadent climate of

the sixties, risking it all

only costing our future lives,

and, little did we know that

one day we would know

what we wanted was fine...

so misguided and stupid

we were that it gave birth

to a generation of classic

souls whose only desire in

life is to drink wine and

accept the status quo when

they can remember it.

24Jun16

Jupiter's Death

in the valley of misconduct

we board our private jets and

sail away to our private resorts,

located on our private islands,

situated in private areas of the seas,

so that others can be restricted,

but, when we die... we are all

lead to believe we go similarly.

24Jun16

New Age Old

stone lays the foundation
of the fireplace,
rustic and quaint and
too old for modern tastes
as we have confined ourselves
to the new and brash,
unknowingly realizing
our own years will fall away
into the background or
into the boot of a Porsche
as our generation
drives off into the death
of its own event horizon.

24Jun16

The Color of Thought

hallucinations held captive in
lesser minds, live longer than
most who boast of deliverance,
rather than salvation, paying
tributes in ways we do not
understand or comprehend
when sitting in pews on Sundays;
still, we pray to the one and only
who is crafty as a box and we
sanction surrogates to keep
our lives from ruin, ironing out
the flaws that seem to always
get trapped in life's fabrics.

20Jun16

Delivering Dawn

fuzziness clouds judgement

reason on holiday

futile feeling lock our clarity

loneliness lives alone in

the hearts of the forsaken,

waiting to be buried

side-by-side their lost dreams,

and all we seem to care

about is whose turn it is to

take out the frigging garbage.

20Jun16

Lustful Living

shades of indifference
are pulled down
tight and secure,
we see nothing
know nothing, but
want everything
in a vain attempt
to be happy,
not understanding
that from
within it comes,
this happiness...

and is not a present
or a possession
but a state-of-mind
that can exist
and does exist
in all of us
and our environment
all the time; yet,
we foolishly seek
its counterpart,
hoping for some
kind of instant karma
that leaves us
rather empty instead.

20Jun16

Trivia

currents of time
journey past us
like wind blowing
at the seashore,
as if on some
special mission
too important to
share with us
mere mortals
until it is time
for the truth to
be known and
that there is
nothing we can
do to stop it.

20Jun16

Rumors

there is a rumor

going around

that life is not life

but just the

passing of time

in a strange land

in order that we

might have the right

memories when it

becomes our

time to die.

20Jun16

Night's Middle

in the middle of these nights

when sleep evades my soul,

I sit at this machine and write

my heart out as if I were a fool

to be doing so at this hour, but

I do pursue this venture on

these nights as if possessed

by some passing fancy that

is my my purpose to record

these insane alliances of ideas

on this white paper that scorches

the light into my eyes in such

a way that closing them tight

still prevents sleep from

seeking me out like lovers

who fail to connect at bars.

23Jun16

Fast Waters

through the fast waters

of life, we have sailed

the good life and then some,

I would have to say, but

on no shore did we land

did we remain to long

for fear of being entrenched

in its politics, and onward

we sailed on rough and

calm seas alike and all

the waters look alike

over time even those

the fish and catch was

never the same and never

sold at market for the same price;

still, we knew the day would

arrive, like the arrival of

the moon and stars,

blocking out our sun

on final time.

23Jun16

Ridiculed

tormented souls

we all are,

us thieves, who

steal the thoughts

of others too

shallow to

record them themselves,

so, we are,

in a way,

duty bound,

to write and record

their futile attempts

at thoughts and words,

vaguely describing

their whereabouts

on those day

on which

the most importance

lies deep within

their minds,

but which refuses

to appear or

even reappear

if thought before

for fear of

being ridiculed.

23Jun16

It Once Burned Bright

within the hollows of the night

illuminated sight restored

sharp eyes do I now have

to perceive the threat

consuming me with doubts...

so many restless doubts

that curb my appetite

for this life that burns so

brightly inside me...

or, at least once did,

and wondering why

it disappeared seems

ah... so pointless to finding

the proper way of

securing its restoration.

23Jun16

This Night

this night like

so many nights before it

go sleepless,

victims all of steroids

given to prevent

that which is possible

due to chemo

but then...

there are meds as well

for this prevention,

still, this

double dipping dose

seems to be

the best overall

prescription

to cure what burns

inside me.

23Jun16

Inside Burning Outwardly

so many words are caught and trapped

inside the motivational bowels of my thoughts

and with each mental cramp, I fear another

one has been released upon which I must

respond or be forever doomed to receive no more;

and if, there were to be the case, have no idea

about what I would ever do these days of mine

that are sometimes spent away from words

and thoughts and feelings that ring so true

inside lofty sentiments that bear no name

or no resemblance to their authors, but which

flow like honey due down the thighs of time

in which I have cast myself these last few years.

24May16

Spirits Return Resources

the spirit of the mother and two

of the father but not as bright,

seek to bestow their secrets out

upon those who, like so many others,

who have come before them,

wish to know it all, but do not accept

the paid that must be paid for the

enlightened simulation of it all;

and all the freedoms foregone,

burnt at the feet of the false prophets

from whom prophetic words were

spoken or sung in Sunday rituals

inside stone monuments of doubt;

still, it was what we cast down

upon the earth to grow and when

it harvested not, we sought out

other mercies but none arrived

upon now our blessed mother.

24May16