I do not know?
are like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps down
Their cool aftermath
cleanses me of my thoughts
of fear and uncertainty
about what tomorrows
pain may bring
They make me feel,
wet with creativity
drenched in my optimistic
raindrops, my thoughts
leave paths of pleasurable
distress, and hope of success
which road, less traveled
may be the best
Forget an umbrella
when these raindrops
arrive, I walk outside
arms open wide
Ready to Receive
the mind storm may bring
because raindrops are
as my thoughts, falling
down into my mind
sending shivers down
My brain, yearns
for the rain, to wash away
the pain, tomorrows worry
One special drop
could speed up life's clock
to the time
I can handle my own
and not dwell inside my controllers
For raindrops are,
like my thoughts
falling down into my mind
sending goose bumps
down my spine
DECLARATIONS OF A SOCIAL SCIENTIST
Indeed, I am that Poet and know it.
Just in transition to a more enriched poetry form.
I want to talk about life, politics, and religion.
Maybe not simultaneously but how I am feeling today.
I tell you life isn't a bowl of cherries.
I am not harvesting berries.
I live a vivacious existence.
I nature walk and take beautiful pictures.
I thrive in my leisure time.
Even more so, I work until my mind unwinds.
I am just a thrill seeker but not an extremist.
I am an illustration of wellbeing.
In fact, I am striving for better physical dexterity.
In all, my body desires more agility.
To eradicate the clumsiness,
My ability to monitor my own quickness is propensity depleted.
My mind, body, and spirit have superseded.
Oh, I am told that it is all right to be big headed.
Of course, gloating is good for your inner being.
Dwindling is not something I will let occur.
I am the booster of morale.
Be assured that I am there for others who seek a physiological mental form.
Do I appear to be titivated?
I am what I have stated.
Doubtlessly, there will be jealousy.
Without doubt, they will envy me.
Undoubtedly, this will not hinder.
I have overcome obstacles since the being of my existence.
Liberated from birth via a nation of government, I am free.
I can wave my hand and be seen.
I can stand up for what is right.
I can ignite the political fire.
I can educate my mind to genius.
I can defeat enmity.
Negativity may come but I disallow it to be a formula.
I am abreast.
Penned on October 31, 2014!
Across the valley
Stood the mountain I believed to be id
Two levels and a summit
Made it appear layered
Like first-dynasty pyramids
It would be a long climb
Step, stumble, slip,
Clutch and elevate my entire being
The valley’s simple green plants
Lived in symbiotic coexistence
With bees and ants
Nature nurturing nature
An embryonic journey
Between the Tigres and Euphrates
Such splendor might have caused me to remain
But I walked on
At the base of the mountain I paused
The summit hidden by a cloud ring
I looked back upon my Mesopotamia
Hailing its verdant simplicity
Questioning the summit’s worth
But uncontrollable curiosity
And unquenchable desire
Edged me forward
I climbed onto rocky soil
I stumbled as stones slipped ‘neath my feet
Reaching out to clutch a bush
I pulled upward
The first plateau ran before me as a brook
I peered into the pool of life
Finding amphibians, reptiles, fish
Ankles rubbing green algae
Creating eerie sensitivity
The water cooled me
Thinning air brought calm
A sandy bottom soothed me
Such harmony might have
Caused me to remain
But above me
Within a mystical Saturnic cloud
Secrets of the summit beckoned
Edging me to elevate
Sweaty palms grasped a wild rose’s stem
Sharp thorns drew blood
My body fatigued, I cursed the climb
What marvels lay above the ring
The second plateau’s diversity thrilled me
Simple moss, brown rabbits
Deer with long, willowy legs
Hundreds of life forms
Gave me entrance
To Thoreau’s untouched paradise
The alluring cloud hung low above me
I questioned my destination
The second plateau’s oasis might have
Caused me to remain
But irresistible desire
Again edged me to step, stumble
Slip, clutch and elevate
I entered the cloud layer
Feeling hot and cold dancing vapor
The mountain I believed to be id
Swam under my feet
Perplexed, I muddled upward
Above the timber line
No trees, no grass
No plants, no animals
Still I was curious for id
And took the final step
A cold granite peak
Amidst the grey moisture
Self-realization was achieved
I had seen all that was beautiful
But passed it by
The key to paradise was offered
Yet I had been a martyr to my own desire
I could not see
The valley, brook,
Or paradise of total life
I could see
And I cried
For want of something beautiful
We let down the top to soak in the sun
Now that the harshness of winter is done
As you let back the seat and put your feet on the dash
Saying, “keep your eyes on the road I don’t want to crash”
I truly must admit that I’m torn completely in two
The coast has its beauty, then again so do you
As the beauty of the Sun is absorbed by your skin
Like a kid at the candy store I simply want to dig in
If life is a candy store sweetheart you are the treat
All the other candy I tasted, never tasted so sweet
The reason I love summer is because of the heat
The skimpier the bikini, the greater the treat
I can’t begin to express how wonderful you are
Saying, “hey take a look at her I’ll steer the car”
At first I truly had no idea what I should say?
Though now it’s, “ok sweetheart, have it your way”
I think that is because you know these words are true
I may take look at her but I shall forever belong to you
Summer is a time that is as bright as the sun
Out goes the cold as it’s replaced by the fun
We have our barbecues and sit under the stars
Let down the tops and go for rides in our cars
Go tend to our gardens in farmer John clothes
Truly amazed at how fast everything grows
Go hang out at the river as well as the lake
Cover ourselves in oil than let our skin bake
Embrace the moments because these words are true
The days last much longer and the sky is so blue
The dog days of summer I reckon that’s so
We bark and howl at folk we don’t even know
If life is banquet then summer is the feast
I think we should gobble it up, to say the least
Written for john's Summer contest.
When I am Colder,Older and then alone...
I will collect the sky on my own...
When the art has faded and the days then fade-
when everyone has gone away...
I may finally see what never was saw
.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhh............... the quiet sky
The unlit room which bares my end...shows the flashes of my pains my joys and sins.
This life has been a strange one since the curtains were drawn
These paper and plastic figures have clouded the dawn
I was once younger,foolish,and obsessed with truth
Now I am bitter,sour,dour faced with my heart under shoe
The children were all searching or lost in a crowd
All weeds in a garden...growing vile and foul
Though beauty was sold it never came true
Obsessions and vanity have traveled safe through
Materials and poison and everything lost
have been burned in the fires or lost in the frost
I stand face to mirror tearing my being apart
Winding thoughts of love,pain,god,and art
As the sun sets and the darkness grows
I too shall follow this pattern in tow
Death has a friendly hand and a pretty face
She has given me comfort as I leave this place
The wars have occurred,humanity's lost
Souls have been burnt in the fire or lost in the frost
Day was Life,Night is Death
And the latter has given counsel on my final steps
“the eyes of my eyes opened” as
the door when she came in, late
and embarrassed, click of a
shutter into “the ear of my ear” a
whispered ‘hi’ for a greeting
at the meeting, a reading.
she might be beautiful, had I
my glasses, seeing nothing
of a face or a flower, boughing to
sunlight, bowing to heaven
I see inward had I my glasses
I’d hear a thought that over
me wrought a heaven-bent word or
something more absurd.
“Abso-lute-ly & pos-i-tive-ly”
dead in the large-room
prison-with-a-view, had I
my glasses, everything’s new
in its monotony, “under me you so quite new”
I knew the world kicks up its dirt in my
I would have seen the lies, the dirt, the
heaven-bent word, her (quite new), had I
Soft creeps the splendid dream tides of the night
The burning embers of heavens breath descends upon my dreams
Dreams of you, my love tonight
Sparkling wishes, amulet stars, a kiss goodnight.
Heart withstanding aches I dare retrace,
I am accompanied by a newfound face, an explorer’s vision
Tears of joy sprout from their jeweled wings,
Flying toward the smiling moon,
I welcome dreams…tonight, I welcome you
Where whispers trail the sleeping waters.... my love goodnight
Unending sails, hearts submerged in love's delight
Tonight I dream of you
On the rosy fields of memoirs sweet
Soft, tender breezes remind me of your crescent touch..
I curl into the swaying waters, cradled by our memory
Where once you smiled in afterthought, and I in golden reverie
Would beauty among these gentle scenes kindly draw you in?
So maybe we can share the graces of light that lives within
Soft moonlit roses, dripping in night-shined dew,
Yes, even as they close, tonight I dream of you.
Take my hand, don’t let me leave this land
For it thrives on our love’s horizon,
Draw your words upon my life, and let night take its stand
But before I sleep, my love tonight. Oh let me seal it with a kiss.
That in beauty's dream my light would float in your love's eternity.
A thousand saddest days may come, and a thousand darkest dreams
But I'll chase them all for you my love, just to have you in my dreams.
These eyes closed tightly with the rosebuds ,
Shall open before clouds, dark and awry
And in the ground, my love for you shall yet still bloom,
Fed by the healing rain, and your steady love refrain
When tonight I dream of you
-A special collaboration with poet Mustapha Mohammad-
Standing still head's up
Retrospect greatest pitfalls
Mass consciousness whim
Wandering till dawn
Waiting brave for the result
Less breathe heartless beat
Until the mind soar
Now is inexplicable
People grim anew
For the best of all Juries
Render canny nod
Captivated voter's wit
Last laugh never ends.
That’s all that I can say
Let your inner voice tell you
The way to live your day
Do not be hard upon yourself
That never did no good
Just be happy, never worry
It’s foolish that one should.
Cause you’re a ‘one off’ too
No one else can play your part
Nobody can be you
It’s a lovely world we live in
Let it seep into your soul
Then when you feel at one with life
Twill get you feeling whole.
Most people call me crazy
But I love being me
I do not care what others think
I only like to be
To be this way, it is my right
A gift sent down by fate
I’m so I’m happy being me
Each day to me is great.
14 August 2013 @ 1410hrs.
I am like
embraced by serpents many
always trying something new
and dramatic with my
I am like
growing up with a painful family
getting lost in movies
thinking of my own
hypnotizing when I speak
First lady of Argentina
meeting you, after death
would be a treat
a nervous habit, of nibbling
on my jewelry
the similarities, between us
gave me a sense of foolery
I am like
Chief of the Cherokee Tribe
for ten years
fighting against Native stereotypes
despite such distress
enemies did stress
promoting to ‘be of good mind’
you were a leader, of your time
an advocator for women
that they may grow up
and become chief
as a child, you wondered
the forests, like me
not the streets
I am like
Aung San Suu Kyi
wearing three types of
flowers in your hair
feeling at times like a
‘splinter of glass, sharp, glinting
power to defend itself against hands
that try to crush’
winner of a Nobel Peace Prize,
for courage, was
I am like
Catherine The Great
a love to laugh,
coffee, and feeling compelled
to always fill abandoned blank
sheets of paper
you were a Royal Russian Empress,with
not one red drop of Russian blood
and her people, were blessed
to have her
I am like
the Queen of England
longest royal lifetime in history
strong built, from a miserable childhood
this is no mystery
preferring candle light
handwriting over typewriter
I am like
dreaming to live as she did
riding elephants and having
tiger cubs as companions
your own Sikh security
killed you, the story
a sad one
secret dreams of being a writer
angered, by the imbalance of
between men and women
listening to beat poets
as a great Prime Minister of India
you were heard
I am like
drew the worlds attention to
native Indians rights,
because of you
your goal, to be
a drop of water on a rock
dripping in the same spot,
eventually in the world, you
may leave a mark
wearing many colors
‘because it gives you life’
insisting men and women be equals
you fought this fight
to relax, as I do
writing poetry into
I am like
Joan of Arc
French Military Heroine
burned at the stake at just
known for keeping your cool
even on the battlefield
being a courageous and inspirational
Legendary Lady Leaders
I salute you
Keep well away from dark, forbidding dreams --
Instead, stay near the hearth and play your lyre;
Sleep even so will wait on wooden beams,
Seducing you beside your cozy fire.
Meticulous and careful you may be,
Evicting darting shadows with the blaze --
Inside your quiet cottage, patiently,
Night's emissary holds you in her gaze.
The cuckoo calls as midnight church-bells chime;
His warning message echoes from the walls --
Enchanted ears have lost all track of time,
So far from whispered fears as silence falls.
Her chilling hands then rip away your voice,
And images assail your inner eyes --
Denying you the act of conscious choice,
On captive lips she mixes truth and lies.
When sunlight climbs the sky and breaks her spell,
She blows a darkened kiss, and bids farewell.
Do I dare look at you when I walk these streets?
Chase your shadow as it crawls under my feet?
For I have walked my way through
These pleasant, summer nights
Trailing any trace of you in amber
Hearing the laughter of men and women
Drunken behind bars, their obliviousness
Billowing with the smoke of cigars
And once again I begin to wonder
In these thoughts that shatter, asunder
Of how unvoiced these nights have become.
The scent of scones melting in tea
The sugar, the beach, the creamed coffee
How foolish do I ought to be?
How much emotion becomes too much for me?
And the sun that strokes the clouds at sea
And hides its rays amongst them-
I watch… as all this beauty encircles me.
My eyes see not the glamorous dream
That has been haunting the lives of many it seems
The loveliness of love and its glimmering gleam
The word that is only word
That dream that is only dream.
For I have seen it on all these smiley faces,
Hurried looks, and warm embraces
Can’t you see?
How we all have been entangled in one giant
Web of emotion?
Is there ever a place between Wordsworth’s
Daffodils and Poe’s Raven?
I walk these streets listening to a busker
Play his harmonica-
As I flip a coin into his flipped hat,
How different we are, him and me
Or are we?
Restricted we are to language and time,
Enslaved in memory, engaged in rhyme
How much easier it is to think of you and me
Rather than the misleading amounts of
Separating land and sea –illusory-
I observe and am observed as I walk these
Streets, and I feel I know nothing of
Neither you nor me.
It was on the other side of the rainbow
When I slid into a dream
I guess at that time nothing was, as it truly seemed
People came and people went
The needle played my blues
Through the rainbow dreams into leprechaun schemes
I was Papa Smurf with the magic brew
I built a Crystal Castle
On the shores of nevermore
I guess sometimes I wonder, “What was I searching for”
Beauty danced with big brown eyes
Though the faces always changed
Many times I slept with gals I thought were rather strange
Magic slides that no one hides
I wonder where they go?
I once slid down the rainbow just to see the show
The stars are bright it’s a beautiful night
Moonbeams illuminating mushrooms all around
Here by my house crickets and frogs are the only sound
Fairies dance like fireflies
It’s really quite the sight
Ever tripped down Hollywood and Vine on a Friday night
I have lived through many dreams
Shared many angels souls
Shattered dreams and broken schemes, nothing but empty goals
Broken hearts torn apart
Blowing in the wind
Like fairy dust you just can’t trust
Not even your closest friend
I dove into a crystal pool on the other side of the hill
I swear sometimes in my ears I can hear the ringing still
I rode upon the tornado just to go spinning through the sound
Landed in a concrete room bouncing all around
Leprechauns and rainbows
Unicorn’s beautiful and white
When I finally kicked the horse
It wasn’t a pretty sight
Like a frog on the log or a sick old dawg
Just a skeleton in a box
With the strength of Arthur's sword and trust in the Lord
I shattered a thousand locks
Now I’m back on this side of the rainbow
And every thing’s looking bright
My Guinevere is here and I love her dear
She is such a lovely sight
Trials come like waterfalls
Flooding though our life
I truly am a lucky man to face them with my wife
Well let’s gig the frog and fire up the log
We’ll roast us a pig tonight
Life is good in my neighborhood
Nary a single vice
The other side of the rainbow now seems so very far away
I guess that is really about all I have to say
From my window it's a distant blur
A patch of brackish green interrupting the view
Those rusty tops of old cedars at the bottom of the hill
But, here...inside I smile - breathe deep
And am re-assured they remain always...waiting
Walls of my castle, my fortress, my strength
My secret garden
One step inside, I'm safe
Safe to share and receive secrets
Soft scented needles under my feet
Leave no trace I was ever here
On my favorite rock
Among the crisp green briar and wild rose
Winding old grapes and honeysuckle
Listening to my heart
While my garden grows
She'll be loved, a modest, pure and golden
Love, but hers is lust . .
A teenage dream of youth today
Refraining from true trust;
Explosive social tendencies to
Decide her right from wrong,
Human instincts not so human
But a technologic song-
It shall hum to her desire,
In another whom she'll cross;
Mechanic works inside her brain,
Must force her soul a loss.
Such a choice yet to be made,
Though no pain inside shall pass.
Due to social tendencies,
Yes, due to social tendencies . .
His heartache be her last
Within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright
shadows twist obsidian trees torment,
the cypress writhe in blood moon’s bright delight.
The hunter hides his nascent lust for might
and so the doe flees by man’s bow unbent,
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright.
The cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight,
bedevil not the finer soul, repent,
the destined deed, must feed, man’s plight.
With deadly skill, fletched shaft sheers frosty night.
The horned hart does fall in wonderment,
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright.
And torment flows in drops of crimson sight,
distorting right and light with man’s intent.
The cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight
Into the holy water blood rings light
for life is all and death is but dissent,
within the forest’s dream of night’s true fright,
the cypress writhes in blood moon’s bright delight.
I walk amidst all these people
Contemplating in thought I stare
I walk entranced, my mind so rapt
As if I were not even there
Across crowds of so many
Of all colors, of all faces
The Western, the Eastern
Personalities in all races
I see the thin and fat
I see the short and tall
In shapes and sizes
Beauty varies in all
Some stroll with smiles
Of the old and blue
Others in peevish laughter
Of youth and hue
Dressed in diverse styles,
Some dim, some flare
I walk by women in beauty veiled
And others that walk half-bare
In some I see despair
In others I find insight
Some, I just walk by
With not much visible to sight
I walk amidst all these people
Each one to life a strand
I walk in thought, in masses
And I simply don’t understand
That the sun set into ones life,
They set the still subsistingly still. When nothingness is all the while fraying. For a savoring tongues withal? So as seemly unfortunately.
Exquisite the ravel of his comforting quilt
a pondering notion of wisdom is felt
I take a sip of his lovely red wine,
Dr. Rams words are better than gold..........simply divine
susurrus hymns of love at times
or perhaps lissome words in flowing lines
silently I sit as his words come to life,
Dr. Rams words are better than gold...........simply divine
o' the words that linger, perhaps burn inside
his heritage, his love, his grand design
I fall in dream into his domain of time,
Dr. Rams words are better than gold..........simply divine
a song of one soul
a dance for all, profound
a story unraveling with pages alive
Dr. Rams words are better than gold.......... simply divine
I had a horse named Suzie Haus when I was twenty-one.
I had wanted her since I was seven, the waiting was finally done.
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, in the World up to that day.
And forever in my memory her beauty will continue to stay.
A painted mare with a black mane and tail, then brown over white.
She became the best friend I’d ever have, you might say we were tight.
I fed her every morning, as I talked to her as I cleaned out her stall.
Then every night I did the same, plus cleaned four hooves all.
I brushed her to a shine, I was so proud of her each day.
Then with a saddle, reins, and me…we were on our way.
The stable was near a river, on top a great big bluff.
A dirt road shadowed with trees allowed us to strut our stuff.
As we danced down the road, the lightening bugs rejoiced.
And gentle breezes touched us, giving the leaves their voice.
Then peace would settle round us, as off to trails we would sashay.
This was the stuff that dreams were made of, and I had it every day.
Birds could be heard throughout the woods, the serenade complete.
I saw the river far below, and the sky with clouds of fluff so sweet.
Sometimes we were with others, but most often we were alone.
But it didn’t really matter, for we always knew the way home.
As we turned to go down the bluff, the river urged us to come below.
Deer danced on the land beneath, in the fields a buck and does.
The gentle angle to the floor below, allowed us to mingle in.
They let us close within a few feet, they thought Suzie was a friend.
At the river the blue sky with a reddish sunset had lite everything aglow.
Soon river barges came floating by, and it was quite a show.
Fishermen sat there minding their peace, until the moon began to glow.
The moon twinkling on the river below, was always beautiful and clear.
We’d talk a while, and breathe so deep, the air had a different flavor here.
Once I met a young man looking for inspiration to write a song.
At that time it began to rain so I helped him quickly get where he belonged.
He thanked me profusely, as he made it to his car.
I had helped him save his love, a very beloved old guitar.
From inside his car he played a song he’d written, while he had been there.
I sat upon Suzie beneath a canopy of trees, that sheltered me, I swear.
Finally the rain and song were done, my serenade complete.
Then I rode off back to home, later achieving more memories and gentle treats.
Some lives are like a stone quickly skipping over the ponds top, forever tossed.
My life is below the surface trying to reach upward with each breathe lost.
But there is still beauty, deep down here in the great depths below…
For the solitude holds me in its grip as I dwell with what I know.
My occasional trips to the surface leave me vastly wanting more…
Still, my life below the surface doesn’t scare me as it did, once before.
And the breaths will come when given, as my life continues to flow.
True it is dark but beauty lingers, everywhere the currents move below.
At times, the surface reflections seem surreal, as if it’s a place not to go.
Comfort comes more and more to my soul, as the deeper I glide below.
Here I dwell within myself, with words, and thoughts, that carry me along.
Perhaps I have found where I truly belong, as I sing my siren songs.
Perched high upon the escarpment
of sandstone rubble, the boy sat,
shaded from the rising of the sun
in the shadow of Kings.
Sharp eyed he preyed
upon the tourist below, and to his God Allah.
His path was a treacherous one
looped and twisting like the snakes of ochre gold
shone cresting the brow of Ramesses
in the unearthly Valley of the Kings;
far from the osprey and marsh grass
of the beloved Nile.
Below the boy, on a zigzag path
between the mouth-like openings to the netherworld,
tourists swarm, ants on a mound of honey stone
suckers of sweetness, oblivious,
as they had done for centuries.
He sat as his father before him
hunkered down knees to chest
the vulture heraldic creature of Upper Egypt
death eater, little had changed except
now the robbers wore blue jeans and not the hajab.
He had earned his small bit
of the twentieth century..hawking
Temptation to fall came knocking thrice strong
Remembering how we crossed the lines, so wrong
Because you were the fallen side of me,
A raven angel of venial sins lurking on damned sea
Treading on broken glass intoxicated by glitters
Of exciting dangers as call of the wild littered;
Our minds seduced by sly games uncontrolled
Feeding insatiable urges more than life could behold,
Until I collapsed, succumbing to black heat
Charred , burned from slits of fevered beat.
Then , a glint of light where reborn eyes pranced
Are where hopes begged for a winged chance,
My spine bent to a shape deeply shaded white
As if to say, damn! Put your act together and do it right;
While from afar, *Angels descending, bring from above,
Chiming blurred *echoes of mercy, whispers of love*
And in that moment, the raven part of me led to slaughter
Tipping my choices to bathe on cleansed waters
…….. .. . . . .. .
To Hell and Back for PD's Contest
By: nette onclaud
wash over and over
a discarded glass
leaving what is left
smooth as silk
to my fingertips
like a childhood
thought over and over
and as I look
out into the unyielding
I recall your promise
I recall, over and over
like the waves splashing my
tan feet upon the sands
for you are overdue
to return to me
as I kiss my love note
and toss the bottle once
into the dark blue abyss
my coke bottle
forever and only
I do stay
love ewe and blue
aer rhyming words true
there is always inflection and poor attitude
limits of knowledge above snobbish refrains
trains run on time only in the movies
movies run on time only in a small town
there is very few movies shown on trains
blue can be an attitude blue can be a heart
love you can be used to start a heart apart from you
as you watch the blue southern train depart
from the blue stunted depot with the board walk floor
the little blue conductor yelling all aboard her
as the train takes the love and makes your attitude blue
soup mix tastes so wordy so blue so true and good
with a doubly heaping helping of a love ewe attitude
I walk a mile to see the self in me that I believe to be,
I knew the road I choose to lay my head to sleep is called my home,
times in need I could barely see that in myself I will set free,
the act that held me down, something about me I could not see,
I lived a life when I decide that day I said that I don't care,
so young, so bright, I dim my light, traumatized for me to share,
love me please regardless of what you heard and what you have seen,
friends say that I'm only human, yes you're right, a human but who am I being?
My life will move in the direction I choose,
this I know I have always been taught
that I choose to be a winner or lose,
its entirely up to me its all in my thoughts.
is a spoon
that you can bend
with your mind.
It depends on psi
X or Y
a paranormal opportunity
or a wild talent
of psionic penmanship .
Stare at the pattern
on the handle
as you imagine
either roses or unicorns
are emblazon here.
So much the better
as your mind
bends the words
and the metal obeys...
Spoon begins to tremble
there is no knife
to run away with.
like an empty plate.
a bent spoon
with squeezed letters...
For thoose of you who may not know.
Just call me gonzo I write the absurd for life is insane and sometimes
it takes a madman to speak the truth so very clear.
I write for the broken vacant faces that have lost all hope.
To the dreamer who's well is slowley running dry from everyone
telling him to stop wasting his time.
I write like a endless highway fueled by whiskey and wild women
every adventure leads to pain but life is pain and i love in spite of it.
I thirst for every unseen mile the desert my brother it's people dwell
in the spirt of the west the opium parlors and brothels spirt still linger.
I write with a hint of danger and a promise of disaster.
Im a blues player whos trying to out run the devil.
Im a outlaw riding to cross the border a woman looking to the
empty range for my return.
I write because I breath in a world were the creative air has gone
The bottle sits apon table and I welcome any strangers company
I just rather that stranger be a warm woman instead of a
unfriendly amigo who is a little jelouse.
Write to be more than just part of the highways landscape.
Some may call me crude crazy insane some even vulgar and
liar and thief.
But aside from thoose compliments.
No matter what you may call me.
Dont ever forget to just call me gonzo.
‘ Raul Moreno, Poet- Sen•sei … ’ 56th Senryu
Like Marco Polo
Haiku Master, Moreno
Explores Nature’s Show
From Magnanimous Me (he! he!) (LOL)
Love Your Poetry,
Your Poet-Pal, MoonBee
Digging in my heels I’m ready to run, onward I go with my back to the rising sun
Shadow demons be gone pester me not, I’ll run so fast that you’ll soon be forgot
Newly reborn with no sign of a savior, renouncing the old ways desolate behavior
Forged in fathoms of what could have been, not knowing how not knowing when
My legs tighten I take off in the sand, in search of tomorrow in search of new land
Burning back from the sweltering heat, blisters echo my pain in my pounding feet
Relentless I run from my shoes I break free, running as fast as I can to my destiny
Dried out earth slowly turns green, desert skies of red turn a blue and white serene
Grass under foot a new way is found, no longer am I tethered no longer am I bound
Freedom calls to me bellowing from within, where will it end where should it begin
Breaking the summit confident I leap, my dreams my desires these things I will keep
Diving down toward the crystal river, no more regret no more fear not even a sliver
Splashing down into the waters cleanse, my conviction is what my success depends
Swimming to the shore naked to the sun, it’s my time to rebuild my time has begun