LOVE DERAILED
Whose unscathed heart has dared to love,
for to love is to feel the pain.
Is it true love that hurts not the heart,
or just two passing trains?
In the best of times, dinner and wine,
when love feels like it shoud.
Dither and doubt linger about.
That dirt makes it hurt so good.
Love isn't fair, tis all but a dare,
arrogant, selfish, obtuse.
The winners gloat only in the grave
losers go back to the caboose.
Old lines and hard times denigrate the steel
making the cars woble and sway.
Even riding the smoothest rail,
clickety clack clickety clack, all day.
Left at the station, the end of the line,
Infatuation's purple heart.
The grotesque beauty of attraction
tis the angst of most great art.
When pain's embraced you've lost the race,
there is nothing left to see.
Bought and paid for, gelded and roped
like voluntary slavery.
If on romance you've take the chance,
I wish you the very best.
End of the line of the honeymoon train
It's all down hill for the rest.
The only child
but favorite
of two ‘outlaws’
mare and stud
He bucked each
gelded moment
on their wild ride
of love
Until that day
he up and left
their branding iron
of pain
To wander high
and lonesome
mongst the free
and tumbling sage
In search of one
last bronc to mount
that one last
horn to make
And spur the wreckage
of his youth
as Angels
— pull the Gate
(Pendleton Round-Up: June, 1993
Elko Nevada: Cowboy Poetry Reading: January, 1994)
A man ripped me off, he sold me a retired race horse that had been gelded.
He neglected to tell me that and my wife became so furious that I got belted.
The horse that I bought won every time, he never lost a race.
The seller ripped me off so I used a brick to smash his face.
That SOB was able to jip me out of twenty grand because I'm not very bright.
But that brick made him so ugly that he can't get a date on a Saturday night.
I planned to make a lot of money by using my horse for breeding.
I borrowed the twenty grand from a loan shark and now a hospital is what I'll be needing.
I'm broke, I have no money to pay the loan shark back.
The loan shark has arrived and he's ready to attack.
He's showing me no mercy, he's ignoring me as I beg.
He has broken several of my ribs and both of my legs.
I have some advice and you should really take my word.
If somebody tries to sell you a race horse, give him the bird.
One night, I stumbled impetuously in what seems like a market
Where gargoyles and gangrenes were sold in secret and hidden places
I watched the seller closely and a gelded man! I saw signs of
Pity, I felt for him until he started hinting at shooting cupid's arrow at me
What an irony! I said to myself until I found out that I was lost in the market of gargoyles and gelded men!!!
Lo!
Years
back
I
gelded
my
head
And
ergo
it
knew
no
honeydew;
Today
its
sinews're
not
sluggish
And
it's
no
time
the
cud
to
chew!
Not Far From Now
Human rights, a chime so gay,
Makes the world a fading ray.
All we need is time; time
For the end of the chime.
The world will soon cease to be,
As death drains life free of fee.
Before then, life will be gay,
Bent by human rights sway.
Before then, gay will rule,
Aided by a gentle giant ghoul.
Before then, no cry of babies;
There's no breast to squeeze.
For lack of breeding bed,
Fertile women, to Saturn fled;
Gelded men left to perversion,
Lost in a life of corruption.
The world that once survived,
When cry of death thrived
In weapons of mass destruction,
Is now dying from soft suction.
Not far from now; a hundred,
Or so. If not with care we tread,
Humans will zero in slow plod,
Smiling to death with a nod.
Clamor for human rights is gay,
While life on earth a prey.
Human rights less of humanity
Is mans' naked insanity.
© 2014
The ghostly grippe on Zorro's goolies,
as the ghostly footsteps fall,
some old bugger called d'hoolie,
jerked his chain and was not enthralled,
gelded by the facination,
would he get her would he fall,
rising, falling, flaccid, hesitation,
Zorro needs some other's balls....
Don
Down down down I go, deeper into the confines of my feeble brain, for I have tried
to live and have done things that excited my inner being, just to be let down
again, to lull in mine own heartache, where does it all end? Is there an end or is
this my hell on earth, my hell after death, gelded and betrayed, tortured destiny in
a sea of anguish, for I have tried again and failed. Morbid soul aloof standing
alone, but wanting to be captured. Remorse dwells and nourishes on mine
heartache, exiled to the ground, eyes brimming with involuntary tears. The eternal
feast thrives on my admiring heart, for within me lies a love so profound that
ancient idols are jealous, apathetic fellow travelers, that follow in mine footsteps,
trying to find a love that is traveling out of reach on the fastest wind, toward
serene and luminous fields. I stand alone, hoping for a magic hand of chance, to
foster a flicker of pleasure. Stir of heart.
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