Long Crayoned Poems

I spin, faster and faster…    
losing control, I am a propeller rising.
Once, you were my mystery to solve,
my gift to unwrap -
my challenge, my highest vista to climb.
You lifted me to your...

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What happened to my boisterous boy,
      beloved keeper 
                     ...

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Growing older is a garden of graces . . .
disgraces, wild goose chases, closed in places.
It is an imperceptible tottering of time on a
conveyer belt, where at the end time drops
into the slipstream and becomes...

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Get out your sponges, stippling brushes and pens,
It’s time for makeover-Monday-night to begin.
Think Winky Lux, L’Oréal, Urban Decay,
Maybelline, Armani and Fabergé

It’s a black magic realm where brushes are wands,
where a carnival of colors are carefully...

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The Old Pier  (a picture poem)

beneath the boundary layer of air and sea
twirling vortexes of frenzied waters 
incessantly corrode 
the aging pillars below

the ravaged tired timbers emit 
anguished unholy screeching sounds
as ocean swirls beat...

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an editor's lament

I'm sick of shitty verses, mine and yours
Keep them far outside my office doors
	In the postal drawer
	I see eighty-four
Surely I will die if I read more.

I'm tired of lyric cruddiness submitted
By these would-be...

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“Fantasy is a necessary ingredient in living, it's a way of looking at life through the wrong end of a telescope.” 
? Dr. Seuss


Looking At Life Through Rose Colored Glass and Daydreams 

I gaze up...

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Everyday of our no-stop lives we fail to see our fragility
We ignore the vulnerability of our world…living in sandcastles

Carefree and pompous we build our illusion with a grand vanity
Knowing the price but ignoring the danger…bucketing...

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she said that yellow didn't suit
said she was leavin' me to boot
took all her shoes, of most the hues
'n' she left me nothin' but the blues

her lighter smiled hues of amethyst, 
she left the blue...

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"Memory is a treasure, once lost may never again be found" by poet

As I clean my closet for the last time,
each dress, each coat, I handle tenderly
they remind of a life that once was mine
when...

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September, I welcome your brand new moon,
Fun autumn color changes that occur
Blessing new seeds to fulfill new fruit soon
Falling in love with autumn cool breeze that does stir

Sounds of strumming strings unfurl brittle limbs
A uninterrupted...

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Amongst scribble crayoned clouds and an autumn sun,
Honey butter, pure and innocent flow as one.
Tiny undistinguished flickering candlelight
Losing itself in serenity of the dim sky's sight.
Fading away unseen into the quite formidable sigh
In a soft...

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True earth 
crowded with the familiar facial form:
chalked on concrete
crayoned by children, 
squirted on birthday cakes, 
in camera with teeth all whitened, 
portraited, imitated, formulated. 

We don't wake up 
until we see it. 
We plaster...

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