Long Fleece Poems
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San Francisco, 1978
Now. stop thinking, that this is a story online.
There I stood, about to board a Muni bus.
In my head, thinking the world was all fine.
Across the street, a couple, having a fuss!
How could I stop them, I called the police!
The men in blue, said they were far too busy?
My weak knees shook as if made from fleece.
A huge Macho man, slapping a woman, it made me dizzy.
Blood from her nose dripped, cold people walked by.
I simply decided to stop this all on my own!
Others, enthralled with muses or clouds in the sky.
Nobody cared if macho man broke all her bones.
Well, I certainly did, and strode right into the jaws of danger!
He had her by the neck, punching her face.
A petite gal, I, to take on a large stranger?
To do nothing, would be to my utter disgrace.
I just walked there, knowing he was a creep!
I just ordered him to get his hands off of her.
Little did he know, I was no helpless sheep.
He was angry as heck, but he did enure!
I gave her Kleenex to wipe off the blood!
People passed by, as if we were not there.
Crimson running down her face like a flood.
We were just ghosts, not one person cared.
He had thrown her things all over the place.
I helped her getting her things off the street.
He disappeared down a hill in utter disgrace,
Evil can occur anywhere, stop it, if you have
the heart’s will!
Today, you may be jailed for saving lives.
This was not the first time, I took on danger.
Saving others, is the meat on which I thrive.
Those violent, insane beasts, harming innocent strangers.
5/23/2023
distortions of grandeur and praise
infect me and make me your slave
tranquility is but a phase
the sullen, the meek, the depraved
like shying fleece on the barter
delusions of ardor misplaced
inject faith that enmity made
in truths, she lay undressed, defaced
the maiden, the sheep, the dismayed
lead me across the graying plains
she'll be the bliss beside the pain
i lie prostrate in surrender
herd the weak into paradise
the needle is my new shepherd
stain delirium onto their eyes
like naked lambs to the slaughter
these are the pastures
the fields of mourners
the grass of beggars
meadows of paupers
here grow the anguished
the mired, the famished
the livid brackish
the passive tarnished
lead me beneath your rusting staves
these veins ache for the blight you gave
watch the child playing on the altar
dancing methamphetamine shivers
acceptance
deliverance
i am your sheep
this world's an abattoir
i am your sheep
feed me;
this mind is yours
When I touch his perfect skin
He tells me that he's my perfect 10
Calmed inside and cradled in his pride
My love for him I cannot hide
Against his chest I sleep so deep
Forever in the palm of my hand, his heart I will keep
His gentle voice captures my heart
And fire burns when we're apart
His ring finger belongs to me
His baby blue eyes teach me to see
His soft kisses melt my lips
He's slipping through my hair with his fingertips
Against his side I intend to stay
He keeps my demons so far away
Protection he offers my soul to rest
And acing with flying colors, this perfect test
His laughter tends to put me at peace
All warm and snug in his fleece
Security warms my beating heart
Being with him was so incredibly smart
And now for life he's here to stay
And be by my side from day to day
Support and stability came real quick
I just wish I wasn't so internally sick
In his wings warm is where I stay
My compassionate Taurus born in May
My little Marine born to kill
Who's life alone gives him the will
His defensive mind trains my soul
Although the Military takes a toll
But I've found him and he's found me
For he is my air every day that I breathe
"God give you the strength to finish this your way"?
I don't think you are first on his list, a special chair on judgment day?
better meditate, get it straight, rinse and repeat, people are people
so maybe when you're not "winning" people say, not sarcastically
that's okay, he's allright,
he's a good man with a magnetic personalitay livin right
or you can be an evil serving self proclaimed savior of gangland racket
too kool this mouth of the north and the south, with the devils ball sack in it
unpalatable to me if true colors were flavors,
id have to spew it from my mouth, like a bad flavr flav of JayZ or PeeDiddy or the other tools lyricals.
Think the world needs something refreshing,
no color on the brain, but still Golden, a golden giving heart molded upon brotherhoods fleece meshing. Not seeing scapegoats and color and retaliation.
You want to be a superstar, just dive right on in,
get on the ball, get in the game
But me more DeMarcus"ware" of your surroundings, Lest your words can block a fortress, a Minecraft of bombs. Are you on the front lines or sounbyte drive-by ing in your Catablack Escapade and control your own
climate, which is frigid to some.
Verily brothers I say to you, one might say
that all colors bleed into one,
colorless, souls, before God, judgment on, day
one
When fallen angels came roaring down,
Darkness formed the company of Nephilim,
In renowned legend, armed with more legion
Godless tinctures fleece hapless Canaan town.
The grim left breath in the ground, wild and wet,
Through Pitch-black gate, giant beings embark.
Deluge of demons rising from the dark, deep pit
Roaming around, trying hard to find the Ark,
Dappled with flu, attack the faithful few,
What would the ancient world be like?
Once bereft, now, strength of nobility drew
Windpuff deeds out of what history left.
In the pool, that groans with banshee froth
Fortunes loom to our detrimental doom,
Which craft hides the most fear in the cloth?
That covers the sea in secret phenomenon.
Salem sail on Siren, over the deep waters
Basham shadows frowning, despair of drowning
In baptism of fire for atonement of martyrs,
We at ease, see surprise revival of the Nephilim.
Let the disembodied imps that were chained
In the wicked wilderness, phantoms burn in urns,
Nymphs and Nixies witches that religion claimed
Will descend again, in latter times, reigning flames.
In the verdant pasture perched on the hilly spine,
ewe leads her frolicking lamb flock in the sunshine.
A lineage of woolly convoy on blithe bouncy trails,
its baaing symphony in the pastoral plateau sails.
With the satin fleece as soft as the morning mist,
each prancing sheep she adores can’t be missed.
Shepherd's calm control emits from love of ewe,
as her eyes glisten like dulcet drops of dawn dew.
She escorts the flock toddling in a dawdling pace,
ewe notice, she's the laudable lady of great grace.
As the sun sets painting horizon with golden hue,
the sleepy sheep seek for the cuddle of caring ewe.
What qualities make a ‘successful man’,
Is it the tambor of his voice,
Some lofty goals, a lifelong plan,
A steering hand, his knowing choice.
Can compassion play a part
Or is that interpreted as meekness;
Is it wrong to show a heart
Without labeling it as weakness?
Does strength need to be paraded
A steely front for all to see,
Is authority degraded
When others sometime don't agree?
An old proverb said as much:
"A wise man is one who listens"
Few have had the Midas touch
And those that did have breached divisions.
Three traits renown - the deadly cluster,
The very ones to spell out doom,
Bravado, Braggadocio and sheer Bluster,
For all they bring is downright gloom.
So where's the rulebook, that golden fleece
To show the way and light the path,
That font of knowledge and inner peace,
Assured success without the wrath?
Where it exists is inner strength,
A willingness to learn whilst teaching too,
Consistency and grace to any length,
Embracing all of us, not simply you.
In Fall's color extravaganza,
emerald treetops are set ablaze.
Nature reveals a gold bonanza;
at the end of Summer's shrinking days.
Emerald treetops are set ablaze,
with flames of vermilion and cerise.
At the end of Summer's shrinking days,
green leaves morph into a golden fleece.
With flames of vermilion and cerise,
highlighting the beauty of Autumn.
Green leaves morph into a golden fleece,
and trees get inked from top to bottom.
Highlighting the beauty of Autumn,
Nature reveals a gold bonanza.
And trees get inked from top to bottom
in Fall's color extravaganza.
White powder is softly falling out there,
And the temperature is getting low,
But I, in my soft fleece, am warm in here.
I hear the sound of those having a scare,
As they slide down their driveways even though,
White powder is softly falling out there.
Cars and trucks are still wrecking everywhere,
For no one knows how to drive in the snow.
But I, in my soft fleece, am warm in here.
The FedEx truck has crashed right over there,
And people rush to the stores even though,
White powder is softly falling out there.
Cars are sliding ‘round and drivers despair.
They call the garage to give them a tow.
But I, in my soft fleece, am warm in here.
Everywhere there is yelling in the air
As chaos comes with the covering snow.
White powder is softly falling out there,
But I, in my soft fleece, am warm in here.
A crystalline drop of frozen water
blossoms into a snowflake;
while tumbling to the ground.
And fragile flakes twirling in the sunlight
perform perfect pirouettes;
dancing upon a breeze.
White on white, the air is almost opaque;
as feathery flakes of snow
fall from a sullied sky.
Naked trees don a shawl of frosty white
delicately woven flakes:
beautiful to behold.
The ground gets blanketed in a soft fleece
stretched silky smooth by the wind,
seamless and wrinkle-free.
Boughs bow under the weight of Winter's hand,
sculpting a Hallmark moment;
time locked in memory.
And within the splendor of that moment,
I slipped under Winter's spell;
and fell deeply in love.