Long Passing out Poems
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Esoteric mountain
The track leading up to the mountain
that had no spire but was as flat as a prairie
in Idaho, dark soil and spuds
My faithful dog refused to follow
preferred to hang around at slopes
she looked worried
On reaching the topless mountain
the sun was hot and had a dizzy spell
before passing out, I saw a mule
Someone carried me the stream's
nascent, pure water for me to drink
I found a lump of sugar in my pocket
I looked around and saw no humans
but heard the murmur of a whisper
from hearty, green grass gossiping
When rested, walked down and
found a bar with a neon sign in red
mystified, I thought of ill omen
In the salon, I told the barman what
had occurred, he visibly paled and said
leave the unseen ghosts alone
They are a choir that disappeared on
on a field trip a hundred years ago
at night, they sweetly sing for us
Coming out of the den, the dog waited
and led the way to the main road, but
what was the mule trying to tell me
She holds my hand like I’d never
wake up after passing -out and drinking
one last lick from a broken bottle, only to
find myself needing another round of gin.
Yet, my woman cuddles me as if this
hair isn't filthy even though I haven't
hit the showers, even though I can’t
take my body to rest, to act functional.
And she gleams like she can't smell
the reek of alcohol I am breathing…
how my heart aches for the last time
her mouth kissed me on the face
after I broke a promise I couldn’t
possibly fulfill-- a lowlife freak, rogue of a man,
disappearing into bars and more bars
to silence fears so I cannot hear
old ghosts on the walls, in nightmares,
within her embrace,
… but still
I can’t love myself the same way that
she loves me like I never
screamed,
denied,
told her to go lose herself,
banging the door--
telling her that she was worse
than my compulsive urge.
She loves me -- a reckless quirk--
believing I will see THAT day
when I can Change.
.......................
11.17.2016
Creep Contest for Silent One
HIDDEN AGENDA:
It's on record,
Stripping naked in a rainfall.
A prelim lost of freedom,
Heddled by a downfall,
Highlighted with boredom.
The journey is so wrong,
And the prelim wants to hold on.
His soul is crying 'oh Lord'.
Time to time feeling appalled.
The challenge seems so tough.
He wish his life is prolonged,
So he don't demise too young.
The mind is guilty at a cost,
Yes, the prelim is terribly at fault.
But the time is gradually passing out,
And still can't breakout,.
Pressurised by pals,
For him to join their camp,
Indeed he joined them at last.
Later he's realised it's bad,
After the wealth he has amassed,
Can't satisfy his life.
Sacrificed the one he loved,
Only to succeed easily and fast.
Now that the deal is done,
He don't feel so fine.
Surrounded by numerous restrictions,
Gradually getting him diminished.
Always saying he's been foolish.
Figuring out he will soon perish.
Non of his family benefits from his wealth,
As the family's state is not well.
No one understands that tale .
It's a secret that has failed,
Tagged with a notion,
Described as the paramount conclusion.
Surrounded by his cohorts,
Who are also in the same pot.
Hooks up loose ladies,
Uses and troubles them.
Plans carnally to chill at unqualified columns.
Gestures he shows, he ahem,
Anytime questioned about his solemn.
Since he showcases a stealth.
He acts strange,I can tell.
Even his own people,he can't gel.
And their insinuations about him can't be dispelled.
Never doubting words regarding his spell.
This perfidious act proves who he is,
Someone fastened to mortal sin.
Lost from good morals, backslidden.
He didn't get it forbidden.
Buried in devil's riches,
Fifty-fifty sooner die or go mad,
Traded a good soul for vanity, so sad.
Drastic move,Damning not a canard.
A reality to pick a lesson,administered.
Sweet baby, I bought you a soft blanket -
vanilla with tender dots, a llama attached,
to welcome you into this chilly world.
And darling girl, I whispered prayers for you,
on nights you spent in the dark womb -
with rumbling of voices and pulsing heartbeat.
Your mama dear, they told her to abort,
but we held your wee hands as we hoped
because we believe in life not death.
Your mama miscarried your sibling,
swept away to the lullaby room in heaven.
I see he or she laughing with glee upon God’s lap.
A mama’s love so strong but body weak,
a mama who carries you in every thought.
A father, with pride, and provision, who waits.
A mama who’d close her eyes but did not die.
She slipped and careened off the road, passing out,
and you tumbled, wondering what it was all about.
You, baby, wanted to live with all your might,
even with a hole in your heart and fright.
Looking for the light, to pass into another world.
Thus tossed and turned, with emotions worn outside
your trusting birthday suit, oh angel dear, you died.
Mama, daddy, and grandma cry, affected inside.
And your grandma dear, my best friend, so strong.
With tears, I say, you take after her, you tried.
Two of heaven’s gifts, they wait for family, they play.
12/19/16
White Cars Haunt
My dreams awake in wasteful
Flights fantastic blight
Each headlight flares
Restless into the outer fields of memory
The oppressive, hot, humid twilight
Passing out of my sight
They haunt my wakening eyes
Along the way, hollow roads of soul
Down endless maps of history
The endless engines thumm
An echo old still lasts, sitting
White cars are empty and cold
Bloody taillights trace each past
Black rubber burns distant futures
White cars sit idle, haunting
Engines' hot air rises to
Meet my blurry vision of yesterday
As white cars haunt
Passing me on the left and then the right
Ghostly in the pale moonlight
In a parking lot, idling, hot
As neon bars pop and flicker
Feel the rot of endless horizons
White white cars travel, burning
Into the enigmatic magnetic night…
Who was this white haired Claus
With rabbit teeth?
Carrying a ton of peanuts
For all to eat.
Dragged in a sleigh pulled
By Agnew and Nixon,
Who ran right beside
Donnar and Blitzen?
He circled Camp David,
A fast fly by;
With lox and bagels for
the Jewish guys.
A carpenters’ pencil
Was poised by his ear,
And boxes of nails dangled,
From the gear in the rear.
Why! Its Jolly Ole Carter Claus
Draped in menorahs.
Handing out home plans to
the Arab before us.
Visions of world peace
Danced in his head;
As, he flew straight to Afghanistan
‘Fore noggin hit bed.
When down from the sky
In the form of deer dung,
Fell fruit tree seeds
Too be sown in the sun.
And, as CarterClaus’ whip cracked
O’er Nixon's ear,
As Agnew blanched,
His eyes filling with tears.
Droplets hit sand with
A plop and a splatter
’Pon the fruit tree seeds with
Nary a clatter.
The desert grew green;
Trees sprouted and grew;
Hearts filled with wonder,
Bellies with stew.
Homes were rebuilt,
as before the fall,
Cook fires were lit.
Children grew tall.
And Ole Carter Claus
Flew home in a daze.
Passing out sandwiches
That Roslyn had made.
Because this here is your passing
out parade doth your cap and gown
This here I don't know if you if you are
aware or know it yet
But also the end of what was once
your student life I hope you kissed
it a fond farewell and goodbye
As your days spent on scholastic
dissertation theoretical drunken debate
expressing your altruistic views putting
the world's wrongs to right in some or
other cheap backstreet pub
And pack away your monogrammed
slogan t-shirts and swap your long hair
and man-bun for a short back and side's
Because you my friend I am sorry
to inform have finally just crossed over
to the dark side
Welcome to the big wide world we have
been expecting you
And though you now have in your possession
a certificate denoting you are university
standard educated and have letters
to accompany your name as proof
Nothing you learned or where taught
be that even higher level education
would or could possibly have prepared
you for the harsh reality life has in-store
And unlike school which eventually
runs and has a predetermined course
over a precise timeline
Life means life and the remainder of
your's has just begun starting now
The time has come for you to put your
degree to some use find a job buy
a car and a house somewhere to rent
or buy
And oh did I forget to mention most
importantly of all
Start paying back whatever student loans
you took out compounding interest that
got you where you stand today
Until your 10 year graduation reunion
comes around and is the 1 and only
topic of discussion that everyone
still have left in common
Same old people as before now
just all grown up replaced with
long drawn faces
That once sparkled with aspiration
instilled with dream's of changing
the world and making it a better place
Who now wish for nothing more than
to be able to put food on the table and
go to sleep without the fear of the power
being cut off
Not the 3rd degree or lecture
*recite to Night Before Christmas
Who was this white haired Claus
with buck-rabbit teeth?
Carrying a ton of peanuts
for everyone to eat.
Dragged in a sleigh
pulled by Agnew and Nixon,
who ran right beside
old Donnar and Blitzen?
He circled Camp David,
A fast fly by;
with lox and bagels
for Jewish guys.
A carpenters’ pencil
was poised by his ear,
and boxes of nails dangled,
from the gear in the rear.
Why! It's Jolly Ole Carter Claus
draped in menorahs.
Handing out home plans to
the Arab before us.
Visions of world peace
danced in his head;
as, he flew to Afghanistan
‘Fore noggin hit bed.
When down from the sky
in the form of deer dung,
fell fruit tree seeds
to be sown in the sun.
And, as Carter Claus’ whip
cracked O’er Nixon's ear,
as Agnew blanched,
his eyes filling with tears.
Droplets hit sand with
a plop and a splatter
’pon the fruit tree seeds with
nary a clatter.
The desert grew green.
Trees sprouted and grew.
Hearts filled with wonder
bellies with stew.
Homes were rebuilt,
as before the fall.
Cook fires were lit.
Children grew tall.
And Ole Carter Claus
flew home in a daze,
passing out sandwiches
that Roslyn had made.
Prayers descend like acid rain from
oligarch-soaked manchurians, stumping
for elected office, praising hybrid
demigods, passing out vouchers to the
peasants.
A slow rumbling-
part of the night-sounds-of-curfew;
descends like fire ants.
Cleaners of the guilt, hidden in plain faith,
unable or unwilling to walk, feign
blindness, darkness helps.
Cellphone towers only reflect scripted
light, as memories of real sunshine, fade
to black. A good cup of coffee is hard to
find, all the fine beans were swept away
early on, replaced by dancing bears,
politely ignored. Thunderclouds, imagined
in shapes of our founding fathers,
encourage the deluge, slowly ascending.
Underground-
a grim band-of-believers watch (again)
a pirated tape of their favorite '80's movie,
'They Live' from the fabled city called the
new capital in 'The Postman' Minneapolis..
while the tormented sounds of-
plows
scraping overhead, and
hydrants,
bellys full, feeding power washers,
cascade
over hardened
faces.
05/11/14
minneapolis
© All Rights Reserved
She drowned her sorrows in an amber liquid world
Scotch on the rocks, round and round it swirled
She was now totally drunk
And on the verge of passing out
The monkey on her back kept her in a funk
As she could not control her drinking bouts
Next morning when she awoke
she remembered nothing of the previous night
she fumbled for a cigarette to smoke
she needed help urgently to win this fight
As the sirens rushed to the accident scene
mangled metal was all that could be seen
they pulled out a body from the broken glass
it appeared to be that of the amber swirl lass
Now she drinks on a higher plane
Where she feels nothing, not even pain
A ghostly guest in this strange new world
And no one to give her an amber swirl
----
4/11/12