What Eye Want

 

Picture me as the eye in the sky

Pentatonic form of Pii

Breathing your musk, denting the sky

Feeling like an ass going zoooooooooom

Punch in the ribs, smoking a stick

Hips perfect, legs thick

Listening to the velvet moans of Grace Slick

Watching the birds hit the moooooooooon

Look at your teeth so perfect and square

Skin white, complexion fair

Comb tangled up in your big red clown hair

Tossing the stuff in your rooooooooom

You want my senseless rabble to stop

What a fucking writing cop

Words dangling, a smelly wet mop

I stab you with the point of my pluuuuuuuuuume

Get this

Oh miss

My bliss

I write what eye want

When She Sings

When she sings

He paints pictures of heaven

With an olive branch

Scraping ochre colored rag vellum

When she stops

He lays down his branch

And longs for the taste

Of  flesh from her upper thigh

When she sings

He paints pictures of hell

With the tips of a lepers fingers

Organic depth, fleshy tribute

When she stops

He washes the paint from his hands

Lays still and touches himself

Living for the next time

When she sings

Membership Has it Rewards

She opened the speak easy port peering perfectly

White skin

Pink cheeks

Green eyes…..fuck

She whispered my name in tones to die for

Red lips

Sultry voice

Soft lilt…..glow

Her breath smelled like ice and licorice

Warm smile

Cool breeze

Ice crystal words…..breathless

She asked me for the password

Fogged mind

Beauty trance

Winter queen…..perfect

“A frozen kiss” I whisper

Lengthening grin

Quick beats

Gentle click…..sigh

You realize once you enter….

Pushed door

Sheer sundress

Marble smooth…..lust

You are a member for life

Soft kiss

Cool touch

Lie down…..happy

Rock Bottom

Cast into the pit, no more than a rusty metal bowl

To deep to claw and scratch my way to the top

My mind still sings her strangled lyrics

The siren song of a thousand bleeding orgasms

Bending fingernails until the yellowing gelatin snaps

Using them to cut deep, dripping black thoughts and paranoia

The result as desired, the odor of stinking synapse wafts up

The smell of a need to reason for release, he smells it

His smallish head appears at the top of the pit…beaming

Roundish glasses, smart ass intellect….prying

Clown like hair and caved in chest….lonely

Smile at the corners of his thick and drying lips….smacking

"You have hit rock bottom my friend I can no longer help you"

He drops a mass of quivering flesh and a bottle of Valium

"Cry yourself to sleep, bathe in the feces of a lack of self control"

"I am your Montresor and you show up in jesters motley"

I wipe the stew from my own brow….stinking

My squarish not attractive jaw line…clenching

The foulness of my hatred and bitter thoughts….reeking

The salvation of a final thought…triumphant

I stare at the sullied drainage grate in the middle of the pit

And spit

I smile at my Montresor and squint

Eyes brimming

"It seems that you are mistaken"

"But it happens to the best'

I close my eyes and puff into smoke, slipping down the grate

I had not hit rock bottom after all

Before I Go.....

For Christ sake

Look in your own heart

For what’s right and lift it in your hands

High in the winds, sprinkling change

I am not a savior or a crush

My pants are designed for one leg at a time

Pick up your neighbors troubles

Be a mini Messiah, drink the fears of your brother

For Christ sake

Look to your own mind

A country in trouble that I cannot mend

Placebo for a misplaced yearning

I am not a prophet or a bard

My snake oil isn’t good for your everyday problems

But you buy it because it is easier than making your own

Here is the recipe, start cooking

The best that I can possibly do

Is to help my fellow man

In a manner consistent

With my upbringing

A World of Her Own

Her hair smelled like the Wyoming sunshine

He asked her where she'd been

Through her new found lover's aura

She whispered, "just out"

He hung his head in deep despair

Wondering what kind of man could let her go

She placed her hand on the back of his neck

She whispered, "we're fine"

She took him ever so lightly

To a place behind the alfalfa fields,

Next to the cottonwood stump

Beneath the lilac bush

There, in the hollow of a furled elm leaf

Existed an entire world, albeit small

Everything a world should have, existed there

And primarily love

She smiled at him and held his hand

And watched as the world, her world, ebbed and flowed

And then, when it was time to go

She whispered, "pure joy"

The next week after the last of the cameras had left

The little world was dead and gone

Crushed beneath the big worlds prying eyes, he invited

She whispered, "I'll die"

There are places in this world 

That exist for the hearts of the worthy

There are places in this world

That are not meant for you

My Fault

The moon waxed philosophic at the stars dim outlook

The ice crystals floated and shimmered in the still frozen night air

My toes like frozen twigs, threatening to snap

You put on your sunglasses and tell me you love someone else

These things happen….

The words hang in the icy vapor above your head, leaded

I can’t tell the difference between your breath and your cigarette smoke

You look at me from the corner of your eye disgusted

I should have known I was not good enough to hold your company forever

I can change….

I apologize for not being enough, for not being manly

You exhale; double clouds billow slowly forth against the silvery moonlight

I apologize for being too emotional, not being low maintenance

You scoff and look the other way, across the snow crusted field

If I had another chance….

I gather myself, tear tracks frozen to my cheeks, glistening

You answer a call on your cell phone, voice too loud against this backdrop

I start to head back to the truck

“Yeah…I told him”, you say, to someone who apparently is good enough, for now

My Town

This was inspired by the Stephen Morath painting "Sunset Ride" and the Wall of Voodoo song Mexican Radio with a small nod to the Authority Zero version of the song thrown in cuz their remake was boss.

I feel a hot wind from the border…..
And a touch of a world that is older…..


Sunset makes quick work of slowly developing friendships
This old truck is made for sitting close
Rumbles down the hard pan main drag
You put your head on my shoulder and yawn


I hear the talking of the DJ…..
Can’t understand just what does he say…..


The picture show starts as the sun sets
The clouds hectic, windblown patterns, yellow and beautiful
The movie we have seen a hundred times
The bar we visited a thousand times….the bar it is


I wish I was in Tijuana…..
Eating barbecued iguana…..(sipping fucking ice cold Caguama)


The burgers drip, drip, dripping grease and cheese
Cigarette in one hand, papas fritas in the other
You ask if we can have pie, I say “to go”
You tip too little; I wait until you’re gone and add five


I’m on a Mexican radio…..
I’m on a Mexican, whoa-oh, radio…..


I see Julio sweeping his front stoop briskly
He sees and calls us to join him for brandy
“I have pie” I shout, and raise the bag high, she sighs
She takes the truck and heads out, I will walk


Tomorrow will come hard

She Shimmered

2010.....

Cars were small

Buildings were small

The planet was small

But most of all, the hearts and minds of men were small

2011.....

A baby girl is born on a roundabout, near a clock tower, in Great Britain

Her brain was on the outside and different enough

To keep rhythm with her oversized heart.....bleeding hope

She shimmered as she grew and things evolved

2036.....

Cars were large

Buildings were large

The planet was large

And the hearts and minds of men were large

She didn't have to convince anyone to evolve

She simply opened her mouth and flowers grew

She simply waved her hand and lovers embraced

She shimmered and the universe answered

She Grows Cars

If I have said one thing in my life

That has been the cause of another man’s inspiration

To write something so longing or so sad

Or something that seethes magic or irreverence

It is only because she taunts me squarely

Her long legs and high ass dressed in candy

Lips smooth like the reddest of red carnival glass

Hips custom made for resting my cheek on

She busies herself about the yard

Gathering the seeds I require

Those fucking high heels aren’t for weeding

They are merely there because they match my ears

She places the seeds, burying them with lithe fingers

Tipping the watering can and whispering my name

From the ground sprouts a 65’ Mustang convertible

She glances furtively over her shoulder to see my smile

She is my muse and suffers a fate

Worse than any woman should need endure

Keeping me interested enough in myself

To write my lust as reflected in her eyes

She grows cars