poems

The Rainmakers

anger

 

 

Standing alone
In the freezing rain
Among the insane
There is no pain
There is no gain.

The thrill of the fight
The rush while in flight,
Away we go . . . into the night.

Standing alone
Wanting to scream
But it’s not easy to scream
In this fucked up dream.

Where the bullets are slow
And my barrel is bent.
And my target
Will never stay down.

Standing alone
In the rain
Among the crying, among the dying
Watching war go round.

Again-and again-and again.

 

On The Road To Evermore

chain

As I gaze upon your radiant soul
You live on that faraway plane.
And I see great difficulty adjusting
To this heavy vibration again.

To do-to do
To go-to go
Oh where-oh where?
You do not know.

Like the rest of us who congregate
Upon this plane of pain
You balance between the hall of greatness
And the home of the insane.

What’s your name? What’s your game?
And what is mine as well?
Who will stop to listen?
Who will shun the call to Hell?

A voice that cries within the void
Having no one there to hear.
Will those words just float away
Will they disappear?

The helping hand of our Mother Earth
Reaching down to ease our pain.
Finds rejection for all it’s worth
Again-and again-and again.

But Her teachings are eternal
And her teachings never go.
For they bear the keys to God’s back door
They share His Word via nature’s glow.

Does anyone even hear us? Is anyone even near us?
Does anyone even notice when we shout and scream?
Has the gulf between us grown so wide
They see us living in a dream?

Do they never faintly fain awareness
As they walk their streets of gold?
And they blindly follow fairy tails
That they’ve been told since days of old?

Streets of gold – streets of gold vibrating heavily
Upon a plane of heavenly crud
Mixed in a sea of heavenly mud
Created by the gushing of our Mother’s blood.

What to do? What to do? As we move upon this distant shore
And long for the road to Evermore.
And the keys to unlock their stubborn door.
And welcome them to the land of Evermore. . . for ever more.

Enough

enough pollution

I want to write a love poem . . . sweet and easy.
I want to find a way to say the golden things
The things with wings.
I want to mimic Gibran . . . and Rumi too
I want to write a love poem . . . I do I really do.

I sit at the break of day
When the hush of morn surrounds.
I think of all those loving things
where peace and love abounds.
A thought so strong it births a tear
Takes me back to a better year . . .

BUT ALL I HEAR . . .

Across the hilltops flying high
Are cries from earth
And water
And sky.

ENOUGH! ENOUGH! . . . we say
IF you wish to live another day!
ENOUGH! ENOUGH!! ENOUGH!!!

The First Marriage

marriage-ringsIn the beginning there was Intelligence and there was Energy….that’s all there was.

One day while traveling the Great Void Intelligence happened upon Energy.

Being enamored with Her shimmering beauty He knew He must have Her . . .

He proposed………

She accepted……

Instantly the great marriage experience (later to be called the Big Bang) ensued.

When Intelligence and Energy became one their orgasm flung the seeds of Creativity throughout the Great Void.

The physical universe was formed, Stars, Solar systems, and the smaller planets appeared.

The Earth, being a favored child of the Two, was scattered with the seeds of a million creations, each one having the ability to reproduce and change evolutionary direction as seemed fitting to insure its survivability in the highly competitive environment.

You see…………..forget the religious/science debate……it’s all about SEX!

Chasing Rabbits

chasing rabbits

“Bang, bang, you’re dead!” Tommy yells from the thick woods bordering our back yard. “Ha! I got you right between the eyes! You’re dead!”

Tommy’s laughter recedes.

“Bravo One, Bravo One, this is Delta, Over . . . Bravo One, this is Delta, over.” Again and again the same agitated voice. “Bravo one. Can you read me? Over.”

My pounding heartbeat all but silences the incessant static of the radio lying somewhere to my side. I’m trying to find the handset, trying to answer. My ears are ringing. My eyes struggle to focus . . .

‘Blood! Oh shit! What happened? Roll over. Crawl away. Move!’

Nothing works.

Blurred, ghost-like images move swiftly towards me. I hear excited, sing song voices and struggle against the panic seeking to engulf me. I close my eyes and attempt to merge with the mud I am lying in.

“Help me,” a voice moans to my left. I hear cursing to my front. The low cough of an AK47 shatters the stillness. Pleading screams followed by more shots, curses . . . more shots.

The shooting ends as quickly as it had started. The enemy melt into thick underbrush and vanish into the early morning haze.

I try to roll over . . . to escape into the jungle before they return, but my legs have detached themselves from my brain and are doing a strange mud dance of their own.

I think of my dad, years ago, laughing as Buster the old coon hound runs in his sleep by the fireplace, “He’s chasing rabbits,” dad says to me.

Tommy laughs at me lying beneath the old oak tree playing dead and pokes me with the butt of his BB gun. “Gotcha, Jimmy. Ha! You’re dead.”

Revival

Pissing and moaning, sighing and groaning

We sit here and cry in our beer.

Why me? Ask we, to the man in the sky

And to all most willing to hear.

 

Our toys they are many, our food it is plenty

Yet we buckle in woeful depression.

As we think of lost gold and bonus untold

In this last goddamned recession!

 

But thanks be to our name we have lost not the game

As our House puppet friends will save us.

The presses will run as they steal from our son

But our asses will shine from the gift that they gave us.

 

Next time we’ve learned to be careful

And not overboard our greed

We’ll steal just the same (of course) but we must change our name

And adapt to the new ‘social’ breed

 

We’ll start a foundation and give to the needy

We’ll stop all the shit that made us look greedy

A full 10% we will give to the poor, of that we can assure

The 90 that’s left? Expenses not theft

And of course as an onus, the large Christmas bonus.