Saturday, July 25, 2009

"Poetic Possibility"

Fragmentation and multiplication-

It's not really nothing more
Than a series of symbols
In isolation-

Regardless of what is said
By those
Who have simply taught
The triumph of the imagination.

It involves
A lot more than that,
Or watch me
Pull a rabbit out of my hat-

Especially considering-

Those who have long,
Or quite suddenly-

Grasped the completely poetic possibility
Of knowing something's there-

Even though
At the exact same moment,
They also know
It's something that they cannot see:

And therein lies the key.

"Wasting Time"

Wasting- wasting time:

Nothing sublime-

Everything ridiculous,
When not totally demoniacal-

And is it all
To losing my mind?

Whims and moods,
And rock and roll attitudes:

And all the rest who
Claim they're perfectly sane-

Taking no apparent notice
Of the fact,
That they're also playing
The same old game...

It could be a hilarious story,
If understood completely:

But that's something
They'll never think to see-

Nor could they hear it,
Even if a babe sang it
Oh, so sweetly-

Wasting- wasting time.

"Any Added Rhyme"

Any added rhyme,
Or now forgotten waste of time:

Greed and gluttony,
Or need and delicacy-

But not at all a slut to me.

Yet narratives are told,
And winters are cold-

And it's not even something
I think you should feel
You have to be impressed by-

For after all,
I just stopped to say hi:

"Hi!"

"Verbal"

Verbal jugglery-

Well, maybe it all
Comes down to you and me?

It may not be some lyric ecstasy-

Nor some conversation
Composed of wantonness and witchery:

Simply verbal jugglery-

Possibly
With teasing
Double meanings-

That rollicks through
An addiction to dreaming:

Dreaming of you.

"The Conversational Girl"

Actual portraits,
Or stuffed idealizations-

Inspired improvisations:

She's the conversational girl...

Thoughts of her fluid form-

Her grace and style
And her beauty,
100 times above the norm.

Dreams and dreams,
And endless shifting themes-

And what it all comes down to,
And what it all means:

Her existence as a counterpoint
To this very strange world-

She's the conversational girl.

"Clothes- ( Old, Torn, Loose, And Unclean )"

Clothes-
Old,
Torn,
Loose,
And unclean-

A homeless man
Stumbling down the street:

Knowing that he's in the world-

Yet apparently
Being patronised by
Some very grotesque dream.

And anything said to him,
When anything is said at all:

Seems so ludicrous-

Whether anyone thinks he is,
Or isn't dangerous-

As he likes to say to himself,
With what little sanity he has left-

Upon the streets of this city,
He's pretty much seen and heard it all...

And he's curious.

"A Few Lines"

A moment's poetry,
Caught in the mind-

Not like the movies-

Just like a dream.

A few lines to scatter on the wind-

Written down quite suddenly-

In these
Out of the blue memories
Of you and me.

Monday, July 20, 2009

"Secrets Of Nations"

Upon an unprecedented scale?

Well, secrets of nations-

And all that goes on
Behind what is presented
As a legitimate facade.

High policies
And strategic plans-

Superficial facts:

And quicksand fiction.

And how much truth
Is being tossed
Into the garbage pails?

Well, no doubt,
Quite a lot:

For politics
Fit better
Into the prearranged slots-

And lying your head off,
Is the politicians' motto
If all else fails.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

"If You Have Heard Voices"

If you have heard voices-
Maybe in a clatter?

Maybe in a sense-

Like glass,
That seems to shatter?

Technically I mean-

As if waking suddenly:
From a dream?

If so-

Then what are the words
Heard recently?

And do they ever mention me?

That is-

If you've heard voices:

That is-

Of course...

If you've really heard voices:

Even if they're all
Speaking
Of different things-

And not a single one,
With another-
Appears to agree:

Out of tune-

And out of key-

And you don't know
Which one to believe...

If you've heard voices:

And have you heard voices?

Have you?

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

"In Her Beauty"

She has
An ethereal substance
In her beauty,
Made up of
The most perfect curves-

That even a glance at her
Can titillate the mind:

And an actual
Look at her
Reveals she moves
Like a cat- who's a spy.

She has
That supreme gift-

That if you're not careful,
Will quickly see you whipped.

A surprise mathematical logic
In her very existence-

And the ability
To give such a love,
That can be seen in her eyes.

Forget the slide rules-

She has
Caressed the soul-

She is like the very essence
Of the purity of pi-

The ratio
Of the circumference
Of a circle
To its diameter:

She's forever hello,
And never goodbye.

She must have come from the sky.

"Indelible Imprints"

The indelible imprints
Which the mind can make:

Sitting,
Listening to old 1960s
Music recordings-

And looking at a photograph
From that area-
Of a girl
With an enigmatic smile,
And knowing eyes-
Draped in the flag of the United States:

Makes you want to stand up,
And give her a salute-

She's beautiful-
And in those knowing eyes,
She's well aware of it too:

She knows
She goes way beyond
Being just another tie-dyed,
Bell bottomed babe,
Who's looking rather
'Summer of Love' hippie cute!

And so what
If I'm thinking what
She must have been like-

As that same era music
I'm listening to-

Plays on and on,
Song after song:

All night long?

"It's As If"

It's as if she just
Doesn't want to see-

Reality-

Blended in with all my fantasies:

As she persistently
Refuses to heed
The voice that calls her-

And that voice is me.

For in my own heart,
Like a manuscript-
I have her name written down
Upon page after page-
That put all together
Would fill a million books:

But from her,
At any given time
That I see her around-

I am seldom blessed
With hardly more
Than a single look:

It's not as if I'm asking
For the world-

I just want her-

Her!

The one
I call
The Beautiful Girl.

"TV ( And The Same Goes For Radio )"

All the stirring plastic scenes-

A great departure:

Modern times-

And the controversy...

But what doesn't amount to a hill of beans?

Participants in the conflict:

Dog and pony shows.

And what's on TV really blows!

And there you go!

Taking away the happiness
From the here and hereafter:

It's all canned laughter.

And for just audio-
The same goes for radio.

"As Seriously As I Should"

Maybe I don't take you
As seriously as I should-
But even when I first saw you,
I didn't think I would.

But after all girl,
I thought you were
Just going to be
A kind of
One-two-three-or-four-night-stand:

Yet here we are now,
Together all the time-
Going places:

Constant smiles to one another-

Stopping to give each other quick,
As well as long French kisses:

Walking down the street,
And holding hands:

It's crazy...

And I've no doubt,
But that it probably won't be long now,
Before I find we're busy making wedding plans-

It wouldn't surprise me:

So maybe it's true-

That I didn't, and don't take you
As seriously as I should.

But it seems the way things
Have turned out,
I need to.

"At First Sight"

At first sight,
She is one
That heightens
The picture:

Like a rock and roll starlet-

Out on tour.

The one with whom,
When she comes along-
You want to make a connection:

The one with whom,
When she appears-
Seems a living love song:

And your eyes
Can only follow
In her direction.

She is one
That passes all inspection-

As to my good opinion,
She is perfection:

Of that I'm sure.

"Everything's For Sell"

Astrologers,
Stargazers-
Monthly prognosticators:

And Washington, D.C.-
Wannabe dictators.

What mayest prevail-

Everything's for sell:

And those actual powers
Behind the scenes,
With their enchantments
And sorceries-

A molten image,
And hidden things-

With every deal to be.

And they've tied up
And gagged the fat lady,
So there's not much chance
That she's
Going to suddenly pop up-
And start to sing.

But with the cameras running,
And folksingers
With their guitars strumming-

All the politicians will gather together:
Release doves,
And say: "See how they take wing!"

Everything's for sell-

And the end of all things.

"Mentioning You"

Mentioning you
In ordinary ways-

The sound of your name-
I like it,
So it's what I say.

Seems I have a chance
Of making the future
Turn out better
Than the past-

That is,
If we get together-

Sit beneath some tree
Upon the spring green grass.

Imaginatively-

I already have you.

But the reality-

Ah, yes- the reality.

Well, the reality's
Entirely up to you.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

"The Artist's Feelings"

The artist's feelings-
Is it always
The artist's feelings?

Like the painting - sculpture
Of the musical-

Different arts-

Sgt. Pepper hearts...

The original Hank Williams:

With "Hey Good Lookin'"
Being sung in London
By three very cheeky
English tarts-

Just a song?

Any song?

Melody,
Rhythm,
And harmony-

The artist's feelings...

Well, no matter-

It still all comes down to
What it means to me...

And I think that's the reality.

"It's Not The Mundane"

It's not the mundane
Matters of living,
When the volume is turned-

And the bridges are burned-

And the music is loud:

The undergirding theme-

In an uncertain world:

Traveling through,
And even before the millennium-

Where even the old songs are,
And were played by laser beam:

I'm not even sure
What I'm trying to say-

But you're okay:

Even if you think
I must be crazy,
And start-
And turn away.

Monday, July 13, 2009

"Babylonians"

Babylonians-
Sometimes people
With their records
Of buying and selling.

Merchants - Babylonians -

Babylonian merchants
With their series of weights
Used to measure...

Clay and mud
From the rivers
Shaped into bricks:

And more buying and selling-

Babylonians.

"Just Want To Be With You (A Song)"

Just want to be with you- (with you).

Not much else-
Can I seem to think of,
That I really want to do-

And it's true- (it's true).

I just want to be with you.

You walk as such sweet love,
And such a beauty-
Upon this earth.

Oh, in this world-

Stealing my heart from me!

And yes, I know
I've placed you on a pedestal
Above all souls-

But when you fall in love-
Isn't that the way it goes?

And with me,
Just by the way
I look at you:

Well, I think
You can see
For yourself
How it shows-

With every thought of you-

This love-

How it continues to grow:

And I just want to be with you...

(With you)-
(With you)-
(With you)-
(With you)-

It's true.

I just want to be with you.

"Just Trying To Get A Date, And She Keeps Saying- NO!"

Now babe,
It's like you're speaking
A foreign language to me:

I'm asking you out for a date-

Which considering it's me,
Should be the thrill of your life-

But I don't understand
This one particular word
You keep using:

I just don't have any idea
What it means...

Now how do you pronounce it- nn, nn, n-no?

Is that the way you say it?

Yes?

Well, isn't that in itself,
Just another way of saying- "yes"?

I know what '"yes" means-
Because that's what most
Of the other ladies say:

I ask them out-

And they give out a little squeal of delight,
And go:
"Yes! Yes!
"Oh, Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Drop dead"?

Is that what you said?

What's that supposed to mean?

Means- what?

Means- "No!" ?

Now see,
There you go using that word again-
And I've already told you,
I haven't a clue what it means!

"Winos Fighting"

Winos fighting
Over a shoe
In a squalid alley-

It's the consumer mentality.

One gives the other's nose a twist-

And there's a scream!

And the nose-twister runs out of the alley-

Yelling: "I've got the shoe!"

It doesn't seem to dawn on him-
That to make a pair, he needs two:

But they were both drunk anyway-
So what can you do?

"Billy Cooley And His Girlfriend"

Dark skies-
The webs of spiders,
And the wings of bats-

Feathers ripped from an owl-
A dead cat,
And a sick muskrat:

As well as the snapping
Of the fingers,
And the giving of a bow-

And of course, flies!
Lots and lots of flies!
All beneath dark skies!

That's what Billy Cooley
Was out in the graveyard doing-
Sudden lightening,
And trouble brewing!

As out of her grave,
Billy's dead girlfriend
Began to rise-

Not a whole lot
Could be said for her remains,
As she held out her hands to Billy-
And tried to smile...

But Billy with one good look,
Just went "ooh."

And ran off screaming:

While his girlfriend,
Still levitating above her grave,
Kept peering about in some confusion-
And asking: "What? What? What did I do?"

Then catching sight of Billy
Disappearing just over the hill-

She gave an evil look,
And began yelling:

"Billy,
"You come back here you little twerp-
"Or I'm going to do bad things to you!"

But he didn't-
And giving chase,
When she caught him:
She did.

" I Can't Stop Thinking About You"

In the lapse of time,
I might find
You'll no longer
Be on my mind-

But so far
That day
Has not arrived.

So what I now say
Is very true-

That no matter what I do:

I can't stop thinking about you.

The years go by,
And how they fly-
Girl, I'll probably
Be thinking about you
Till the day I die!

Through all my days,
With the pain
Remaining the same-

Awaking in the middle
Of the night,
And calling out your name!

Yeah, I know
I must sound
So sad and blue-

But I can't stop thinking about you.

Well, I know when
Something is over,
It's suppose to be over-

But it seems not with me!

And no-
No!
No!
No!

I can't stop thinking about-

You.

"Immeasurably ( Such A Treasure To Me )"

Immeasurably-
Such a treasure to me:

And all that I of course-

Believe.

She-

Draws me...

Calls me...

She is the one
That I could never leave-

Nor set free.

An astonishing one...

The one that my heart
Greatly needed to know:

Can't let go.

No- no- no-

Oh!

Immeasurably!

For so much pleasure
She brings to me-

Something about her
Sings to me-

Poetry...like fantasy!

Do see?

"From Politics"

From politics-

The voices of reason?

Well, it's embarrassing,
And an awareness
That they're really
Not found anywhere-

Just the art
Of promoting
Promises-

Lies
That are like
Late fall leaves
From a tree,
Tumbling down
In the air-

Pick 'em up,
And they'll crumble
In your hand:

And well, you know,
In and of itself,
That exactly was the plan.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

"Neo-Nutritionists Saying"

Neo-nutritionists saying,
"Up the department,"
And doing exercises-
Almost as if they're
Standing on their heads
At the Bronx Zoo-

Never been there-

But as could be pointed out,
Even if you haven't got a clue
As to what I'm talking about-

Some might say,
The zookeepers themselves
Would go- "Shoo, shoo."

Yet they also no doubt believe
They must receive balanced
Nutritious food...

As I'm sitting here,
Listening and watching
All of this on a plasma TV screen-

Makes me wonder
What they're all on-

And that woman's eyes,
Are they aquamarine?

The most beautiful eyes
I've ever seen.

"Elizabeth"

Whether another like her
Here or elsewhere exists-
I do not know.

But she herself
Could create
Whole new institutions
In just the way
She knows how to kiss.

She is bliss.

And her name is Elizabeth.

Elizabeth.

Elizabeth.

Well, it's true, it's true-
You can forget all the rest,
If you've got yourself a girl
Like Elizabeth.

And what with all the love
And care she's given to me.

I find I cannot let her be.

Oh, what more can I say?

She is indeed,
Without a doubt
The very best.

And her name is Elizabeth.

Friday, July 10, 2009

"In Love"

Indubitably-

Positively-

Yes!
True!

Woman,
I'm in love with you!

And I don't think
It's at all
Presumptuous of me,
That without fail-
I want to be
With you every night-
And every day,
Holding you tight-
And ringing your bell-

Yes, I certify-

Baby, you know,
I don't lie!

That when it comes to
Something so special-
As special as you:

Well, I can
And do say,
Indubitably-

Oh, positively-

Yes!
True!

That I'm in love-
I'm in love-
Woman,
I'm in love with you!

You!

Thursday, July 9, 2009

"Official Residence"

Official residence,
Surrounded by rings
Of barbed wire:

Conflict-
Moving at a fast clip:

And who underestimates the politics?

Every government
That is bunkered down-
And those who no doubt,
Wished that they hadn't
Hung around?

Expectations and parties
Going down!

Who's calling the shots?

Politicians talking about freedom-
When what they're really thinking is- "let it rot"?

"The Clockwise Sense"

The clockwise sense-
Going 'round and 'round:

The seconds,
Minutes,
Hours,
Days,
Nights,
And years.

Are we all
Lost in time,
Not realizing anything
Until it's much too late?

Everything slanted
At the angle
That we ourselves
Want it to be-

Not understanding anything-

And not even really wanting to?

"Setting Folly And Neon"

Setting folly and neon
To a heavy beat-
It's become too formulaic,
Not attractive-

Girl,
It's nowhere near imperial-
And it's not sweet:

Which is to say, real-

Yet I'm not trying
To be your walrus,
Nor your fool on the hill-

For you've made it very clear,
That you don't care for me:

Being as you think
You're very smart and lit-

But for all your apparent heat-
Deep inside you're a cold one:

I shiver from the chill.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

"Sometimes She Puts"

Abrupt changes
Of direction
And speed-

Sometimes she puts forth
The image of total
Indifference-

And that for a fact,
Comes from
The philosophy
Upon which she feeds:

That she is
The very point
Of the word
"Elegance."

Everything else
Is abstract-

That in her beauty,
All she has to do is be!

She is a trance...

And a tease.

"I Can Look"

Above the multitude-
The heights in my mind,
Where I sit in attitude:

I can look
At this whole
Wide-screen
American thing-

But I'd just as soon
Stay with the verse,
And wax philosophic-

Because I know
Where I belong-

Endlessly giving a sing
To this:

"My Forever Southern Song".

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

"All The Noise"

Films,
Magazines,
Newspapers-
Radio,
TV-
Blogs,
Web sites-

A cat's curiosity
At the mad state
Of the world-

And also
Great dismay.

And the precise nature
Of what you mean-
When you say,
You long for
The dawning
Of a brand-new day:

But maybe
You can't even put it
Into words
To explain?

So you
Just shake your head,
And walk away-
Into the gathering darkness
Of the night:

Disappearing down
Some lonely street...

And it's quiet.

"To Stand"

To stand between truth and error-
Between light and darkness:

Between angelic bliss
And demonic terror...

A sense of all worlds-

The one you're existing in,
As well as the ones
You can sometimes feel-

Yet are seldom seen:

Except in sudden,
Quickly fleeting visions,
Revelations,
And dreams...

With every relation thereto-
Going all the way back to Eden,
The garden of God...

And before-

Even though your perception is,
That you've been drifting
Your whole life through.

"For All / For All"

For all who have stood fast-

Even with the foreknowledge
Of what might well be
The frightful chasms
Of the future-

But still remembering,
And holding onto
The good things of the past:

And the willingness to learn...

Even though lies,
And more lies-
Has constantly greeted
The ears and eyes
In this world,
At every turn...

Yes, it's for all-

For all-
For all-

For all who understand:

That as there is a God in Heaven:

So there is a plan.

Monday, July 6, 2009

"Beautiful Caroline"

Beautiful Caroline,
You know, you can
Shine- shine- shine-

Sometimes you can seem
Quite vulnerable-

But you know,
You can be mine-
Caroline?

Yes, Caroline is something
Very fine- sensational:

Dark hair,
Brown eyes-

Beautiful Caroline.

Caroline,
Hear me-

Caroline,
Bring yourself
Near me-

I need you now, Caroline!

Caroline.

Beautiful...

Caroline.

"Somewhere in Rural Iowa ( exact year, or even decade- unknown )"

Quietly the absurdity-

The absurdity.

Sing-song.

A visitor from another world...

Intriguing-

But the responsibility
Is in pointing out the absurdity-

That the visitor from another world,
That was seen walking through
The cornfield late that night-

Was just a circus clown,
Who had gotten drunk-
Had a fight with his wife,
And fallen off the back of
A nearby passing circus train:

But we emptied our guns into him anyway-

Mainly because none of us had ever liked clowns.

"Folk-Lore And Folk-Song"

The enshrined
In folk-lore
And folk-song,
And all that
Which belonged:

Whether how to tell a tale,
Or how to sing a song.

Play the violin,
Or should it be called a fiddle?

Standing alone
On a strange,
Shimmering-
Ghostly afternoon:

Taking in mentally already,
The mysteries of the coming night...

With the rising of the moon,
Very full-

And somewhere,
I can feel-

The wolfsbane's in bloom...

Soon it will be twilight.

"Today ( Is Like All The Others )"

Evergreens
Surrounding
The cemetery.

And somewhere,
A songbird sings.

But today
Is like all the others...

For though
I've waited
Ever so faithfully:

The one I loved-

She never visits my grave.

I think she's forgotten about me.

"Southern Poetry Statement"

Poetry...
Poetry...
Poetry...

The language I use,
The Southern language-
Tried and true:

The literary folk rhythm,
And poetic pattern-

Somewhat from the continental
European village,
But mainly of the British Isles-

And not in the style
Of the Latin
Of the ancient
Roman nobility,
Or in the perceived
Optimum academic cadence
Of the classical Greek.

No- nor by any means,
The media darling-
Verbal debauchery,
That runs-
And smears like snot,
Out of the so-called:
American East Coast elite!

For me-
It's none of that at all...

It's just the language I use,
The language of the South-
Tried and true:

The words I was born to,
Raised in-

From birth,
The words heard and used
Down through the generations-

And understood by the Southern people:

Let me tell you now-

I know what I do.

"Words, Words, Words"

Words, words, words,
And the concern was:

That-

What with recent scholarship,
Which was totally made up
With politicians'
And magicians' tricks:

To prove what wasn't,
Was actually there-

If not careful:

Would all come off
Sounding like
Some old
Protest '60s' acid trip:

And it did!
It did-
It did-
It did-

Into it-

So many!

Like a fool:

They slid...

And therefore
In essence,
Nothing was left:

But words...

Words, words, words,
And the concern was:

And it does-

Just like this.

"You"

The air-

Air-

Breathe:

Sky...

In the day.

And the birds overhead,
And how they do fly:

Here and there-

Night...

Also their song
In the morning,
Greets and follows me
As I walk down the street-

And I look up,
And there-

Through it all:

The sky-

Blue...

And I miss you.

You set me free
As I demanded,
But now I no longer
Even understand it-

And I miss you.

"Pop Poetry"

No claim for a reservoir
Of literary achievements-

No claim for a flow
Of legendary created verse:

Not here-

Not here-

No,
Just a bit of
Lyric work-
Lyric work-

Often in the vein of this...

That is posted periodically,
As you can see:

Internet pop poetry,
If you will-

Thank you.

"Time To- / Time To-"

Time to write,
Time to read...

Read-

Revelation,
Random thoughts...

Maybe not an innovator-

And not always behaving-

And what do you know...

Or Edgar Allan Poe?

This though,
Is not a monologue-

Not a dialogue...

Not a walk upon
A 19th century street
Of cobblestones:

Poetics-

Poetry...?

No, just a bit of verse-

Lyrics-

A touch of song.

"Anonymous?"

Anonymous?

Well,
I think not-

Anonymous indeed!

Possibly some singular beguiling bits-
Thrown into some anthology:

But only
If it has my name
Beneath each entry-

For what's the point,
If nobody knows it's me?

Anonymous?

Did you say,
Anonymous?

Well,
Like
I
Said,
Said,
Said,
I think not-

Anonymous indeed!

For I've always
Had my days and nights-

Arranged
According
To
Whatever ideas
At the moment,
That I might be flying
Like a kite-

Even if it's the old familiar-

With curios to add a sense of slang:

Sometimes rather excessively maybe-

But anonymous?

Well,
I can say
For sure,
That's just not me-

Anonymous indeed!

"The Notion That-"

The notion that
Merely to sit
And brood,
Can be-

And for many is,
Enjoyment.

Or to be
The world master
Of the cynical-

And not even to give a kick-

Against the cobwebs.

Is the notion that-

In every such emotion that-

'Tis true.

"Whatever Is Imaginable Before Me"

Oh, well-

Well?

What?

Well?

Whatever-

Well-

Oh, well!

Whatever is imaginable before me-
Anything and everything...

Though maybe not real:

Yet everything in my mind that I can see-

And not just in outline:

But all in living color, and 3-D...

And I would think with everyone-
That's either the way it is,
Or at least-
How it really ought to be:

Now...

Indeed!

"Words ( Just Words )"

Words-

Not the words
Of the academies:

Just words...

Words:

And maybe walking
Across the ocean-
Stopping for the night,
And building a campfire
Upon the surface of the sea-

Words...

Just words:

In this particular piece-
No more than just so many
Words to me.

"Always Suddenly"

Always suddenly
In memory,
You stand before me:

No longer the way
Things are-
But the way
Things used to be:

When I could always
Be sure of your love-

And that you really
Cared for me!

But it's only in memory:

And I don't want
To live on memory-

So I set myself free.

"Never Static"

Never static-
People always
Moving:
From those
Who are as slow
As a turtle,
To those
Who are as fast
As a rabbit-

But never static:

Never static...

Look around and see,
Every day-
Their hopes and dreams:
A continuous work
Of balancing,
Condensing,
Or expanding:

Millions upon millions
Endlessly coming in
For a three-point,
Or crash landing:

Dealing with their reference data-

But never static.

"Immediately The American"

Immediately the American-

On a daily basis...

Immediately the American-

If a problem arises:

Has a plan...

Or not-

Understand.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

"A Few Lines In Regard To The Cheshire Cat"

I do not believe
That there can be
Any argument
When it comes
To the fact-

That there have always been those
Who have their own ideas
Concerning the Cheshire cat-

Well, you know:

The whole the point of
Its ceaseless grinning...

Could it be that
Maybe earlier on,
It suddenly realized
It knows where it's at?

"Cravings"

Philosophical subtlety-
Or soap subs:

Or multi-track recordings-
With some new added dubs.

A work of art even-
Hung on a wall:

Very optically engaging-

Even if seen as negligible-
By those,
When compared to
The supposed latest
Miracle herb:

Which can create
An atmosphere
Of such a bee hive mentality-

Inciting no end of
New Age raving:

As if making
Lots and lots
Of money,
Is not also involved-

And is that
What you were craving?

"Her Every Move"

Her every move
Is mentally choreographed,
Before she makes it-

Almost down
To every step,
Before she takes it:

She struts
Like a magazine model
Being photographed-

Walking down the street:

She's not the kind
Of a girl
To scuff and scruff-

She's very well aware of herself,
And she knows enough:

Another enchantment of the world-

Kind of reminds me
Of a music video,
Or some movie:

Or like she's
Putting on a live performance
Of a day in the life of a Manhattan girl-

Even though she's never
Been outside the state of Alabama:

But anyone
Can just imagine,
When she sleeps-

What she dreams...

The stage and screen.

Friday, July 3, 2009

"Sleep - Dream"

To sleep-

Dream...

Sometimes-

Floating...

Sometimes-

Flying...

Sometimes-

Within the reach
Of the stars
And the moon.

But always I awake,
And the dream vanishes...

And I realize girl:

I still don't have you.

"Navigating Through Time"

Navigating through time-

That's what we're all doing.

Following the frequency-

That leads us on and on and on.

Navigating through time-

And while doing so...

Look around long enough-
And you really ought to realize,
That no matter what you've been told:

You can row, row, row your boat
As much,
Or as little as you want to-

And yet it still doesn't make life but a dream.

"Read It Now"

You're reading it now-

Maybe not heeding it:

But if you're here,
And your eyes are
Scanning it-

Then you're reading it now.

And the question should arise:

"What am I reading?"

Well, of course,
If it's this-

Which it must be,
If you're reading it now:

It's now what you're reading...

So in essence-

What you're reading,
Is me more or less
Simply repeating-

You're reading it now.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

"The Sense Of The Image Of Elvis In The '70s"

1977
And the mortal remains
Of Elvis Presley in his casket
With rumored applications
Of mortician's wax-

Yet Elvis Presley only
A few years before
In an armchair-

Attempting astral projections-

With an exaggerated
Sense of a need
Of supplication
To someone-
Anyone:

While possibly
Reminiscing back
To his contact
With the pre-Watergate
Nixon Administration:

Revealing to Nixon
In the Oval Office-

His opinion
Of the hippie
Drug culture,
And the Beatles:

Plus tax...

And to be sure-

The image of Elvis
In the '70s:

Along with Las Vegas,
And his constant cross-country,
And seemingly endless tours:

Elvis wasn't from Mars-

Elvis was a rock and roll star.

"This Lyric Blog"

Upon my part,
Only some additional
Attempt at augmentation
In explanation of the theme- themes?

Concerning this lyric blog.

Along with-

Or if you want to,
An electric guitar-

To rock and wail with-
To your own personal observations:

Like finding yourself
On the road to Mandalay,
Or even old Shangri-La.

It's what you read it to mean...

The Internet-

As if it's psychic-

The crypto-spiritual:

Though staying solidly
Within the physical-

No interest in suddenly
Warping someplace else.

Simply sitting comfortably
In front of your computer screen...

And if that's the case-

Then be my quest,
And read on-

Whether you're taking it
Seriously,
Or only as song:

For it is what it is-

And what it is-

Is a lyric blog.

"Old Hong Kong"

Old Hong Kong-

The six images-

Dragons-

And iron:

Psychological undercurrents-

And paper.

So let us explore
The mysteries of telepathy-

Subliminal-

And other faces:

And what do you
Think of
When it's miles away?

When it's tomorrow-

When it's now-

When it's yesterday?

"Fundamentally True"

The striving
To be more lyrical,
Like music-

Of temperament
And spirit:

And those moments
When you know it's time-
To take your mind,
And clear it.

Not that you'll see
Everything as new-

No, just the act
Of getting back-

To the basic things...

That like a child,
You've always known
To be fundamentally true.

Such as those-

Though their hearts
Have been so badly broken:

Leaving them in despair...

Will meet somebody new-

And try to love again.

"The Proper Respect"

Every survey
Of ancient history
And tradition-

And the continued interest
In the physical remains
Of long dead Egyptian:

Especially-

With the deciphering
Of the Rosetta stone...

And though
It's not as if
There's anything
Wrong with reading
And studying
The writings
On tombs
And temples-

It does make you wonder,
When it comes to
These same ancient Egyptians-

If sometimes
They wouldn't mind
Very much-

At least for a while,
Just to find themselves
Being left alone?

That is-

When you consider
The endlessly disturbing
Of their peaceful slumber,
After having been asleep
For so very long?

Though I'll admit
To as much curiosity
As anyone else-

I can't deny-

But that it is fascinating...

Yet I think
There is also such a thing
As making a point
Of simply knowing when
To show the proper respect.

"Reference To You"

To provide a reference to you-

Whenever I think of it-

Which I can assure you,
Is quite often.

It's just something
That I like-

Or rather should I say,
Love to do?

Because I do...

Simply to work all my memories
Of you in somehow-

And provide a reference to you.

"This Poetry? / Unruly?"

This poetry?

Unruly?

Well, excuse me...

It just doesn't matter to me:

If many or any,
Both of which there are plenty-

Say I've impoverished the suppleness
Of what is supposed to be the established verse script:

So what if it's seen
As neither cool nor hip?

Or upon the old literary radar-
It doesn't even pick up a single blip?

For accordingly-

To me:

It's always been...

Lyrics- lyrics- lyrics-

Like a product for your perusal
In a mall or a market:

Open 24 hours-

Come hither-

Night or day!

"And- Who?"

Books-

Histories of the world...

Lies and sick philosophies:

And- who withstands Satan...

And what secretive organizations,
And criminal politicians
With the treasonous workings
Against their own nations,
Are giving him a whirl?

And- who?

Who?

"Compassionate Thing"

She's a compassionate thing-

At home
And at
The workplace...

It's almost like she sings!

She's a compassionate thing-

Such a compassionate thing-

Sweet and honest!

She's a compassionate thing-

Such a compassionate thing-

Very revealing:

Because that
Makes her
The one
Everybody's sure
To take advantage of.

But she knows how to love.

"Sentimental"

To get all sentimental,
And then attempt
To write a bit of verse-

Well, you know,
Filled with great eloquence,
Concerning all of my love for you:

Striving to be so very poetic-

But no doubt,
Instead-
Coming off
Like some run-of-the-mill
Love-struck fool.

Sometimes I get it into my mind,
That I can completely spellbind:

Only to turn around,
And realize-

That I've totally lost
The entire consistency
Of the rhyme.

But babe,
You always look,
And smile at me-
Seeming very pleased:

For you love the words
I've put together
For what they mean-

Even though a poet
I may not be.