Footsteps

He heard them in the following again,

just the faintest thud in the darkness

of the maze is storage buildings,

those feet always waiting until he walked

before they would move.

 

His heart pounded so hard

when he summoned that memory

about the first time he was aware

those black figured beings had watched from a distance,

how he could feel them so close

saw them in nightmares,

but they stayed out of sight.

 

It drove him insane with fear,

any second they could suddenly become abductors

then like his co-workers

none would hear of him again.

 

Inside his stomach juices burned

the paranoia and anxiety were eating like an acid,

if only he hadn’t looked in the file

where the formula was located,

it was too late for that,

there was only one escape

by drinking one of two formula versions,

one promised possible psychotic episodes

afterwards the chemicals would metabolize

into maggots that devour your organs

a second offer a chance to become invisible,

finally free from his stalkers.

 

That door knob would barely turn

on the warehouse building,

at midnight it was eerie enough in this alley,

which was made it so much more terrifying

when the sounds of those feet were now racing towards him.

 

Body shaking out of pure panic,

fingers fumbling to force the door open,

sweaty hands struggling to get a decent grasp on the knob,

lips fighting the urge to scream,

mercifully he was at least able to make it inside.

 

Then he slammed the door shut,

locked the bolt

just before he could hear them pounding outside

to try and break it down,

a few steps and he made it to the shelf,

on it was his only hope,

however the two blue vials had no labels,

no way to know which one contained the transparency serum,

only there was no time to wait,

right hand grabbed the vial on the left and swallowed its contents

and then….

Destination

Each step I took

brought a tear,

the sky always leaden

and threatening.

 

Hope's wind

never touched my life,

leaving my heart

strangled

in the beguiling shadows

of loneliness.

 

Until I came

upon your face,

seeing in your merciful eyes

a sanctuary ending my travail,

where love became

my destination.

 

Perfection

Each heart

conquered,

hoping

he will be perfect

as father.

 

Slaying after sex

when disappointed,

always looking for

someone satisfying as dad,

burying papa

before failing health

ruined his divinity.

The Stage Of Sweat

The planks of performance were shaken like an earthquake

where the ache of toil and dew from sweat

might have been swallowed by that recession black hole,

so I tend to my cracked chair of duty

happy that it is still a vending machine that dispenses a paycheck.

Revolving Revolutions

The world will still spin in 2010,

while some plot to make it stop,

but they will just be out of control

lost in the space between their ears.

 

Others will grab a hold of an old anchor that is rusty,

yet at least it keeps us from being dizzy

as so many fall down from twirling in their rebellion.

 

Black Hole In My Mind

A vortex sucks thoughts from my brain,

one second I know the universe’s secrets

the next I can’t remember a single thing.

 

It is the space I can’t fly that spins away my creativity

and it is connected mysteriously to my dryer

where I know that socks vanish.

 

What worries me is like the universe

that vacuum seems to be growing

for every day something else seems to be hard to find,

wish Spock was still around to explain it

or Scotty to beam me away from feeling  out of control.

Preserved

Leftovers aspirations

sheltered from truth's sun,

cardio ice box

set with thermostat

on chilled amnesia.

 

Shaping vision

in frozen gazes,

created expectation's

refuge

from disappointment's

tundra.

 

Building snowman excuses

for lack of snowshoe faith,

conjuring abominable mutations

threatening possibilities,

frigid self imprisonment

defined

as security

instead of morgue resignation.

Tracks

When the heart slides along the empty rails

safe from any fierce and fast chase,

heart never embarrassed to feel the times

fear drives its nail into the spine,

and panic pounds each vein,

there is no thunder for there is no storm,

no lightning to strike as an excited flash.

 

For the dare to faint in trek of the fantastic,

risk any imagined threat to safety’s evil,

rides the track of unveiling,

the sojourn towards the deeper inner truth,

to find the path that tests the self

unclothed by masks or costumes.

 

Though the danger seers will forecast doom

who avow such faithful devotion

unto dwelling in stagnant security

though numb in their joy and expectancy.

 

Upon each jaunt into the unknown

even when it jars the body or shakes the spirit,

it is the race that summons the exuberant tides,

to those who savor the stimulus

of what stirs enthusiastic vibes within.

 

From a distance those who never

bought a ticket or even stood in line

they hide being envious

behind their soliloquy of excuses.

Stolen

Kiss me

when you pick my pocket

because all it has

is the fake bills

printed by your lies.

 

Too bad you used them

as down payment on my heart,

never told me

you were a thief of love

and making payments

with counterfeit promises. 

Upgraded Yule

Santa was trying to keep up with the times,

wanted an upgrade for his reindeer names

something artfully modern and a real catchy feast,

new titles that you could sink your teeth into

and make him so proud on Christmas Eve

when he put on his special delivery pants.

 

So he asked his merry elf workers

as they did their whistle while you work carol,

to help make his wish for change to come true,

gave them a think break to create

a super, stupendous stellar selection

of fantabulous, futuristic deer magical moniker.

 

Well they huddle and confabbed

then used a hammer or two on their heads,

before coming up with some new ones,

which they based on computer lingo

figured it was the best way to go.

 

Now Santa can call out those words

after saying, “On.”

Bet the kids will be so impressed

while he shouts the new creations,

“Databaser, Debugacer, Paraller, Vectorixen,

Cachet, Cyberid, Domainer, Backupzen.”

 

At least Microsofttail missed the list.

Dawn's goo

Race to be the first to capture the precious prize

do it in a hurry, seeing the crown with your closed eyes.

But while you running towards that trophy

rest assured you'll no doubt act a little weird and dopey.

 

For being ahead of the game

maybe an admirable aim,

however sleeping in with gloriously grin

doesn't lead to sweat's slimy chagrin.

 

Using soap is cleaner than running for some of dawn's wormy goo

it doesn't taste that good, but at least your nostrils won't scream phew!

Home All Blown

This is nuts, I’m going get frostbite

my mom wanting to make me

into a child movie star

dressed me up in this snow suit costume

to attend the casting call

of Tim Burton’s new flick

about some kid left home alone

and gets turned into Frosty

by a deranged wicked thermostat,

yeah is crazy version of Home Alone,

called Home All Blown.

 

Who next this many would show up,

can’t believe she thinks

I’m going to be the n ext Maculay Culkin,

hope my nose does fall of from being frozen

while I wait from my turn

at trying out for the lead.

Gone Fishing

Pisces goes fishing for imagination and sensitivity,

is intuitive, sympathetic, secretive and vague.

And oh do these Pisces born lives have something to say,

Bernadette Peters, “…be original, … if you're like someone else, what do they need you for?”  

Billy Crystal, “Women need a reason to have sex. Men just need a place.”

Carl Reiner, “A lot of people like snow. I find it to be an unnecessary freezing of water.”

Dr. Seuss, “If I were invited to a dinner party with my characters, I wouldn't show up.”

Erma Bombeck, “Marriage has no guarantees. If that's what you're looking for, go live with a car battery.”

 

Elizabeth Taylor, “I've only slept with men I've been married to. How many women can make that claim?”

Michael Caine, “My name is Michael Caine - not a lot of people know that.”

Liza Minelli, “I believe all drunks go to heaven, because they've been through hell on Earth.”

Bruce Willis, “I wake up in the morning and there I am just laughing my head off.”

Harry Caray, “I've only been doing this fifty-four years. With a little experience, I might get better.”

 

What better way to help a Pisces than to give them a horoscope for this month,

so beware an argument with furniture could escalate into a need

for a seizure in remodeling.

Rehearsals

I repeat the chant of I think I can,

over and over until I truly believe

with enough time and effort

somehow I can do a single deed

and never make a mistake.

 

How it feels so good

that first rehearsal without a blunder,

just so amazing high on the experience,

convinced I can repeat the same quality

time and time again.

 

Strut home proud and confident

next day I will get the same results

slowly allowing myself to dream

of being free from any future goof ups,

happily lost in that new reality

only existing in my head

that I can dwell in that flawless land,

far from the cracks and holes in my own existence.

 

Morning I marched so boldly

back to my desk to repeat my other victory over errors,

only all my time spent polishing my performance

didn’t keep my fingers from getting a bad case

in the fumbles and trembles of muscle spasms,

those I could control or make never happen,

thus I learned continued effort sure makes me inspired

for the once in a thousand occasions

things totally go right,

it can keep me motivated to not giving up

while surviving the 999 events

when things go wrong.

The New Happy Hour

Times are tough and the world’s insane,

so now is the occasion to bring some joy,

no more fretting over drinking age,

it’s been lowered to eight

since the new President was elected

on a promise of making life a happy hour.

 

Thanks to the expanded market

drinks now only cost a buck,

fresh fruit added to satisfy

the surgeon general’s nutrition standards.

 

As an added incentive

for the new crop of young patrons

a ruby ducky given away

with each three drinks purchases.

 

Liberal laws applied

in order that kids on tricycles

don’t risk getting a DUI.

 

It’s cheers and lunacy as the order of the day,

everyone burping and truly smiling,

news broadcast ignored by laughter

while bathtubs everywhere

are becoming over populated by rubber ducks.

An Annual Occasion For A Cerebral Elation Genesis

Oh the ides of January so bear

the call in the thirteenth day of voice,

a tangential whisper of winter morn’s resuscitation

for the vernal wisp of lucid fancy

that begs to be released as the New Year’s Eve

sprite of dementia’s liberty.

 

Alas this beckons my soul to pure imagination

to dip in the murky waters of abhorrence

and set free that imp of cranial mania cravings.

 

So the mind is infused with the pubescent,

sophomoric lure of lunacy.

Slowly it takes over and possess my reason

until visions come to obey

those slapstick Three Stooges spirits,

I become a catharsis incarnation of bedevilment

nothing can deter me from the urge

for envisioning antics to shudder every nerve.

 

Hence I parade around in a costume

of feigned psychopathic surges,

 

works wonders for things

such as getting want you want

from sales people and always having

plenty of empty chairs around me

when going to the theater.

 

Still debating over the proper resolution

since this maniacal transformation

comes with so many perks.

 

Brownies

Brownies are the perfect holiday treat

when made with water from gutter sleet,

after stepped in by dog poop stuck to somebody's feet,

how it makes an ideal dessert for your enemies to eat.

 

Add some Exlax to make sure they totally relax

until the runs are draining down their leg’s backs,

then the gas will bring such an array of foul attacks

and you can smile over giving them some deserving snacks.

 

Then follow the secret baker’s special coca flour recipe,

which is always shared on a kneed to know criteria.

OF NIGHT AND LUSTER

The fickle

and tyrannical torch

of duty

slips me

into the obsidian feast.

Within the multi-chasms

where the mind is fed

I feel the polished

inklings

setting fire

to my soul.

They burn

as shining emblems

among the stars,

which I wear

as my dreams.

Clouds

fill my void

till the world

no longer seems as bleak.

It’s beginning to look a lot like Debt Must

It’s beginning to look a lot like Debt Must

Everyway I’m poor,

Take a look at the what I had spend, now I’m broke again

With credit cards maxed and bank account drained.

 

It's beginning to look a lot like Debt Must

Creditors lurking everywhere,

But the worst site I see is the bill meant for me

left at my front door.

 

A pair of gift cards and money by the yards

Is the wish of Barney and Ben;

Computers that can talk and more money than chalk

Is the hope of Janice and Jen;

And Mom and Dad are worried over when their unemployment will end.

 

It’s beginning to look a lot like Debt Must

Everyway I’m poor,

There’s stuff for free at the dump, to help get us through the slump.

They’re not to bad when they have no moldy lump.

 

It's beginning to look a lot like Debt Must

Soon the bankruptcy will start

And the thing that’ll make you sing is the judge stopping the collector’s ring

As stress relief for your heart.

 

 

Frosty You Jerk!

Thanks a lot buddy,

some pal you turned out to be,

over in the magical snow land

you painted this job as heaven,

just stand and around,

appear stiff to give the kids a smile.

 

And boy was I so good,

all those children loved me,

so impressed they gave me a special carrot,

plus some nice new lumps of coal

boy was I the perfect snowman sight.

 

That dirty rat, Frosty,

never mentioned the risk of a getting shaved,

sure have expected his excuse

for having me take this lot

instead of doing it himself

was as lame as it sounded

when he claimed he was allergic

to those trees on this block.

 

Well too late for me

hope that machine don’t cut me in too,

there’s no disability in my kind of work,

pray I don’t end up a bunch of snow cones,

because being eaten by little mouths

is now way for a snowman to die!

The Acme Gift-O-Matic 5000

Now’s your chance to enjoy

the best Christmas ever,           

with the new, innovative invention

the Acme Gift-O-Matic.

 

Why put up with that person

who pisses you off  and drives you insane,

when you can use this fabulous machine

and wrap them up as present.

 

Ah, the joy, such incredible thrills

once you’ve boxed up

your boss, mother-in-law,

dead beat uncle or anyone else

then sent them off to somebody you hate.

 

Yes, is the only way

to mak the holiday perfect.

And with each purchase

you get six fruit cakes

from two years ago,

stick them in the box

so you can at least avoid

somebody claiming that those you wrapped

didn’t have anything to eat.

 

We offer a complete delivery option

though you probably aren’t too concerned

about if your package arrives,

(hint, hint, wink, wink).

Still we’ll make sure it get to the right address

even if it only makes it in come

for next year’s Christmas.

Yesterday, I danced under the stars, today I am...

a plummeting meteorite

from that silvery sugar rush

of my comet splurge in donuts

on way to weight watchers meeting.

When I was younger, I always wondered why...

aged minds had not eyes

to see pearls my gaze beheld,

then with old tired orbs

I discovered oysters

and appreciated

maturity’s wisdom always perceives

with more than one glance.

They’re Red Ain’t They?

Was the holiday season and at work

my scrooge boss apparently had some revelation,

said was got filled with the Christmas spirit

had three ghost visit him to scare him into changing,

the fact that he described them as looking like strippers,

made the idea that his rum egg nog

perhaps was the real source of his vision.

 

But he decided we would have a office party,

then got even more inspired and suggested

we let the new personal manager be in charge

of hosting the big event,

even though he was Mr. Conservative and dull

I figured at least it was better

than the years we did nothing.

 

Oh the look in that human resource man’s eyes

surely was so amazing, even show a tear

left me convinced he was so happy

that he would make it incredibly fantastic.

 

Well we kept checking in with him

each day he boasted this would be so memorable,

the we all left at five so he could decorate

so we could come back at seven thirty

for the best party you could imagine.

 

Never did we dream this guy was a closet redneck,

until we saw his weekend wheels in the parking lot.

 

Did worry us, but figured it had to get better,

inside was a shock he had deer antlers dressed with Christmas lights,

a mule in the corner, that he said was a yule log

by then to drunk judging from the empty bourbon bottles

so he could think straight, no idea where he got the mule.

 

Oh it got worse, had bass painted silver

hung from strings attached to the ceiling,

really didn’t help that he decided to clean them

while they were hanging,

the sight of those fish guts on the floor

did nothing for our cheer,

made worse when some feel on the table

where he had the pickled egg, pig’s feet and some cake

must have made it himself

looked like a mutant meat loaf

with a bass fish tail sticking out the side.

 

Stunned, all my boss could mumble was,

how do you figure fish innards are decorations,

our drunk as a skunk party host just asked

‘they’re red, ain’t they?”

Then fell back and passed out.

The Breath Of Hope

Wisps of white drift as ghost over the land,

white by her lips have brought their chilled spell

with the wintry charms of icy stillness.

But it is all an enchanted inspiration

for it halts the racing mind,

under her frozen ivory blanket

the dreamer rises to skate

across her crafted alabaster sculpture.

 

In that glide she lures the soul

to see of places where spring begins,

and bring a new awakening of what sleeps inside

where the heart breathes its wind of hope

as a gust to carry one through any snow.

 

Amid the silence does she smiles

because her powers have worked their sway.

So when the air bites with its brisk teeth

it’s not the sign of January’s frigid touch,

instead it is her fingers giving a nudge

unto the spirit so it will build

those snowmen of creativity,

until the mind can truly see

what in life was one’s intended summer,

of the desires left slumbering

like a tree’s limbs in December.

Stuffed, Stuffed Pizza

Have we got a super special after holiday deal for you

just perfect for once your Thanksgiving meal is through

happily take that bird carcass and all you leftovers too

make them into something amazing instead of turkey stew!

 

Thanks to the talents of our grand master Chef, Pierre Ptomaine

no longer will you fret days of post gobble fixins with disdain,

why with his prowess you’ll never have to eat anything the same

his special Cordon Bleu, gourmet salmonella has such great fame.

 

So just call us up and we will rush over our remake yuck crew

they’ll fix you’re a masterpiece that will be creative and new,

with a promise for a refund should eating it turn you a shade of blue

and we promise it will be made in a way you can always chew.

 

Now let us have a chance to take any neck, thigh or drumstick

then transform it into a super large pizza so very extra thick,

with the added bonus of free antacid should by chance you get sick,

plus well through in a speed dial cell phone shaped like a bread stick.

 

Come on and give us a call at any time of any given day

we’ll make sure we fix you a stuffed, stuffed pizza right way,

won’t even charge you for upchucking if it comes out gray

because we sometimes mess up and add some old modeling clay.

We Call It Home

My parents had a house next to a graveyard,

I grew up always hearing strange sounds

ever having my share of spooky feelings,

back in 1982 my mother died

then in 2005 my step dad passed away,

so we inherited the place, tore it down

to built a new home of our own.

During construction sometimes

you could see a transparent face in one of the bedroom windows,

there has always been a very cold spot in the kitchen,

an old man’s voice with an native Indian accent brings laughter

from a bedroom that is not occupied.

 

At times you can smell my step dad’s cigar smoke in the air

even though none of us smoke,

lights sometimes come on by themselves,

footsteps are heard on the wood floors in the middle of the night,

dishes left on the counter are moved when never touched,

and you always feel your being watched.

 

Some nights there is a ghostly figure of man standing

on the cemetery side of our fence,

occasionally after a funeral we hear voices from the graveyard,

they are sobs, giggles even one plea of “help me.”

 

Once and a while something like keys or glasses will disappear

only to show up somewhere you never would have placed them,

television has been known to come on by itself at night,

it all is happens with those blurs out of the corner of the eye.

 

We’ve learn to cope with what can’t be explained,

what shivers and shakes us with invisible fingers

has a power to shake our serenity,

yet we still embrace it as our abode,

despite the moving furniture and eerie touches to our peace.

Whoa!

Edna was our office manager

such a true queen of anal retentive power,

utterly obsessed with order,

fretted over every office supply

constantly checked things like staplers

to see if they were empty,

examined drawers for paper lips,

hell would surely burn the employee

who mixed the large and small ones.

 

Ink pens had to be put in pen holder

with their points facing up,

if she had her way there would have been

a line on each desk

to mark where calculator, coffee cup

and computers out to be.

 

We just planned a special celebration

for a milestone achievement of our company,

bought a nice cake and decorations,

were going to invite clients for the big event,

mentioned it to Edna thinking she would join,

but her eyes flared and she screamed,

“Oh my god, crumbs,” then ran out the door

yelling, we’re doom, doom.

 

Assumed she would be of hiding somewhere

while our party took place,

had the cake delivered,

along with plates, forks and cups,

then went out to greet the customers.

Suddenly one of the supervisors whisper

how Edith had come back,

happened to notice her blur before the plates and cake vanished,

then whispered to another supervisor,

" She's Hidden The Plates... Help Me Find Them.”

 

Could hardly let our patrons think we were that disorganize,

so one of the boss’s made some impromptu speech,

as we desperately searched for Edna.

 

Finally found her in the supply closet,

discovered to our surprise

she was a secret cake junkie.

Half eaten dessert smeared on her face

with her passed out from the sugar rush,

paper plates stacked mysteriously in a odd cake shape,

no doubt it made sense to her,

quickly we rushed to empty vending machines of snacks,

then did our best to arrange them as festive décor,

our guest enjoying the treat just the same,

door to supply closet kept close

in hopes they would not hear her snoring.

Condemned

 

Gallows hang above the bed,

criminal’s decaying torso

swings from the noose,

below the abdomen already rotted away,

pieces of the remaining putrid flesh

fall upon the sheets,

where the execution sleeps

and holds the pardon for the accused,

but it was never delivered

for this murderous worthless

deserved to be killed.

Oh how he screamed when the rope tightening,

yet it was more from relief

that his crime was finally punished

as the strands strangled

just as the last breath came

there was an odd smile of joy on the face.

 

Before the torturous act that ended his life

the prisoner dwell in a cell filled with cockroaches

floor covered in filth and human waste,

his meals consisted of bread soaked in mucus

each bite made him vomit,

still he ate ever morsel,

that pain in his gut and fire in his chest

only fueled in hungry for more pain.

 

At night the scorpions crawled over his naked flesh

their stings nearly drove him insane,

it was so excruciatingly terrible,

though all he deserved.

 

In a moment his mind slips out of that captive’s head

back to that mattress and reality

away from  that hellish nightmare of gore

relived every night

because his father was never believed in other than guilt

and when you only know beatings

over imaginary crimes

you never can find the amnesty

of forgiving yourself.

Below Discount

 

Precious gems strewn everywhere,

there is a bargain anytime

the sun rises

over this amazing cellar,

scenic sales abound

when staring at the Grand Canyon,

nature’s perfect basement

priceless to the eyes.

Next

Please, please her words pleaded

from tearful trembling lips,

as I watched her standing at the counter

of the hospital billing office,

her desperation so apparent in her voice,

mutters of pain over the care,

infection caused by incompetence

when her son was given wrong medication.

 

But the clerk didn’t care,

he merely poured over his papers

utterly indifferent to the injustice,

hardly listening to her words,

never even acknowledged the wrong,

just stamped her form with a date stamp,

then said, “next.”

 

She turned, a working class woman with no insurance,

who had brought her son for an emergency.

Hands held the photo of her child,

now in a comma from being given a wrong injection,

which was denied by the staff

that blamed her for not telling them

he was allergic to a certain antibiotic.

 

Oh her voice tried to insist

it had been told to the receiving nurse,

yet she had no proof,

not a single evidence to validate her claim.

 

Was another tragedy of life

quickly lost in the shuffle of patients,

so sadly too easily forgotten.

 

How many of those stories

remain vapors absorbed by white walls,

where you might be treated with some concern

even if the last one helped

still lingers in a comatose state

from a hasty, apathetic case of OOPS

only prayer that perhaps

somehow they will have a miracle in their heart

and not duplicate the amnesia,

which will spare you being treated the same.