Crossroads

The heart is a light that shines upon discovery's ageless road,

as sagas of seeping shadows travailed to stain the soul

still the pulse throbs to tread towards reverie's distant destination

while visions flood over every horizon envisioned by one's fiery expectation.

 

Golden cities to claim by deed are conjured mind's imagination wand

besetting the steps of day with castle mirages where dreams come true,

scenery sprawls through one's hope, hills and valleys are strewn along the trail,

yet the soul finds flight upon the breath of faith,

stumbling, bruised of being, feet of spirit keeping their pace,

coming to crossroad of inner truth where traveler's identity within is revealed.

Heck Fire, I Is Home

Well dang it all this sure am perfect for me

with my second cousin common in law wife,

Bertha Sue Peggy Mae,

plus the three youngins,

one of which I’m pretty sure is mine.

 

Now you never mind about the rent

because we-uns get those unemployment right on time.

Course I even got some other bucks

from my still I’ll keep in the living room,

right next to the deer head from that hunting trip

and that engine from my pick up truck.

 

Gonna get it running some day

even get some tires too.

 

Granny will come by

once she’s on parole from prison

shouldn’t need to say more than a year or two.

But if you decides to let us stay

we will treat you to a nice possum dinner,

unless that skunk we found run over on the road

hasn’t turned to the point it can’t make a good stew.

 

Hope you got cable there

since we are gonna get a TV that ain’t busted someday,

just don’t tell the kids

on account of they still think them magazine pictures

that we hang on the broken set are the real thing.

 

Why you sure will be in fer one big surprise

for one of these days we are gonna be

big country western singers.

 

Mah geetuar sure done sounds great

even gonna learn to play it eventually,

but my yodeling is getter better

haven’t made the hound dog howl in days.

 

You all ready for us to move in?

Reckon well camp out in front

till you do.

 

Yeah, our couch will look great in the yard,

gopher makes such a cool covering you all.

Stereo Instructions

The paragon of idyllic dulcet resonance

awaited at the stereo store,

replete with a manual of miniscule details,

that allowed the listener

to savor the most incredible stereophonic quintessence,

a fantastic plethora of amazing reverberations

more intense and vivid

than any sounds the ear could detect.

 

It’s fame as an hearing wizard

able to summon fantastic audible expressions

drew flocks to purchase it

by scores in patrons,

all lusting for a chance

at hearing the impossible,

a butterfly’s fluttering wings,

the sounds of grass growing

even the tones of ice melting.

 

How quickly people brought them home

obsessed to hook up their new equipment,

barely flipping through the instructions,

most failing to notice the warning page

about setting the controls

so they filtered out certain frequencies

known to result in causing insanity.

 

In homes around the land

people sit with headphones on,

minds fried from those dark decimal detriments,

but with smiles on their face

from the smugness of being too smart

for truly perceiving the words in a manual.

 

 

Framework Sky

Tears realized in black memories

to free the child sobbing in the corner,

while crossing the desert alone,

but watching the sky for portraits

of the cloudy hopes that drifted away

upon a wind that took the tomorrows

written in youth’s innocence.

 

Wisps of virginity,

the phantom inside that still looks for magic,

empowers the feet to keep chasing

that crimson balloon of pure joy,

a toy of wishes that could fly

where the heart was free from sadness.

 

The sun burns its truths

on the aging footprints,

yet still the angel inside longs to live,

keep the air preserved as a portrait

of the way life should be experienced.

 

Trudging through those barren

landscapes of despair’s bitter scenes,

ever reaching for the teddy bear hugs

lost in the frail caress of trust.

 

Sometimes they seem like mirages

more than the past,

but the heart never stops searching

for that toy chest of happiness.

 

Dreary Dates Definitely Deranged

I surfed the keyboard to the internet 

for a damsel who was a true doll,

one not ditzy and didn’t make me feel like a dork,

who would be my darling without any doubt,

that we could do some dream dirty dancing

never suffering love’s deprivation

or left feeling I got Cupid’s dart

hit my head and leave me a dunce.

 

At last my cyber dance did the right steps

found that web site beauty who made me drool by her words

as I felt that drive deep down

how it as a draw in such passion,

my heart became joy’s drum.

 

Was a love’s dove I though I had found

with a promise of a new dawn for my life.

But this daisy turned out to be a demon,

once she explained about that last divorce

from the multi-personality psycho preacher,

this being her sixth marriage,

it left me to dribble with worry.

 

Then my hopes of wedded bliss grew so dim

under the drizzle of her dementia

for she talked about her telepathic dorsal fin

on her head that she only could see,

being drunk on a dare by an alien,

which went by the name, Dark Cosmic Dog.

 

She claimed he gave her a silver drink

able to make her a genius and everyone else dumb.

Proved enough to end my fantasy,

so I returned to the safety of  world

with a smidgen of sanity.

Tides

I wish you may know a mariner’s thrills

sail on passages of tides that swell in happiness,

immerse you in its depths and peace

while your sadness be only a reef

reached so very seldom,

that they will be a time merely visited

and never a voyage of countless days.

 

By love’s wind may you be driven

far from those shoals of sobs,

able to know the beauty and bliss

felt on a journey rich in blessings.

 

It is the dream I have for you

the wish that becomes your vessel

through time's many waters,

which can bring you to a home

upon the paradise shore

of the future my heart wants for you.

 

Now my son, while you sleep in a sailboat

upon those seas on in your mind,

hear this song of hope

sing its notes in your slumber,

for it is music of tomorrow,

a melody of oceanic thoughts

held in my words I give to you

as the vision for your life.

Tears Of The Wind

She dwelled in perennial night

of cold shadows in a forbidden forest,

a place where the black twisted oaks

were the cursed mutated creations

possessed by banished wizards and sorceresses,

They had practiced the dark arts,

tried to conquer the kingdom

under the rule of insane king,

he was the child of witch and dragon,

fierce and master of spells,

but had no tolerance for competition

so transformed any conjuring threats

into those hideous wooded forms.

 

Her heart had dreamed of freedom,

sadly being was trapped in that realm,

daughter of an enchantress mistress unto the monarch,

he rejected his offspring along with her mother.

 

They had lived in the hollow of a tree

while her parent sought a revenge

as a scorned lover.

 

Only the ruler sent his assassins

after his satyr seerer warned

the woman had been working on an incantation

to punish that monarch’s evil.

 

While the young girl was at this pool

that held the spirits of  midnight,

those masters of nightmares and ghosts,

she heard her mother screaming from the invaders,

too late discovering her death.

 

In her grief she cried out to the sky gods for help

the lords of eve phantoms heard her voice,

for a price she would have her vengeance.

 

Slowly she nodded with tears streaming down her face,

which were taken on the wind before her body was changed

into the moon’s glow, her soul now its fire,

suddenly rising to space where she watches in a new wispy essence.

 

From that gaze she stirred the thorns to turn into serpents

swiftly they slithered into the evil king’s castle,

quickly they killed him,

then light came to the suffering,

but forever the maiden must watch from her lunar spirit realm.

able to keep the wickedness in check

though eternally crying her charms to protect

over being eternally alone.

The Operating Table

He studied the chart with such careful scrutiny,

one of several doctors who had stopped by my bed,

his eyes only saw the paper as he spoke to the air

not even caring if I had any response,

examined the same facts and recommendations

to make sure he got paid for calling it a visitation.

 

Quickly producing an ink pen and pushing the end

so the point would appear and he could put his initials

on the chart to show he was there though he had done nothing.

 

A nurse came by to check my blood pressure

despite the fact someone else had checked it five minutes earlier,

she never asked how I was coping with waiting for the operation,

but did take time to also mark the patient’s chart.

 

Then the anesthesiologist came by to have me sign a consent form

babbled about the risks of death and possible brain damage,

didn’t looked me in the eye even once.

 

Overheard two nurses rambling about a surgery blunder

some scalpel left in a body that lead to a second operation,

just hope the meds given to sedate me has caused hallucinations,

before I watched an orderly drop a tray of surgical instruments,

quickly reached down to pick them up,

but kept pushing them around on the floor,

finally collecting them and tossing them on the tray.

 

Another orderly with coke bottle lens in his glasses

came towards me and kept bumping into walls,

said it was his job to take me to the operating room

so he started to push me in that direction

regularly bumping into the walls.

 

Last thing I remember seeing

was this sign over the room’s doors

it read, “Healers by love and compassion.”

I thought it was truly insane compare to the truth,

then faded off to black

while hoping I would wake

without something foreign inside my body.

Getting Buzzed

Oh baby you have to be Cupid’s perfect snack

because your beauty nearly gave me a heart attack.

So are you a magical bedroom kind of red hot bee

who will give me a taste from your sweet honey?

 

And if by chance an escort type of bunny

for I’ll be happy to rent your tail for money.

If not then care to buzz over to my place

since I'll treat you as a goddess of elegant grace,

making sure you leave with a smile on your face

Thawing

Icy composure,

a cold, frigid shield,

facade of impenetrable,

melts from the inside first,

eyes and lips still tossing snowballs

to keep up the pretense.

 

Building snowmen to make it all

some illusion of a play land,

learned as child,

the mask for freezing weaknesses,

heat of passions and love

only forming icicles

for fear allowing it to touch glacier within

might bring melting

and risk lost of chilling control

over where I hide.

 

But a word to many of burning query,

some flaming asteroid from another's mouth,

is more than I can bear,

leaves a crater in my heart,

thawing, temporarily,

what I preserve in sub-zero will.

 

Body shivers from the cataclysm,

droplets of winter's end

flow from tear ducts,

for a while, spring comes,

flowers bloom,

over the plot

that was buried under drifts.

 

Casinos

Lives tossed like expendable poker chips

at the world’s casino of political posturing

by electoral hands who unethically bet whatever beats

as their power gamble in control.

They think it unnecessary to have any justification

for the squandering in human antes,

even though they know the pot can be unexpectedly absconded

by someone that is utterly immoral

and regularly regards this regimen as a game.

 

It’s a wager with hearts that is unaccountably played,

ultimately achieving the pleasure of the better

at the sacrifice of those seen has uselessly redeemable

so they can be wasted unnecessarily.

 

With rehearsed tangential tones of sermonized rhetoric

their words rationalize why others are not allowed to partake

of this risk to those treated only as barters,

unto them comes the pain of being abused

just to be a bluff’s whim

by the one’s who don’t care

how unbearably their losses are

to those that are nothing more

than unimpressively valuable.

 

How unabashedly they shuffle the deck of chance

even though it doesn’t matter who wins the hand

since they never suffer the loss themselves.

 

Each time they visit the table of the legislative allure

what usually parlays is the nuances

in their urgently conceived strategy,

which ends after some one goes broke

though they will return tomorrow,

easily depending on the opportunity to use

another mortal as their folly’s fodder

since they view everyone else as their source for gaming.

 

Dear Emmy

Well wanted to say things in my part of the world are pretty much the same as always.  Not much exciting going on.  My neighbor, the one that created that time machine, which he dropped into a calendar and couldn’t find it again, says he has a cure for baldness.  He says all he needs is some onion juice, an electric light socket that is one where you can put your finger, a portable toilet that sings show tunes and some garlic flavored chewing gum to make it work.  I will have to wait until he gets back from his trip to the roller coaster museum he goes to for more details.  It is located somewhere over this rainbow that he says appears at midnight above this sewer treatment plant.  Anyway, can’t wait to help him market it.  Says he is going to sell it as shampoo in a container shaped like a pinecone.  I’ll let you know how we make out.

 

Meanwhile, I’m still working on my own invention.  I’m trying to come up with an edible swing set for kids.  I tried to use crackers with super glue and sardines, but didn’t work.  Then I tried vanilla ice cream and added concrete.  Still not happy with that option, but think if I pour fudge sauce on it that will make the difference.  If that doesn’t work out I might give a try at using bananas dipped in mud and then add some jelly beans.  Would sure look great.  You know I told my boss about this idea and for some reason he didn’t want to see the pictures.  Just like the time I wanted to show him those pictures of the puppets I made out of used toilet paper.  Can’t please everyone.

 

Oh and I have a nice surprise for you.  This guy has been coming by as a door-to-door salesman with some really great bargains.  Actually he is from Mars and part of this invasion force, only when they got here and hear about unions and pay days, they went on strike, so he has to moonlight selling to get by.  I mean I really enjoy those donut laser beam emitters he sells that are suppose to zap all the extra calories in food.  At least he says it works that way.  And I can’t wait until he comes back tomorrow.  He says he’s going to bring me a new machine that can eat clouds and make dandruff on fruit.  Now that ought to be great at parties I bet.

 

The wonderful thing is he’s decided to extend his route to Australia, so he might drop by, won’t that be great?   Plus he has said once they conquer the world, everyone will get free internet and basic cable.  Course he mentioned something about you have to dress like a pink squid and use a tuna for the monitor, but hey it will be free.

 

It is time for me to get back to work.  I’m the head of our neighborhood vigilante committee to guard our block against rogue cooties.  Hope all is well in your world.

 

Yours Truly

 

Grandpa

Abstract Virus

Merry go round logic,

tickets sold by penguin pragmatics

serving their sangria benevolence

upon a wobbly utopian buffet cart.

 

Prisms carved by didactic, myopic optometrists

held against the conscience with pontificating super glue.

 

Kaleidoscope prophets cast

their counterfeit sagacity into the chasms

where puppets dangle by vanity's thread.

 

Communal calliopes

serenade with clarion calls

to come and see the Edens

etched in visionary doodles.

 

Bittersweet candy is passed

among the passion diabetics,

it sours the soul,

causing temporary blindness

as they wounded crawl

into their crypts

before dream rigor mortis

sets in for another eve

where they listening to a PA system

blare an off key commercial jingle,

entitled,

"sorry for the inconvenience."

Are You Sure About This?

Okay I know you quote the bible

and say you are a true believer,

but really is pretending to be Adam and Eve

on our first date

really the way to impress?

 

I mean we met at the over 50’s single’s club

so have to admit I was a tad anxious

to find someone sane

after my husband ran off with his secretary

then joined the cult

who worshipped some bush

named the Great Canard.

 

Doing my best to believe

somewhere in all this

you’ll prove this isn’t nuts,

will give you points for using that special voice

for saying God talked to you

when you explained this to the cop.

 

Hmmm, not sure I like his idea

of forbidden fruit

because he ain’t that kind of bite

with me being his tree!

My Acts Without An Ax That Allowed For Thoughts Aloud

I strolled to visit my favorite Aunt who had an ant farm

and met a boy who was carrying a buoy to put in the sea,

he told me about this water pistol duel he had with dual matching guns.

 

Then he moseyed off to practice at a gym with a fitness training gem,

afterwards I stopped to read this sign about a sale on a clarinet reed,

it was offered by an immigrant Wend who played songs about the wind.

 

Before I could visit him I had to untie the knot in my shoes that was not so easy,

since my instincts shouted no way I might, based on what I know about shoe strings,

besides I had this pain in my heel that was taking way too long to heal,

which did grate on my nerves so it never felt great.

 

Instead went shopping for a new fishing reel that would be truly real,

so I could fish for a sole that would add tranquility to my soul

it was a deed I did as a lone angler with help of a small loan,

ever dreaming of joining that fishing team who had bait that of life so teem,

the idea nearly burst my shirt's seam from swells in pride or to others it did seem,

for me just having a piece in that group was sure to give me peace.

 

The Chicken Little Fan Club

They sit in a shadowy and murmur their chicken little apocalyptic whispers,

every incident it is a harbinger of impending holocaust.

But their eyes are stuck in the ashen layers of lament

only able to view winters in the midst of summer,

declare every landscape as tomorrow’s graveyard.

 

While they faint and fuss in their constant chaos,

I’m not going to submit to that insanity

because soil has no fear or worries it still responds to love and care.

my fingers shall still sow the seeds of hope,

for as long as there is a sun tomorrow it can still bring a harvest.

The Wail Of Wind

The wail of wind whistles through the mind

it bewitches in its blowing breath

until all you think is being a sail

who soars forever upon a current

far from the perils of thorns,

deeply driven to cling to clouds

be a feather who rises beyond storms,

gently floating in serenity

apart the problems that bruise.

 

Only wind is a wisp in reality

never lasting for a lifetime,

eventually we all must land again

learn the pain of fleeting flights.

 

Tomorrow we’ll wait for the next breeze

in hopes it will somehow never stop,

though time finally erodes that notion.

At last seeing those gusts as a mere momentary rises

above the place we have to live.

 

When the feet hold onto that understanding

those soft airy caresses

remain a pastime you savor

instead of a drug that will never wear off.

 

Love Conquers All If You Have A Spoon

Cute might overpower a heart,

but you can’t eat a smile,

precious may charm and seduce,

yet who can consume on a grin?

 

What the world needs

is to be slapped up side the head

not with some wimpy lip lashing,

instead a good smack with silverware.

 

Because pabulum you give to the ignorant

so they can be distracted

while you steal the pie

since nobody gets feed enough

by eating some crap

no one else really wants.

 

Time to treat this planet

as a soup kitchen

and I’m going to suck it dry

let the goo-goo brain dead types

play their babysitting games.

 

Cuddly might work for handouts

just not for a real appetite,

save the hugs and baby words,

I’m going to devour everything

make it a dessert,

since nothing says loving

like scooping up everyone and everything.

 

Absence

My heart feels your love

exploring with passion's hands

while your soft fingers

can't reach in a fiery touch,

they flame my soul forever.

 

I shall see your face

my heart always holding on

alive when we meet

emptiness leaving my day

ever knowing lasting joy

So Good For You

Glassy eyes stare off into space,

slurred words spill from mouth,

feet staggered while lips ramble incoherently.

 

Office in chaos

nobody can stop laughing

over the dumbest things,

customers think the place inside

when they call on phone.

 

Boss going crazy

since is paying attention

to his shouts to calm down.

 

Meanwhile the bookkeeper

sits in his office

giggle to himself,

for he slipped that vodka

into the water cooler.

 

His revenge for being accused

of having no personality

now he’s enjoying

the show inspired

by his alcohol practical joke.

Lesson’s Learned

Life can be a very demanding teacher

when we don’t always do the homework,

think we can strut by our own wisdom

while searching for some trophy.

 

How tumbled are the steps taken

if running by our own timer,

though we feel a tinge of apprehension

from knowing we tried a style

truly troubled and tantamount to bruises,

because the warning signs sent a telegraph

so visible to our senses

that we ignore as inklings to discard.

 

Even though they come in tender hints

our inner telephone of impulse

has dialed the number for the will,

far too happy to listen to that mentor

no matter how many times it proves wrong

 

 

Clearings

This blizzard beguiling

before the mind on a winter’s trek

beyond the harvest steps of the heart’s fall,

struggles to brace against those icy winds

that bear the frozen blasts to the spirit

as they sink the mind into drift of doubt’s frigid face.

 

Amid the cold silence in the season

of hibernation dreams,

how it clings to the thoughts as icicles,

they chill the eyes till all one can see

is a landscape harsh and cruel,

a wilderness that even covers one’s sleep

until all you can do is shiver in the night,

remember the sun and hold onto its warmth

though the day swirling in desolate January despair.

 

In all that trudging where life’s path leads,

there is the guide within that leads ahead,

it is the pioneer residing within

who refuses to surrender to any snowy scenes,

not let that sight deter the willingness

to journey through that glacier terrain

ever holding onto the memory

of the refuges that lay

at the end of the ordeal.

 

And at the moment when it seems

all that lies ahead

is the barren landscape of longing,

some word of encouragement

said by loving lips,

reveals the clearing of hope,

then for one precious second

what numbed from the long labor in passage

becomes reenergized by finally seeing

ahead there really is a place to reach

far from all the time spent alone

on that pilgrimage to discover

the destination of one’s destiny.