Everglad

Sun stained set on old mahogany
wispy dance of Spanish moss,
diamond point of faceted bay
convergence of Atlantic and Gulf
as hand holding hearts.

Splish splunk of pelicans fishing
face plant on rippled sparks,
prairie whimpers of reverent crows
childlike and quiet coo replacing caw.

Stealthy sidle of black vulcans
circle swoop to picnic table land,
hopping like chickens looking for remnants
nosy pecking at charcoal and grill.

Sunrise starburst, cirrus breezes,
milky illumination surrounds Venus's glow.
All is well in the Florida Everglades...
Everglad, everglow, evermore.

Night Train Terror

In a darkened room where a huddled mass of ignorant eyes
lay fearful, yet trusting among compassionate caretakers,
muffled words babbled of solace..."we're in this together."

A hissing screech from a hazardous face
closed the room in tightened grip...
there was moaning, lament, grief
as the last freedom was carted away
in a crowded freight car, emblazoned
with worn out logos mirroring billboards.

The tossing tempest of a night tale was stifled
by rising words softly spoken, "you are safe."
From the green glow of creation
the seas calmed... warmed by the weight
of a wooly, woven blanket.

One Day...

I ask myself on a day like today,
what would a sage like JL say.
Only one word comes to mind-
IMAGINE... one day at a time.

Trainward with the Sun

   It was a dark quiet ride through sleepy valleys and misted hills.   The waning crescent moon shone through the outlined orb of its containment as faint stars salted the midnight blue morning. The station was brightly lit with a garden of overgrown floor plants, where occasional sad blooms mirrored the faces of an array of seasoned commuters, mostly working class.
     The train pulled into the station and we mounted the rust laden steps with the jaunty step of tourists and chose our seats in the 'quiet' car, such labeled as a reminder to turn off cell phones and whisper only out of necessity. With a low blast of melancholy horn, as if weary from monotonous use, we settled ourselves as the train, replete with coffee clutching and parceled passengers, did the same. They looked vaguely familiar.
     Dawn teased slowly with rosy wisps upon the veiling of grey clouds that followed our journey by way of an eastward facing window. Rolling hills cloaked in chill dawn gave up its frozen fields in fits of frost. Ragged leaves of indecisive colors of Autumn solemnly awaited the rise of sun to drape their garments with bursts of bold-hearted color. At one sweep of valley a small herd of deer was spotted, some leaping while others grazed under a frosty field of matted grass, the early likeness of a winter lake.
     Around a curved bend we headed in a more easterly direction where a hewn lumber pile offered up white tufts of smoking heat against the chill. Modest farms with prim and just saltbox homes and cheery red barns mingled with the more rustic and weather beaten dwellings of families and beasts. Wooly black bulls, blanketed horses, and a scattering of goats grazed unconcerned as we rode by.
     Suddenly an attentive horn blared and soon the flashing of worn grey metal flashed by the window with a speed that seemed twice that of our own. Glimpses of the whitening sky and meadowed landscape were seen as glinted images through the closeness of the metallic screen of a passing train.
     As the stops were announced by an unseen spokesman, more familiar passengers ambled down the quiet corridor of the train.
Faces in mundane repetition of the morning commute focused on the task of finding a suitable seat partner. The seated politely made way or offered their own window seat for the newcomers. It dawned on me at a moments notice of hat, hairstyle, backpack, briefcase, or pocketbook, why the expressionless faces looked familiar... it wasn't really the uninspired faces at all. Rather, it was the stereotyped nuances of baggage and apparel that adorned the commuters that revealed the familiarity of character judgements
that I had been collecting for a long time since.
     The sun burnt its arrival at the edge of a stern cloud and reached its fiery gaze directly into my own, shedding some much needed daylight on my worn and outmoded conclusions.

Presence

Spotted red leaf on blacktop

white dog on green patch of lawn

silhouette on white garage doors

shadow, mine.

Funny thing about the shadow

are you forward or backward?

Hard to tell at a quick glance

no pretense, no afterthought

just there

present

now

and now is good. 

For the record

I saw it as a sandstone dome
of yellowed stone.

August 29, 1957
October 13, 2010

No name attached,
only the days in between
were numbered.

It woke me as a concerted
disconcertion.

A door closing?

I do not believe in death per se...

decay?

Quite another matter.

Beelzebub

Jazz beat, rap sheet, workin' overtime.
All the flowers never plucked
whispered through the pine.

A cauldron of bubble
with tumblin' jacks,
ribald kittens in burlap sacks.

Sock eye salmon on plum fleshed puce
spinnin' on a fly reel
in stiletto pumped truce.

Silence is molten in a riverbed sigh
kiss ass can wrath
without knowin' why.

Scratchin' sound of chatter fleas
on bear clawed bread...
nevermind meaning of what's been said.

Laughin' at four corners
writhin' words for fun
singin'  in shadows with wicked silken tongue.

Upon a beach of mossy peat
I feel the cadence, hear the sweat...
O Beelzebub, my buzzled bee
you haven't scared me yet!

(now I won't share your secrets
or tell you any lies,
just let me melt slowly
in your fire breathing eyes).

Night Owl

It was the glare of the 3 AM streetlamp
casting its phosphorescent shade of
green doubt through the webbed
veil of the menacing hemlock.

Curling wisps of smoky waft
drifted upon a b-minor fretboard...
the watery chord was held captive
in an icy stare showdown

until

sweeping gestures of love-lit glance
graced the gaze to the triple pink glow
of the charmed faux gas lamp up the street;
softening, soothing, satisfying.

The new moon sleeps soundly
under the cloak of velvet darkness...

lullaby, bon soir.

Bittersweet Joy

She lay in my arms having her ba
in blue eyed contentment.

Gently rocking
I thought my heart would break
from the last day of this precious feeding...
when a dimpled hand reached up
and gently finger painted my face
with my own tears and then wiped them away
on her own little head.

She looked into my swollen eyes
and kicked a chubby foot to my lips
for a monkey toe nibble, pulled the ba
from her mouth and gave me a new tooth smile.

Together we shared our giggles
in a moment of joy meant to last forever.

Shriek

!

Ah! Whee! Yikes! Oh!

Yeah! Eek! Whew! Yo!

Hi! Ooo! Yay! Go!

Stop! Bye! Fuck! No!

Yes! Hey! Eww! Whoa...

What would you exclaim

as a flash in the pan?

Summer Symphony

The humid night hung heavy-
a damp velvet blanket of black
dotted with firefly sequins.

The cicadas have retired
their incessant shushing
which drowns out meeker insects
with volume braggadocio.

Long after dusk
the night time choristers
crescendo in stridulation
to a nocturnal overture.

Flutey chirping crickets
hum-clicking katydids,
raspy buzzing grasshoppers,
ticking tapping beetles...
all contribute their individual
song in harmonious melody.

In the dark, I wonder
if the collective chatter of human sounds
reach the ears of an unseen deity
and produce a sonorous sigh
of appreciation and amusement as well?

Revelation

Within stone weary walls of a crumbling castle
there is a staircase, circular but linear,
once thought to spiral upwards
towards the balistraria window.

Light filtered through dust mites
in the rise and fall of days, seasons, empires
and crept away with the waxy wane of predators.

Arrows shot out at the imaginary birds
and beasts, and quivered to the ground
to the sound of a sorrowful trumpet.

The staircase is grey and damp, yet
light meets darkness in the twilight dawn
and turns upon itself, as a mobius strip
meeting an infinite joust.

The crumbling stone holds the sands
of a makeshift hourglass
waging war upon itself.

In silence I surrender.

The Spy

Warmly wrapped in a cloud of comforter the body lay still
waiting for the slumber that would not come,
the mind ticking away the minutes to a restless hour.

Slowly, to alleviate the disturbance of the rising trance
I crept across the darkened room searching for the doorknob,
quietly opening and closing the squeaking door,
then wafting down creaky stairs to the porch rocker
where I can usually expel the thoughts that prevent sleep.

In the top of the maple as seen through the hemlock branches
the blinking began-
a steady rhythm, continuous, winking in uncanny standstill.
Minutes upon minutes of relentless blinking...
Was a firefly caught in a time space continuum?

Mesmerized, I rose from the rocker for a closer look
when I was struck by a cold hard familiar fear-
this is no summer firefly, it is an alien
spying, winking, pulling my attention to its eerie signal.

In a mute zombie stare-down, I mustered my courage
to self exclaim, "have no fear"... my angels as back up
were hovering, protecting, and encouraging.

"Have no fear lest it steal your light." The words
directed their aim in a telepathic chant at the blinking.
It grew dimmer and dimmer until in a final faint flicker
it disappeared.

Then I returned to bed and slept very well indeed.

Pulsar

Pointed fingers of a channeled light

Undoing time in the reaching.

Linear tracings are swallowed in...
Silent darkness, if only for a moment.
And between the breath of void and light
Returns the Now of human existance.

Ebbing Away

Tentacled limbs clutching
sweat swollen pillows,
a restless churning
of buttery goodbyes.

Hollow is the echo
in relic chambers;
vellum turned parchment
into cackling sighs.

A tawny drop falling,
spotty reminder
of what will be missed...
crimson salt tides (no more).

The mermaid sings softly
from milk foaming waters-
a hymn in her heart
from a far reaching shore.

I don't care

The phone never rings
and I don't care.

The mood swings confound me,
and I don't care.

My lunch crowd deserts me,
but I don't care.

Dark clouds surround me,
and I don't care,

Endless cycle of denial
to a cruel perceiving,
a lonely liar's words
become self deceiving.

Night Vision

A stroll across the dark neon studded street
where crimson and clover reverberates
from fuzzy DJ speakers over and over...
spilling vibrato on the church lawn.

Over zealous zombies gawk at vintage vehicles,
as I hear a warbled slur of accolades, worn jokes
and yearning for good old days.

Lightly stepping out across the white lined pavement
in a legalized jaywalk
without a sidelong glance at gawping headlights
I stroll... unconcerned.

Hair once glimmered in gold
casts tawny shadows streaked in silver.
Slender and lithe as a sickle moon,
the invisible sylph saunters
in graceful sashay from the waning revelry,
her black dirndl skirt swaying
with star studded sequins
twinkling in frozen time.

Down the dark ally I stroll
past the dusty waxen faces
that stare in glassy disdain
from the stoney throne of a steepled banner.

A flower upon a stained glass oculus
is not sacred when it hides so much misery...

... and still I am unconcerned,
as sandaled heels clip clop over cobblestones.

It was the briefest of moments
when I saw that shadow of a woman
whose life I had lived
in a million moments
between laughter and tears,
as the night fair spectacle folded
into the parking lot ahead.

A hazy spotlight cameos
my own chivalrous chariot.

Flash Back

I saw it from a downward hill,
a uniformed patrol car
lit up and blinking
in rotational blue-white-red...
like a buzzer at a restaurant
signaling the table is ready.

There were back thoughts:
lectures on bike safety,
penny or porcine quips,
hidden baggies of herb,
daisies in narrow barrel shafts,
stripping macho dancers,
big guns in holsters,
partners in CPR...

the mind roared in rapid fire succession
to the syncopated rhythm of the blinking flash.

As I pedaled by the car,
jaded green met worn flannel
and we both just said a weary hello...
greeting of the damned.