The stream (all workshops)
and they all ask me
how was the vacation
start by listening and end
by walking away disinterested
envy never hears much but
i survey the old room
take in the peeled paint
the new lights and old faces
brightness makes them ashen
dulled of life
full of vicissitudes
i finally am not like them
i am grateful i know this for
the last man who spoke to me
said
you are not like anyone i've met
lonesome tough
low
gritty growls
laconic as a bad ass movie star
arrogant
slinky
women stare
all over him
he's got it down
cold
a one man rat pack
on the make
'til the call of the road
takes over his soul
something he often regrets
but the lonesome tough
don't do duets
A sparrow lands
upon a sycamore branch
with fluttering of wings
The tree moves
with the slightest
unseen effort
sparrow jets away
returning landing
on another branch
The leaves follow
the progression of light
with ease
The universe has choreographed
The two contrasting movements
Into a dance
am I the attentive audience?
Five miles down a switch back gravel road
running along a Blue Ridge mountain back
hemlocks,laurels and white oak trees
provide shade for Oconee bells and ferns
Down below, a muted murmur
of a small river not too far
as crickets tell the temperature
and ruffed grouse dully drum
Dim path descends as in a cave
of gray stalactites and emerald ceiling
with soft mossy carpet
a silent passage
That night in your old car,
the bench seat ideal
for our closeness,
the summer warm,
humid enough to beat
the air conditioner
into a whine
of futility and sweat
I asked you
what you wanted to do
in life.
I didn't understand
your hesitation,
that painful look of
desperation,
the thick defeat
that came between us
when I asked.
"Lone Mortality"
arrogant dark Rooks cawing
from their shadowy haven
come to me unbidden
black-cloaked in shiny silken death
I pick up the trail of blood
carried fresh on the
intermittent nocturnal breeze
for one brief moment I am
powerless beneath fevered shadows
I am prone and pinned
To secret prophecies..
.
intolerable and unforgiving!
you came undone
when you done me wrong
your tongue hard with words
that shaped your face
with lack of grace
twisted, snarling angry dog
never to lie down near the Master,
head to heel and heel to heart
crushing wild
the red rose its thorns
growing on your head
into circles of home-bound grass
alone is
often the part
women deal with sufficiently
the knowing of silence
its lack of voice
i find myself hollowed out
a tree being tapped from
the inside
echo's string themselves
across empty horizons
some days i hear beauty
in the grasp of solitude
release my fists and
roll them out to
open palms
i have no idea
what i expect to land there
perhaps the screams
of a once loved heart
searching for a new home
My Time Isn’t Up, Friends
As I stand at the end of the cliff,
A breeze slaps my face
It says,
What in hell are you thinking?
Your time is up,
Jump off the cliff
Your life’s end, tis!
Then a hurricane came
It asked of me
Should you need a greater force?
Just ask me,
It also passed away
The opera's not my cup of tea
look all you want, you won't see me
through those fancy viewing glasses
among the high class lads and lasses
And a fancy debutante's ball?
I guess you know the answer ya'll
ties always seem to choke my neck
and cumberbunds, well what the heck!
A big ol' black stretch limousine
another place I'll not be seen
I like my little pick up truck
even when it gets me stuck
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