Cockney Dreams of a Virgo

Posted by

Something like 62 or 63 summers now, the same for Septembers, have yielded a few thoughts. Verses without birthdays, here snooping around since the beginning, looking for a heart and perhaps they’re found? Who knows?

lightning

apologies?

why at least can god not say he’s sorry?

people think they know authenticity

laughing tears of rain at the cemetery

we see how deep He dug, we cry

there might have been a tingle? is that electricity?

strikes us down, and lights forever’s sky

steals our words we give our proxy blindly

hoping He can forgive, me mostly?

But for what? It’s unclear if there is anything else He would have had me do? I tried the things my heart told me, but there are other hearts and He knew that from the beginning. There we go with the beginning all over again.

creature delights

creature delights

slept with Chopin chewing chocolates in my cheeks

folded money meant for me and sizzling marbled meats

stealing stolen confidence from worthless smiling schmucks

admiring a screaming Munch unblinded eyes behold the cucks

brutal brushstrokes breaking through the brittle varnish

flooding over top of life we drown in coffins stuffed with carnage

balance finds primeval competition drinking blood disguised as water

swimming with the current in a trance designed by grayish mater

our breathing’s borrowed chemistry on loan from the EPA

how much makeup will it take to smile this stench away

replaced by musical fantasies, nocturnes He did play

awakening us at the dawn to sunrise in the east?

Oh! is there another delight to crave could be so sweet?

Reminds me of the apple orchard on the hill in the meadow, somehow immune to the frost, which might have had something to do with our discovery that summer not so long ago?

img_9461

Véra

I can see our hill from here
What people said to scare us off
Putting a word in, like this my dear?
Life can be so Nabokov

Laughed her name, Véra had me from the very first
Smelled like cherries, it would be our only summer
To meet secretly in the meadow of our great thirst
Only to make fun with me l doubt she will remember

Smiling thru octagons of horned rim glass
The sixties seemed consumed by sweater knits
Conspiring bulges did the boys embarrass
Years and years ago, I’m still helpless with her tits

Imagining our hill can see us from here
Daydreaming up top that she had tagged along
Instead our fantasy split in two futures cleaved by fear
Haunted by worries we had chosen wrong

Sight’s gifts are taken for granted no longer
So many surprises linger still the memories strong
And sticky as a honey drizzle sweet and slow to smother
Lights her schmata one more time, is that a thong?

Exit into the river before the fire explodes seemingly without a thought, not any I can remember now as it’s all blurred by misbegotten desires and unbidden temptation, but mostly it’s the tears that have left the stains, the colors running all melted into one and there’s nothing we can do?

IMG_2527
Fire and Light

Red Red

Between the blues beneath the honey locust

Eager for the new half moon to pour, picture us

Orange leaf turns out maybe not, warms his wings in ours

Lets us finish our beer enjoy its warmish sours

Dragonflies of love flood monsoons secret cargo

Flashing in the rain the finches tease our eyes with gold

Fecund is a word that clings according to our want

The mind has its own already thank you, August you’re redundant

Take a hint and take a hike, you did learn how to swim?

God indulges fates’ erratic, strokes her favorite cherubim

Thunder at dusk announces their desire, we are staying

Tonight’s special a honey Meade, never forget who is paying.

How could we? Though we always do, it’s the way of the mind remembering what is easy, forgetting what is hard, and this goes equally for sorrow as it does for calculus? Because most of us are found wanting, it’s a bug in our design.

trumpcreature

clowns

birth

exploding life

nature’s cruel

disbelieving what we see

blinded by her cry

squeeze love

hug her tight

again

birth

 

honor

cultures clash

remember peace

you were young

blood spills

not yours

just guilt

so cold

honor

 

seppuku

days collapse

choirs hint of restoration

of what, to whom?

hear your friends?

be kind

let them go

time is done

seppuku

 

gunpowder

did the Chinese

history of war

no one reads

soft targets

explosions

hold the salt, peter

gunpowder

 

crazy

president

quiet fears

take us where?

great is lost

found a microphone

buzzing in our ears

we the people

crazy

Hardly a discovery, so say the Swedes on that committee, something about a speech and a wad of cash to recognize accomplishment in the past century, which would be funny if we were alive to laugh? How can we forget this inflection point in our collective consciousness deciding now who is legal? It blows the mind, the heart it left long ago.

grim

Alttitude

from the top you can savor the filth as far as the eye can see

at the bottom forced to taste it and breathe it, blinded though you be

in the precarious middle, balanced on the slippery slope

snapping teeth below, blood drained from hate confused with hope

days gone by with endless promise stolen quiet

silence such as this is hard to bear, your heart demands to riot

who can speak for you against the dread hitching on your back

who can see through lies and promises disguising their attack

born into the bondage of Mammon’s filthy straitjacket

indispensable their monopoly strangles with its racket

are we sliding down the hill or crawling grimly higher, just a little?

judgement paralyzed parlous we pray for our acquittal.

And then the mirror gives you a start, others have been too kind, and your pastiness is manifest in the furnace of your soul divining if you will make it one more time around the sun or be found quietly dreaming by yourself?

oldbarn

Death

parts of me are old and falling apart

others I never knew are newly revealed

you read Death of a Hired Man as a child,

then one day in the mirror Silas his self gives you a start.

that old man in the hay asleep in the barn

she opens the door just a crack with her man in the back

holding the dogs, his shotgun at slack

‘Silas you can’t stay here no more’ is her warn

‘You must go it was a long time ago, is your mind lost?’

he leans on his legs to see if they stand his feathery weight

enough it would seem to escort him out to the night

he pushes the gate and replaces the latch with a catch

trudging into the hill that held back the wind

now its chill free to invade his bones with a pall

until he came to the top, and the upend of his haul

pushed him down, down, down with a snort so unkind

he lay there in a bundle of death’s premonition

told him to carry his self and what he could worry

back down the hill to the gate and the catch of his sorry

where his coat managed to snag, his will, even his mission

she found him in mourning a picture of frozen hell

there was no fire, no wind in the dawn, just a shadow

of love long forgot, Silas is home and his death ours is now

buried outback with a stone to remind us, remember him well.

All the contradictions teasing without cease, you find a crack in one to squeeze in a prayer for whom you do not know, yet you’re certain someone somewhere hears?

paradox

Prayerdox

Thank you god for one more day

I complain and still you let me stay?

Admit it, you’re an easy target

Not just because you are the largest

Creating peoples all who claim they are your chosen

Kinda makes entitled seem like kindergarten

So it’s on you no matter what the preachers say

With no layaway, they’re on the hook today

So we keep coming back and dozing through the middle part

Seems loyalty over anything will keep us in your heart

We kneel and maybe genuflect according to the abbe

Inside we smile and thank ourselves each time we pray

Admit it, talk yourself into it if you must,

You alone are his chosen one, the only one He can trust?

Of course your heart will always be there for you, remember that. It’s ok to have another helping!

 dessertcake

Crush

Crush me, I’m easy
Flat as an old 33
And a third of my mind
With the stylus just so inclined
To fall, plays my heart
In love with paradise’ dessert cart
Irresistible sweets for my eyes, and yours
Together we’re served as candies and schmoors
Stirred up sugars and caramels sticky
Undressed and sprinkled, even the picky
Surrender, delighted to flirt
Giving up to the skirt
Send the kids out to play
Taste your favorite today
Feast my eyes again
Heavy, your lips touch my skin.

 

~End~

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s