from the _Black Palette_ series, work in progress

Life

life can be like
slamming your face down
on a bed of nails!

Old Man's Dog

O let the long night winds blow
I hear Old Man's dog howl down the road
then limps on
to yet another restless soul

past shadow-flits among tall trees
breezes whistle-play rust-rotted eaves
of this old house that's not my home

silent figure slices through night's dark
uncertain of the Old Dog's bark
watching - waiting - agitating
then disappears from view

my house limps like Old Man's Dog
inertia moving down the halls -
passing fears on floating ghosts
all remains are rotting bones 
	
my soul picked clean from womb to tomb
no chance for change,  no primal scream 
no man's best friend for me - alas
no St. Bernard to cross my path -
no freedom - no exit - no next dream
	
and tonight death is my soul's repast.

return to sender
address unknown
may 1968

Hello, my darlingest -
		
love missile received
aimed straight for my heart -
and I want you to know
I lie here in bed
most nights -
sculpting your face into view,
a habit I've learned  to replace you,
your letters stopped coming  
too soon.
		
Watching the news is unbearable,
when all I think of is losing 
you.
Your tenderness fades during news briefs 
like poking my eye in your sleep,
but baby -
your poking elbow I miss,
and all your bad habits as well.
		
Hey
those azaleas bloomed!
hot pink splashed on fuchsia -
your favorite colors on me 
said so yourself!
lickin' lipstickedy luscious you purred.

Caught in a stare -
colors freeze an image -
another memory of us
out on the veranda smokin' chicken
a la "I'll take the potata in the back, Jack,
don't like 'em burrrrrnd, b-a-b-y!"
		
and babe,
		
I feel burned
and crisp,
and raw,
without the blanket of your love
wrapped around me tight 
like roses clenched in my fist,
while our wedding guests danced round and round and
round us,
drunk on love and laughter!

and, baby,

that's what I miss the most.
If I could "can" that stuff 
I'd send a case or two
"for emergency only" -
		
..and...baby...
		
I wish I were there to recharge your fortitude.

return to sender
address unknown
june 1968

Hello, my love -
		
looking at your photo
on your belly, rifle drawn
in jungle fatigues
is terrifying, hon..
		
Far cry from your get-up
in Mid-Summer Night's Dream -
hi-lar-i-ous!
Thought I'd scrrreeeam when you lunged at me -
your tights drawn and sword up!
		
Twelfth Night was even better -
prancing around
in those damn leotards!
Amazing fence-faking back-breaking gyrations -
awkward at first like love-making,
and like love-making -
quickly finessed.
		
You Errol Flynned me
with your fencing skills -
epee poised and ready to prick
some dastardly bastard! but nooooo!
had to lunge! twist! thrust! and plunge!
skewering my couch pillow as I grimaced -
not for my heirloom -
it was fresh-kill face made me shudder.
		
Your face has that same look
as I study your eyes in this photo -
no sign of twisted tights or eat-shit grin,
no hint of prance or ballroom dance, dear,
this is a last-time face, darling..
		
not the love-soaked Nureyev eyes
		I knew before your first kill.

This  Night's Uplifting

Night falls,
skin crawls -
face the shadow
on the wall,
wonder why you care at all -
when bed to chair and chair to bed
is all the life left in you.
			
Hope fails,
life crawls -
the end is hard to shake -
when bed to chair and chair to bed
is all the life left in you.
			
This life takes leaving,
time unveils one more
unread book left on Life's shelf -
no last dream and no last drink-

no last glimpse of mirror image,

just one last breath,

unhurried -

unheard - 

	pluck memory flowers from the air.. 

  welcome death.

Naked eye

	Feeling without
		within,

	feeling alone
		together,
			
	lost in wondering
		found asunder,

	learning to look inward
		for outward signs,
	
				a pupil,
				too close
				for comfort,
				silent screaming,                              
				joyless,		
					empty,
						aching,
	
							forever touchless.

Was it the eyes behind my head?

I see

through you -

knowing this,

still love you -    

came to know you

no, You,

the Real you  -

loathing this -

steel

(myself)

still

 (myself)

steal 

(of self)

love you.

 

I am -

everything you want,

yet don't need

I am -

everything you need,

yet don't want,

 me.

 

Am I -

just your body's wont -

your desperate need -

your panacea -

your mother ?!?

Ahhhh,  

so that's how

you see me.......

 

Death as life's lover

 

It's hard to live

between life

            and death: 

We

exercise the body,

exercise the mind,.. 

exercise your right 

to smoke pink lungs to black..

or

smack my daughter up side the head

with your new! shiny! frickin' red car!

while she sleeps, hammocked

between front yard magnolias,

YOU BASTARDLY!  FRICKIN' DASTERDLY DRUNK!

           (ok, write him up)

              (verdict Friday)

                     (sentence pending)

 

Mainline your soul to its knees

you bastard!

pant chant-like

after me,

I want to..   LIVE!

(if you want to live)

 

I wanna live!

I wanna live!

I wanna see the Light!

I wanna see beyond

            steel bars

            cotton mats

            cell jars!

Hear me!    I'da be a free MAN!

            father

            mother

            trucker

            uncle

            sis

born of

            junkies

            hippies

            bankers

            jesus freaks

who go to church

            and work

            and grumble

            and do battle

unarmed genetically;

            too weak

            too worn

            too torn

was this free man,

            who pleads

            who labors

            who cries

                        for change, 

                                    for change, 

                                                for change!

Mantra me

            with panaceas,

                             newage gurus,

                                        spirit guides,

                                                       and quartz crystals.

Madame Oracle me

palm me,

                                              tarot me,

                                                            and tea  me

into richer times and grander schemes..

 

SEE. ME.

 

I be a dead man.

I want to live.

I want to LIVE!

 

 

Mantra me, my man, mantra me.

Pass the panacea, would ya,

and table the God talk, please?

 

As my steel gray matter clank closed.

    Weary on a mind quest

		I hear you
		cry out
		in the wilderness,
		your need to be alone -
		trapped within your mind
		and reeling 
		somersaults,
		no will to roam..
	
				you cry out		
			in your bewilderedness!
		NO! No!  Not yet!   I'm healing..
	
		enter quietly..
	
		..let the pain subside inside
		this mind that has no walls
		to keep conflicting worlds apart,
		or demons -
		fading art -
		or loss.
		
	
A budding beam of  precious light
cuts through my mind with speed 
too bright!
and  moves too swiftly
through dark Hades night,
too swift to light all fears which cling -
too swift to stay the hope it brings -
	
One must tip-toe through mind's labyrinth
until a power on feet with wings -
ignites my soul and builds in strength,
to slash-and-burn this hidden hell!
'til then..      

I walk in mental chains..
	
	and dodge mind shadows.

	
				I hear you!
				bewilderedness embraced!
				You need to be alone -
				to rest soul's endless quest for calm -
				to search your mind and put to test..
		
	
		Is not a dream
		this dreadful thing?
		Is not a dream
		that's left me reeling?
		Has God left me so
		to ponder long
		His sacred Scriptures or Psalm's song?

		Will He awaken me once more again
		to live in His power
		put soul to wing?
		Put to sleep this sleepless hour?
		Bring both Life and Soul that sing..?

	
				I hear you cry out!
				I swear..

				He hears!