from the _Mask_ series, work in progress

       How could you!

	   How could you
	say,
	you are so sensitive!
	ExTREmely sensitive
	to the feelings
	of others -
	when You
	cause me
	such EXquisite pain?!
	
	Don't you know
	the acts and deeds
	done through love
	infuse the soul?
	
	Can't you see
	mere words
	of love only appease
	the mind -
	and seldom convince
	the heart..?
	
	Sensitive my ass!

Babble on

If.

you would please.

get the message:

take stream-of-consciousness ramblings

you know,

the off-the-cuff

babblings,

[as in nonsense]

no. sense.

falsies & factoids,

phallic meanderings

and,

off-the-wall obelisk imagery,

4 letter words,

[leave love alone]

and same such stuff,

fold them in 3's,

roll up your sleeves,

and place the stuff up

your

 

 

point,

[the one your hat sits on] 

 

viz,

self-erected pious pyramid,

om in self awe, to the tune

of Hypocrisy in Osophies,

and confine them to the couch,

as in Freud-sense,

[sans the incense]

then,

no apology,

no offense.

                                                                

So long, mr. nemesis neanderthal

Now I hurt
as much as I loved then -
then, had I known this hurt
that is now -
			
would have kept a little more
of myself
for me -
how good it feels to say
			
I'm leaving you
for someone else -
			
that someone else is me.

	(Dedicated to Jennifer Volz, "Twilight" of Spilled Ink. I think it's her favorite.)

A stertorous audience turns a deaf ear:
A Stour Guy's Preamble 

Maybe it starts small

then festers,

a slight here a slight there

then pesters

presses on,

grows to fill the insides

the way air pumps up balloons,

contained yet unrestrained
then let go. 

It's senseless

who has the time

 

all this, within the body balloon,

blood-red damn race-car coursing

rally, with fuel-ups at Jugular

& Aorta Avenues, 

avoiding Stroke Station 

like a bat out of hell - but

wait!  what a wreck!  leaving nothing but

burn-out wearing a purple face.

 

It's so senseless

who has the time

 

its consumption can kill you -

obsession steal from you -

turn you inside out,

throw you for a loop,

end over end over end

over and over and over again.

 

It's so senseless

who has the time

 

Stoking the never-ending fire,

anger and revenge becomes you

when hate is life's only desire,

who would want to dwell in

a place so base -

it precludes love, tenderness, woman

and wife,

a heat-seeking missile

like attracts like,

hate has sharp eyes and a tongue like a knife -

 

it's senseless,

who has the time

and, 

 

you're such a smart bomb -

I hope you find yourself!

Why women don't trust men

In & out of blues too long,

think I'll stay around -

it only takes a certain kind,

to make me change my mind,

or lose it.

You make it too hard to leave,

too easy to stay,

thought to make your motto mine -

one day at a time & on your dime.

Over the top

Talk about overkill,
one would hope game
come to full stop.

So many windings:
		
		tops,
		toys,
		tempers,
		
	spinning top worlds,
	spinning to top words,
	no spin doc to stop

		tops,
		toys,
		tempers,

all programmed. i. suspect.
Marionette strings to a one-brain thing.
	
Simulation surprise!
	
Master Concocter springs sprung!
Cacophony askew -
introverted concaved carnalville catapulted -
nadir bound, otherworldly..

			as all knowing stars, sing.

 

Deadly  glance

Sinister one-eyed jack
could out-stare
fresh killed eyes, open
with keen precision,
	
if looks could kill-
his arrows of ice
	
suffice.

Pax domini..   vobiscum     (Father)

__________________________________________________

You, mild mannered man 	(crave me),

your quick temper hid from all 	(save me),

watch communion plate pass hand to

hand Old Woman mutters what a good man

humble Loving Father lucky woman that she is -

forgive us our sins Preacher man!

Every Sunday starts out righteous - thank God!

for Wednesday nights are voices

crashing through closed doors

sharp as cracking!  whips! and talk-in-tongues!

(heralding the binge once more)

O heavenly Jesus, save me

from your mild mannered man,

for I know only contempt -

holding his false image to my face -

wear your mask.

         Two-seater comfort station

				                If we must comport,
				then let's part with words -
				words like thank you,
				we had our good times
				and,
				may God go with you:
				
				for in so doing
				we not only protect
				precious memories
				we've shared -
				we also leave open the door,
				should our circumstances
				ever changing

				change.
				
				In other words -
			        business as usual.

Halloweaned

__________________________

 

There's nothing hallowed

about this day,

unless

druidism is your Way?

More's the wayward mind,

wide-eyed drunk,

shriveled and shrunken

talking heads,

spiked -

like an olive on a tooth

pick,

on wrought iron wills.

 

Cats gutted & strung up,

charred -

for the fun of it,

mores lost

to treatful days

long past,

a loaded bag

thrown

up on granma's porch,

a trick

too common

to make a stink.

 

By today's standards,

it's no teen with a match

sans malice -

it's your 7 year old -

stealing daddy's torch

with a bead on

your head!

 

What used to be good

old-fashioned mischief

has turned evil eye -

now life imitates art.

 

Mom says

"don't let your imagination

run wild with you tonight,

my little precioussssezzzes,

 

don't!

run amok

out of control."

 

(And,

 

isn't it just like man

to kill,

when a boo will do?)

tamer

	old man geezer neighbored 'hi'
	green teeth sugar smile on mutant head,
	made me round up puppy dog
	in shed that housed his dusty clunker,
	made me think doggie a prize
	to keep, if I would place the tie
	around his neck "and just keep calm,
	he's a stray but he'll make a fine pet"
	said this farmhand, my young mom's friend -
	he knew about the wren I tamed,
	and my bunnies from under the porch nest,
	mom told him about my way with the wilds
	so I knew why he picked me
	child that I was -
	it took awhile for that stray to gain my trust
	"you're a good girl, now hold him still"
	I never saw it coming!  but I can still hear it
	reverberating off thin tin siding and, oh my God!
	strange Elmer's crazyface *flash*smokinghand!
	frozen in time, this memory, this heart,
	and the way its body went thump thump
	on the gravel behind his truck to the dump.

		You. finito.

	
			            A memory,	
			a simple unwanted discardable memory,	
			you once king-on-the-mountain you	
			soon to reign in the scrap pile
			of don juans & gigolos 	(caro mio),
			finally the finale 	(finito).
	
			        Was once a time,
			moment in time		(ahhh memento),
			when your facade played the room
			to every dance face smiling by -
			your propensity to infidelity & lies
			took them from some ballroom girl-of-a-whirl
			inside your world of bar room girls -
			the price they paid was total.
	
			        I am a whisper -
			a throaty whisper
			which remains in your ear,
			echoes throughout your mind.
			No. You shall not forget me,
				my image has been well engraved -
			may creep from behind your eyeball
			flash itself upon the screen
			of your closed eyelid
			at any time,
			to remind you;
	
			        of once upon a time -
			when you were king -
			full of know-it all-ledge,
			king-on-the-mountain 	(king of sin),
			carnal,	 (per favore),
			known for baiting 	(cleverly waiting),
			on ballroom to bar room girls -
			you rode them Ferris wheel called Never Stop.
			Now,
			your Muses in their ring side seats -
			watch your final act upon the heap -
			of aging mediocrity,	albeit at the top!

	
			           .finito.

Dedicated to the King of RAP (rec.arts.poetry) M*r*k 

Peace, or die!

	We are soldiers of peace
	a trampling over tiny tulips a la tim -
	we do not suffer fools in curly
	whirly-wigs, or whining ukulele lips
	bent on shattering the fragile and the gifted,
	Austrian-lead crystal-lined brains!
	no - we will be surly early morning risers
	on the eve of destruction - but beware -
	if not for matins prayer
	
	my mind should have shattered years ago.
	
	We are soldiers of peace!
	Don't want any feminazi skin-headed grief,
	we do not suffer fools or freaks
	while teaching camaraderie,
	multiculturolinguistically - oh no -
	we march to the right orders - left
	by our forefathers who knew the meaning
	of civility and standing ones ground -
	if not - for Christ's sake -
	
	this union would have no matter years ago!
	
	We are!  soldiers!  of peace!
	We will kill long deep and continuously -
	if you stand in our way for God's sake!