Big Fat Liar

Bogus lips who wave and waddle in

A wind of fabrication.

Bastardized capitulation to the

Terms of simple reason,

Killing any last good hope that

Principal might will and win.

Withering on sun-dried porches,

Wallow in your dismal dregs.

 

When did it become such labor?

Such a ruesome journey just to

Find a fact and lay it out in

Rhythmic sweet simplicity.

 

When did stealth subversiveness

Become the ruling master plan?

Is it greed? Is it mead to

Grace the face of conversation?

 

Am I ill to be pragmatic?

Wanting fact in place of ilk.

Cast your fate with yellow dogs

When truth subverts to holiday.

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Together for Never

We can’t seem to get together

In this helter-skelter mix.

Pathways never quite converge in

Forest green or meadow bright.

Often time it’s hill or mountain

Blocking view, come between.

Even when we find a tunnel

Funneled miles without the light.

 

Seeking grand and righteous virtues

You fly high above my brow,

Teasing me to grab your wing, to

Fly beside you on your quest.

But flying high above the crowd,

Beyond the clouds, is not my cup.

Grounded here on common soil,

I seek only happiness.

 

No doubt somewhere eons hence

Our kindred souls shall meet again.

But for now we close our blissful eyes and

Dream what might have been.

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Heartbreaker

Hail to the heartbreaker,

Standing tall.

May you get all you consider your due.

May the puppy you thrashed

Bounce back biting you

In the ass as you sit high on your wall

Looking down, sad, smug smile on your face.

Never imagining you’re the hard case.

Never considering you’re a disgrace

To your gender,

Pumped as you are with such gall.

 

Truce and truth…

Let the moment subside.

Pry yourself from the crack

Where you hide.

Sample humility… swallow some pride…

See what your stifled mem’ry recalls of

A time you sat in opposing chairs,

Totally baffled, unaware of

The lead ball headed straight for your heart,

Leaving you desolate…

         Lost…

                 And small.

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Breakdown

Smothering clouds hold the sunlight at bay while

The raven’s scream cuts deep in my soul.

Spirit sinks low in a bottomless pit of despair

Where no one can find their feet.

 

Drifting in aimless, directionless haze.

Shifting position, adjusting my gaze.

Lift me please from this impossible maze.

Sifting out options, however discreet.

 

Where is my mindset?

Far gone my passion.

Blasted to pieces – a million and one.

Washed up on beaches as

Fodder to seabirds,

Or left undiscovered to shrink in the heat.

 

Tear-stained,

Mind drained of any compassion,

Weakened to sniffling, sniveling flesh.

Yield to the travesty.

Abandon logic.

Embrace the comfort of utter defeat.

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History Speaks. Is Anybody Listening?

Echoes bounce back constantly,

Reminders of transgressions, blind

Oppression, sad impressions,

Allegations of what might have been.

Someone even wrote it down,

Polished every detail, printed,

Sold it retail, turned a profit

Baked in mortal sin.

 

Prepubescent innocence is quell

To feed on fervorance,

And dies e’er it becomes intense

Enough to feed the quakes.

And we forget, or just don’t care

To read the notes of yesteryear,

And so are doomed beyond repair

To make the same mistakes.

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The Right Tool

Sometimes it takes a hammer,

Other times… a sponge.

Driving nails, driving home a point,

Or simply cleaning up,

Absorbing all the overflow

Emotions generate.

Tearing down the bitter

Brick and mortar of mistrust.

 

Raise the sword of savagery

When faced with fearsome foe.

Embrace the dove and laurel leaf

When beckoned to converse.

Face the world with pen in hand

To foster your belief.

Seek the book of knowledge

In ravenous repast.

 

Measure twice your choices

Before cutting them to fit.

Level every surface, every

Angle neatly squared.

Keep your tools in order,

Cleaned and ready; within reach.

Choices make the difference

Between sanity and strife.

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It Gets Better

Rent is due, funds are scarce and

The landlord is a putz.

Johnny’s failing all his classes.

Suzie is a klutz.

 

Momma says she needs new shoes.

Dad needs a new shirt.

Both bemoan the plight that comes with

Being poor as dirt.

 

Grandma called. She thinks that Grandpa

Should be in a home.

Can’t remember diddly-squat,

His mind has turned to foam.

 

Bubba fell out of the truck;

Broke an arm and leg.

Won’t be working for a while.

At least he saved the keg.

 

Aunt Fannie’s getting married

For the twenty-second time.

A slight exaggeration…. But

It should be a crime.

 

Maybe I’ll sit down tonight and

Write the Lord a letter,

Offer up a midnight prayer and

Hope that it gets better.

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Gamble Gambit

Anti up and deal the cards.

Face down. Face up. Call your game.

Call my bluff.

         Perhaps I’m lying.

Shrink and fold

         If you’re so lame

You can’t endure the hot/cold sweats,

Take a stand without regrets,

Lose the battle?

Lose the farm?

Face the challenge?

Place your bets.

 

You might be a first-move-maker

If you have it in your gut to

Gnaw and gnash and bare your fangs,

Claw and climb the rotting rut.

 

Taking chances.

         Lashing out.

                 Slashing deep

                          The unkind cut.

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Too Damned Lazy

Left unfinished,

         Left unstarted, 

                          Left for someone else to do.

Right a wrong.

         Write a letter.

                 Right wing. Left wing. Nothing new.

 

Preaching, teaching,

         Reaching forward.

                 Backward, sideways. More delays.

Laboring

         Procrastination,

                 Bellicose to boast malaise.

 

Don’t demure to

         Sinful sloth,

                 Sob and sigh for jobs undone.

Do the deed to

         Damn the doubters.

                 Slam the slobs who shun the sun.

 

Sit up. Get up

         Off your ass.

                 Although vision may be hazy.

There’s no season,

         There’s no reason left

                 For being too damn lazy.

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Dark Tunnel

See the tiny pinprick light

That in the distance glows, it

Grows as I move closer through

This dark and dreary hole.

 

I would cash in favors for

A flashlight or a lantern.

Man was never meant for the

Existence of a mole.

 

I had both eyes open when I

Waltzed into this wasteland,

Welcoming the challenge of

A bold spelunker’s quest.

 

But here the night is smothering,

Leading me to ponder that

When next I need a challenge

I’ll just smash a hornet’s nest.

 

Find a rope to lead me

Out of this dark tunnel maze,

Ease the claustrophobic grasp and

Put my soul at rest.

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To the Moon

Earthbound and shackled by

Constant confusion, daily profusion of

Sanctified sacraments,

Fretting the gamut of secular musings,

Seeking a meaningful, practical pose.

Wherefore and what for,

Therefore and much more.

Searching and lurching,

Gasping for air,

Grasping a dare to break free

Of the confines

Defy all the gravity holding me here.

What then to do?

Where then to go?

Do I find Valhalla or Brigadoon?

So many places to fly in the heavens.

     Venus…

          Mars…

               Or just to the moon.

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Let Me Out of Here

When did these four walls materialize?

Could I have been so hard asleep

I did not notice the carpenter’s hammer

Banging and framing? Closing me in.

 

No door, no window, no staircase to climb.

Nary a toehold to boost to the top

So I might peek the other side to

Spy my accuser, determine my sins.

 

 Trapped in a prison, not knowing why or

When or if I’ll deserve a reprieve.

Silently praying, petitioning Heaven to

Send down an angel to rescue my soul.

 

Wond’ring if anyone knows where I am,

Cares that I’m gone and alone in my shame

As darkness descends and I cry in anguish,

Plead for deliverance from the cold.

 

Lost and alone.

Bursting with fear.

Will someone please

Let me out of here?

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Basic Evil 101

Born of serpents to the darkness.

Raised in shadows, out of sight.

Stalking stealthily the night

To prey on poor unfortunates.

 

Creeping out from under rock just

Far enough to test the air.

Lashing out at those who dare to

Cross your wayward slitherings.

 

Don your pretty plastic mask

To hide the fire that otherwise

Comes flashing forth from flaming eyes of

Grand deception, burning lies.

 

Pity those who cannot see

The heinous horror in your hate, who

Shake in fear when it’s too late

To simply turn and run away.

 

Vigilance its own reward

To spurn the serpent in his lair,

Lock the door and keep him where

His poison will not kill.

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Suspicion

Hovering just out of reach,

Sightless shroud of malcontent

Waiting, lingering on the fringe

Trying to look innocent.

 

Hoping to create some doubt,

To find a crease into the mind,

To wither any self-assurance,

Rip it, strip it from the vine.

 

Such a beast, jealous mistress,

Such a greedy, seedy slut.

Bastard of the first degree

Plunging daggers in the gut.

 

Mixing potions with your poisons

Stealthily distributing

In lethal dose to unsuspecting hunted prey.

You close your ring.

 

Silent gestures still the night,

Fill each chamber with despair.

Nations tremble,

Kingdoms fall,

As suspicion fills the air.

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I Fear…

It’s not snakes or hour-glass spiders,

Angry dogs with snarling fangs,

No, not reckless breakneck speed

Or deadly drops from desperate heights.

 

Not the threat of godless cons who

Battle brave behind a gun

Conscience bare of any shred of

Civilized humanity.

 

Not wind or water, hail or blizzard,

Nor any form of nature’s force,

Though nature is a frightening bitch

To be respected, if not feared.

 

Not the sound of cannon fire

That rings a distant knell of death, or

Storming troops in battered streets

Killing anything that moves.

 

Rising up in silence on a morning

Fresh with golden sun,

The thing that I fear most of all:

Waking without you.

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Pursuit

Must be at least a thousand beats per minute now

Thump-thumping pumping radically

As though it might explode.

 

Endorphins flying high on the adrenaline

Reaching out emphatically

To take the overload.

 

Elongated light curves out ahead of me

Bending back so I can see

Pursuers closing fast.

 

Reaching out with claws to slash and tear my flesh,

Teeth to gnash and grind my bones

To powdery repast.

 

Shifting all my power into overdrive,

Find the means to stay alive,

Keep the bloody beast at bay.

 

No bold rescuer, no cavalry

Swooping in as savior. It’s only me

Desperate to get away.

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Listen To the Lies

Wrestling with the grave predisposition,

Clinging to a trusting nature,

Wanting desperately to find

A simple something to believe.

 

Hoping that the fangs have been retracted,

Waiting silently in shadows til

The shackles turn to butter,

Yearning for a fast reprieve.

 

Walk into the den of fire and lions,

Leave your weapons at the doorstep,

Slide the deadbolt from the outside,

Blindfold covering your eyes.

 

Judgment takes a permanent vacation,

Blinded by the situation.

Pavlov’s pet in its creation

As you listen to the lies.

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Gulch Jumpers

We use to jump through puddles

In the springtime

In the rain.

We laughed and then got yelled at

When our mothers saw

Our soaking shoes.

We spent our teenaged summers

Jumping gullies

Falling short.

We laughed and we got yell at

For our dirty

Dungarees

Our chasm grew much wider

When the leaves

Began to fall.

We laughed a little less and yet

The yelling

Had been stilled.

Now wintertime approaches

And our gully

Is a gulch.

And I don’t have the energy

To jump

To laugh

To yell

To cry.

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A Heavy Price

Danger is a constant force

That presses ever closer

When goals come into focus and

The prize lies just ahead.

Tiptoeing around it would be

Prudent if not easier than

Bulling past with helmet lowered

Striking head to head.

Lying dazed and shattered

Hazed and tattered from the battle,

Hearing sideline prattle wanting

Desperately to know.

Did I cross the goal line as

The seconds ticked to nothing?

Will I ride on shoulders or

Is this the final show?

Heroes are just suckers

Offered up for sacrifice,

Willingly forsaking as

They pay a heavy price.

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Scary, Scary

Monster faces…

         Scary, scary…

Moaning, wailing

         In the night.

Bloody hands reach out

         In darkness

Searching for a

         Throat to squeeze

Til every ounce of

         Precious life

Has left the soul to

         Take to flight,

Every thought snuffed

         Into blackness,

Life stilled with

         Delightful ease.

Damn you, Monster!

         Damn to Hell

Your crass satanic

         Evil ways.

I defy your

         Midnight revels,

Stand with dagger,

         Sword and shield.

Ready to defend

         My castle

With my last

         Remaining breath.

Breathe your fire.

         Do your worst.

I shall never,

         Ever yield.

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Low-balled Again

Blanked and bewildered by

Low-ball deception,

Cranked up and shanked with

A shiv to the gut.

Offered up lamb-like to

Bare pagan ritual,

Left like road kill to

Rot in the rut.

 

You might have thought I would

Learn by now to

Stay out of the waters where

Sharks tend to tread.

But blinders and short-term

Memory lapses

Beckon for strangers to

Crawl in my bed.

 

I take exception,

Protest in anger.

No matter the offer from

Stranger or friend.

My eyes won’t falter.

My will won’t wither.

I will never be

Low-balled again.

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Ambush

Who would have guessed it? No one suspected.

You, so lucid, so docile, so meek,

So filled with scruples, so bent on tolerance,

Never suspected of vengeful bones.

 

But truth is a bitch who knows no remorse,

And facts lie before us in humbling rote.

You, in your passion, committing atrocities

No one who knows you could ever foresee.

 

Now in reflection I see you rehearsing,

Running your lines again and again.

No room for error. No turning back now.

Focused obsession your only meal.

 

Keep your head down and be very still.

Become invisible. Don’t make a sound.

Silence and stealth frame an alliance

Able to bring down the largest of prey.

 

Wait for your moment to leap from the shadows.

Pounce with a fierceness that overwhelms

The bravest heart, crushing resistance,

Crumbling will like an axe to the skull.

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Old Man

Look at you. You are amazing.

There must be a thousand stories buried deep

Behind that face. Every wrinkle proudly earned,

Every crease a battle-scar.

It wouldn’t launch a single ship,

But tells a tale of odyssey.

Furrowed deep by sun and smoke,

Brow and cheeks reflecting but a memory

Of taut and toned.

The mirror can be so unkind.

Burying the past behind a mask so heavy

That it’s only seen in pictures taken somewhere

Far away.

Long ago.

Hard to picture in my mind

You running, skipping, hurdling,

Making sweet love in your prime,

Bent to set the world on fire.

Beg me listen to your story.

Let me nestle at your feet.

Teach me. Guide me to your wisdom.

I have so much yet to learn.

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Tic Toc Tic

Ever forward, stepping out.

Are you enemy or friend?

Able to repair great sorrow,

Only to delay the bitter ending

That is sure to come.

Measuring in constant cadence

Ticking, tocking, ever so.

Far too busy to look back,

Never stop to find a home.

Bold and brave you sally forth,

Never known to shed a tear,

Wear a frown, laugh out loud,

Stone-faced bastard that you are.

Can’t you stop? Slow your pace?

Catch the fragrance while it lingers,

Or are you too busy trying desperately to

Reach your star?

Tic… No pressure. No emotion.

Toc… On board. No turning back.

Tic… No warning. No deception.

Challenging to raise the bar.

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You Can Run, You Can’t Hide

Darkened corners offer little comfort

As a hiding place.

Secret spaces so remote that no one

Knows your name, your face. Your alibi is

Suspect, just a rubber band that’s

Stretched to snap with one last tug.

Eye’s cast down trying to deny disgrace.

 

I was there.

I was witness to your folly;

So unwise.

Gambling your very soul, for what?

The odds of winning any prize were

So remote, stacked against your favor

From the very start.

But I could not convince you or

Erase the stardust from your eyes.

 

Now the knock upon your door

Coming to collect your debt.

Paying with a pound of flesh.

Sad conclusion.

Hard regret.

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