The Fool, his transformation, The Fool and his daughter
On the spur,
falling through the motions of the air,
dissipating is the lackluster fool,
a lady pale as snow, hair so fair,
down on the path,
he hath no remembrance of night’s past,
the fool in his stupor, stumbles into her.
Cast from his mind is any doubt,
twinkle in her eye,
beautiful locks of rye,
the fool no longer wonders,
his mind clicking into place,
forgetting ideas from over yonder.
Down from Reno,
the wise man goes,
hand in hand with the fair lady,
going anywhere the wind blows,
catching the scintillating waves,
the smell of music, and the taste of sound,
here and there, everywhere,
melted in reality, is their face, their smile, their fire.
The apex of the moment,
is no longer wastefully spent,
the wise man and his fair maiden,
find their hole, I should say den,
one with the kindred,
they lay in bed,
the green refracted through glass,
a white rocket they pass,
contemplating the sound of a tree,
perfectly in harmony they begin to see,
that life isn’t unfair once you catch whiff of the fine air.
The day’s carry on,
meanwhile the chatter rambles on,
the Plant is wailing,
as the maiden is flaying,
her arms left and right,
locked in a vice,
her hand on his, exceptionally tight.
Breathe the middle one said,
the rumble of the womb,
late to arrival, the angel wails,
tears are ever present,
slowly and steady they make their descent.
Down the silken skin they drip,
tracing a line till they see fit,
the Wise man knows well,
and with joyous merriment wipes it dry.
With a soft motion the locks of rye turn,
to the Wise man planted next to the fern,
the fronds dangle overhead with much delight,
with a glimmering smile and no sign of fright,
the young couple share their creation,
with a love so strong, much drawn to affection,
the young angel is cusped to her arm,
and the wise man ensures no harm.
Dedicated to my brother and his beautiful daughter.
- 2 weeks ago
The streets sing the song of victory.
Papers fly everywhere,
people sing and chant, “it’s all over”,
shamrocks and clover’s line the streets all-over.
The crowd stands proud in defiance, they took a stand,
against the black veil of corruption, they took a chance,
with love in their hearts and flowers in their hands.
They may once again dance and see the light of day,
without obstruction of the fetid smog that once was in the way.
The black veil of exhausted soot,
no longer blackened the tall tree’s root.
"Hey mom, look at all the people!",
the young child said,
no longer were they lonely,
praying to the god forsaken pretty people on the steeple.
Once born in a generation so dead,
dead to the fact that there existed,
undulating subliminal attacks,
pounding subtle images into your mind and senses,
breaking the stalwart path and finding you in an early sentence.
A life sentence of misery and lack of truth,
of searching without instead of within,
flying through life on each emotional whim,
hoping to catch a sensation of pleasure,
each and every time,
each and every fucking time,
they sought pleasure to quickly measure,
they’re self-righteous desires to be pompous,
looking down on what they considered drones,
till they fell sway to their own disease, down to their very bones.
such a heavy word,
love is all you need, they’ve played the lines before,
in the days of generation’s past,
their efforts left an imprint for us to grasp,
as they clasped their hands and sang of peace,
and a rolled up medicine was gently passed,
the gooks in the jungle were mortally gassed.
You see, it’s not so different where we are at,
except its television that alienates us from the past,
if we don’t stop to see that the evil is back,
the subliminal messages will continue to attack.
- 3 weeks ago
- 3 weeks ago
love towering above,
above the silken skies,
above all the lies,
peering down over life’s demise,
your masterful gaze is ever so complacent,
taking a dark and long descent,
down the path of regret which you are forging.
Bricks laid sideways and mortar yet to dry,
the very pace of this feeling is not going to die,
may the progression of events seem like molasses,
that I must wait patiently, peering past my glasses,
at your beautiful self, and you know what else?
I can’t help myself,
your ever so alluring,
and I know you find it endearing,
for me to serenade you with poetry,
from the bowels and depths of what’s inside of me,
but darling just listen,
listen for a little bit,
I can’t quit,
I have this feeling that won’t remiss,
and I know now here something is amiss,
like a missing piece of the puzzle,
like a lost gear in clockwork,
its as if everything is hanging in the balance to make this work.
I don’t mind counting my days till oblivion,
but one thing is for sure,
that while I am still breathing,
you are to know of my affection.
- 3 weeks ago
I find pure joy,
when I hear your words, I dare not toy,
with the thought of an imminent interruption,
into your the softness of your voice, the sweetness of your gaze,
I may loose my mind in space,
but I don’t care,
space, ceasing to be a place,
where everything I see, I fall to, and stay amazed,
I’m not lost in the windows of my soul,
quite the opposite I’m treading willfully,
into the recesses of this dark checkered paradise,
where demons of thought wrangle with my synapses,
and the thoughts they loop, incessant lapses,
of highs and lows,
of the ego’s blows,
I throw myself into the ether, and return,
with a smile, that you may in turn,
hear these beautiful tales of valor,
and not be lost in the world’s squalor,
so we may sit like children in the rain,
and share the fiery needles of life’s pain,
I know you struggle, and I know I smuggle,
the truth amidst the lies,
the beauty that lies in disguise,
its not all dark and gritty in this painful city,
a weeks work and wait, makes it all the worth,
just to see you for one fleeting moment,
so that I may be spent,
with all the words I’ve been holding,
all the thoughts that are unfolding,
because I know that you’ll listen without diluting,
to these words of mine, without intruding,
I see it in your eyes, you genuinely care,
I hope your not scared darling,
because the world is a big place,
but I’ll say it a thousand times and definitely keep it in this mind of mine,
I find comfort in just looking,
at that beautiful face.
- 1 month ago
Here, there, and everywhere
If there was an inkling of laughter,
of tall affection amidst the rapture,
id tell you I’ll watch the moonlight glare,
amidst the towering rafters of the castle of my mind,
and know that my sanity has been left behind,
knowing that that beautiful light has given its share,
to my puny little soul,
I know that it’s goal,
is not to impress me or undress me,
the beautiful moonlight is there to caress thee,
under its starlit haze,
that the rampant thoughts in your head cease to be a maze.
I am amazed by you, I do wish to tell you,
that I’m just dying and trying,
confiding and chiding,
my very own self,
soldered and steeled,
from the earth, the stars, the sun, and the moon,
and knowing that we all share this creation,
I find genuine elation, knowing we are all the same,
you don’t roundabout and step around in a pointless game,
never caught up in someone else’s fame,
I guess that’s one of the many things attractive,
about your porcelain frame,
but let’s not digress to the physical,
for many lovers past have treaded that familiar ground,
I tell you what I see is not tangible,
what I hear is much more ample,
from those sweet lips, great words carry,
and when the days and nights might leave me weary,
I find solace in the simple pleasure of your voice and logic,
I don’t know what it is, but darling your so magnetic.
- 1 month ago
thing from over yonder,
thing with gazing eyes of wonder,
I dare not associate you longer,
with the deprecating meaning of a mere “thing”.
For you to me are beautiful,
eyes full of luster,
eyes to behold,
with courage I can barely muster.
Tall and blazing like the sun,
firm on your feet, lacking the jump,
of a wild revolver, a target-less gun,
your powerful words stream in waves,
and I must say, I’m a fool for you,
but of that I’m not too concerned,
what is it that bides my time?
It’s these words that cascade and rhyme.
So that soon one day,
they might make you smile,
and when your teeth glimmer in the light,
my heart may soar, it’s love taking flight,
that dreams as they seem might break their seam,
of the perpetual reality that I’m in.
That the veil of my thoughts master my arms,
to enfold your refined waist,
and to think this poetry will not go to waste,
because what once seemed to me so illusory,
will most certainly fight it’s contrary nature,
of falsification, and know now,
without a sliver of a doubt,
that together, we might have a future.
- 1 month ago
Little miss lover
One thing I gotta tell you,
and you know it’s true,
I’ve only one burning desire,
let me stand next to your fire,
Little miss lover, may I inquire,
what do you require,
for your gaze to land my way,
to penetrate through me like the light of day.
I tell you darling,
it ain’t far fetched,
my thoughts ain’t so retched,
but I do say, my emotions are stretched,
at the thought of those eyes,
they seem to be my melting demise,
the very thing they comprise,
incomprehensible at times,
alluring and daring, for the sake of rhymes,
I can’t stress it enough darling,
I ain’t no fool to be fearing,
no fool to be rearing,
from that beautiful flower that’s nearing,
wide with wonder like a daisy on a clearing,
call me whimsical, that’s what they all dare say,
call me classical, that’s my name for today,
I’m no shadowy figure in the contrast of your fire,
quite the contrary, your flames I do admire,
trudging through the mire of daily existence,
shit, I must cling ever so willfully to my persistence,
can’t hide my head in the sand for much longer,
I write this poetry to make that connection much stronger,
its true little miss lover,
I do like you,
your beautiful in all,
beautiful in the fall,
and I’ve surely tripped over a refined jewel,
and now you got’s me stupefied like a lovelorn fool.
- 1 month ago
The years go by, the time it flies, by golly I won’t die.
There is a reason for every indecision,
every act of treason, every lacking disposition,
the sky is pale, with tattered clouds bearing hail,
and it pours densely, clattering madly on heavy streets,
the women and their babies stir from deep sleep,
the foam from the mountains rumbles deep,
and a dark wind blows.
The goal of them all, was to climb to the top,
to watch them all fall, claws reaching further,
never ceasing to stop,
mother nature, they hurt her.
They carried forth with a grim expression,
their higher self regressed as an egocentric possession,
and they moored their ships,
in the name of all that’s unholy they came,
they pointed and called out the blame,
to the dozens of naked bodies,
their glimmering peace snuffed out like shit that smears their leather boots.
Halberds cut deeply,
weary they were in their dazed stupor,
wearing armor from hell, their chinks so incandescent,
on the mad descent they went,
they founded a society on bloodshed,
their roots are entangled deeply,
and the dead growth carries on.
And while I reflect on the passing of history,
I know that in my mind there is no misery,
knowing I’ve set eyes on a flower,
its colorful petals reach every direction,
its scent marked with power,
the power to woo me,
simple old me,
in my little desk tucked away,
from the onslaught of day,
and the mystery of night.
I dare not fight,
the feeling of which,
occurs to me,
when I seek the flower,
its blooming essence oh so great,
I’m willing to ponder and bet as of late,
that the standing beauty of that simple flower,
will carry forth through the most grim winters,
and survive the driest heats of passing summers,
oh that flower,
that beautiful flower,
I dare not cower,
for she is real.
- 1 month ago
The bane of my existence, the love in her eyes.
In deep disguise I lie,
awake for the sake of trying,
the chattering continues, and the tears persists,
I know that her fears are laid bare, for me to soothe,
for me to care.
I love the way she smiles, all the while taking the time,
the time to look and see,
the time to feel the air around me,
the time to arouse her hearing,
the time to pay attention, I find it so endearing.
I’ve no fear of attraction,
I must say that anything else would be an infraction,
to the soul which moored itself to my body,
to the love which permeates the grand symphony of life.
I just wish I knew how to play the lute,
to serenade her with just one more note,
and I tell you that it wouldn’t be a joke,
that if I played loud enough, I’d convince her.
Here, there, and everywhere,
the signs play out,
and I tell you, I stay devout,
to the great spirit of wonder,
the within, and without,
the celestial I do dearly ponder.
And as I walk these sleek streets,
and witness the masses, oh so asleep,
I strive further to reach oblivion,
that darkness may bring renewing light,
on to these hollow souls with their secret plight,
gazing softly at the words of the poet’s delight.
I take a sip of the fine air,
let it waver in my lungs,
let it expunge that which doesn’t serve me,
I know in life, I wish she’d deserve me.
She’s got eyes of rye,
and I can’t lie,
that if it wasn’t for fealty,
I would certainly,
clasp her hand into a starlit night,
and whisper softly, heeding her plight.
- 1 month ago