A Blender FaNtasticElectric: PostmOdern Pop Poems
when they come back from winter marking each
life in a notebook taking stock
of birds lost and newly recorded entries of life
when men come to adulthood they shed
their youngnew earth colored feathers fly to make life
strong as honeysuckle in the morning living
testaments in dirt feathers longing to breathe
having patterns unshakable as foundations
to sky scrapersthe haunted bird follows
patterns to fly toward warmer climes but most
never return the earth feathers are all
remaining of their bodies lost to the elements
hard storms, floods, and predators
men are fools like sparrows because we
believe hard work will provide all things AND
every year the sparrow struggles to return
thrown in the wind alone from a death silver sky
In the heart chasm of man the rhythm pulsates wild Every man draws breathe before flight to the shaded woods The sparrow looks on sees man envies him then carries on to the call of nature
Kurt Vonnegut and the Time Traveling Circus
walking masses on the pavement
they limp on the sidewalk like a
tortured roller coaster slumping click
clack up a hill Vonnegut looks on with
his time traveling circus reflecting autumn
nights at a mischievous carnival in Greenwood
Indiana I wore a Planet of the Apes t-shirt
in Rome, he tells a tramp in the 80's
Kurt ate the fish and loaves; it tasted like
scented sacrament, meaty and untarnished
he smoked Camel filters with Euripides
he appeared in prehistoric times; saw the
beginnings of man inked out of blackness on
the forest floor he saw the horrid wars
PAin spilled out like grains
of sand on the hot beaches of Florida AND
like a child at the edge of the sea
he took in the Inca society
he was there when man drank up
the river Nile ImBIBing its life essence
he walked down the river to meet Pharaoh
The king was a nice guy, he thought,
but quite stupid
when the time traveling circus preformed
for the children of Egypt it was in a blaze of
sequins and powdered sugar
The children ate deep fried corn dogs
and ranch taco salads in the desert sun
AgES of people, places and things and everyone
still loves a corn dog
Kurt wrote all this down but you'll have to
wait until Amazon releases the book for
the Holiday season I think its twenty dollars…
To Girls I would like to Kiss: Contemporary Jack Tripper Tale
Cliché sTawBerry wine
wind pipes of doubt
To girls
I wish only
you would see to me beauty
with rain ice caverns steep slopes
I am not afraid of touch
silk screenporch and rust
Your great joY Jack Tripper
is the threesome black and blond
who by peace of living
gives me starmist starfish starfruit
Would I be Jack Trippers son?
for love Prefontaine
competition orange blanched blonds?
I will choose to run in wild fields
summer
run until old and without breath
to love and lovechoice I choose
freedomholykiss
To the nights in deserts
Judas is her lover car stops
sweeping flashes of TechniCOLOR
walking down PeterPaUl movie seats
this for champagne, blueberry roses,
little fingers of popcorn
The wanton dream of God Like
people places time sports cavalcades arenas
masterpieces credits roll
black orange night streets dowsed in rain
humidity rises joydencitrusstreet
Hell to no man calls of timeless
cellstripes Madre Mountains Queen Oceans
Take me to your bedchamber!!!
for all of sight sound dewing DREaM
and give climbing Frankincense mountains
turning the car over he whispers alone
sings alone fucks alone
do you dreaM in in velvetbones Dante?
I’m
cl
im
b
ing
down…
Freud
Brown Eyes: The love of Bonny Raitt Blues
Jet black TUTUs
Sunday news
teal, grey, transcendental blues
For God so loved the world
he gave his only Son
did you see?
hand nails torrid lovepain
and brown eyes beseeched whole heart?
Only bubbledouble helix
DoCtOrs of physics proclaim
wisdom of womanly descent
who by wisdom driving to
flesh only-steelfish
this the bite of pornography
hand upon hand
taping rain father gold’s
Christ died for emeralds blue diamonds
foxingcrescentmoons symphony dyed hair
she giving to me my wisdom
glamour heels whose spike
gleaned upon brown eyes
and took the breath of smoking
joy Jenny Toys RCA
TVS StaTIC commercial orange Versace
lifting Easter SKIES
WHEn in Autumn is made of rice stocks and fire
A poll Conducted Yesterday SHOWs Hieronymus Bosh Leading Love
I called yesterday for HB
he answered back to feel
the deep
Oceans are undiscovered covered with
mountains and valleys and poppy fields and
quarter arcades
I called yesterday for HB
he answered back to paint
hope
Damn the widow who spoke to me
whose painted pained eyes covered the multitude of artistic sorrow
I have not called HB back
a champion of wineskins, ribs,
oiled cubes, neon white crosses, blue jays and robins
I called Mr Dali today
but he was being baptized
in truth
at Sunday noon
with high skies and art museum smells
standing with Gauguin’s gifted glamorous ghost
Seattle
seagull eyes shores of popping tides
tide ocean drifts logwood on soggy banks
Seattle has been prismed
Tuesday tawdry turnspoonknifefork
Seattle silver this was yesterday
the great joy of prisms rainbow red
but I could (of course) talk of gold
yak yak gold standard
I took a trip on an orange ocean runner
played dance to Seattle’s ghosts
these are the yak
yak yellow ghosts
but I was too young to know Hendrix grave
the whistling Sound Garden and Kobain
ANd to the SUN!!!
with glorious ghost show hosts
and pavilion rain soaked fish
where sweet house coffee comingles
THIS to the God STArSBusterSweetLyinglamplightwish!!!
And this to Fuchsiacarnations
When setting out for lost land
seas of sweeping shores come
greyyellowgold sand
To her I wish A life
of bespeckled dancing
I have seen her eyes she
of motion soul who by
cherub dancing wind life
with reckless freedom of only
youth
this is the living fire to which all
burns one day yet ember red
carry wonton fortune
But this of souls
of the cherry flowers
whose smell can recall to mind
yesteryears and I will DANCe
to
because of all of fortune tawdry
I can still see embers red
teapots symphonies arch legs fire
of the Holy Spirit and
Lilies DreSSED Night
with truth wise otherwise wheels
Song of Songs By Rule of Three
The Buckingham’s
bachelor teals
but I have seen your ghost
reach hands for you
this the truth of legend
stowaway ocean eyed
soil and dust life and rib
bejeweled timing whisper
drawn by night
when we have settled our debts to Blight
Blithe turns to Lilies
royal purple dressed
and in all splendor
mauve, love, sexual sight, wisdom, joy
of linkletter this lilies DreSSED night
Marmalade Methuselah
The door oak brown
thin veil
cigarette butts in the ashtray
the scent of three women
the saturation of
of…
what happened Methuselah
in the late years?
did each person talk of
daydreams 900 years old?
butterflies in alabaster
spun cloud cocoons
did waterbuffalo’s cherub?
Yesterday dooroaked
seas of white lapping tides
bespeckled yellow black wings
each of innocence
like paper moon children
(SPOKE MRS BLIGHT)
Untitled Tom
Did Tom
break with tradition?
he strolled hardboiled
flat fields
daisies the yellow daises
they
must think how gloryfilled
apartments are
when beloveds ask favors
to endless drives for coffee
and ceaseless anger
to nature again
it seems pointless now
having left the Yellow submIXed parries
yet I and Tom have seen
have seen ten thousand tears
ten thousand smiles
No Charity today
each, me, he, I, she, they, drought, timeshares,
Christmas powder, greenteasoap, San Francisco harlot
metaphor bikers deep shocked smiles
MR> Periwinkle Death do you think of me?
Eyes
saint saint
besmirched green eyes
what color eyes did Christ have?
odorful blue, browny, green of sea flats?
my imagination crosses carousels of lights
into her roomrest
she the enchanted oceanographer
my boredom of years untasseled
pitiful now
clached heartheat tumpwhite
her skin clay whisper oxide earth
did I bring couplets of roundrings to tearsoaked eyes?
she opened the boltlocked window
a placid bird escaped from the room
the saints timtom blitheing blue
Jimmy Joyce 1
batise blacks
Alone
eyesore jubilation
he was a waddling swan
he sought blueblack baptisms
charcoal chasm eye
he drove sisterstars into tears
he was alonE in his chaste Monday night football
he had a metaphycosis,
a turn table trial
on black paper
like I said he was alone
with sex fingers and lusted brainstreams
foaming with whitepurtredcream
like I said he was alone
CLASSIC TRI
Medusa
Medusa was nice until she was metamorphosed
You’d be a bitch too if you had snakes for hair
Icarus
Dastardly flight
the disobeying son slain by declaration
lies motionless in the water his youth a feral damnation
Freud wakes up afraid of his own shadow on the street
Medusa’s Mom
What’s the matter darling?
So what if you have snakes for hair?
Is it so bad?
O, you turn men to stone
just by a glance?
Than may be a problem honey,
you’re not getting any younger
Maybe you should think of sunglasses at night?
Or dyeing your snakes?
Don’t cry it’s not so bad
there could be worse things
Like your SISTERS
They’ll always be alone
This morning’s coffee
-it about the house of love
waiting morning of humid misted May
Everything he does he does for love
I couldspeak polite of love
synchronized beats of dawns duties
caramelcuppedcoffee BReWINg
deepest fears-
outout sIde darklight
I remember my faint sunrise stars
those who names called by God meant glory
She called me yesternight
the rhythm is a rebel
she greater than stars slitherskyswept yellow
My Aramaic gives strength for Her
To quiet coffee
dehydrated and then Nate Dog joined in…
to the last of Starfighters
My God of Archatexural Assenting Archetype
HISTory
To your red and bone passion
I forever give each to those who call each morning decorative objects
separate
full harmony
OLD age
Andy 2
Andy was a jeweled firefly
he drove mass art to mass consumption
he was a vagrant virtue
whose fatal loins drew forth
Romeo and Juliet silkscreened
from his own fragile moon jelly mind
I still believe in him
and always will
such is the life of the naïve
and people who own hangdog Lexus’ cars,
houses and rhythmical TV’s