Hear Ye

Let agitated discourse run its course
Give space to plotters to reveal devices

Noise IS absorbed by silence
Why blabber mouths so disdain the pregnant pause

Two on One

The past, the ever present past.

Your tongue tethers me to my sins
like a baby fastened to the nipple
The sour milk of discontent

Mea culpa
mea culpa
mea maxima culpa.

Be forgiven and go to hell

On this failed husband's tombstone write:
He made her hate him
Pray reincarnation does not exist

It Hurts

I love you to the depth of touch,
the scent of you, aches so much,
I love you almost mindless.

Bill and Martha have coupled decades
After a spat of major proportions,
Martha's brain springs a leak.

Is it serious? Believe it is,
that would cause Bert O'Hearn to pray again in Catholic
first time since graduating from Cardinal Hayes High School.

The finality of every marriage is eventual separation.

In the beginning

No height
no width
no length

Only depth
only breath

The dot collapsed
the point, pointless and of no consequence
to the magnification of the greater zero

No period between us
no departure that is not a sublime embrace

The inward flow
even while projecting outward
all directions set as one

Moving, moving, exponentially
In the beginning to the beginning

The ever present
Magnificence
Beresheet bara Eloihim...

Pain, Pleasure and Thanksgiving

If the insult is merited
Abigail will grin and gulp it down,
smiling sheepishly that she;s been discovered.

If the insult is unmerited.
she will begin to plot an appropriate plan of action.

The difference between Situation One and Situation Two:
Situation One induces a sense of relief
in that truth makes free.

Situation Two, however, sparks the lust to do battle.
Vengeance is of the Lord, but make of me your instrument.

Abigail is pleased to report,
that she is presently beyond pain and pleasure.
Well, let's be clear about that ---

Pains there are, still hanging about,
but there are more like weathered mausoleums than faces

and places.

Prized Possessions

Two gifts, how that particular child was selected to receive,
another yarn for another time ( I hope.)

The first gift is a calling card extraordinary,
judging from whom it comes.

The second gift, an ordinary watch,
cheap of the cheapest kind.

The calling card --- on linen paper
executive, exquisitely embossed.

The watch --- Mickey Mouse,
hand band pink, silver stars glued on.

Enterprising as the child is,
she takes her prized gifts on tour.

And so, with a little help from enterprising parents,
Patty Donovan sets the calling card on stage left in neon lights.

The watch, she puts in velvet case, stage right ,lit to look
like the Elizabeth Taylor knockout rock, gift from Jacko.

Between calling card and watch exhibits are placed loud speakers,
which deliver the card holder's speeches during his tenure in office.

Hey, we're talking big time here, gifts of state
from the President of these United States, no less.

Well, the road show is a big success of course,
raved about on TV and You Tube

Until that is, the FBI gets wind of it,
and little Miss Donovan's exhibits are declared verboten

An archaic law dictates, that no two presidential gifts
may be put on public exhibit in the same venue by a recipient.

Thus, the enterprising family is forced to surrender
one of the two prized possessions.

Luckily, Internal Revenue does not get on their case for tax evasion.
I ask you, reader, which gift would you have surrendered?

Calling card in linen paper, signed by The Man, himself,
or Mickey Mouse cheapie imported from China?

The Last Charge

My steed and I...
say hello to Polish honor
say goodbye to four legged cavalry

We go from trot to full gallop
We're reach the tanks before the others,
and down we go like twin riders.

Sometimes the horse dark wins,
though the prize be panzer fire.

What is Planet?

It's a plan
It's a plane
It's a net.
It's a plan, plane, net of planet
It's God's work to mystify us

Storm of The Century

I should have seen you coming
Instead, I soaked in the unseasonably warm weather.
I did not see the momentary frown over Hatteras
I took no note of its passing darkness
It was my periodic escape from Charlotte
to the siren call of Kill Devil Hill

Started the nor'easter with drizzle
into the weekend increased to deluge
wind and lightning contending
transformers popping down the blustery coast
goodbye to late night television's friendly ghosts
so long to internet chatter and virtual love.

The upside to inclemency of weather
is the sharing of skin
under layer of blankets
of spouses who have long forgotten
how much can be erected
from a casual touch in utter blackness.

Ain't this romantic,
candle lit hallways and toilets...
Our silent glances measuring each others responses
to the spill off from the lake (like the shadow of death)
inching itself up our the driveway. A triple "NO,"
the Goddess Electric is far more desirable.

I Bare My Soul

I found my heart
in desert country
In place desired
neath spiraling heavens,
we became acquainted again.

Like spiraling arms
of dancing, giant squid,
like liquid sing
of courting whales,
the desert country
by sea once covered,
I found the place upon a cliff.

I bare my soul, Professor Norbis,
you, Knight Errant, of The 1001 Arabian nights.
In Tucson, you help me unload the station wagon.
Far from the markets of Istanbul, here in desert country,
I have the space to give to you anew.

To rid myself, at last, of excess
carried from as far away as Casablanca.
Before then, Haifa.
Before, then, God knows where
the wanderings of a Sephardi

I, the anglicized Yasmin,
the proper speaking Abigail,
bares the soul.
Friendship to the O. Norbis.
The trunk,
its contents
to the Salvation Army.

Simple 35

Think simple
eat simple
live simple

Nothing is more complicated than arriving at simple
nothing more simple that exiting complicated

Simple is foolish
Simple is genius
Simple is simply simple

Dark Horse

This filly's an unknown. Today, no more.
She'll break the gate, and leave in dust
the favorite bets far behind.

Thus, her dark horse status churns,
the horse and jockey, the gamblers did not see.
The dark horse, yes, sometimes wins.

Wolves and Sheepskins

Man is born naked
and dies wearing a suit

Lawyers in law suits
Judges made naked by Truth

Farewell

Following the autopsy,
Fred's 6 foot 3 frame
was neatly folded and packaged.

Like a note attached to a gift of roses,
a similar posting was inserted into the stiff's
shirt pocket: "Fibb, we love you and we'll miss you."

Andrew and his present partner
then watched hand in hand,
as the coffin rolled into the oven.

Simple 34

I will be the first to admit
I merely convey the messages of others
and have chosen poetry
as the envelope

Such As This

Russell Strokes was having a bad year the Wednesday
he looked out the window of his third floor, Amsterdam Avenue apartment,

and caught sight of Peter Lu on the street below. Peter Lu,
Owner and Manager of Quik 4 U Laundry and Dry Cleaning.

Through the glass pane, Strokes shouted: "Hey you stinking, goddamn Chink,
you're putting too much starch in my underwears."

In the company of wife and children, Mr. Lu conveniently ignored the insult.
Furthermore, he recognized the voice as that of a regular pain in customer relations.

Strokes kept on ranting, when suddenly Lu felt an arm
three stories' length, lock onto his right shoulder blade.

Alright, already, stick and stones may break my bones.
Words shall never harm me, but don't dream of ever threatening my family.

Lu was about to apply a Shogun thumb to the aggressor's thorax,
which would have been severely disabling, especially, to one so filled with smoke and trash.

What occurred next was as unexpected as it was unsightly.
Stokes mysteriously fell out the window of his third floor Amsterdam apartment,

and on impact, his skull separated terribly into yolk and severed pieces.
Such is the fate of violence unwelcome and unjustified.

Abigail's Barometer

Upstairs, she starts the painting turquoise,
and at the bottom pencils in a murky bog.

You can say that Abigail deals with pigment,
talking to them as if they're resurrected memories.

For magenta, she dips into the hat box
where she keeps her tubes and carving knives

those used for cutting turnips,
those for cheating hearts.

In Prussian blue she paints the bonnet,
she lost at 17, and could have no way of guessing

how in mish-mash art it would turn up again.
So, too,the lying lips she's pickled in a cellar jar.

You can say the lady has her lucid moments.
As vanes that respond to systems, it depends on the weather.

Such the case of wayward Vertle, who on a gray November day,
with slight of hand, she spiked his drink and in the bog had him buried.

Old Theme

Born naked,
dies clothed

The evolutionist claims
we once had tails

The adolescent finds hard to hide
an unsightly erection which fades by and by

Simple 33

Without timidity speak boldly to yourself
Don't mind those curious onlookers

It's obvious to them, that you're talking to the invisible
Be glad that you're not back in the Inquisition

Who doesn't like it, let them suck on lemons.
But by all means, Abigail, keep the murmurings confidential

Surrender

Never saw a sky I didn't wanna stroke.
Never saw a moon I wouldn't wanna lick,
or in the absence of licking,
never saw a moon I wouldn't wanna kick...
lovingly, of course, wanna kick.

I'm admittedly a pushover for pretty,
a hapless romantic,
hopelessly outdated.
What to do, oh what to do...

Surrender to the moment, sucker.
for it, too, shall past
as it is written.

Nobody Knows The Troubles I've Seen

I have a question,
does love thy neighbor as thyself
apply to neighbors who are in the midst of ethnic cleansing?

Raping our sisters
our daughters and mothers
butchering every male they can find?

I'm a purist, so I say
Yes, love they neighbor
does apply even in such dire circumstances.

Therefore, I pray send us tons of ammo and high powered rifles,
that we may exorcise these demons who have taken possession
of our poor and otherwise lovable neighbors.

Nobody knows the trouble
I've seen,
but Jesus.

Coal Miners' Sundays

Smoke climbs the rafters
through the industrial skeletons
and out leaky, homestead roofs.
Fog hugs the ridges
where memory buries contrition,
and bells peel hollow truths.

A whistle's blow ends the night shift.
Friday lapses into Saturday.
Another Sunday happens.
Preacher Man clears his throat.
We all join in on cue.

The croaky ones,
and little ones,
the chronic coughing ones
and those flat tonal deaf.
Amazing Grace
Appalachian style

Don't Fall for The Big Lie

Be not deceived,
you are the center of the universe,
at least the center of your own.
Everything you know or will ever know
connects through you-know-who.
You, of course. Who else!

You are the center,
triangular and imponderable,
the peg hole in your square.
You are,
you r,
u really arrr.

---But what about love?
What about love?
Before you knew the term existed
you perceived its charge and discharge
---Ain't that a bit cynical?
Let me tell you something:

I'm an atheist,
We atheists are scientific minded.
You can't prove,
we just don't buy.
Especially, we don't believe
in you-know-who.

The Earl of Weehawken

Learn from the lioness
who does not chase will nilly
gazelles all over Africa,
but waits instead the wobbly cow
to down and fillet it pretty

I know a cat in Weehawken
with a knack for timing Wall Street.
I ses to him; How do you do it?
He replies; I've incurred many a screw-up.

And with that, he does not say another word
After three minutes of vacuum between us,
I break the ice; So what are you saying, Earl?
He whispers as if betraying secrets of state:
"It takes a lot of soul searching to get it right."

Her Father's Seventh Daughter

Esteem the cool shade and place of quiet study
the privacy of our secret dwelling
where intruders do not enter
the hidden sanctuary of introspection
the high ground of our gossip

Learn from the spider
Learn from focused labor
Learn from the monitoring of movement

Learn from the cat of when she crouches,
seems to me from granite fashioned.

Hair to Match The Wardrobe

With a sub zero blast out of Minneapolis,
the new Ice Age commences,
which is why Channel 5 hired me
to keep you stitched to your sofas
while you await the prime time sit com

I am the forecaster of mercurial weather
the kiss of which is presently icing
the whole of Honduras

We're coming at you, live with Super Dobbler radar.
Better put on your wet suit.
There's a hurricane blowing in from Missouri.

Train Poem

My train arrives on time during the month of January
In February, however, it's five cars short ---
wouldn't you know it.
In March, the same. Grin and uck it.
Five cars short in the height of July,
will make for sweaty claustrophobia, then.

In April, the train leaves homeward bound, 5 cars short,
a fat momma sitting snugly by my window,
A whopper and ten pounds of french fries on her lap,
Twelve more years of this before I retire at 69.
And that's a mighty "if"--- if I don't push till I'm 87.

Five cars short repeats in May
Cottonwoods late in blooming
It's getting hotter by the mile
Two more stops and it'll be 2012
Yep, you got that right, I am tripping!

Eleven more years to go,
and back to Tennessee,
mint juleps and hanging out with the boys
You're right ---
I ought to quit right now
while there's still time