Blog Archives

Protocol

Want to toss you from the window
Kick you on down the hall;
Totally because of another Covid Solstice,
Songs will blame you for everything and all.

Twasn’t quite all the lies
That drove me deeply into the mad,
It was lingered honeyed phony histories
That made us all go aware into the bad.

Acid lyricism beat upon ragged congas—
Tattoo played upon my head that storied eve:
Another sterling child father moment never ending,
Still now for your passing, and embrace, I still grieve.

Six feet under is the agreed protocol,
Yield thee to the last cool embrace of Death;
Whether or not you’re ready or not at all:
Lastly arrives the time to draw one’s last breath.

Don’t cry , don’t blink—
Missus Vera is buried today.
Of course I still love you;
I’m just alone and have lost my way

Puzzling

Crimson currants scatter across the plate;
The ruin of his proposition dies on his lips—
The longing and the loss go begging, too late,
As two tired hands sag draped across her hips.

While puzzled puzzling puppies whimper without reason—
Is this the sure path to the higher parish ground?
Milady, crossed, throws vexed hurt blames and accusations;
Limped, the poet crawls away to contemplate a grayer sound.

Storm warnings fall, the sun finally peeks out;
The happy and free saxman takes the stage for his solo
Another rainbow dies unlit without a Southern doubt;
Can we sixters renew old loves, is it yet the secret go slow?

Leg raisers, push-ups, and the latest anti-cholesterol drug:
Guys muster what little left they have to play her knight errant.
Girls, wriggle and giggle, and deflate their swains with another shrug;
Boys, bluster and muster, try to achieve the ultimate, yet can’t.

Why is Love so hard to find and put softly in a peaceful space?
Why must Time dry up all dreams along with such a lovely face?

Only Twelve

I just cannot comprehend—
Lost between the difference and the subtrahend:
I stand blocked by the Police Tape,
My 12-year old angel is in cuffs
And I must be to blame.
A middling school in LA:
She shot one in the head and grazed the others,
But we were going to Krispy Kreme.
Now I can’t afford a lawyer,
Maybe the family can help,
No dreamers here
And my own dreams for her are all gone.
She is just only a girl, she’s 12?!
She took the gun to school—
Where can I go to rip out her pain?
What did I miss between Snapchat
And her friends on her iphone?
It’s all my fault still and again and again;
Thoughts of suicide,
Thoughts of murder.
Walls of Police Tape:
Who would want to cross
And dwell inside the real true horror?
Was I not listening?
What was it I could not see?
I love my kid,
Undeniably,
She’s only 12….

As of 8:30PM CST:
Breaking News – Story Developing
Los Angeles police say middle school shooting that critically wounded boy was accidental
Feb 01, 2018
Geez, I sure hope so! That it was deliberate is too awful to contemplate!