art music poetry

there are four things you need
in order to learn to write
eight million six thousand and three
pencils
and
one
pencil sharpener
seven hundred trees
made into paper
and
one
big
garbage
can

***

ode to a fish headed fool

seventeen and shaving you stood before the faded mirror that only
showed parts of through its dim interior
shaving with a hunting knife, it sounded like
you were dragging the blade up the ragged muscles of your spine

your young voice drags to me over the years. “Jackson” you said,
“I done had every daughter the man got. His wife keeps gettin’
me aside to come over when he’s not home.”

***

ode to a right hand

leader of the body, tool carrier
ass scratcher, money counter, cat
scratcher, a thousand names and
all true, attached to a right handed fool

this ode led to you across the keys

***

Enchanted Flames

soft blankets of white shroud umblemished infants
insincere, untouched, out of reach
pining, pining along a trail
a wilderness of lost souls

beyond the distance, a sparkle twitches
mocks the onlooking moon with graceful steps
Lord, awaken me from this hideous slumber
that I may look upon these foolish games of sensuous pride

I prayed for light
and the world paused

these soft, mad children dance to the mockery of a song unheard
I too dance
not to music but to a melody
a chariot of bronze mares
swaying to a tune
a gift
a love

***

Death and a Cup of Joe

“when rainclouds speak no more
through the Autumn of the sea”
recites death while
sitting on his pedestal and sipping warm cappucino

prince
he thinks
or maybe I’m a jester, with
no king and
no court

eyes seeking
searching his soul from beyond the
gaseous nicotine, beyond the
dark realms of jaded spotlight

a mournful hope or a
simple prayer

avoid his wicked grasp

hold tight to your masques, he says
it’ll be OK.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
***