Category Archives: dreams

33

The wind’s whispers are drown out

by screams and shouts

broken dreams, no doubt seem

the end is near

awash with tears

and years and years will pass you by

what dreams did come abruptly die

and cry and sing farewell to pain

and dance and stumble in acid rain

all that remain now rot and rust

ashes to ashes

and dust to dust

and winds blow truth from dying tongues

but void of proof

with smoke filled lungs

and coffee black

and crack the code

and heart attack and gravel road

we found Tom Joad all out of breath

the preacher man led him to meth

but Jesus freaks don’t speak for him

they leave him hanging from a limb

with nails and pails to catch the wine

heres silver coins, pay Caesar’s fine

we burn the flesh and worship dust

who is this God in whom we trust?

We lust for treasures, fortune, fame

we’ve broken rules of every game

and its a shame we cannot see

that we all hang from the same tree.

 

Roman legionnaires are we,

shouting ‘freedom isn’t free’.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mountains & Oceans

The weight starts adding up

the moment the lights go out

and dreamland arrives,

the weight piles up

minute by minute

hour by hour

pound by pound,

until around the time

the sun rises

until around the time

the roosters start to crow

it feels like a mountain

it feels like an ocean

it feels like the universe

holding you down

crushing your body

crushing your spirit

crushing your will to…

will you just get up already!!!

and its already 7…

and its already 8…

and you’re already late

but can’t lift the weight

wish this mountain would crumble

so at least you could try

to stumble out from the darkness

but there’s no lifeline

you’re all alone in this coal mine

eating dead canaries

trying not to starve

using broken bones to carve

love letters to dead sinners

but the saints will eat

our hearts for dinner

lets load coal in carts

and hope it starts

to burn

Ash Wednesday comes

our stomachs start to churn

start to crave blood-red wine

and midnight walks with Patsy Cline

and a gallon of moonshine

and a fine pine box

now it’s too late for TED Talks

and the doves are dying

to be hawks

and one fish,

two fish,

red, white, and blue fish

and cable or dish

and tossing coins

pollutes the well

I wish I weren’t here

you’ll see me in swells

get swept away

hell or high water

drown any day

will grandma still pray

and will the cows still lay down

when it rains

will the fresh white paint

hide the stains

will the sweet red wine

clog the drains

plant sugarcane

to sweeten the deal

sell liquor and coke

theres mass appeal

all mirrors and smoke

and polished steel

and bullets and pullets

and brooding hens

and methlabs and rehab

and a blurry lens

looking back on history

wash it clean like Listerine

and what’s it mean

red hands seem clean

when oils like water,

how can we ween?

and have you seen the mountains

of bones and dreams denied

and oceans filled

with all the tears

a billion eyes have cried

the universe has endless love

but all they preach is hate

while blind men start to argue

the elephant storms the gate

she ran away from the circus

too many lions and stale bread

the tightrope snapped

the jester clapped

the prophets left for dead

and now red, white, and blue

form puddles on the floor

since mountains grow

and oceans flow,

leave flowers at the door.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

dream

pesants toil

in the yard

the poet argues

with the bard

sing praises of

distinguished men

but wasting breath

and ink from pen

write self-fulfilling

prophecy

pulled the plug out

from the dream

youthful sins

ingrained in stone

years gone by

cannot atone

so look for God

at waters edge

poor Juliet,

I drove a wedge

bewteen what dreams

just might have come

and chains of guilt

and gallons of rum

and some day I

might understand

how nothing came

from all our plans

still flames are fanned

and embers burn

loved ones lost

and lessons learned

youth turning into

middle age

the sage, she dances

from the cage

and pages turn

and fall away

words are lost

I cannot say

I pray that I find

time to write

but out of mind

and losing sight

and visions blur

and dreamlands die

no use is left

in getting high

and crying rivers

flow both ways

the hour glass breaks

counting days

and years and decades

turn to sand

this and that

go hand in hand

and standing in

a distant dream

the doves they cry

as vultures scream

and sun beams burn

a heart so pale

a broken wing

a wounded tail

and sail around

and drowning still

no liferaft thrown

no written will

pill bottles emptied

in the fire

the flames they grow

higher and higher

and higher still

they touch the sky

until rain falls

when God,

she cries

the ink runs out

the pen bereft

the jester laughs

another theft

and left

right

leaving

tales untold

keep the diamonds

keep the gold

an old man looks

for what he lost

the prophets profit

the old man lost

his mind when he found

pages blank

himself, the only one

to thank

for dreams defered

and love denyed

he drowns now

by the river side

 

 

 

 

 

chicken-scratch

old noteboks fill boxes

in a cold New England basement

with chicken-scratch poetry

from a time of insanity

and its aftermath

you know, stories about

taking the wrong path

about drowning

and letting go

of the precious life raft.

Nightmares have eased

but some ghosts linger

the man in the mirror

still pointing a finger

8 years a blur

shaken

and stirred

exams taken

and papers written

but lessons learned

too late

must fate be?

blind men saw

better than me

-scratch-

-scratch-

angry and afraid

-scratch-

-scratch-

my bed was made

-scratch-

-scratch-

alone and forsaken

by only myself

notebooks moved

from bookshelves

to boxes

alone only

in my mind

must I be a martyr?

time after

and after

the dust settled

it was too late

thought I’d figure

my shit out

and out run fate

-scratch-

-scratch-

too fast

too late

lonely

-scratch-

cheap dates

on Dot Ave

with only god knows

-scratch-

depressed,

writing A papers

on Dunkin

and NoDoz

-scratch-

and life goes on

-scratch-

and so it goes…

-scratch-

and so fall fell

away

and it was too late

and fuck fate

and I

-scratch-

cried

because I

lied

to myself

-scratch-

and grandma

moved those notebooks

-scratch-

from the dusty bookshelf

and they sit

in a box

and I try to forget

but some things

you can’t lock

away

and some things

you don’t want to

-scratch-

and sometimes

you read a page

or two

once every year

or two

and get chills

and sometimes

you read something else

and get chills

-scratch-

and sometimes

you wonder…

-scratch-

scared to death

in Babylon

and something

-scratch-

got you through

something…

-scratch-

kept you from the ledge

of the old Ba’ath party building

on the bad days,

eight stories up

something…

brought you home

-scratch-

and something

-scratch-

and someone…

made you happy

and someone cared

and someone loved you

and you loved someone

but didn’t dare

stay happy

didn’t deserve

couldn’t deserve

wanted to deserve

-did deserve-

but couldn’t deserve…

-scratch-

and pages turned

-scratch-

and chapters fell away

-scratch-

and new chapters started

-scratch-

and ended

-scratch-

and the cheap paper fades

and the memories fade

and black hair slowly

fades

to gray

and I can’t stay

-scratch-

I have somewhere to be…

and I’m always running

but never can find

-scratch-

sanity

and the poetry helps

-scratch-

-scratch-

and time helps

-scratch-

there are too many

lessons learned

from too many

mistakes made

-scratch-

and it kills me

that I wasn’t

the only one 

footing the bill

when the price

was paid

-scratch-

and I’m not running now

but Christ,

my feet itch

-scratch-

and what if

I stayed?

-scratch-

and what if

I stay now?

-scratch-

I sort of know how

and it seems easy

but the demons

always come back

-scratch-

they never fucking leave

-scratch-

and the booze and cigs

are a year gone

and every day

theres a new dawn

-scratch-

but the demons come back

and the angels are gone

and the angle is wrong

and the wagons lonely

but I won’t fall off

and these chicken-scratch poems

will be lost in a notebook

and put in a box

and burned when I die

and I hope no one reads it

I don’t want them to cry

but I’ll try

and I’ll try

-scratch-

to keep hanging on

to the farm

and this life

to my dogs

and my wife

-scratch-

to this pen

and this memory

that I’ll never forget

it’s a catch-22

but of course I regret…

-scratch-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ala Moana

Looking down

at the street below

from this 14th floor

hotel window

I see the sidewalk

where my family sleeps

if God is real

I hope it weeps

for what society

has become

we don’t see our sister

just another bum.

 

Her heart was broken

soul almost dead

she needs more

than just some bread…

She needs a friend

she needs a brother

she needs family

when she asked me

for some change

I saw humanity.

 

So I changed my destination

from the local jazz club

to the ABC store

to buy her some grub

and as she ate a turkey sandwich

a tear came to her eye

she stared at me a minute

and then asked me why?

 

“I see my wife, sister, and mother

when I look at you

and all these people passing by

would stop

if they only knew

how much you’re hurting

how much you need a friend

take one step at a time

you’re heart will start to mend

bend but do not break

and take a look around

you were forsaken and alone

but sister, you’ve been found”

 

And I’m drowning in the silence

in between her words

spread your wings and fly, sister

just like the birds.

You’re a goddess

you’re Ohana

I just wish you knew

imagine heaven and you’ll have it

soon, your pain will be through.

You are not a bad person

but life dealt you a bad hand

in solidarity with you, sister

right here I’ll stand.

Standing Rock

20160923_121950

Standing on this rock

all alone

looking glass shattered

can’t find home

can’t escape sticks

and stones thrown

by a falling Rome

names don’t hurt

when Redskins flirt

with victory

the Missouri doesn’t flow

to the sea

it flows through you

and me

don’t close your heart

or bury your eyes

need you to see

through lies

they dig treasure

buried

like Fort Knox

it should remain locked

and rock

paper

scissors

they’ll cut off

our feet

so we can’t stand

but they want us

to salute

while they shoot

our mother

in the back

rape her dying body

and blame it on Iraq

and blame it all on black

rigging the roulette wheel

impovershed kids deal

but Uncle Sam still cooks

the crack

and he still looks

like dad

so we think

he can’t possibly be

this bad

but have you seen

what he’s done

to Baghdad?

and Oklahoma shakes

but the cowboys are glad

to have those jobs,

right?

and we drive our cars

and we leave on the light

all night

because we’re afraid

of boogeymen

and we ain’t got healthcare

or a nickel to lend

and we stay up nights

fighting with spouses

in our shitty clapboard

bank-owned houses

while the cat

chases mice

and our kids

all have lice

and wouldn’t it be nice

if we weren’t playing dice

with the planet

polluting the water

that we need for life

we’re cutting

our mother’s heart out

with a knife

made in China

and bought at a Walmart

in North Carolina

and will Kaepernick kneel

at the Panthers game

and will the results

all be the same

if he speaks about war

and about mother earth

will we say ‘just play ball’

will we cite his net worth?

as if that should negate

the things that he says,

will he take a stand

for those stuck on the rez

and if he does

will the team let him go

and will you speak up

before the oil flows

as the crows cry out

for what they have seen

or will you check your stocks

and count your green

and post a meme

about right

and wrong

or will you numb

your conscience

and sing along?

Fall starts today

but winter is coming

if you take two of these

it should help with

the numbing…

Decade & a Half Much Like The Rest

The military industry has won

year after year after year

after years

it’s just reruns

war is certainly here to stay

and we just blew up

a Syrian army base

without a trace of remorse

and of course

no one has to pay

and we have to stay the course

though the same day

ISIS rolled right in

and captured the burning embers

and now nobody remembers

the ashes and dust

and rubble

that we left on top of Doctors

Without Borders

see, nobody gets in trouble

just following orders

and it’s the same old song

but just the same,

we were wrong

all along

and we still are

and I drive a fast car

got a needle in my arm

can’t get very far

without a fix

and oil and water

don’t mix

and Uncle Sam will screw you

while you’re looking the other way

and the Sioux lose

and we all pay

and amazing grace will play

as they hand your mom a flag

and we dance around your grave

you were a good brave

but you gave your life

for the crown

pledged your allegiance,

stood for the anthem

then they carried you away

and threw you in the ground

oh, say

Jose

bottle of Rosé

lets have another round

stay drunk

and high

and soon enough

you’ll die

no need to cry

their greed relies

and the eagle flies

through polluted skies

so dry

the fire spreads

soon, we’ll all be dead

and they break our bones

for bread

that they don’t need

and will never eat

and we’re sitting

speechless

denying defeat

lying to ourselves

that the system can save us

though we all see the clowns

that this system gave us

and we all hope and pray

for a brighter day

and we all stay drunk

as we look away

from the cities and towns

that our taxes burned down

now theres oil beneath

ancient burial mounds

and we still pay our taxes

like good little kids

saying shame on Kaepernick

for what he did

but the truth was hidden

all along

slavery ingrained

in a patriotic song

and woven right into

the fabric of the flag

trust in fairy tales

and in body bags

and God save the system

your prophets are dead

say your prayers, little darlings

before going to bed

just know in your hearts

you can sleep soundly

we are killing brown people

so that you can be free

from the burden

of doing it yourself

thank God Professor Zinn’s books

are not on your shelf

God forbid that you question

even part of this script,

just go back to the doctor

have him fill all your scripts

and remember, my darlings

that these pills are good

and remember to focus

on Hollywood

and on Football

and pop singers

and on Dancing Stars

think not about war

while you drive your fast car

with your finger on the trigger

and that needle in your arm

and keep paying your taxes

or we’ll take grandpa’s farm.

It’s been a decade

and a half

much like the rest

stop luring kids with candy

that you’ll stick on their chest

when they die

and moms cry

it has long been the same

forget taking a knee

lets just sit out the game.