Let The Blind See (after all It’s one of his miracles)

What blindness god bestows,
on such a stupid race as mine.
No light from this man glows,
still they swallow every line.

Can none but your sinners see,
how false and greedy is his house.
How much better life would be,
if his enlightenment we’d douse.

There’s no fairness off vicar or priest,
when they pass out his goodwill.
Political wealth controls his beast,
while a poor man’s life stands still.

The scenery blusters by up close
and in the distance, the hills are but walls
and neither adds nor subtracts from anticipation.

The destination always receives “top billing”
however, commaderie with one’s companions…
and the destination pale in it’s comparison to, the journey.

Color my eyes with landscapes a plenty…
buffer my personality with yours,
and let’s augment the wait and duration with that of a kaleidoscope;

for we, and we alone own the hours,
our moments in waiting
to arrive “fresh”, into the future.

okay then divorce!

having studied humanity across the internet, and world,
I have come to just a single observation
on divorce….
women want as much independence as men
at times they are better too,
but men can't take it down lying
so to say,
thus they their spouses way lay….

more than the ego bash
which enforces clash
it’s the construction of the human form…
they say by divine….

women get convulsions owing to hormones,
while men having two heads
listen to just one, the lower

I am a powerless pawn
In a dangerous game
I am only a victim,
With no reason or name
I am his captive
He holds my fate
My future looks bleak
As he closes the gate
No one can see this
No one but me
My bonds are invisible
They think I am free
But loving him
Is not a choice
It’s demand on my heart
It strangles my voice
I live in terror
I fear the worst
And although he assures me
That I’ll never be hurt
I don’t believe him
He’s said this before

dead cigarette poised on the window
the brass dirty latch
There are stars hoisted
on the rusty chains of sin
and a Radio station
hisses faint music
through a missing tooth

crave through me sultry
wire
this damned winter desire
cascades boldly slowly
past the windows tall
and aged

nice little town you've got here

...too fucking nice!

something's off
hinky
wrong

a league of live large liars,
deep under glossy lawyered cover-ups,
splashing white picket defences
with thick slick ivy veiling elocution

chambers of societies,
(those good ol' boys of legend),
siccing macho maddened
barrel bottom mercenaries
on any, and all, interlopers
of their Private America

a dreamtown
van winkled
refusing to come of age

SEX AT EIGHTY TWO
WILL DO! .....................some one said it....

at your age
you'd love to hear ...
nothing but lies
as you lie trapped
between lifeless thighs

but glad you do
when as grand fathers
mostly abandon...
they think they all are done

you have the verve
and
nerve,
to think twill still rise
it’s a surmise

at eighty-two something...
all say none can do ...

glad you hope to..
soon dad,
grand one I shall join you...

Madmen, seers, and fools [2]

In the light of night
I saw angels play
and daemons bay
at the moon
wonders of a madman’s dream
or eyes of a seer or fool
piercing through
into
galaxies of the mind

The May crown lay torn
imperfect ring
like thorns
on innocent whore heads

Did she think she wouldn't
be found
in thickets of green?

But you knew where
she lay
the girl-woman who
strayed
too close to
your dirty secrets
the bird-watching
hides
morn the spectacle
human horseplay
and carnal cavorting

and so you silenced
her
she'll not gossip
but where will
she sit now
she's making friends
with the worms?

I'm back. I'll pack my pains and ails,
my tears and wails
I'll pack them all,
with aches that bawl.

I'm back with suns, I'm back with moons,
with stars won't swoon.
I'm back with smiles
that last for whiles.

I'm back. No doubts, no cries, or tears
Nor ounce of fears
but trust and care
with much to share.