Anxiety (Poem)

Does she hate me?

Does he hate me?

Do they hate me?

I fumbled my speech lightly.

Too many digressions.

Too many interjections.

Too many tonal shifts.

I spoke a bit too much.

Spoke of myself too much

Spoke about him too much

Spoke about that too much

I referenced a bit too much.

Too many authors.

Too many books.

Too many philosophies.

I inserted a statement a bit out of place.

Too many uncorellation events.

Too many odd parellels.

Too many mismatched sentiments.

Why do I keep thinking on it?

Why do I keep re-playing it moment by moment,

as a song in a cd player pressed to constant repeat?


If only I could displace it for a few hours and do something else.

If only it would not keep coming back to haunt like a phantom –

cursed until it obtains its intended fulfillment.

The world thinks I am too in swirl.

The city thinks I am a being too head busy for pity.

The town thinks I am too up-and-down to keep around.

Internal Eternal Feeling (Poem)

The invisible rocketing, locking limbs

… echoing through the internal ear for all to hear,

… Perhaps hold dear.

The invisible ting, cling, hum, aria, which echoes the chaotic

symphony of the planetary chaos, or the immaterial living canvas

outside the outside, yet inside the deepest inside of being.

The spring keeping us up at late hours.

He, she, it, beyond of the beyond!

The ours or the ours! The their of the theirs! The thine of the thine! ….the internal typewriter…

musician chording out nightly, daily, weekly, yearly… eternally.

Vocal Sceam ( Poem)

Try, fly, cry, apply the stew of human bile
Time it in line with each dismal and dizzying chord
heave it , conceive it , perhaps believe it.
RUN! ….. Run your voice down….down…down the speedway.
SCREEEEEEEAM! ……………Whisper…
HONK! HONK! HONK! your talk in and out of typical tact….
Cry out everything till black out!
Let your eyes close, as you disclose each and every part of heart and brain.
….. of being …. YES! ….keep singing.
May it be tonal ….a-tonal.
Let it chorus through.

Tear (Poem)



Flows in

And out of fountains

That collect and pour

Down from cheek to chin

The faucet turns on-cue

To the sickening and passing

Of deceased mothers and fathers

Of sisters, brothers, uncles, and aunts

… Gushes with weddings, and births

… Pours with the tune of the trumpet,

Signaling the recorded, awarded

Deeds of war mown men

… moistens to drench

wrong done to us

… by us

 L.E.D. Lamentations ( poem)

L.E.D. shine bright light

Into my retina as I type.

Shine on through, though I shreak out in the evening into the morning light –

Rubbing, thumbing, eyeing, typing… grumbling my plight.

L.E.D.  though you are a pain, pal, fiend….lover

Flashing and lashing me at traditional lamp-lit hours –

With burning etchings of red-marbled patterns all over

And round my orbs till they form balls of fire lashing painful flame over many hours.

L.E.D, inspire, despite the flame, your conduction of musical orchestrations

Stess on my orbs ,as I press into the night,

Second-by-second, minute-by-minute, hour-by-hour. Yes, they lead to inspirations

As I sit, calculate and hone the tones just right.

L.E.D., as I type, I insist something must bring on a remedy

To cease the clawing and grinding.

I long for a cordial to alleviate the lashing flame so my hands could keep singing

On key to produce a worded neural melody.

L.E.D. you signal

Longings of a salve solution to be applied in drops and oozed and rounded

In soothing rhythm. A solution which lays in carefull, crafted and fastened plastic bottles –

A saltine solution to sooth as I print the pages my fingers pounded.

L.E.D I long to be filled to full-cranium-capicity

From waves of digital spells so I can continue to direct

To perfect harmony.  I wish your wisdom stores-up well –

As, I sit, type, as my hymns, gripes,  wised-up-words collect.

Everything (poem)

Everything runs and falls as it does with the energy it is given

Why is it given the energy?

This is the human task to discover.

You must look deep.


That is what our mission on earth is to do.

The mission is to appreciate the beauty on earth.

The mission is to see the wonder in it all.

Why wonder?

What else is there to do with our existence?

This is how we live our life,

Indeed, our breath to its full.


That is the reason we wake at dawn and delve into our pillow at dusk.

This is the reason why we sing… sing… sing on.


This is the reason we compose our rhyme.

Why we step in our own tunes.

This is the reason why we must step… step… step-up to discover what is in store for us.

What we are in stored with and what exactly we are to do with it?

What else can one do but to search for clues of this do we are birthed unto?

Every day we look.

Every day we wonder.

Every day we step closer

Every day we fall away .

Every day is a new beginning.

Every day is a new ending.

It opens and closes a door.

It brings light as well as darkness.

Come Ye False Prophet (poem)

Sway back and forth at pulpit,

As you trance others to sway back and forth in pew,

In and on cue with you.


And mumble your babble as you



Go and shout.

Go and foam as a rabid dog.

Steal money from the pockets of the poor.

Drench yourself in foolishness.

Drown yourself in ignorance.

Travel through the purging fire of hate.

Preach war against my fellow brother.

Preach and advertise your false medallions.

Sell your self.

Sell your lies.

Sell tapes filled with tunes abominable from strand to strand.

Record a record tracked with a trunk full of delusions.

Fiddle your fingers.

Train up your rabbits.

Prepare your cards.

Set-up the demagogic stand.

Open your aluminum-caged gate.

Open up shop.

Stack your cards.

Stuff the rabbit in the hat.

Cover your stand in bright colored cloth.

Let the crowd stroll into the shop.

See them caw and coo toward you,

As you crow your raven colored eyes

You set

You gaze upon them.




Gaze at thier pleasing gawking,

As you gargle your gob full of gab for them to gulp.

For them to masticate upon

For them to get stuck between, against, among and for them to stain their teeth upon.

Lull them in.

Lick them up a lullaby

To hum

To lull them into a daze,

Of which you can

Spin your maze

Of false

And dead ended riddles.




Oh, brutal beast too craven for an honest trade.


Oh, brutal beast head self-anointed in oderous oils.


Oh brutal beast baren of human heart beat.



Shuffle in the masses

See their feet shuffle through

See their eyes lay wide and gaze into your eye.

Eye and see what trick you can slight your hand to.

A trick they will tap their feet to.

A trick they will oggle mind to

A trick they will set in tune to.

A trick you peddle your plea upon.

A trick they will never see.

Hear the Barnum and Baily tune in your ear.

“A sucker is born every minute”

Oh, false prophet.


And vocal spearing

Seem to churn a lot of profit.

See all sell their will

To your tones.

Steal and manipulate your way

From outback woods to the steps of the Whitehouse.

Let no stone and step skip your lip smacking and lying tones.

The Alarm (poem)

Siren sound!




Sound on-and-on.

Into the night!

Send out a fleet of ambulances to carry out the warning.

Let them cry emergency.

The tyrants are coming!

The tyrants are coming!

The tyrants have come!

The tyrants are already here!

Bring out the criers!

Bring out the triers!

Where are the pamphlets?

Where is the reel?

Where is the DVD?

Where is the Hard drive?

Are the stations ready?

Are the printers set to print?

There is news!



There is danger!

There is a flood of power!

There is danger!

There is a flood of ignorance!

Nation watch!

World Watch!

Turn off the console.

See our nation’s decaying soul.

See the right-wing burn and scoff at the true flag,

While propping up the replica.

See them talk and perpetrate a pseudo patriotic America,

While they scoff at freedom, inquiry, opportunity.

Watch America!

Pay attention!

This is not just another iPhone convention!

This is not an iPad prerelease!

This is worthwhile.


Your time is now!

It’s your time to muzzle the fat cows.

It’s your time to scoff and mock the theocrats.

It is your time my fellow Patriots!

It is is your time to take it.

May We (poem)

May we continue to speak in Emerson dialect.

May we continue to speak in Whitman tonality.

May we continue to be our own and individual Tom Paine

We are Americans.

Freedom is in our blood.

Let us not remove our birthed into possessions to the Plutocrat,

To the Oligarchs,

To these so-called conservatives.

Let us sing.

Let them not bring us down

We are not their personal clown to amuse them at belated hours.

We are our own free souls set and clocked

to soar above the clouds.

We are a band.

We play our song loud.

We play our song soft.

We play the tune appropriate rhythm and pentameter.

We play it to the limit,


We play….

We play on…

We play for all…

We play the song of the multitudes.

We play their soul.

We let it lift into the air,

We let it dominate,

We let it spotlight

Through the sky.

We let it serve as a sign of a

Bright furture to come.

We let it show we,,,

We ,,,

We  will one bring our own messianic age –



And Both me.

We seek a long of peace.

We seek a land of freedom.

We seek a world we all would want to live in.

Let us continue to strive.

Let us continue fo fight the tyrant.

Let us give every inch our own strength.

Let us give every inch of our breast.

Let us…


Yes sing.

Sing long and loud into the night.

Let us choir.

Let us pronounce the syllables of truth, free speach, and harmony,

through our discontented land.