when will we cry?


when we will cry then?
preparation H for the eyes
gnash gnash little teeth
when you feel our sorrow
and we feel yours


we’re all dead now
come and gone
now we’re all believers
hell is an earthbound thing.

waltz me around again Charlie
ave ola Maria
Joey caught a ten-pounder
grandma no longer
in her ol’ rockin’ chair

look! this looks like earth!
flowers turning
hearts blooming
children laughing
war is never more!

cry for joy!

Autumn Equinox


sweet Jehovah get outta my way
i’m bound for glory land
where inhuman thoughts
are not thought, spoken or acted
out out
guilt throwing monger
it’s Autumn in New York
and in my heart
my little devil
(no relation to Satan)

he is my sunshine
she is my daisy
they are the dancing hordes
we are the flowers fading

it was a very good day/life
tho we suffered thru insanity
to salvaged our humanity
of thee we sing…

a daisy a day
a thousand heart beats
peace in the valley
of little children
all happy

thanks and praises Autumn,
of summer love

we are they hurting

we suffer for our sanity
they took away humanity
and sent us off to war

tabooing sexuality
creating bestiality
via political religions

uppers downers
sleepers laughers
soma for the masses

they wouldn’t listen
they won’t hear us now
still they mark our everyword

someday they will

hear flowers crying
feel birds no longer flying
see stones walking away

they will
want us
to be

welcome home

religious hooks that last a lifetime


even after 40 years of rejecting
Mr. Pope et al black lies they create
with black magic via
incense, candles, bells, mantras
those they lose in the daytime
are visited in their dreams…

dreams become nightmares
my own was visited by
extreme emergency:
hundreds of babies were dying
quickly i bundled them
(not time to sort the live from dead)
took them to a safe place
time being the essence
they were fastly sorted

i told a found helper
to order hundreds of binkies
took the first viable one i found
to a safe place
gave the precious a binkie
and returned to sort out the rest
the rest were in little packages
not quite humanoid
most not viable, some maybe
not having the skills to know
they were handed to those that do
and i walked away hoping
they would euthanize the not viable
not knowing, the same as
if a nonviable fetus feels pain

and i awoke
of the brainless emotional imbeciles
who want control of women’s choices
at Mr. Pope et al black lies they create

you can tell me my dreams are my dreams
and there’s no such thing as black magic
at least
and after all these years
the incense, candles, bells, and mantras
are mine
with my own intentions
of focus
in my own spiritual awareness

you can tell me my dreams are my dreams
and it would behoove me
to focus
before i lay my head a’bed

Fiddle Sticks


they were so hot they parted
and took
another train

Irene Maria
Sally Jo and Tim
waltz me around again Charlie
gonna take another walk downtown

he left
on a freight train
she left
on a jet plane

from rocks in lips to botox
(ya don’t wanna know what that means)
oh my good god goddess merry christmas
or make up you’re own if it makes you laugh
like i just did.

4th of july celebration
was cowboy breakfast
music in the park and picnics
ending all together
either in or watching a parade

Cinco de Mayo celebration
ended with blocked street
for dancing
and every Sunday evening
a giant heart would sing,
“Take another little piece of my heart babe.”

good night, good night, good night,
my love,
i’ll see
my dream

pen-chant cant chant, or can it?

i had every intention
to stop scribbling
oh but these hands
they don’t listen
or why one before me
walked the streets
writing so fast it could not be read
one sheet after another then
tossing it over her shoulder

they always pull out a patsy Josè
(sometimes Maria)
Rick Parry the executor
gets applause
I hate cancer
teabag or killer
tiger o balm
tiger tea
tea killer
how do you spell GOP?
What do you get
when you fall in love
with money
and power
or the final hour?
nightmare in the daylight

don’t talk/don’t touch
coming to your local theatre

how do you spell heaven without a home
how do you watch the sun go down
and not know you might not see another

you are i and grass is green
don’t bother to write
we both in jail
jail with no walls for human kind
now and then visits do us good
there is joy in Mudville

even here your thin voice reaches me


thin golden thread is spun
carrying concerns
daughter to mother
the vigil set
candle lit
your father this time
weak and needy?
perhaps a son with broken heart?
an old man fearing his departure?
o remember
the symbol of folding hands
is a bow between humans’
recognition of the divine
in human form
gossamer the thread
with unbreakable strength
enough to bring you home
when, daughter,
you are ready

kind human kind

every morning we wake up
willing or not we get up
having survived
previous days
of pain
of grief
of broken hearts
a little joy fun
if we be happy
when we can

ever growing
lists of mantras
done me wrong songs
forever rewritten
of course from both sides
now what’s not to expect?

every evening we fall asleep
one full swoop
or bits and pieces
was this day our last?
or this sleep?

how we survive
arise, live, love
let go or not
of slings and arrows
is where peace lives
or not
share us this day
our daily bread
and lead us into the land
of human kindness

i will be missing you when i’m gone

not that i know when i’m leaving
or even if you’ve already gone
it’s just kinda
tonight as this day ends
i’ve been day dreaming
about one last camping trip
mostly about a campfire
somebody playing a guitar
and once again i am
closing my eyes but they won’t
stay that way they know
there are a zillion stars out tonight
i just can’t get enough seein’ ’em
and these eyes
they open
it might be morning

got coffee?