Jalapeno Pepper Blog

fall softly sweet jasmine
released from rooted home
i’m sorry some nursery person
potted you from your nature
happy you somehow ended
in the middle of my living room
named in honor and as a go-between
my thoughts to my dis-incarnate loved
one who suffered thru his path as long
as he was humanly able
thank you for the effort to say goodbye
never knowing
i’ve been there and it is hard and yes
we all let go of everything somewhere
down some time line
letting go the pain goes too
then what is left is hope
to see you again…

{.,}

one night escape
from herstory memories
history awash in salt and sugar

the children awaken still hungry
mother’s milk aborted to
inefficiencies

damn you God of Gods
allowing rest for the wicked
ignorant in their opulence

what qualifies American poverty?
$127 per month discretionary
one shot of tequila, one Ambien

the Seer said, “Own your pain.”
the Finder replied,
“All pain is our own.”

one more lamentation
one more day to face
one more night

he wants straight arrow
she wants chaos
do you remember their names?

he wants her soul with
the promise to give it back
she says, “you first”

come laugh with me
clown if you dare do
not wear grass slippers
when dancing in the dew

The clergy
who drum into their congregations
litanies that have no bond
with common speech
have begun to worry me as well.

Until my life began to move
across the hill and down
I was unaware that God
was such a complicated man.
He was never Latin to me
nor Sanskrit till translation.

I want a man
that I can understand
to govern me,
for I need love
and understanding too.
And so I hope that God the friend
and not the father
will come banging on my door.

for your old dad and his dad
and all the dads corporations fired
when they refused to be a yes man
or grew old and near retirement
and somebody wrote
“The Death of A Salesman”
i cried for those that refused
to surrender, that stood
met their obligations
food, shelter
wife and children
held no countenance with bitterness
stuffed their pain
stuffed their disappointment
having been led by Sir Corporation
to believe they were one big family
they did what was needed
and a little extra
for this they were downsized/axed

dear dear dads
need not another tie
or another Father’s Day
they need what they have earn
kindness and cheerful times
as many days of the year as
we can remember.

{..}

liquid heart
pawnbroker’s ink
defeated flower
hear the head blow
ill-will reflecting
owner’s image

has all been said
not yet dead?
can’t take garbage
when crossing veil
here it does await
another returning

does not matter
“is this all there is?”
each and every
joy added to the world
returns in measure
to liquid heart

a whistling Dixie
ya ain’t
we all got a pair
ah noiya or oughta

a mess to clean
dot by dot
or byte by byte
here we go…….

a big yesterday
is still a yesterday
now is now and now and then
we all have some regret

now is a good time to come to the aid
of ourselves
of others
of that which sustains us
this Earth
this Water
this Air
our Sun, the Fire

heavy hanging over head
i’m sleep are you?
that’s two of us don’t tell
one banish
is more than enough.

white light mind he would know
outlive the pain and tragedy of show
no one ever knows the end
of any path chosen till it does
is this the end or
how many ends in one life time
might heaven allow?
mental healing there are no scars
but pain as long as held
look away Dixie land you know the drill
in 1956 our country turned
to in god we trust
from E pluribus unum
i pause
a memory
blue lighter
the game
of planting a place
a time
our smile.
the end

tell him how you were brainwashed
over and over again
by your leaders demonizing him
and his
and
your sorrow runs deep
deep as your blood and his

let her wake up in the morning smelling peace
seeing military bases turned into
producing green
Earth Green and friendly

count the number of ways they’ve divided us
your leaders and ours
after we’re sorry
don’t take it anymore

oh pray we evolve
from kill or be killed
from
might makes us right

might we now begin
to compete with creative ideas
instead of blood
we are all #1
or nobody is #1

bring it on home, summer
it’s only a heart beat away
and three weeks.

has she been out too long
does she know your work
with weapons of kill
did you hear my curse break
yacking as you were
to reporters
as seen on C-SPAN
this very moment
did you feel my queasy
explosion of
how could you!
how could my fellow Americans
stomach your expounding
proudly
new war toys
good ol’ American Enterprise sucking
at only age 58
i reckon you’re not reckoning
yet
St. Peter’s golden gate mirror
where the REAL Aston B. Carter
can not escape seeing his true self,
nor will his mother.