THE GREAT DIVIDE

RWP prompt #89 was to use a headline. I used the headline THE GREAT DIVIDE. We live in the Rocky Mountains with a small creek running through... down to the Columbia river then to the Pacific ocean. Other creeks run down the eastern slope of the Great Divide to the East..North and South.


THE GREAT DIVIDE

Gentle creek flowing
westward
towering Rocky Mountains above
broken ridge orange and black
where the goats
believe in the mountains
and dance
clear as a glacier ridge
pyramids of spiritual evolution
summits that view
the precise chaos of creation
a combination of emotional challenge
and physical survival
romance and beauty filling my heart
gazing at the creek
as thoughts run deep
old memories
new thoughts
forming more wisdom
then thoughts turn away for a moment
to man's eyes and hands
and his monuments of foolishness
homes with no space or heart
like caged up chickens
pecking and scratching
with broken beaks
divided
in their ideologies and fears
our home in the mountains
beside a small creek
flowing from chaos
gently
naturally
Westward
as the creeks on the other side flow
to the East North South
gently
as man divides on this dying world.

MAN IN PAIN

ReadWritePrompt #88 using all the prompt words




MAN IN PAIN


lights out
ready to rumble and BRISTLE
his hi-fi microphone
sitting on the lazer structure
with its organice DIODE on

biting his bloody lips
FROTH coming from his mouth
ready to RANT
spoon feed his faithfull listeners
with rancid ELOCUTION

ridiculing the loony left
as they HITCH-hike their free ride
FLINGING his COARSE insults
with words that COAGULATE
like RANCID butter

always preaching his SALACIOUS desires
that echo to the converted
then rushing out HOMEWARD bound
elizabeth alexander's poem on his 8-TRACK
and more oxycontin for a man in pain

hOt cOrner

H
ola, buenas dias, hell
o he replied. My name Julio. Y
ou speak english g
ood me no spanish. H
ot corner here, do you come
often? si, every m
orning to talk baseball. W
OW Im a baseball freak too like Castr
o
Orestes Minnie Minoso...you remember? si
outfielder infielder Chicago White S
OX. I watch Cuba play D
odgers in Havana in 1947. W
OW. I remember Jackie R
obinson his first season with Br
ooklyn played in that game. H
oly cow!..what you mean H
oly cow?
Oh just a saying scooter Rizzut
o use to say. Who best Cuban player? N
o problem...Marten Dihig
o. W
OW. He is in hall of fame C
ooperstown with T
ony Perez I saw at the big
O no in Montreal in 1977 with Expos. H
oly cow Julio said. We both kn
ow beezball. I scout Washington Senat
ors 1950s. H
oly cow. Pedro Ramos, Jose Valdiviels
o, Carlos Paula, Camilo Pascual, Evili
o Hernandez, you scout these? Si..W
OW, unbelievable. We could talk
old baseball all day long. Si..t
onite we meet at La Bodeguita del Medi
o where Hemmingway and the great p
oet Wallace Steven hung
out...Babe Ruth the Bambin
o drank there when in Havana t
oo. So we will drink mojit
os and talk beezball all night l
ong. Si..see you t
onite. Adios amigo.


RWP prompt 87.....vowel "O"
NOTE
Photo of me at hot corner in Havana where Cubans have PASSIONATE
discussions/argument on baseball EVERY day. Every time in Havana
I go there. Last year met this old guy and u guessed it talked
beezball. This poem reflects some of what we talked about.

JOURNEY OF TWISTED BEAUTY

Closed lips hiding behind darkness

death fresh like the last rain

finding salvation in a new language

no guilt no anger no regrets

today my seventy first birthday in the mountains

breakfast and the tart sweetness of fresh raspberries

fragrance of the new rose

looking at her wondering if love is blind.

the rumbling before the storm

twisted poetry of Ginsberg howlin and Pollack dripping

the jazz stylings of Farlenghetti

on the road again with Kerouac

painting writing loving

Dylan's the times they are a changin

Beatles and yesterday

memories some vivid some hazy

the first train and the lower birth with my mother

before she died

being Jackie Robinson diving for a ground ball

desired street car in Vancouver

leaving home for Montreal, then New York and the village

Haight Ashbury

a mystic swimming in the space of time.

............Read Write Poem prompt #86