RWP#115..
BELIEVING NOT KNOWING
believing to be washed away
to some unknown place
not knowing if my robes
will be clean or dry
believing there will be poets
in their solitude
not knowing if there will be angels
that make me cry
believing to have insight
into some sacred mind
not knowing if the journey
will be covered in gold
believing it will be a pure land
of sober drunks
not knowing their language
of stories never told
believing the air will be pierced
with beauty and jazz
not knowing if the notes
will be felt or heard
believing Satchmo will blow his horn
along Bourbon towards Boogie street
not knowing if it will be birdland
or the land of absurd
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
HOME
(using one of the words from prompt..red) this is a draft
HOME
looking through the eyes
of yesterdays perceptions
beyond forgotten places
there was a sea of red
above some flooding torrent
of endless tomorows
in this disenchanted place
I once knew as home
now tarnished like a bronze arrow
after centuries of rusting salt
my head keeps sailing
towards some crackling winter storm
tomorrow I will awake
before the ancient dawn
touching the universe with my fingertips
standing still watching the stars
gathering silence with simplicity
listening to the distant dolphins at home
HOME
looking through the eyes
of yesterdays perceptions
beyond forgotten places
there was a sea of red
above some flooding torrent
of endless tomorows
in this disenchanted place
I once knew as home
now tarnished like a bronze arrow
after centuries of rusting salt
my head keeps sailing
towards some crackling winter storm
tomorrow I will awake
before the ancient dawn
touching the universe with my fingertips
standing still watching the stars
gathering silence with simplicity
listening to the distant dolphins at home
Thursday, February 11, 2010
SWEATING IT OUT
RWP#113
SWEATING IT OUT
Welcome to our sauna
the home of many bums
there is plenty of room
to sit around naked
sweating in silence
discussing the facts of nothing
forgetting the lost days never found
and the dark nights of nowhere
without headaches or snapped minds
reading Huxley, Kerouac and Marx
watching the medieval tombstones
floating down the silvering creek
towards a tidal wave of water
where nuns and monks dance
and tiny fish swim
in a torquoise sea of light
where no one has invented ownership
or discovered hate
we sit silent with our breath
disolved in our space
sweating it out.
SWEATING IT OUT
Welcome to our sauna
the home of many bums
there is plenty of room
to sit around naked
sweating in silence
discussing the facts of nothing
forgetting the lost days never found
and the dark nights of nowhere
without headaches or snapped minds
reading Huxley, Kerouac and Marx
watching the medieval tombstones
floating down the silvering creek
towards a tidal wave of water
where nuns and monks dance
and tiny fish swim
in a torquoise sea of light
where no one has invented ownership
or discovered hate
we sit silent with our breath
disolved in our space
sweating it out.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
ROOM OF DREAMS
RWP#112....prompt..something inspired by wallpaper.....my bedroom as a kid.
ROOM OF DREAMS
It was a sanctuary
the walls were special
plastered with baseball cards
the whiz kids playing pepper
a catcher in the grass
the splendid splinter swinging his bat
where the real world was a diamond
my room of dreams
lying on my bed every night
staring, dreaming
at the bums of Flatbush roosting
Newk, Duke, Campy
Jackie dancing some jitterbug number
before stealing second base
always the centre of the diamond
my wall of dreams
with the moon sliding through the shades
staring at those cards
I became that gangling black kid from Mobile
Hank hammerin another out of the park
Willie making another basket catch
a kid from Spavinaw called Mick
doing it all
in my room of dreams
unable to pull up the covers or sleep
summer always in my bones
playing suburban stickball
where the season is forever
travelling with suitcase Simpson and Satchel
I became Minnie Minoso
and all those cards on the wall
my world of dreams.
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