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JoeC's original poetry and photos about life and all things under the sun.

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Saturday, March 25, 2017



Dr. Mole and Mrs. Vole - A Comedy of Fears

Creation!
Life itself!
This Universal libation!
Magnificent Blue Planet!
Vibrant! Top shelf!
Mankind, humankind!
People! Amazing people!
What an amazing find!
Genetically engineered people!
Hmmm?! Really altering reality!
Changeling gods, das ultimate plan!
Some messed up duality!
Will! Perhaps science can!
GMO organisms, GMO plants, GMO animals.
Hey! Someone's rewriting this unfolding mystery!
This is fantastic! This will be recorded in historic channels!
This will be written, digitally etched into timeless annals!
But wait a fucking minute!
This must be some kind of Agatha Christie,
No! A Darth Vader mastery!
GMO people! GMO woman! GMO man!
What the fuck! Yes we can! Yes we can!
A brand spanking new Adam and Eve!
A little bit of magic! Look, nothing up my sleeve!
Genetically engineering . . . !
Genetically modifying . . . !
Now where is that changeling rabbit that was in my magic hat?
Hey! Wait a fucking minute!
Captain Kirk! Who is at the helm of this Starship?!
Khan? Are you fucking doing the steering?!
Oh! God will be so mad!
Changing his Sacred Holy plan!
I'm quivering a bit now, this seems so fucking bad!
Oh my! Oh my goodness! Oh God! Oh woman! Oh man!
With that thought, my hand slapped to my forehead!
Oh man! Oh man! Oh man! God's gonna be so mad!
Oh geez! Oh geez! Oh pleez! We're gonna be dead!
Genetically modifying!
Isn't this black magic life like sodomy!
Isn't this some devil worshiping dichotomy?!
Take a nice ripe strand of human DNA,
With mask and gloves on, maybe blinders on too,
In some secret underground lab,
For this sordid roll in the hay!
Okay! Okay! Now just settle down!
Hey, wait a fucking minute!
Do we think God is some fucking mad clown?!
Or is science and those mad scientists,
Is that? Are they? The craziest ones around?!
Oh my! Oh Lord! Oh Good God!
Take that sacred strand of DNA,
Carefully snip it and splice it,
Manipulate fyfe, create artificial life . . .
Paint abstract lines with all this strife,
Psychedelia wades up this hypocritical stream,
Whoa! Whoa! Just hang on for a second there Mr. Scienceman!
Put the brakes on Mr. Van Gogh du Marquee Esprit with your GMO dream!
Create life?! Like our Creator has! Like God did and does!
Oh my! Oh my! My little braided mind is spinning now!
I'm feeling flushed and really dizzy!
Oh man! Oh man! Oh Holy Cow!
This is some kind of science fiction tizzy!
Oh geez! Oh pa-----leez! Just wait a minute Lizzy!
This isn't, Henry the Eighth science is it?!
No way! No way! From the tower to the chopping block,
Cutting off heads so the blood spurts gloriously out!
Blood gushing from the neck, while eyes roll, and ears still hear,
Is God near now? With all that gore and sixteenth century fear?!
Ewww! What kind of guy . . . what kind of King?!
Just so he could say the Pope was a dope,
Just so he could hatch a divorce, that pathetic captor,
His wife's severed head beginning some new variant chapter!
Toppled into a bloodied messed up basket!
So he could be King without any remorse!
Man! Oh man! This isn't soap on a string!
This isn't some dope at the end of a rope!
Seems the play is the thing!
Hey! That line has a pretty nice ring!
Don't you think?
Kablink! Kablink! But don't blink!
Or does this entire play kind of stink?
After the third act we'll all need a tall strong drink!
Geez! Rink-a-dink-dink! This ship is going to sink!
I don't know! I'm just a regular Joe!
I'm just a simple little dink, a genuine shmoe!
No mad scientist, no microscope, no soap on a rope,
Certainly no King, and I know I'm not God, or 'A' god!
For God's sake! God gave me this soul and mind and flesh and bod!
Okay, so let's just settle down, all settle down . . .
Whew! Take a big breath, clear our minds,
Maybe if we all just slow down for a sec,
Just maybe we'll realize, that we shouldn't be playing god,
We shouldn't be fooling around with DNA and sacred creation,
If we stopped  for a second, we'd understand that,
Shouldn't be happening at all,
Not in any ritzy lab or modulating station!
Oh rats! Oh holy cats!
Genetic engineering!
Weaving new life . . .
Oh good golly Miss Molly!
Who's wielding that sharp science knife?!
Who's in control?! I'm shouting, I know that now!
Okay, I'm going to try to quiet down somehow.
Take a deeeeeeeep breath, clear my boggled mind,
Ommmmmmmmmmmmm! Mani Padme Hum Ommm!
Can you hear the wind in the willows?
Is that a real scientist . . . dressed all in white . . .
With his mask and his gloves, with his keen science knife?
Everything neat and tucked in tight!
Yes! Yes! I see more clearly now!
Just give me a second so I can focus my rife sight,
My oh my! Well whadaya know! 
Indeed! It is Mister Mole!
I thought that furry little devil looked so . . . ?
Familiar! Wickedly so! I know! I know!
Look! There that little devil goes!
He's scrambled back into his little mole hole!
Oh geez! Oh geez! Oh God! Oh pleez!
Is Dr. Mole taking a tunnel down to hell,
For a conference with that master changeling hisself!
With Lucifer's autographed book of alchemy sitting high on Mole's shelf, demon devil!
So is mad Dr. Mole working secretly on some other level?
There's going to be hell to pay!
I'm sure of it! I'm convinced, this is so messed up!
But when we see how messed up it is,
Who's going to fess up?!
Who's going to say, "Oh! Sorry folks! Sorry God! We messed up! I messed up, hahaha!"
"I kind of feel sheepish now, hehehe!"
"But please don't be mad! By the way, that sheep we made,
that cute little woolly Dolly! Oh by golly! She was a sweet thing!"
"Wasn't she a sweet thing?! Oh my, suddenly I'm feeling all hot!"
"Whew! A bit embarrassed I guess, cuz I seem to be turning all purple and red!"
"Hehehe! Oh those guilty ones! Not me! No sirree!
But those others, they sure know how to spin a fine line!"
Okay! Take a deep breath and remember not to whine.
Oh my! Oh my! Now I'm feeling so much dismay!
But come on now! Who the hell is going to fess up and pay?
Who's responsible for all this messed up play!
Genetically modifying the world like some toy,
Genetically engineering a new girl and boy,
Or are those superhuman soldiers you're making?
How many souls have been lost with this grave undertaking?
Oh this is so alarming! Really  Dr. Mole, frighteningly disarming!
These experiments of yours are not even close to being charming!
This isn't like hybridizing peas or cross pollinating with bees,
Or any kind of good farming! Don't you see!
Open your eyes and your narrow profit mind,
there is no margin for this kind of rancid bargain.
Don't you see what your harming?
Or is that your true ultimate goal?
Mr. Mad Scientist Mole and compliant Mrs. Shareholder Vole,
Don't you see you're digging a huge hole!
Oh my! Oh geez! God is going to be so damn mad!
Or do you think God will somehow be glad?!
Do you think you'll get to heaven,
Where God will pat you on the back,
Tussle your hair with his Holy hand?
Say, "Good boys and girls! You've done such a splendid job!"
"Just like Steve Jobs did, him making that Iphone!"
"Oh just a sec my children, that's my ring tone, I need to take this call!"
So God is busy, taking a billion calls, toddling down the shopping mall,
And here we are lingering, down on cool planet earth,
Genetically modifying, so Colonel Handles and Uncle MacDonald,
Can have something new at their fast food venues,
A Chicktator burger, or McMooupchuck dinner on their menus,
Could be take-out, or take-away, at that fine modern diner,
With fifty different GMO herbs and GMO spices,
Don't forget that special GMO sauce that'll make the plastic seem even finer,
Looky here, that GMO food even splices and dices!
Oh united! Such gladness and happiness! Life full of mirth!
Celebrating scientific victory after profiteering victory!
But now let's just carefully measure, modifying possibilities,
How about three months from conception to birth!
What has all this done to the breadth of your girth!
Hmmm! Okay, so we've put on a few pounds.
Who cares!@Life is short!
Besides, Fukushima is still melting down, and that we can't abort,
And ISIL, well hell, those fool fanatics are still raging around,
And Colonel Handles and Uncle MacDonald and Mr. Monstrosito,
Well heck, they still need to make a big profit!
And believe me this isn't some Vatican Descanto!
But Hark! Off in the distance!
That voice, calling to us from the wilderness!
Listen intently and oh so very closely!
Cup your ear with your hand, so you better understand!
Is that some prophet, wailing in his madness!
Or is that just mother nature, crying because of her sadness!
Or some singing forest, a chorus caroling Holy songs!
Nah! You're imaging things! We're imagining some fake golden things,
Forests don't sing! You foolish twerp!
Those sounds are just distant bells and various rings,
Up on fat cat street, down on Wall street, over on Fleet street,
Where Shopmart traders get together and meet.
But still, someone's splicing and dicing,
Every little thing spliced and diced, particularly nano nice!
Chopping some GMO onions to cook up with that GMO rice!
And GMO corn, GMO rape seed, GMO potatoes, and GMO wheat.
GMO, GMO, GMO, GMO, GMO animals, a real GMO treat!
Okay! Whoa again!
How much of this messed up stuff do we need?
Genetically engineering, switching things up,
A nice shiny mirror image, of what once filled our cup,
So, creating GMO life, modifying DNA with your big science knife,
Let's see what you've done, take a close look in the mirror,
Hmmm! Not quite believing my eyes, scratching my head here,
Not quite sure if I agree with all that I see.
Okay! Another deep breath, take a closer look at what is truly there.
Ommmmmmmmmmmmmmm! Mani Padme Hum Ommm!
Live and let live!
But remember, this is the human race,
We're supposed to be full of grace,
Looking into that magic mirror on the wall,
Is there any good reflected, real good that we should embrace?
Oh my! Oh my! This doesn't appear to be well thought out,
Staring at that image, an opposite reflective view!
Live looks like evil! So fiendishly backwards!
Aren't we supposed to be traveling forwards?
Oh shit! Why didn't someone say something in the first place!
I'm panicking now, beginning to tear out my hair!
Why couldn't we see? Evil is actively motivating this race!
Geez! We should have known better!
You know! Cuz God is going to be so mad!
In the beginning, God spoke these words,
"Let there be light!"
In the beginning this was God's show!
But now! Oh Holy Cow!
We're in trouble Big Brother!
Lamenting our poor ailing Mother!
Our failing planet, this wounded earth!
She's not so full of happy, and I don't see much joy or mirth,
She's grieving for all her children,
Every living thing is suffering,
All the plants and the birds,
All the lions and tigers, elephants too,
Giraffes and rhinos,
Those few exotic whales,
Still sounding and still remarkably blue.
Mother Earth she's weeping, for all things she once had,
All the moles and the voles,
All the females and males.
Oh God is going to be so mad!
I can tell you, we haven't been careful,
God's not going to be glad!
If God comes down to earth,
Comes here as flesh and blood, in some miracle,
Wanting to talk with his creatures, like some oracle,
Wanting to enjoy a sunny walk through this jungle, His Eden!
Wait a minute! I think we need to hide our heads in shame,
Not just bury our dumb heads in the sand,
That's pretty fucking lame!
Just the same, just the same,
So we've polluted this earth,
We've saluted some obnoxious stupid flags,
Those uncaring things would have made better rags,
We've paid Kings handsomely,
Or was that payment most often a ransom? Gee!
Oh God is going to be so damn mad!
He's going to give us the finger!
Likely he'll wipe us off his map,
Cuz brother we've fallen,
Into our own damn trap!
Now we're in debt, cuz we've gambled it all away,
Now we're going to have to pay!
Pay dearly, I'm sure!
Pay with our lives!
Pay with our souls!
All because of covetous foolish kings and belligerent stupid queens,
And ignorant careless presidents, reckless governments and other greedy has-beens,
All because of grabby Mrs. Vole and dastardly Mr. Mole.
God is going to come around and find us,
When he does, he'll grind and chew us up, spit us out,
Feed us to his three headed dog that is always enraged,
While the devil squats there on his hot rock, patiently waiting in hell,
Laughing his head off, raking his ragged horns against his hell fire cage,
Basking in those infernal flames, pleading with God to let him loose again,
Ready to clamber out of that rotten bog, dragging and rattling his heavy chains,
Rise out of his horrid punishing shame, arise once again with his chastening game,
Ready to pick through all the stinking garbage, GMO leftovers and rubbish remnants,
Dressed to the hilt in Satan's finest hellfire vestments,
That inevitably, when we're gone after this critical run,
After all testaments have been spoken and are finally done,
Thus nothing but a decaying planet remains,
Void of hybrid strains or anything or anyone,
Vacant and feral, spinning 'round a morose forgotten sun.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017



Poems Out Of Dreams

All these poems,
Out of dreams,
Dreams writing poems,
High in the billowing clouds,
Words flying across the blue sky,
Floating over ocean waves,
Diving into the depths of the cold sea,
Where whales sound,
Discovering untold mysteries,
With King Neptune frolicking,
Swimming with shimmering mermaids,
As titanic coral reefs rise gloriously,
Pristine from the ocean floor,
All the way to the awesome sky,
Where we fly,
Yet if something refuses to fly,
It inevitably crashes,
So we must learn to fly,
So we don't crash,
Even though we don't have feathers or wings,
Even if we just learn to fly,
In our perceptive mind,
Otherwise down we come,
Gravity forcing us,
Where we crash,
Some times burn,
Some times land,
A soft landing,
Or a hard landing,
To the unforgiving ground,
All in our minds eye,
Depending on how weighty,
Depending on how lopsided,
Depending on how aerodynamic,
Our thoughts are,
How lofty our ideals are,
How full of air our lungs are,
Depending on if we are hollow,
Or if we are dense or narrow,
Down we'll come,
Falling in our dreams,
Discovering, finding that in the end,
Our story always concludes the same,
Or almost the same,
Either soaring forever,
Eventually reaching enlightenment and Nirvana,
Or descending, plummeting like a stone,
Arriving in our liquid dreams,
And slowing sinking,
To the bottom of the sea,
Realizing we are one with nothingness,
Discovering gravity has no hold on us,
We are but we aren't,
So we become Heaven,
So God wraps us in his nothingness,
So we become God,
Where we discover all things have passed,
Where Buddha and Jesus and Mohammed,
Have dwelt all along,
Beings simply like us,
In that spectral light and dimension,
Where the dream and the poem and the song,
Are all the same vibration,
Existing on the same wavelength,
Performed in the very same key,
Where nothing is nothing is nothing,
Forever more, all the way to infinity.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017



Dark Dark Night

Somewhere,
Deep in space,
Voices are calling us,
Somewhere,
Beyond the known universe,
Our Creator is beckoning to us,
"Step into my divine Light",
God is yearning for us,
"Open your fortuitous third eye",
Our Creator is anxious for us,
Somewhere in space and time,
A place few have ever gone,
Is patiently waiting for us,
While the good earth turns,
While the enduring moon sings,
While the vibrant sun shines for creation.
So here we are,
Immersed in all our wonderment,
Crying and weeping alone,
While all the oceans grieve,
While flocks of birds fall,
Deathly still from the polluted sky,
While humankind struggles,
Through each hour,
With broken hearts,
And soon no matter,
How much we pray,
Nurturing blessed day,
Will turn to dark dark night.

Monday, March 13, 2017



Dead Men

Dead men come to visit me,
Arriving late at night,
Even in early morn,
Placing hot fleshy hands,
Which I clearly see,
Speaking beyond the burial pit,
Where their souls have been stripped and torn,
Firmly touching my uneasy hand,
So ghostly and free,
Quietly commenting on how we're all reborn,
Serious eyes focusing from the grave,
Where one would imagine them still to be,
A look that is far from wicked or forlorn,
Oh how warm and alive those dead men's hands,
Yet as those dead men stand there,
Staring down by my bedside,
I can see that they're wond'ring,
How life is now,
Considering they're dead now,
No longer abide,
Existence as we know it,
Bathed by day and night,
Yet ethereal somehow,
They speak simple phrases,
While I lie there amazed,
Looking up at their intelligent faces,
Wond'ring if I'm asleep or awake,
Or just half dazed,
Their words are generally few,
I wonder if they'll leave traces,
After they're gone,
Departed like the vagrant light,
Once they've touched me,
Marked me before morning sight.
Was it a dream?
Or was I awake?
Did those dead men truly appear?
If so what did they take?
Am I still whole?
Or have they left me torn and in parts,
When they spoke their clear sombre words,
Did they leave some lasting mark?
Any scars or holes?
Any memorable wounds,
With their healing arts?
Again I close my eyes,
Dream of distant Ararat,
And that sacred lost Ark,
There in some ethereal mist,
In a remarkable cloud,
All standing together,
On that high mountainside,
We're gathered together,
Gazing down at the world,
All those dead men,
Standing tall and erect,
All out of their tombs,
Shoulder to shoulder,
With crowds of soldiering Angels,
So I assume they haven't lied,
As I stare at their faces,
Look into their deep eyes,
Wonder if we've been saved,
And there on that rugged mountain,
A burning bush enlightens that early morn,
All those dead men,
They're smiling,
And I know in my heart,
Life is reborn.

Sunday, March 12, 2017



March Snow

Snow on snow,
Flake after flake,
Falling and falling,
Falling and falling,
Falling and falling,
Blanketing a slumbering world,
Putting us all back to bed again,
Flake after flake after flake,
All this snow on snow,
Snow on snow on snow,
Keeps falling and falling,
When spring should be calling,
Still old man winter keeps rocking the cradle,
Snowing on still frozen streams,
Flake after flake telling a snowy March fable,
All this gelid white still falling in themes,

Brisk March setting a snowy cold table,
Covering the landscape like fluffy whipped cream,
But spring should be knocking,
Still old man winter keeps on rocking,
Comforting the cradle with his cold snowy dreams.

Saturday, March 11, 2017



You stare at me,
I know you're woeful,
And so very wise,
Your two pouting lips,
Your sweet delicate guise,
Sadness yearning in your deep eyes.
You say, "Don't ever leave me!",
"Don't worry," I tell you,
"I'll never leave you",
"Not in a million years",
"I'll always be with you",
I say this honestly,
Void of all those drastic fears,
All in a reassuring tone.
"I'll always be with you",
Yet still you sigh and moan.
"You'll always find me",
"Always be able to see me",
I speak those words,
In a waning light,
As swooning day,
Turns to somber night.
"You'll see me when you wake",
"And when you sleep",
"In your thoughts and dreams",
"I'll be here beside you at all times",
"Where e'er you go",
"Hand in hand",
"With a cast of dancing moonbeams".
"I'll be there, with all my poems and rhymes".
"You'll find me in far off Africa",
"You'll find me in that North Pole view",
"You'll find me on an ice floe in the Northwest Passage",
"You'll find me at the South Pole too",
"And crossing the equator, that long drawn host",
"You'll find me wandering in vast Asia",
"And on that sentient European coast",
"You'll find me on brave continents",
"In each and every strange country".
"You'll find me standing at the top of vacant Everest",
"And pondering at the deepest part of the callous ocean",
"You'll find me on the stark moon and  emotional Venus",
"You'll find me on planet Mercury and warrior Mars",
"On ringed Saturn and beautiful Jupiter with all its wondrous elevations",
"You'll find me on transient Neptune and transitory Pluto",
"And far out in boisterous space",
"Evolving in all those mysterious revelations",
"You'll find me circling bold Sirius and pert Andromeda",
"And you'll find me in your bright living room",
"In your sheltered bedroom too",
"Snuggling close to your warm body",
"And you'll find me in your laundry room",
"On that bar of soap, washing away all your gloom".
"You'll find me in your car and in your fragrant garden",
"You'll find me in that book you're reading",
"You'll find me everywhere",
With humility, I beg your pardon.
"I'll never leave you",
"I'll always be right here by your side",
"At noon and at the stroke of midnight",
"You'll find me on your morning ride",
"You'll find me when you meditate",
"And in your cognitive mind",
"You'll find me harboured in your heart and soul",
"You'll always find me, midst all the grind",
"You'll see me when you turn around",
"When you look behind",
"Trust me, I'll always be gentle",
"I'll always try my best to be kind".
"I'll never leave you",
"I'll never be far away",
"You'll find me where e'er you look",
"You'll find me shining here everyday",
Like a prayer or ray of light,
Reflected on still water,
"You'll see me perched on snowflakes",
Flying with flocks of glorious birds,
Such a fabulous wondrous sight.
"You'll always find and see me",
"In all your waking hours",
"And in your hopes and dreams",
"In all those things that are truly good and right".
"You'll always see me, always hear my voice",
"Although I am nothing but a vague and distant memory",
"Of what is and what was",
Precious things that make you cry, like heartbreak does,
"A filament of some figment",
"Imagination, walking hand in hand with mine",
"And when all the mountains crumble",
Into the deep uncaring sea,
"I'll be there, in that perilous tumble",
"Where e'er you stumble and land",
"Caressing your beautiful face",
"Kissing your pouting lips",
"Holding your cautious hand",
"While I look into your blessed shining eyes",
"And when the tired sun decides not to shine",
"And the Universe sings its final hymn",
"I'll be there with you",
"Wanting to speak, lyrics 'tween my two lips",
"Say those words, I love you".
Waiting to take you in my outstretched arms,
Bear you all the way to infinity,
Carry you to heaven and eternity,
Where Alpha meets Omega,
Where God will speak some final word,
And that last spark of sacred right remarks,
"How beautiful you were!",
"Existing side by side",
"Like two dazzling singing larks",
Where every splendid poem,
And marvelous song lasted long,
Tasted so wonderful in all that blessed goodness,
Regarding each other with our perfect attitude,
Ultimately immersed in our ocean of love and happiness,
Together sharing smiling rapturous plenitude,
With joy fusing our lonely hearts,
Just as I promised,
We'll never be apart.

Friday, March 10, 2017



The Moon and the Sun and the Stars

Take off your rhinestone mask,
Let me marvel at your sultry face,
Come closer so I might see,
Those deep dark eyes,
Suffer me to hold you closer,
Allow me to feel your perfect curves.

The moon,
And the sun,
And the stars,
A divine genuine sea,
Propensity for passionate life,
All those endless possibilities,
 Painting all our wondrous dreams.

Thursday, March 9, 2017



I've always wanted to be a writer,
Now I'm just digging my own grave,
Digging and digging and digging,
Deep into the formidable earth,
Soon I'll dig my way to China,
Where I hear they have a lot of yen,
And rice and other luxuries,
Like hundreds of millions of people,
And hundreds of thousands of writers,
Writers that are digging into the earth,
Digging and digging and digging,
Deep beneath the once mighty Yangtze,
Digging for poems and forgotten stories,
Digging graves and tombs for all those dying sacred places,
That once shone splendidly above the yellow earth,
Exalting nature and mighty Emperors,
Delighting billions of Asian eyes,
Marking that wondrous Asian landscape,
Like some great wall,
Built to keep all the writers in,
And to keep another billion eyes out,
Where so much freedom has been lost,
Like so many forgotten poems and stories,
About splendid nature and magnificent Emperors.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017



You are that lost continent,
I the tempestuous sea,
Wanting to wash up on your fabled shore,
Caress your endless sandy beaches,
Splash up, rush ceaselessly,
Against your rocky ramparts.
You are that mythical far off land,
That country I can only dream of.
I am the wanting sea,

Honouring the mystical moon,
Only able to dream about your source,
A tide of love that ebbs and flows,
Shaping your formidable coastline,
Carving its way across your perfect nature,

Rafting your marvelous sparkling rivers,
Perpetually dashing through your rapids and canyons,
Spilling o'er your lush green valleys, 

Frothing through your towering forests,
Where your sacred springs like crystal,
Surging into the very deepest part,
Of my endless passionate ocean.

Tuesday, March 7, 2017




Siddhartha laying with beautiful Kamala,
Courtesan teaching him carnal knowledge,
Kamala imprisoned a lovely rare song bird,
A feathered rarity locked-up in a gilded cage,
Siddhartha prior to seeking enlightenment,
Before beginning his final earthly pilgrimage,
Contemplating life on the bank of a sacred river,
Siddhartha dreaming one fateful night,
Lying next to Kamala's perfect body, seductive beauty,
Siddhartha envisioned Kamala's rare beautiful song bird.
Dreaming still, waking in his dream at golden sunrise,
Not hearing that usual welcoming morning trill,
Siddhartha wondered why that  wondrous precious bird,
Was not singing,
Its usual morning songs,
Of happiness and joy,
No chorus or trill or captivating hymn. 

Siddhartha, roused from his comfortable bed,
Dreaming still, finding that tiny golden bird,
Lying dead and still on the bottom of that golden cage.
Siddhartha extended his open hand,
Reaching into that small golden prison,
Clutching the small dead bird,
All that glorious colour still intact,
Holding that feathered beauty,
Now quite stiff and cold.
Siddhartha tossed that small innocent corpse,
Thrown out an airy window,
That unfortunate dead creature,
Falling like a mindless stone,
Plummeting to the unyielding earth below.
Suddenly realizing his disrespect,
Such careless action,
So uncaring he was in that moment.
Engulfed by sorrow for what he had done,
That poor little song bird's dead body,
Siddhartha felt overwhelmed,
God's creature, now lifeless and dead.
What we humans have done,
Reaching thoughtlessly,
Into every golden cage,
Taking hold of what was beautiful,
So glorious and good,
Things so wonderful and pure.
Unceremoniously chucking the divine,
Those gifts so freely given,
Life pitched out every open window,
Plummeting like useless discarded nothings,
Down to the sorry ground,
Onto scrap piles and dung heaps,
Such selfishness and arrogance,
Casting goodness and purity,
Good life itself,
Into stinking rubbish bins,
Buried in toxic waste piles.
Mother Earth once providing us with everything,
Countless travesties and sins, 

So apathetically committed.
Good God forgive us!
 Yet we shall surely not be forgiven,
So the burning bush must leave us,
Abandoned and buried,
While earth's pitiful oceans burn,
Radioactive, polluted beyond recognition,
As the tainted ebbing tide weeps for Eden,
While worthless grief grips,
Our corrupt mourning souls,
And grim death envelopes,
Our remorseful world.

Sunday, March 5, 2017



Gravity arrested my being, pulling me down to mother earth,
Aching to breathe again I was prodded from another past life tomb,
Desiring life I was pulled to this tortured earthly plane via birth,
Longing for life I was pushed from my mother's strangled womb,
Yearning to see again I opened my eyes with such marvelous new sight,
Marveling at creation I heard birds singing entrancing sweet trills,
Each step I take I see universe acquiescing to God's perfect light,
Ecstatic I sipped pure water, tasted delicious fruit, such fabulous thrills,
God blesses me every day now with each flawless welcome morn,
Creation mystifies me each night with a miraculous moon and red Mars,
Like Siddhartha I have watched myself die only to be reborn,
Again and again, as the milky way spirals its way past heavenly stars,
So novae flourish in all the galaxies, wending their way to certain glory,
In the blink of an eye one last lifetime, soon we must be gone forever,
In a dream humankind shall perish from this envious fragile story,
Only shadows can remain in this imaginative land of never ever,
Until perfect God snuffs out all his righteous impeccable light,
When heaven finally sings one finishing hymn, so divinely right,
And angels recite one last prayer, surrendering in God's omnipotent sight.

Thursday, March 2, 2017



Standing stark naked, riveted in that New York palace,
Waiting for an intrepid sea to bleed, even miraculously part,
Multitudes of rats running round in circles, searching for solace,
Oh servitude tome! This rat filled home, all that blissful wordy art!

So now more blood spilled recklessly on some angry street,
Scores of rustled cattle herded to that relentless slaughter,
Cold bolts fired mercilessly into battered skulls, procuring tainted meat,
Feeding all the rats and brats and other political cats, all that fast food fodder.

Subterranean travelers rumbling in the jungle, where fat cats quake and shake,
Speeding blind into tunnels, funneled into moldering tenements, below tow'ring dunes,
Battered stones and red sticks mark territorial boundaries, signs camel train travelers make,
Ochre hand prints bark that line, graffiti signs cave walls, antiquity marring palace ruins.

Hooded spectres haunting, taunting travelers, both awake and recklessly asleep,
Myth narrated as fireside legend, wide-eyed spectators huddling in that glowing muddle,
Living streambeds wending ways to untamed waterholes, many secrets they silently keep,
Under starry skies nomad mothers wrapping love 'round children, til they coo and cuddle.

Marveling in cryptic valleys and barren mountains, tossed on a warring frothing sea,
Arriving in tempest zones, tempted as old castle cities toil preparing for a final feast,
Hungry on that variegated journey, sights yet unseen becoming those verily seen you see,
Migrating across arteries on dark moonless nights, terror becomes a haunting hunting beast.

Waking on cold night roads, icy paralysis mortifying all those pliant pilgrims traveling,
Pairs of red glowing eyes, grinning shadows stand deathly still beside each traveler's bed,
Terror gripping one from restless slumber, nipped and petrified by demons hovering,
Ghastly noises murmured, ashen silence seeping hues of pale in that horrific frightful dread.

Entranced by morbid silence, nary an angel or light nor right seen on that dream screen,
Shadows grasp sleepers, constricting rasping throats, no gasping or screams to be heard,
Fear grips a traveler's mind and soul, a lumbering vise locked tight in that ghostly scene,
Fate beckons deliverance beyond the gates of hell, those demon shadows surely feared.

Reams of horrid nightmares drag harried souls from heaven,  plunging mortals into perdition,
Bludgeoned in a fitful sleep, sentient vampires grinning ere they suck oozing tainted blood,
Ripping the heart out of every life, vile Old Hag vies with hysterical gruesome submission,
Fording the boiling River Styx, rage grows under a burning sky, sense a coming morbid flood.

Waking again those travelers in paradise continue, past vineyards and greening meadows,
O'er rivers sculpting unversed landscape, o'er rugged mountains, walking lush valleys,
Through eastern hills, a doubtful trek continues, past quaint farms and scented hedgerows,
Voyagers with calloused bleeding feet roam, stumbling bent and spent in avenues and alleys.

Those survivors that rise when perilous day breaks, tormented by the blinding hateful sun,
Adding poison with mourning, vitamin C and D rallying once the mistral wind arrives,
Trekking further into some dark unknown, harassed by waves of ecstasy, just for fun,
Gather empty shells on lonely beaches, wading angry seas, splashed by acid dips and dives.

Once the dragon has eaten every broken heart, once life is tied to a post and burned alive,
Time strikes a different clue, seconds in that rue tick by like minutes, hours then days,
Dreams morph into selfless acts of barbarism, strafing wicked hordes as they strive and dive,
Epiphany takes the sordid lead, tickling days into fruit salad garnished by God's burning rays.

Ecstasy never looked so damn good, dreaming all those humps and bumps and demon bites,
Squirming with all that pain, hot pokers jabbed into blinking eyes, stabbing torrid minds,
Besieged by gale and squall razing placid countryside, all cold on these dangerous nights,
Evading slumbering guards and dark angels, past ancient pits, all minced in that final grind.

Serfdom ticking from night terrors into day dreams, prayer just won't do as balm or salve,
All these bleeding wounds and scars, bits torn from the biggest picture littering the wayside,
One to another there are no good things, more doubts and mystery are all we finally have,
Digging into my own fresh grave, sifting for grave diggers lost coins, suddenly death arrived.

Subterranea wells up, goblins and ghouls dwell far below those burning gates of hell,
Original travelers beating skin drums with sticks and bones, throat singing to praise the dead,
Origins far below that tidal wash, askew as oblivion erases marks across that sacred dell,
Seeming and teeming from both sides now, swilling that toxic mix which swells one's dread.

Still all wail, building higher prison walls, rank cells committing all to fettered life,
Beyond New York palaces, post mesmerizing terrors, past those plagues and torments,
One's hopes and dreams cast away, drowning in torrential swells, gutted by that chisel knife,
Restitution hurled into extinction as harlots dance naked, instigating fomented comments.

Love is the last thing we think of in this entrancing dance,
Comparing survival with traveling, ranked by a succubus in a gargoyle bed,
Parched lips crack and bleed when pure rain is only come by chance,
Babbling as another nightmare terrorizes, just more cursed bullets in a severed head.

All those palace henchmen, armed and armoured against a peasant blight,
Travelers march with raised fists, trudging bravely towards earth's flat destiny,
Surrounded by plight, severing digits at each knuckle, heads smashed in every fight,
Streaming into each fray, excuses fall by the rocky wayside, so much angry testimony.

Now there is no singing under the polluted sky, no memories left to fuel dying night fires,
Goodness is dead, all purity finally corrupt by contempt, all things kings and captains bent,
Infernos have razed the land, those trekking on their quest, sickened by quicksand mires,
Thus all the haunted become tainted, faint souls which New York palaces shameless rent.

At last I'm in a cold blue polluted room on a stark polluted day,
Searching for my errant soul in a quagmire of polluted black muck,
Wond'ring why God haunts me in my dreams yet refuses to stay,
Ecstasy makes me shiver, quivering as the dying earth is now out of luck.

So in these end times, mass extinction, thou shalt not sow nor reap,
Birds and cattle and fish dead, all soil and water poisoned beyond good,
God knows we humans failed Eden and Heaven, like yesterday we cannot keep,
Verily Mother Earth is dying now, why didn't souls care as spirit forever should?