The Trinity Summed Up

God is seperate, and no doubt superior. He is in the heavens, He is walking among us, and He is within us. The Trinity summed up. God in heaven is a cozy feeling, there is a place we will dwell. Among us is harder to grasp, but Jesus is the best known man to ever live on the earth. That Person of the Trinity rose from the dead. There seems a way to get to our dwelling place. Within us is the most misunderstood and unrealized aspect of our God. The true nature of God is to create, give, love. Do not make Him a God of yourself. For He is seperate. But know that He does live within you, guiding your daily actions and decisions. Some call it conscious, some call it my gut, some call it intuition, the women for sure. And remember, at His core, God is a creator. What you create can, and should, be God inspired. Even the dark creations.

Stretch Your Limbs

once, when i was a little younger, and a little dumber, i tried to carry the weight of this damn ole world.  i'll tell you it was an awful feeling.  nights and nights of fret and worry.  days and days of toil and anguish.  for what?  a bag of nothing loaded with chest pains for those caught in the trap.  another day for those who've turned their backs on circumstance.  exsist in the moments, inspire and influence with a plan, stretch your limbs, and sleep a peaceful sleep.     

Painter's Den

consider a small nuisance
an annoying turn of events

visualize a heart beat
it's continuous pumping

drive over to a painter's den
old litter on the floor

wrapers and smocks
a towel hangs from a hook

the painter wipes her brow
and stares out an open window

Inevitability

rivers will find the true path
always and without apology

inevitability

truth and all it's simplicity
unloads the desperate

inevitability

but the flesh! the flesh!
mmmmm, sang the choir

inevitability

Space Girls With Glitter

the light in here is a bit heavy
all along the country lane she sweated
all the cares of the entire world

went the long way, by the gasoline station
peering into store windows on the way
some auction was going down in the round

space girls with glitter and memories
moving in unision to the beat of the band
fear not was said ten thousand ways

and the prophet's words fulfilled
pardon me she moaned
but would you mind taking me to dance

blue, blue those eyes. and alive.
become what you want to be, but hurry
the crow's getting louder and louder

thirty three degrees and the coffee shop closed at 8:30
what kind of joint are you running?
the government's gonna make it fair

karl marx was a well intentioned man
but a seer he was not
motivation is what turns the engine of capitalism

another flawed system in it's pure form
but right in it's harmoniuos relationship with human nature
marxism and it's historical place of failure

patronize the young and spirited
at your peril and without an invitation for tea
sinatra, he played cards and drained whiskey bottles

until 3am

the actresses never once missed a que
right on the mark with comedy lines and expressions
the way out is through others

the calm and broken southwesterners
the settled and robust midwesterners
the preoccupied northeasterners

the innocent and proud southerners
and the californians
and the others

...and the north plains people
the true heroes of the world
blaming no one and demanding an appearance

Forest Highway

c                          g             
we talked in that northern town
f                         c
on the forest highway
f                                 g
where the sisters and mothers
f                     c
gathered to pray.

sang songs of knowing grace
and thought of texico
where the rightous get buried
with sins that we know.

em                                            f               c
her many many heartbreaks her dreams of paradise
em                                             c                 g
her father came to love her and brought this holy night 

alabama preacher man
his pride'll do him in
left his texas folk behind
and will not make amends.

heard choirs and angels
remind us of his birth
took comfort from the trumpet
saved all the earth.

her many many heartbreaks her dreams of paradise
her father came to love her and brought this holy night

Backwards They Live

we will understand love
at the end, clarity and ah ha's
certainly it's not what we thought

or why

but it is wonderful
the cares of this world melt
thursdays and fridays
relections on a pond
each ripple with a story
introduced and loved
unknown to those
trying to get the most out of life

backwards they live

it's you that life wants
to exhaust and use
drowzy and old
satisfied, understanding love

Clawing The Walls

seeking the truth
in the midst of lies

finding the way
through watering eyes

helping the poor
overcome the end

ignoring the fight
of the heartless men

training the young
to have self control

giving the lost
a glimmer of hope

singing the tunes
all through the night

playing the games
losing the fight

clawing the walls
just hanging on

carving the turkey
up until dawn

Buzzards Await

this life of wavering passions
seeking meaning, drowning rightousness
bitter pills and eventual humbling
buzzards await the end
this we know
yet still we plead for acceptance
take me as I am
as if there is another alternative
calculations and odds
mercy only for those who submit
live like a poor man
needs confused with wants again
economies and politics
one feeding off the other
until the days of reckoning
generations pass
each providing identity
the human instinct to associate
comfort somehow found
within the misery of others
tragic irony
of the brotherhoods
and sisterhoods
only the lonely are free
free from expectations and conformity

Cigarette Ash

woke up somewhere between tim buck two and the mission fields
ahh, the worried and the broke
near the wishing well sat a old woman with a inch long cigarette ash
singing church songs and praying
she must have seen the destruction caused by greed and selfishness
the young never really understood
their lives usually not soaked with loss and disappointment and vices
no such thing as young at heart

Hard To Lead America (Ballad of Herman Cain)

herman cain, herman cain
are you ready for this pain
the vultures are ready to end your game.

herman cain, herman cain
they all trashed your name
what a shame what a shame, poor herman cain.

herman cain, herman cain
been kicked and defamed
truth must be buried and a good man blamed.

herman cain, herman cain
come in here from the rain
hard to lead america with your dignity maintained.

herman cain, herman cain
heard the songs that you sang
what a shame what a shame, poor herman cain.

g
dg
cgdg

Helicopter Rose

empathy to rhyme
we're all inclined
to stray from the vine
for 2 cents worth of a commoner's utterings.

helicopter rose
born next to the willows
lived her life on the road
going from flop house to flop house on the dock.

started as a one man band
played his tunes all across the land
kept on saying he understands
'til one day when he claimed his pants caught on fire.

simply written, simply said
hard to bust through a thick head
in times we're tested, in times we're led
close your eyes and have a little quiet time with us.

amemgf (3)

Mexican Disco

g
honeymoon
c
when streets were icy
ranch in the valley
cussing rattling windows
winter parks
to the top of the mountain
homestead
up in eldorado
mission churches
near laredo's downtown
trail walkers
where the lily pads swam
ruins in tulum
afternoon rum runner
mexican disco
mirrors on the ceiling
pot belly girl
ready for a miracle
tell us about the times
when you held her hand.

d7g

dignity
it's all in the eyes
perceptions
and the mind's alibi
hold it together
locked in a rolling stone
daily routines
give the years colors
a masterpiece
hung above the mantel
accents of roses
two little girls with bonnets
starting to wander
peering from the gazeebo
a restless man
keeping watch over the women
every hour
a time capsule moment
every day
one of thirty thousand.
  

North End Of Erwin Park

take a two by four
as you head out the door
gonna go march

the north end of erwin park
something we want to say
people we really want to blame

couldn't keep his last job
something about screwing off
better take a winter hat

it'll be cold during the late night rap
hope that guitar player is there
the one with the funny hair

singing ghost songs and blues
'bout the time he lost his shoes
ten minute solos, finger picking style

coat was made from some baby cow
dude last night got put in the slammer
took a swing at the event planner

be really really scary to go to jail
like something out of dante's hell
protest, protest whatever it is

write it all down and make a list
send it on up to the white house door
demand to be heard, demand the floor

until you quit pissing in the parks
or living it up after dark
sounds like the sounds of an idiot wind

mad at themselves for their constant sins
occupying their minds with chanting songs
burning that candle all night long

amemg
emgam

Two Step

c                                                 f
who knows if you get a buick or a bentley.
c                                                 g
who needs to know your point of view.
f                           
who cries to the moonlight,
c
who turns the lights out at night.
g                            f                           c
look around and find your dancing boots.

give me answers to all my psyco questions.
give me an expert in shakedown tecniques.
give me hearts and starlets,
give me art and flavored sparks.
heater nights walking cobbeled streets.

whatcha think they doing in playa del carmen.
shouldn't we just sleep in this hammock all day.
breeze blows from the windows,
she knows he will never go.
haggling for a chess set with a mexican sage.

tell me the truth of the happily ever afters.
tell me of the blame and the broken faith.
bet the under, hear the thunder,
ever wonder when our love will come.
two step like we did in the early days.

Shy In St. Louis

stepped on the st augustine
cool it was on my bare feet
planned a humdinger of a party
stayed up late swaying to the rythyms
haunted houses all shut down
get a permit or walk around the lake
like a cake without frosting
don't want to see you cook my food
scrubs and spas and leather chairs
scents and sheens and darkened lamps
two pitches shy in saint louis
all the women make us smile again

Texico (Draft): The Second Louisiana Purchase

     A provision to provide a needed balance in the initial population of Texico was evident from the start.  The solution led to the 'Gone To Texico' campaign.  As part of the agreement to combine the legal nation of Texas with the nation of Mexico, a four year timeline was laid out stipulating the manuevers, needed negotiations, compromises, and agreements to officially create the nation of Texico.  The Texico Papers, written by L. Dean Fitzgerald and published several years before, had clearly indicated that private land ownership was extremely important to the development of a truly great nation.  'Gone to Texico' was the marketing effort to influence americans, canadiens, africans, europeans, egyptians, indians, japanese, australians, vikings, chinese, cubans, or eskimos to buy land and move to Texas during the four year timeline, beginning in 2018.  Despite Washington's continuous legal interventions and delay tactics, the courts had spoken and Texas was legally a country.  Due to the very low taxes on income and goods, the economy thrived and the Texas and Mexico business bonds grew strong in the pre-Texico days.  
    
     The greatest suburb builders in the history of the world, the mexicans, were building homes, businesses, and cities from Athens to Archer City.  In a sign of the times, the United States sold Lousiana to Texas in 2020 so it could actually keep the american government open.  Louisiana, long neglected and ridiculed, was too expensive to keep in the Union.  Texas paid $1 Trillion dollers and in return got New Orleans and courtroom peace from the Americans.  The revolution was over.  The cajuns gladly went along, our frenchmen and mudwomen of the swamps.  The gator hunters and juke joint jazz queens.  Down to 48 states and half the gulf of Mexico.  Andrew Jackson was turning in the dirt.  The Second Louisiana Purchase was sure to be a part of Texico lore.  By 2022, when the nation of Texico came to be, the Mexican population was 200 million, swelled by central and south american immigration, and Texas had grown to 215 million.  The encouraged combination of all cultures led to an acceptance of diversity, starlets of all shapes and sizes, and electric-neon-lighted Texico nights.  No bordertowns existed, although the Red River had to be reinforced at times due to frequent Okie annexation uprisings and everything possible was done in Baja to prevent the Californian from unknowingly entering Tijuana.                

No White Lights

g
it's a big
bad
d
ole world.
c
time lapses
mixed
g
with hues.

just a color
sometimes
forgives.

blondes do
have
more fun.

outright definance
can't believe
the words.

thirty seconds
of no
white lights.

gasping for life
because
it's life.

courageousness
true courageousness
scarce.

Letterhead Designs

the heartless bastard.
straining for his fix.
letterhead designs.

diamonds in plastic folders.
looking into the headlights.
dove of serenity.

partly out of desire.
also out of curiosity.
spreading across the plains.

come to roost in the women.
as they protect their lands.
i'm going if you're going.

It's Only Sleep

only when politics were considered did it all go south
expectations and stands
living with only the mad became irrational

people littered the floors
dreams unrealized, like they always are. and should be.
dissappointment follows followed by a forgetting

the forgetting was the best part. expectations gone.
back to the source of life
understanding and learning

not everyone has to be a teacher all the time
as if it were even possible
appreciation does have it's charms

and people deserve the opportunity to be appreciative
gratfulness in such short supply
but expectations return and it begins again

worry when there are no expectations
never to be remembered
choose your sleepless nights wisely

they indicate some needed action
the noises this time of morning!
it's only sleep

Long Johns

admiring the screaming, yelling, and tight-fisted resolve. will be even more entertaining when the winter storms come. maybe we could set up a paint ball war on the plains of nebraska (about the middle of the country, seems like) between the tp and ows folks. i can see it now, everyone checking their smart phones for official surrender, hoping to hell it comes quick cause most have to get back to work (or be fired) cause they used up their sick days and vacation. a common complaint likely heard from both sides on the field of battle. "Ouch!, that paintball really stings. hey man, can't you see i've already been shot. i'm on base." maybe we could call in the Oxygen Channel to sponsor it and pick up the bill for production costs. a reality show.


i love the singers, especially the guitar pickers, and the repeat speeches are cool. however, one piece of advice for the ows crowd, you should avoid making comparisons to the late 60's...just avoid it. in hindsight, the baby boomer's self defining era, produced a bunch of bull shit>>>

**70's...death of rock and roll. disco gets blamed, but it was more of a response to death. a grieving. high point of the divorce rate. no self respecting lady will put up with free love for long. oil lines and the beginnings of arab/american conflict and business ventures. jimmy carter (billy beer being a delightful suprise).

**80's...can we go ahead and settle this right now? prince is better than michael jackson. and was. big malls. economy dependent on Christmas sales. Jesus would really dig that, hmm. hollywood invades the white house. and why not? air traffic controllers everywhere..all together now.."reagan was a punk!"

**90's...the lamest president ever sullied the cigar industry. and the white house. grunge died too soon. bush sr. wimped out at the kuwait border. and raised our taxes. we should have voted in perot. he woulda told the saudis off long ago and bin laden would have died before y2k. the internet is cool.

**00's...idea. gwb and algore could lead the forces in the beforementioned paintball war between tp and ows. kinda like a reunion of the 2000 election battle. they could use smart phones, of course, from their own homes. both known for inspiring words. figureheads, really, to fire up the troops. 9/11 was a damned shame. however, we rose from the ashes and everybody, everywhere got a mortgage. job or no job. nashville really choked. public radio (91.7 in dallas) the only real place to hear music. no thumbs up or down desired, or needed.

other than that our boomer generation, the generation after the greatest generation, had a spontaneous plea for 'peace' in the late sixties and disappointed themselves, and others, ever since. the old folks need to move along now and let the Xers clean up the mess. we know we're not getting no Social Security until we get to be 80. so keep on screaming, yelling, and standing strong owsers. you tp folks too. money will dictate the beginning and end of everything to come on this planet as long as it's around. like earth's constant truth from the beginning. i'd rather have some than not, but we'll all be tested in prosperity and poverty at some point. suffer, persevere, build character, then hope.

owsers, get yer long johns out!

Howlie

caught a clearance sale and bought two pair
one with checks, one that flared
made sure her sunglasses stayed on tight
cleaned out her closet in the middle of the night

he's a howlie, he don't know it
a howlie, the locals know it
she's a howlie, she's in heat
tanning oil not far from her reach

back bowl blake just got off the lift
nose shining white and warm fingertips
north face leanna with hair in a bun
her miserable eyes protected from the sun

he's a howlie, he don't know it
a howlie, the locals know it
she's a howlie, she's in heat
started to howl at eleven thousand feet

thirteen pockets for his walk in the woods
rainproof boots help him walk like he should
she's over there just a slapping at the bugs
got no king size beds or persian rugs

he's a howlie, he don't know it
a howlie, the locals know it
she's a howlie, she's in heat
she screamed out loud down by the creek

e
a
e
aage

Nunchucks

the clawing and burning make-believe world of our imaginations.
drawing the boundries of everything we decide to hold close and dear.
the ending finds us prepared to say 'so long' complete and happy.
questions all answered with only history to determine worthiness.

all the giants and monsters curling in corners and hiding their eyes.
knowing full well the damage caused and the hearts ripped in two.
for them comes judgement and the electrocutions and hangings.
guilty as a beggarman with a rolex and two pairs of nunchucks.

the righteous wail and moan for the lost souls of charming ignorance.
amusement hounds and infinity seekers clamour and flee the law.
cool winds calm the cabin and smells of pine and roasted porkchops rise.
a particularly flavorful piece cut from the rack above the coals and ash.

Call The Number on Tuesdays

plenty of times we drank until 2
always waiting for the next gag
slowing down to back over the damage
next time that dude'll think twice

carry a crowbar under the driver's seat
pull it out if you need to back 'em up
be ready for a bloody nose and knuckle wounds
be ready to let the adrenaline loose

flung women around and went for gold
realizing the tradgedy that was inevitable
racing over rocks and rivers and pavement
scabs are shed and ligaments jarred

don't get the shakedown over in new mexico
those border bums paid by the speeders
felt like the fix was in in texline
sorry 'bout the cancer, call the number on tuesdays

Lived My Blues

no one has ever walked in my shoes
felt the vast deperation of the void
no one has ever lived my blues
been provoked and annoyed
no one has ever seen the visions i have
paradise awaits the perseverers
no one has ever heard my real laugh
until i convince them to look in the mirror

Losses Not Yet Lost

behind our faces we shutter
so lonely those nights
knowing the road of glass shards awaits
cuts and blood and slices and bone

behind our smiles we groan
for the losses not yet lost
the end will find every one of us
sickness and death and toasts and prayers

behind these bars we think
the mind constantly directing
the senses still alive and craving
tasting and hearing and seeing and smelling and touching and balancing

gemgemgemdd

So Many Souls

at the end of the road a liar awaits,
trembling because he knows the deception.
the ease of the believing generation,
ready to have the road paved.
torches atop lion's heads on both sides,
damp surface and hazy air.
no one to plead to but other pleaders,
desperate they look in rags and bare feet.
chains locked around their necks and blood seeping,
every few feet another reaches out.
no doors to be seen as the vastness overwhelms,
so many souls.

Maniacs And Friends

last night i dreamed i forgave everybody for anything ever done anytime before.
there were fathers, brothers, sisters, and mothers, not to mention extended family.
then the people all around -- toilers, drivers, watchers, lovers, maniacs, and friends.
things they did, said, implied, yelled, things they ignored, they insisted, they resisted.

i was talking with each of them individually, taking my time, and we were committed.
nods and shakes, aknowledgments accepted and replaced with a debt of some sort.
a responsibility to forgive others in the same manner, slate picked clean and put up.
minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, and generations will pass either way.

Combed And Combed

yesterday she asked my how my day was
told her the same thing as the day before
'things are good'
the other morning her silky hair, combed and combed,
seemed to wave at me as she passed
'things are good'
perfectly shaped eyebrows above gushing blue
the oval shaped face full of beaming smiles
'things are good'
she'll stomp by tomorrow, some injustice endured
and every few times she'll lean over and glance
'things are good'
we keep the same time, we let it smolder
smoke, smoke, smoke 'til it catches again
'things are good'

Blizzard

bam! bam!..it was fast
just like that
gone, but not quite forgotten
the stillness of the memories
faces hiding from each other
showing us our own fleeting lives
a blizzard hit last night
everything is white and calm now
like a cover
between what used to be and what will be
the full range of heartbreak
and joy

No More Than A Trinity

communication by words or facial expressions
using inflexion in your presentation

eye contact takes turns, following a reasonable flow
important points accented by hand gestures

a heading, tell them what you are about to tell them, or ask them
delivery is the case for needing or wanting this communication

a summary, tell them what you told them, or asked of them
talking points the same throughout and no more than a trinity

followed by the written expansion, a better audience is curious
let the content be the offer, audience be the judge

if followup is needed, failure is validated
action items restated, with deadlines and expectations.

Various Noisemakers

saw maw at the hootnhanny,
fired up and mean
said twenty of her chickens went missing
and 'someone was gonna git it'.
the room stood still,
except for the curtins near an open window
waving white like a surrender
instruments stopped and dancers unimbraced.
'who d' hell you think you are?', wanting no response
'comin' up in here takin' my chickins,
you need some food, i'll cook you up some livers,
but my babies eat the chickins'.
a rush of ease hit the room,
maw seemed more relaxed, more forgiving than when she entered
suddenly, a man stepped forward and confessed.
'i's sorry miss dessie, i reck'n it was me who took them chickins'
maw came over to the man, the room quieted again,
she stood there, nose to nose with the short and ragged looking man.
rage and empathy filled her eyes with tears,
the man stood weakly and awkwardly
wondering if he was going to eat fried livers tonight.
'you a damned sorry excuse for a man, you fool.
had t' go and steal my chickins.
right now i have mind t' punch you out,
oh, i could do it, you know i could do it,
you little man, you burgla', stealin' man,
too layzyy to go git a job.'
she stood there unblinking as his face contorted
and his eyes twithched uncontrollably.
'i's sorry miss dessie, you forgive me?'
she was considering this and the answer was not evident to her.
'i guess i can say i forgives you honey, but you a sorry man.
take those twenty chickins and fry 'em up good'.
looking at me she ordered potatoes to be boiled and loaves of bread.
canned green beans would have to do and iced tea and beer were already abundant.
the music started up, fast and in tune.
a man with a summer suit and straw hat played bluegrass,
sweat pouring off as he beat the stage with both feet,
playing his guitar box with cyclonic precision,
crying blue stories above the noise of the room
children dancing in the front with various noisemakers,
adults sitting close in the dark back, having adult thoughts and laughing.

Abandoned Your Birds

c                  f
living on words
                          c
set fire to your house
                           g
abandoned your birds
                                 c
forgot to let your dog out


f                                                         c
and it's a damned good thing to write about
all the smoke, all the flames, all the char
and it's a shame we never seem to read about
g                           f                             c
the way these damned old people really are

living on words
set fire to your house
abandoned your birds
forgot to let your dog out

and it's a damned good thing to talk about
they all seemed to get wrecked at woodstock
then blew the banks and the earth to smitherens
the way these damned old people really are

living on words
set fire to your house
abandoned your birds
forgot to let your dog out

Seven Full Minutes

wish of dreams like that
the kind that make you write
the kind that make you sweat
the kind that make you hurt

wish of quakes like that
the kind that rumble
the kind that shake
the kind that lasts for seven full minutes

wish of sounds like that
the kind that breath with you
the kind that live in you
the kind that comes from you

wish of skin like that
the kind that is smooth
the kind that is wet
the kind with nerves

wish of love like that
the kind that gives
the kind that saves
the kind that last for seven full minutes

Halter Tops

perked up by halter tops and tight jeans
the ridiculous cost of it all
holy smokes those girls are beautiful
the long considered placement of curls.

Aim

his aim was unaffected by the heavy breathing

he lay on his stomach arms propping a gun

butt imbeded in his shoulder firmly

peering through the scope a monster arises

the moment of justice and responsibility

through training he learned the best methods

squeezing the trigger with constant pressure

the scope revealed the removal of another

Mosquito Vulgarities

well, the time i went over to the bar near the strand,
the one by the halo sign, i encountered a mosquito.
standing outside, looking for drink specials.
he was a huge mother! bigger than a dragonfly!
he sat on my arm a minute, seemed like, and buzzed.
a sound i've heard before, and would after. loud it was.
louder, i mean, than normal. with a healthy looking tail,
full of blood i suspected.
thought it was too hot for mosquitos, but it had rained.
i didn't trust this mosquito and knew he, or she, would strike.

the blood suckin' led me to decide it was female.
to my misfortune, i failed to act in my defense,
probably due to misguided empathy.
after a sharp pain, the vulgarity, and a late slap,
immediately a rising, iching, wound appeared.
knowing the days of discomfort to come,
another vulgarity was released,
and then a rush to the indoors, into the bar.
the bartender provided a cube of ice,
and a drop of tequila soothed before and after the shot.

High Tides

millions, billions, and trillions of waves
raging through the ocean.

each one very distinct
each one deadly and beautiful.

he took on the ones coming towards him
punching them wildly and triumphantly.

salt water in his mouth and nostrils flared
gasping for breath before the next one arrives.

high tides.

Dogs Barked In The Distance

she felt his wisdom was manufactured
a calculated response to her misunderstandings
little did she know, he was a wanderer
walking the hills above the city in a desperate search
for he knew everything was bullshit
that it would all change and never be the same
regardless of his wishes and dreams
of a frozen world, a frozen moment
happy couples were miserable
relaxation was fleeting and forced
prayers were offered by habit
and dogs barked in the distance

Brave, Brave Sinner

brave, brave sinner
gets the fixes despite the pains
stays out late in hopes of stranger love
washes her feet in the muddy rain

brave, brave sinner
holds my heart in her trembling hands
shimmering tension of ungiven love
the cravings we both understand

brave, brave sinner
sleeping in your eyes of blue
glossy lips and walks of dignity
cold shoulder and nothing i can do

brave, brave sinner
soft music and bright, breezy scenes
you and me and no clocks around
our love together goes unseen

dd7g
cg
dd7g
cgd

Suburban Ghetto

a slow burner
white linen shirt soaked
pounding on the stage
each foot just keeping the beat
one, boom boom
one, boom boom
waltzes and 4/4 time
brown felt hat, sharp rim
yells from the cooks
to the cooks!
shoulda turned the radio to 91.7
that nashville sound sucks
a suburban ghetto
catering vans lined the back rows
breaking news and day counters
on a 96 magnavox
the music rises at 6
no breaks til after 8
welcome the friday night meat eaters
make the kiddos dance
tell stories of west texas girls
and late night lake drives
hoboken jail songs and harps
another year for lorrine
might as well keep on writin'
merle and willie
pancho and lefty
visions of johanna
paid in the stomach
tips to spend
lights to cut
a final nod

Mason Jar Company

later in the afternoon
between lulls and second winds
a toast was made
to the mason jar company
the toils and sweats
the constant orderings
regrets and sorrows offered
acknowledged forever

Before The Final Howl

in an instant
out of the bounds.
over the ridge
under the kept grass.
through a stain glass
around the other side.
after the rain comes
before the final howl.
in between, we suffer
but suffering, if endured,
produces perseverance.
then the character, then the hope.
the constant hope
as we speed through space,
sleeping and in worry,
our significance hangs,
teetering on a balance beam.
awkward and unsure, it hangs.
harlot's eyes, wanting
another day in her life.

Reformation Complainers

alterations pending,
the something from nothing
began in another universe
decided to create
experiements are critical
souls were given
and enhanced
an initial burst of love
then the fighting
arguing as profession
even the church
reformation complainers
the souls must be fed
from the earth
mothers mostly
always a woman
during the last steps

perseverance will produce
constant hope
hope for glimpses of peace
like it will be like
some days you take for yourself
because you have to
edit, seperate thoughts
to wander or release
you wonder these things
depending on the lighting
give your nose a shot
head in your hands
slumped over and pleading
smell of mexican winds
just lit morning
some peace, some peace
refine, celebrate the steps

Scared Of Gettin' Wet

been a drought on for weeks and weeks
grass is brown, lakes are dwindling
suddenly, a steady rainstorm
the rain dances worked!
dust on the wipers made mud on the front glass
in the parking lot they ran for cover
like each raindrop was a stray bullet
people scared of gettin' wet

A Gathering Of Fools

a gathering of fools
been beaten, they been used
the joker wears a rip torn frown

the king flips and flops
junior blows his top
and the smoke keeps coming around

the queen snubs her nose
goes on afternoon strolls
in her slippers and silky red gown

the battle lines drawn
all the warriors sing songs
and the smoke keeps coming around

Rodeo Night In Texas

free hats for the kids, if that traffic jam would clear up. always late out the door, even for her first rodeo. one road in. ticket window was jammed, the cashier explaining the policy on corral seating. free hats indeed, larger sizes for the bigger kids. right then and there we asked a man about our tickets. he pointed all the way down to the far end of the arena and told us where we could sit. we found a good spot eventually and settled in. me and my chicks. the atmosphere was electrified and chicken fried. smell of a rodeo.  red, soft, dirt covered the arena, seats and fences framing the dusty stage. cowboys came and did their rodeoing. bucking, roping, tieing, chasing, lassoing, limping, and hurting. cowgirls too. riding fast. 15.42 seconds took first place. that girl from oklahoma was ticked. the little bulls bucked the girl riders quick. they even got interviews and introductions. must be something--and rare--to see a cowgirl on a bull. the men got the big bulls. bones, tendons, ligaments, muscles all tested severly and misguidedly.  that dude from stephensville rode to the end, chatty and victorious. not sure of the overall winner, looked like there were several, but those cowboys and cowgirl earned thier money if they won any. and the losers don't get a dime.  we rooted for the locals.  all were athletes, especially the animals, and they let the buckers run free at the end to constant applause and spotlights.  another guy in red, white, and blue rode two horses at once. the clowns sure have changed from when i remember. the clown was a clown and that is not a compliment. the announcer was good. as they always are at the rodeo. at 10, the lights were cut and a rush to the trucks. rodeo night in texas.

Liars On A Dirt Road

walked right up to the property line
peered into the woods, over the fence line
not supposed to walk on the other side
went through and crossed over
felt heavy, like the world was watching
dead leaves breaking beneath my feet
steps were taken slowly and arms cleared the brush
shaded from the seering heat of the day, but no wind
head cloth soaked with sweat, cotten shirt drenched
looked up and saw a pond of water
surrounded by mesquite trees and hoof prints
muddy water tasted like liars on a dirt road

Freedom, The Broken Dream

freedom, holiday weekends
freedom, pantry full
freedom, late sleepin'
freedom, plush carpet

freedom, back 5 acres
freedom, hula dancers
freedom, farmer's market
freedom, matching dresses

freedom, greased up cutters
freedom, polished belt buckles
freedom, hand made gift bags
freedom, homemade ice cream

freedom, slow mondays
freedom, poetry readings
freedom, telecaster slide
freedom, free verse

freedom, hand on your heart
freedom, hopeless lover
freedom, house maid glances
freedom, silent family

Old Mandolin

thinking of rain boots in the snow
thirsty dogs around, licking up the puddles on the inside
was told the slide was off, but it sounded good to me.

brought the piano up on the final draft
that nashville song really turned into something
the hands smashed in the crash.

cutting up that bird at five a.m. had to be written down
boyish crushes and the scraps in the yard
sing this one for the cooks...to the cooks!

already praying for help, the blues again
jefferson would likely answer with a question
civil war stories, when being a winner was tough.

been everywhere in the world with a gun or a machete
pure revenge and eye for eye, the tooth takes it's flesh
a horn, like a tuba or a trombone, is missing.

nonfiction is dominate, but not absolute
slide player plays mandolin too, an old mandolin
the tag on the end, from the leprechaun's mind.

guy clark talking songs, preacherman by the end
serving strategies down the middle, painting the line
view from the moon, the helium view.

between good ole days and the end of the world
say old men who lived their lives and have regret
it's their end of the world and they were good ole days for them.

this is our time.

gdcg
cdemc
gdcg
emgriff

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