"When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses, for art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgment." - John F. Kennedy

Thanks for finding me. This is a fairly random sampling of my poetic rumblings beginning in the mid-70s to present day. Not definitive or complete, just things that struck me again for one reason or another on revisiting. There are a couple of previously published collections here which might be good places to start if you are diving in blind from the precipice.

Try the collections MEET THE BEATS or GLIMMERING RAY DUET (both archived in June 2008 in the menu below right) for starters if you are so inclined...

As of 2016, I will be publishing my song lyrics on a seperate page from the more poetic scribblings here. Pieces that first appeared here and then later were arranged for music will remain here in their original form but may appear edited on the lyric page. Check out the links section for the original song blog.
Showing posts with label reflection. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reflection. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 20, 2012

COLLECTING YOU


Like Lespere
I hold my memories
To my chest
Boxes
Volumes
Moments
Words
Song
Trysts
Scandals
Tiny
Small
Breaths
And observations
From
Afar
Across rooms
Tables
Galaxies.

And
Still
You
Sit there
Not knowing
Just 
Exactly
What
You
Feel.

~ Road Runner Club, Borrego Springs, CA – 6/20/12
previously unpublished. Dedicated to Ray Bradbury.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Get Me Outta/Into Here

he only wants to be a ghost
observe but not be seen
a moment to be left alone
oh, such a frightening thing.
he only wants to be embraced
by everyone he meets
to make his mark, an egotist
a legend on the streets.

to burn all of the telephones
all books and magazines
tell no one your secret name
or any other things.
save it all up, held inside
or maybe on this page.
keep it deep, all bottled up
and never act your rage.

or else you might just change your tune
and open up your heart
and let that person rise in you
t'was there right from the start.
write shitty songs and poetry
that tears apart your soul
and if you really can't resist
it just might make you whole.

- 6/24/96 possible lyric??

Rails

Rails
against the sun
steel glimmer fading fast
Rails
whose time has come
whose time was in the past
Rails
who changed the nation's face
shrinking large from vast
Rails
whose labored beds built from blood & sweat
men from harsher worlds worked harder still and yet
Rails
transport the myth, the gold, the crop, the seed
the legend of the West, the locomotive steed
Rails
lull me to sleep,
the click commits the clack
Rails
infect my dreams
where, never coming back
Rails
rode the hips of hills
the stockyards. Neal and Jack.
Rails
glisten in the blazing sun
whistle in the rain
Rails
away from here we run
Rails
...freedom on the train.

- 7/1/96 4:10-4:12 PM on the Express train to NYC from Wilmington

RAILS was also published in the poetry zine, A Hindu, A Buddhist & A Lion Tamer #2 (Folcroft, PA 1996)

Es Per Rondo

Waiting...
...to be born
...to be fed
...to be torn
...to be bled
...to be changed
...to grow-up
...to be deranged
...to giddy-yup
...for Christmas
...for a sale
...on the Isthmus
...by the rail
...for your birthday
...to be kissed
...'til next Earth Day
...to be missed
...for your touch
...to make love
...for a crutch
...for a glove
...for the answer
...for your turn
...to ask questions
...for to learn
...to bite your breasts
..to taste your skin
..to pass your test
..to let you in
..to sigh a sigh
..to catch your eye
..to see you naked body there before me as I cry
...for you to pinch my meager ass, stroke my gentle arm, touch your tongue to mine, whisper in my ear, lift your sublime porcelain neck to my gliding fingertip,
give me "The Look" when I stare into your eyes with all the love pouring out of my gushing soul like a song born of the desert wind, just give me a bit of your time and passion, love and kindness...your sympathy, trust, respect and care...
...to hear your laughter tickle my ears
...to taste your raspberry heart, your strawberry lips
...to give you the world, one tingle at a time, all the tastes, touches, smells, sounds, sights, places, things, wants, needs, surprises, compliments, advice, insights, bright lights, all the midnights that you can fathom
...to watch you dance
...for my last chance
...to bury my face
in your memory

-- 7/8/96 (this re-edit: 10/24/10)