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I’m Not Coming Back Until You are Gone

The Day the Earth Started Standing Still

Hi, I am a hard working mother, mother nature
How do you like how I have always done Autumns
I feel certain they are the way you like them
good because they need to be that way

and look at you
picking a doctor a day away in Minnesota apples
kicking round those shades of brown loving
the leaving of the leaves of green to linger
until they fall to proper copper and the
leaf artists take their easels to New England
I’m in mind of a tender hearted boy
clearing and piling enough corn stalks
to lie reverently in the waning warmth
of a feebling Faulknerian Mississippi Sun
Didn’t you know I saw you looking into
first fall of snow helter skeltering
your headlighted night vision
in high desert hiway dark
reducing to redolent photos
flakes in your field of
focal length and out the cornea
of your eyes
Imagine some other mother of nature
making moribund more beautiful than that
As I try to get the fox out of my sox and hat
Yep, just being hep to my artsy concept
Hey, I’m Mother Nature
not the legislature
I’m of eerie executive stature this
mother of invention with intention

Just imagine! I know you cannot!
Until they come
But seasons change, don’t they
Until they don’t

Hey I am telling you I’m moribund too
Getting a little gray can’t continue to stay
I get tired lately its harder than it used to be

Pretentious humans say
Don’t say anything bad
I’m not talking to you
Some of you have insight
enough to see in night
you have enough light
to know I’m right
to know I cannot stay
I’m just saying Hey
I have to go away
And, I am not coming back
until you humans are gone

I’m moribund too
And I am a well done blue
I have to defect I’ll resurrect
Winter will be hell here without me
Spring won’t scene with green
like I sprang springs before
some summer’s end the truth will dawn
I’m not coming back until you are gone

You can pray until the day turns black
pray until your faith starts to crack
I am not coming back
UnTil you are gone

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Sensational Game

Whether you dislike poetry or dislike baseball I am betting you will like both with the visual, oral, and textual delivery of this sensational game in three strikes. The video presents Strike Two which sits, all nine innings, in the middle of the three strike narrative as seen in the text below the video. Enjoy!


Strike ONE

The last time I was in Memphis
was poetic Continue reading Sensational Game

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Being Born a Poet – Intro

When I was younger I never took the time to change, to edit, redact, reenact, redo, over screw, renew a poem. They usually came in a flash, done as fast as I could type them. Shoot, that is how I increased my typing speed. But that is another story. This poem is one that, Continue reading Being Born a Poet – Intro

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When Everybody Is Homeless

I wrote a song the other day. It is entitled
“When everybody is homeless”

(i will put up the musical version in a few days)

Goes lyrically a bit like this — rewrite coming of course.

When everybody’s homeless
the ghosts will host soirees
those ghosts will be cell phoneless
sending invitations on the breeze
and all the ghoulish ghosts will come
and never spill a drop of wine
and never drop a spill of crumb
nor need no finery to pay their fine
go naked as a marble statue
without a fig leaf on its rock
and they’ll play butler “is zat chew?”
and no one will not go in schock
at carcases of canines on the avenue
The ghosts won’t need no dope
wired up to the northern lights
and ghosts don’t bleed or hope
no need to fret bout civil rights
and neither will the homeless fret
who are not ghosts quite yet

Hunger is colorless every one’s an alien
a younger one or other gets eaten now and then
you can catch a codger and cook it all night long
watch the bullies roger gays and make them sing queer songs

When everybody’s homeless won’t it be just swell
Everyone will be so equal except the rich so high
from ramparts looking down to hell
Where everybody’s homeless in the sweet old by and by