Erin on Sirius

Erin looks cold
She could use a hot bath,
and if she can afford it,
a week's vacation--she's doing the math.

She saw a comet when she was 17
Nowadays it's somewhere between her eyes and her brain.
She needs someone to talk to about it.
If you sit and listen it's like spending the afternoon in the star system Sirius.
You'll see her eyes brighten and the atmosphere notch up it's oxygen count.

It's a place where war hasn't been invented, she surmises,
and children awaken to Sun rises.
Each day filled with surprises
like the comet she saw when she was 17.

Pun-able

He was condemned to live unenlightened for reasons that could not be enumerated until eventually forgetting to duck and getting hit by the Big Bang on it's return flight.
That put the kibosh to the theories that the world had to function as either a tear jerker or a chain yanker.
But he hadn't ruled out practical joker.

Up to that point he feasted on bait placed where his nose could detect it.
Then the atmospheric pressure shifted
and he wound up ship wrecked and shacked up with a goddess playing a guessing game with his gamble.

He could still hear the traffic from the old neighborhood , but his vision was blurred
so he beheld with his ears
until his words spontaneously broke out in song.
Giants who couldn't stop laughing picked him up and tossed him,
and then caught him.

For a time he thought he was invulnerable,
but even blind with a mind out of alignment
he prepared himself for paradise recyclable and perpetually pun-able.

could trigger

Oppenheimer's ghost tries combinations on Pandora's box
He still believes you can break into infinity.
He makes the rounds in a greyscale Hades,
still symbol crazy
carrying a laptop with a key board, but minus a monitor.

He quotes the Bhagavad Gita to anyone who will listen
but they all stay clear cuz he never showers
He wants to be rescued
and watches the sky for flying saucers.

He's gone down hill with his box of prescription pills
dreaming of the days he wrestled with wave forms
and those mornings the sky came down to meet his eyes---
the days he felt just one more calculation could trigger a transformation.

An Old Flame

Right from the start you went straight to my heart.

We meet
You smile , your eyes instigating,
touching me with light, lifting me off the floor,
a stunt I never tried before.
I loved you on the spot.

words make it to my tongue's tip,
get stuck
my eyes had to tell it all.
You read me
We immix in elements only evident to lovers.

We touch and tell and take a tumble
time blind ,
for me the first time rhythmic on an arrhythmic sea
on a slow boat on a surging sea.
It moved you and me.

Right from the start I went straight to your heart.

Days of Ones and Zeros

there's a purgatory side effect rising over the neighborhood,
getting near to a collision with
the breath of spring--- which you can hear when the hissers run out of stings.
Doped up on ignorance
they don't get the zing

the measures they inflict, easily predicted
but the cost of ducking for cover can push you over the credit limit.

The functions needed to get synchronized with the human hum---sounds you don't hear from the dead--
severely restricted by hornets nests coded deep into emotional intelligence.
Here comes the utopia crashers who can't read road signs
and usually miss the exit to where you are known by your sub-cellular flashes.

The apple of the Earth's eye bigger than the hole in the ozone
but the appended delusions jump for psychological cover stories
and miss the blooms circling the days of doom.
They're busy practicing poses.

Blooms competing with the purgatory hues as seen by mad scientists who've taken a tumble into the moving parts of the abstract ones and zeros they continuously fumble.

Lineup at the Coffee Shop.

after the car crash we were frazzled and unfocused
so we went for a coffee
i told the waiter 2 cream 1 sugar
he got it mixed up
he had a face that reminded me of vinegar
underpaid underclass and not hiding the
humiliation of wearing a two tone beige shirt and hat
so I tried to make a joke about the mundaneness while deciding on a donut
but the lineup was long and there was no time to chat.
The azure eyed girl paid and took her coffee and blueberry muffin
She sang under breath that line from Girls Just Wanna Have Fun
That just made the server more sour.
The guy behind me gave me an evil looking query
I imagined he was carrying a concealed gun
and got out of there in a hurry;
spilt half my coffee.

Driving in a Dream

In my head was the echo of Sigmund Freud saying:"America is a mistake, a giant mistake."
I couldn't disagree and added it to my list,
but I had to watch the road before I went into a skid.
What point Sigmund was making I'm not exactly sure
so I googled it in my head and got pop ups galore.

I looked over beside and saw the girl who'd made the trip with me
She looked different, her eyes more azure.
I thought maybe someone at the party had poisoned her
but then she came around telling stories about her older sister.
At that point I happened to look into the rear view mirror

I saw the sister in a Lincoln coming up fast ,
looked like her hair was on fire.
Needless to say I hit the accelerator,
ended upside down off the road
and I could hear the choir.

Threats

The attempt to understand the meaning or rather relevance of the soul when those who brand themselves as civilized turn out to be the savages,
well that can be a shock right out of Alfred Hitchcock, questioning the logic of existence
questioning the the essential qualities that feed our visions
trying to get a handle on what deformity, what mental twist keeps minds smirking
pleased by the mental processes
pleased by the threats of experts in and out of uniform.

All those organs thrown together, toned by modern technology, but with a few missing theorems,
resulting in troubles for the attributes attempting to network into a human being.
And on the tongue an unsatisfying after taste reminiscent of eating too much candy and still obsessing for something sweet.

it's hard to maintain any good will when, when what's called for , by the leashed minds of academia and the trickle down second guessers
is more flag raising and wrapping in 24/7 manipulating,

manufacturing morals with a steely eye
and the mechanisms of myth as hard as steel tipped toes that don't trip softly through through the hinterlands with the resources required for the obsessions pounding like a migraine in the heads of the assigned bureaucrats.

yes something is missing and given directions by slippery lipped doctrine,
something that defies the magic of the markets,
unless you want to consider polarity a market mechanism, which you probably should.
Its as plain as the mind mapping that lingers in the nose of those exposed to policies taking a fascistic journey through their neighborhoods.

Take our own home nurtured Napoleon
Under educated in everything except how to release the hatchet to the head of the opposition
Get close and you'll be maybe overcome by the paranoia emitting from his pores and applied to the laws jingling along to another mini Apocalypse.

This ignorance is heart breaking and gets the tumultuous results expected
Greed sold as sound economic principles , hate sold as national security that a mature Jesus would have initiated
They got the stats if you got the bad habit of believing the numbers issued with the threats.

that at least is clear

The big ogres down in Washington
and the little ogres in Ottawa
they shower daily
careful not to give off the essence of outlaws

they've kissed the law books
and they got kissed back
living a lie like taming a pet rattlesnake
but there's no getting rid of the venom grins before the attacks.

I avoid them when I can
but their agents are everywhere
doing their duty
that at least is clear.

transformation dreams

They're wearing T shirts with quotes of Thomas Jefferson,
in the casinos they've lost track of time
security is beefed up at the airports
on CNN they debate what's a war crime.
The bankers are in the background
they have the legal tender touch
switched on and digital
well dressed and flush.
The security captains keep the apparatus clean from deviation
and give the word to beat it back to the norm
but some people are natural born abnormal
with heads they'd like to transform.

spring morning

this is is place where the plotters all gather
and put a face on their bitterness
But that doesn't sync with the spring morning with the birds chirping
the song of a new season.

the children realized it too

the children realized it too
the walls were dirty and streaked with blood that wouldn't wash off
his son's blood from one night the liberators came calling

he had procured some paint and moved the furniture away from the walls
but he heard the aircraft and the explosions in the distance
and hesitated and considered just putting the can of paint down and sitting in his chair in the corner to wait for paradise to come to him.
In another corner his grandchildren cringed frightened
There was no better place to hide
The rockets could get you anywhere.

the color of the paint was mauve
he opened it with a nail and dipped the brush in
he went to the wall where the the blood was streaked and began painting over it
Stepping back he had a look and realized he'd need to prime it
the children looked up
they realized what their grandfather realized
and they were frightened.

--------------------------------
Now when he heard the word liberty it made him queasy.
Equality and fraternity,
concepts his cousin who'd been a student in Paris got hot about,
like the stories of paradise he'd read to the children.