#212 Lions

Two lions

Standing tall

Standing sentry

Over all

On either side of the great gate

With unobstructed view

Of road and courtyard

Eyes looking through you

Stone faced and cold

Ever present

So very old

Their gaze dripping resentment

Your presence is not to their liking

They watched you approaching on the old road

Their rocky facades crack

As they bound from their perch

You fear being made a snack

Their paws stalk the earth

Heavier than a real lions

Leaving deep prints in their wake

Your manhood hides in your loins     

Backing away slowly

As they steadily advance

The right one roars

A stone silent roar

The left slowly flanks you

Not leaving you much chance

Tripping backwards over a stone

You sit up quickly ready to run

Blinking the sweat out of your eyes

What you see catches your breath

All is as it was

The lions high on their perch

Eyes piercing you

Undressing you

Reading you

Forbidding you entrance

To their realm

#211 Is Broken

A long pale once silken hair

Brittle from the sun

Malnourishment and lack of care

Lying on the floor

Cast aside

Snapped off at the root

Broken

As the horse that once roamed free

Spirit as wild as can be

Running towards the horizon

Endlessly

Captured by a noose

Branded by fire

Tied tethered saddled

Broken

Shining steel flashing in the sun

Held by the master

Who wielded the hammer

Folded a thousand times

A weapon of no match

Until colliding with that axe

Snapped

Covered in blood

Broken

Gaily painted pressed tin

Once the apple of a child's eye

I marched within

The endless realm of his bedroom

A wind up soldier with a key

Left laying carelessly

Stepped upon with a curse

My clockworks spilling out

Broken

A brown spirit flitting in the woods

I flash my white tail before I leap

I run gracefully towards the lake

Without a thought I burst from the trees

Smashed by a truck

My legs are crushed

I lay on the pavement bleeding

Never to rise again

Broken

Happy and without a care

Braving strange things just for the experience

Shaking hands smiling and making love

The world is an adventure

Until the spirit was torn

By cruelty and scorn

Now a wallflower living in a basement

Scared to go outside

Broken

#210 Bends

I bend

To the wind

It pushes me where it will

I lean and twist

This way and that

Like a tortured weather vane

Wearing white striped socks

I bend

As a dogleg

A right hand turn

In the course of the river

A whirlpool at the corner

You’ll gather up speed

As you fly down the water

In your tube

Drinking beer

I bend

Only so far

Before I break

I’m strong

But brittle

It’s not something I can fake

Oh you can try

And you will

But as you put the pressure on

My face will stay stony and still

I bend

To your will

I’m pliable

Like putty

You can shape me for any purpose

Whether noble

Or ill

Am I the perfect tool for any job?

Or am I undependable

Because of my lack of rigidity

Only you can decide

I am your Silly Putty

#209 Is the Church of the We

I pray to the mighty amoeba

That my day will go well

His polka dots and sun spots

Reflect the best and worst in me

It is my God

It is the mighty We

Ye, it came to pass

That the mighty amoeba

Did come to the tide pool

At the beginning of time

From whence all things did come

On a fiery finger

Did amoeba arrive

From the heavens

To our world

Which it saw was good

It's soft pink body

So decorated with the blue polka dots

Acquired many sun spots

From being out without SPF 60

Learning that, it did create the sunscreen

Whence moderation in all things

Was called a goodness

It looked around

And saw much to do

And so

The amoeba divided

And divided again

Giving our world life

A precious gift

And for this

I worship the Holy We

It is the We

Because it is in me

And you

And everyone

And everything

The We permeates

It gives insight

Into the all

That we all came from

The might amoeba

Referred to as The We

Does not like broccoli

It is the one creation

That turned upon The We

Gave it indigestion

Causing great gaseous emissions

To pour forth from it's holy self

And for that

We do shun the broccoli

So it is written

So mote it be

#208 Is Crowned

Come

Come and see

Wonders and horrors

No shortage of either

Under the big blue top

Spinning so fast you'll lose your balance

About a second before you lose your head

You'll be crowned the king of fools

And the crown that you wear

Shall start to wear you

And you'll change

The who that you are

Will become the what

Your actions

Exponentially

Louder than

Words

#207 Underbed

It’s dark

As it should be in underbed

Sometimes the light shines in

Some ankles walk by

But then it is dark again

By any standards

That’s a good thing

Dust bunnies cling to surfaces

Here and there

Some stuck in my hair

I sometimes eat them for fun

I’ve discovered they can taste different

Must be the different flavors

Of dust and hair

That they’ve become

I lay around a lot

It’s what makes me happy

In the land of underbed

Scratching my hairy belly

While I stare up at the bottom of your bed

Sometimes snacks appear

Like flotsam on the beach after a storm

A half eaten banana here

A not quite empty yogurt container there

Thank goodness you are not a tidy person

I’d never get anything good to snack on

At night I think about coming out

Sometimes I do

But it scares you

So I usually don’t

I need things though

So Soon I may have to brave it

The big wide world outside

Of the realm of underbed

I’m getting to that age

Where I feel the urge to take a mate

Sometimes I wonder

If there are even others like me

I’ve never seen any

Just you

And your ankles

I’m putting together a kit

From some old socks you left

I have some half eaten snacks

And lots of dust bunnies

They will sustain me on my journey

I hope I don’t have to go far though

There is something in the back of my head

That tells me there are others

Other creatures, possible mates

Who dwell in darkness

In other realms of underbed

#206 Is Water

Water

Holds many secrets

Which are always changing

Fluid and dynamic

Uncompressable

Strong as steel

Yet adaptive

And flowing

Around every obstacle

The river bend

Becomes straight

Given enough time

Water will change it

In the long run

Adapting

In the short

Water holds religion

It baptizes the faithful flesh

Fills them full to brimming

Yet washes away

Leaving no evidence

To rely upon

Water holds life

Things seen and unseen

Living in it's semi-solid mass

Living and dying

Beneath notice

Above reproach

Water is life

It sustains

It fills

It replenishes

Water is death

When it encloses around you

Silent and dark

As any tomb

Water holds many secrets

Only one of which

Is you

#205 Cleaning up After

The purging of a life

Is not such an easy thing

Lots of loose ends hanging

Waiting to be snipped

Physical and emotional strings

Some bills over here

Some unfinished letter there

Things that were meant to be done

Left halfway

By the originator

Now in the ground

A family tree project

Started in good faith

Names, dates, details

Scribbled on the worksheets

Now probably never to be finished

But put in the 'save' pile

Just in case some son or daughter wants to

A list of accounts and passwords

Everyone has one

Unless you are Rainman

Which is possible

And no offense

Which accounts to keep?

The widow doesn't know

Will she ever Ebay again?

I can't advise her

I had to show her how to use email

Earlier today

And so does it go

Most of it, his things he liked to keep track of:

His hobbies

His accounts

His lists

His toy trains

Loved since he was a boy

Sitting in their special room

Grandpa's special toys

They will gather dust in his absence

His Accounts

Kept to the penny

Going back 50 years

He knew where he'd been

And had a plan of where to go

The money was placed just so

Lists of assets and liabilities

Collections in the basement

Things owned in the past

Dates purchased and sold

Approximate values

Based on what, I do not know

The flim flam and snippets of a life

Left behind

For whom I wonder?

The historians?

He wasn't famous for anything

History will forget him soon enough

Eventually everything is gone through

Some things thrown away

Some things given away

Two small boxes are all that are left

To be tucked under a widow's bed

For looking at

On those long winter nights

When she weeps

And wants to remember

That beautiful man that she wed

#204 Lives In Sixty Paces

I’ve been a firefighter

For at least an hour

It’s getting boring

There aren't many fires

Everyone seems to be okay

So I say my goodbyes

And I’m on my way

Sixty paces later

I’m a knight storming a castle

Fighting dragons and dodging arrows

There’s a fair maiden inside

Rescuing needs to be done

Will no one step up to her need?

I shall be the one

After scaling the castle wall

By using my daggers to climb

Slaying the evil wizard

And carrying the princess from her prison

I refuse her kiss (eww)

I take sixty more paces

And end up doing this:

In a shiny new space craft

Flushed with pride at my new job

As a brave astronaut

Floating in outer space

Weightless as can be

Really hanging from a rope

Carefully looped over a tree

I resupply the space station

And fix a few satellites

We've been space-walking a long time

We check our tools and gauges and realize

Our air is getting thinner

Time to reenter the atmosphere

It’s almost time for dinner

I make it sixty paces closer to home

But I have time yet

I pause to race an Indy Car

Faster than all my competitors

I charge hard as they make way

Waving to AJ Foyt

As I pass him on the straightaway

The sun is dipping lower

It’s definitely time to eat

I take the last sixty paces

This time I’m me

I kiss my mom

She looks surprised and asks why

I tell her just because

And help her set the table

She asks how my day was

I tell her of the many jobs I did

As I made my way down the beach

The way the sand felt under my feet

The fun adventures I had

What great kids I did meet

Nothings better than being me though

As I complement mom on another great meal

I'm tired and looking forward to my soft bed already

And dreaming of the things I’ll do for real

#203 Keeps the Monsters Away

I've got this toy

With two metal things

A body made of wood

With a couple of springs

I use it every day

It's fun as heck to play

And most importantly

It keeps the monsters away

They don't like it's clicking

That sound it makes

While I'm winding and it's sticking

And all my pressure is scraping off little flakes

They don't like those either

The flakes I mean

Even more than the clicking

Those flakes just make them turn green

Feel ill they do

Just at the thought

Of dealing with this perfect mess

That I have wrought

For if they come near

To threaten all that I hold dear

I'll click my toy, making sparks

Lighting the flakes of magnesium

Causing the hot white fire that they fear

Yet come they do

Every once in awhile

Testing the waters I suppose

Coming single file

That's part of their pain

Being monsters of little brain

They learn this small lesson

But then forget, they are difficult to train

Away they run as they always do

Every which way they fled

Meandering back

As their courage ebbs back

To take their place as monsters of the underbed

#202 Don't Ask

Don't ask me

What I really think

I might just tell you

In vividly descriptive words

Changing how you feel about me

And make your heart fucking sink

Don't ask me

For directions

I'll send you in circles

A hundred miles out of your way

Just to amuse me

And totally make my day

Don't ask me

What I want to eat

I'll go into a soliloquy

On the nature of food, man, and nature

Why the sky is blue

And why that should matter to you

And you'll never get to order

Don't ask me

If I like those shoes

I'll tell you they make you look slutty

And how much I like that

You'll walk away feeling dirty

Like a whore

Don't ask me

If you can break the rules

I'll ask you if anyone's looking

Including your conscience

Which is the harshest observer

And will keep you up at night

Don't ask me

If that dress makes you look fat

I'll probably tell you yes

Little do you know

That I don't like my women skinny

And your Boticelli-esque form turns me on

Don't ask me

If it's hot enough for me

I'll quietly gather kindling

For a bonfire

Light it and throw you in

And throw that question right back at you

Don't ask me

If I really love you

It will make me cry

If you haven't believed me

The first thousand times I've told you

Then what chance have I

Don't ask me

How I'm doing

I'll do a handstand

My kilt will fall about my chest

And you'll see how I wear it traditionally

You'll shrink from my manhood's funny dance

Don't ask me

What my last words are

They are not for your ears

The blame and regret

Of all my years

Will run circles in my head

Even as I draw my last breath

You don't want to know

#201 Happiness Is

Happiness is

A warm gun

Some fruit stripe gum

Playing twister, with general fun

I define this feeling

As a slight sense of reeling

Of rolling down a long hill

Sliding on a sled wherever you will

I divine the meaning

As a sense of well being

Such as being nude

Covered in kittens

Happiness is seeing yourself

Reflected in the fender

Of your shiny green metallic Schwinn Sting Ray

As you perch on the sparkled banana seat

Smiling for all the world to see

You pedal around

Without a care in the world

Except to listen for the church bells

Telling you it's time for supper

Happiness is a kind of contentment

A safe cuddly feeling

Which is often found

In the arms and body

Of the one you love

Preferably when it isn't too hot

For when it is

I strive for the same feeling

By just looking at them

Happiness is

The sun on your face

Crunchy leaf piles in the fall

Unique snowflakes

Clinging lightly to your eyelashes

As you turn up your face

To watch the first snowfall

It is in moments

Snatched before they are ruined

By someone's comments or guffaw

It is in your heart

Where all good things are kept

Those perfect kittenny cuddly sunshiny crunchy snowy memories

There for the remembering

Any time your close your eyes at all

Happiness

Is

What you make of it

#200 Burns it Clean

The heat is unbearable

Cinders and ashes

Float in the air

The humidity hovers at 90 percent

How ironic that I want fire

The living fire

To cleanse all

Sweeping as from heaven

Leaving only potential

In it's blackened wake

I add more fuel

Piling it higher

The flames lick at the treetops

In answer to my stoking

I poke and I prod

At the cherry coals

Hiding at the bottom of the pile

Urging them to eke out a little more heat

I will drive the demons away

With the very fire that borne them

My poker waves in triumph

As the fire gets it's head

And starts eating it's way ahead

Off we march

My fire and I

To avenge the wrongs

And leave no right standing

Good and bad

Both take the heat

The time is past for judging which is which

None shall be spared

In this mad march to the sea

Froth spills from my lips

As I whip the flames

"Faster!!" I cry

It obeys me

With startling speed

I have many a mile to go

Before I can rest my fiery head this night

On my asbestos pillow of hope

Gazing out upon the black plains of the world

#199 Is a Kitchen Accretion Disk

There’s a black hole hovering in my kitchen

It sounds crazy

But it’s true

About three feet off the floor

Big as a basketball

And looking right at you

It stands where my trash can once did

Rest in peace chrome trash can

I loved you for your art deco looks

But now you are crushed

In a small dense gravity well

The garbage inside you also mushed

I wish I’d had some instruments

Or some observation going on

Now I have only a theory

As to how it was born

The trash can

Was always overfilled

Such that the flipper door couldn’t shut again

Gaping with things hanging out

As an animal with it’s tongue after it was killed

Still the can wasn’t emptied

Trash was pushed in mercilessly

Compacted and stood upon

Though the can’s metal walls protested

Crinkling and groaning

Sometimes heard almost to be laughing

As someone approached with another thing

Giggling at the idea

Knowing you must be jesting

Until finally it had to have happened

Something snapped

Or contracted

Or popped

With that, the can and all it’s contents

Disappeared from this existence

Leaving this small rift in space

To mark it’s place

It’s kind of convenient now

I must admit

I just toss garbage anywhere near

And it gets sucked right in

I never have to empty it either

Although there are hazards involved

Yesterday I lost my second favorite hat

And the day before

It almost sucked in the cat

I’ll have to put up some signs

It will keep OSHA at bay

Something simple and clear

I think it will say:

“WARNING: Time and space compressing kitchen disposal.  Use with caution”

That should work.

#198 Is Quitting

“C’mon bitch, smoke me”

I come alert from my daydream and look around

Nobody is there

I look down

It’s that goddamned cigarette again

I’ve been trying to quit

I know I should

And I’m trying

So get off my back

But the cigarette’s siren song

Is hard to resist

Especially when it is so compelling

It’s words pour out like sugar to my ears

“Wrap your ruby lips around me

You know you want it”

See what I mean?

It knows what I want to hear

And it doesn’t let up

I try to think positive thoughts instead

Spring meadows

Bunny rabbits, skinny pigs

Sweet smelling breath

Unless I have garlic

But those are the breaks

Babies, puppies, and sunshine

But I can’t keep it up forever

Work stress furrows my brow

And I unconsciously reach for the pack

“That’s it, slip me out, it’s so confining in here…”

That one cigarette

Being saved for when I really really need it

Pushes my buttons

I DO want it

But as much as I do;

I want it a little less than yesterday

And a little less than the week before this one

So I have it’s number

I shove the pack back in my pocket

Munch on some sunflower seeds

And mentally tell it to fuck off

I don’t need it anymore