30 June 2011

and everything comes to america ~by Doc Huckster

and everything comes to america
the sufi buddhist but we gotta give it back
and everything you give a fuck about
you can carry around in one little garbage sack

records books but these are obselete
photographs lost i have precious memories
poems i wrote but i set them free
i wrote them on water rest in peace

we are gypsies dancing making love
eating sweets drunk on the wine
swirling swirling we spiral down
to the awakening of the deep divine

your skin is glowing illuminated
the darkness love just before the dawn
music playing then a beautiful silence
as we stand naked looking into the great beyond

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~**~~~*~~~*~~~*

Another offering from another of my talented Facebook friends. Doc regularly stuns me with the depth of feeling in his poetic allusions. A self-described Southern Zen Poet, he is not only one of my favourite poet friends on Facebook, he is one of my favourite all-time poets. I am so grateful for the window that Doc and his lovely wife Terea share through their words and pictures.


He even looks the part of the quintessential beat poet.

There's some deep water there in South Carolina and Doc is tapped into it.

(photo courtesy of Terea Doster)

Holding Back The Years

Don't be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes, is certain for those who are friends.
~Richard Bach, Illusions




Holding back the years
Thinking of the fear I've had so long
When somebody hears
Listen to the fear that's gone
Strangled by the wishes of pater
Hoping for the arms of mater
Get to me the sooner or later

Holding back the years
Chance for me to escape from all I've known
Holding back the tears
Cause nothing here has grown
I've wasted all my tears
Wasted all those years
And nothing had the chance to be good
Nothing ever could yeah

I'll keep holding on
I'll keep holding on
I'll keep holding on
I'll keep holding on
So tight

I've wasted all my tears
Wasted all of those years
And nothing had the chance to be good
Cause nothing ever could oh yeah

I'll keep holding on
I'll keep holding on
I'll keep holding on
I'll keep holding on
Holding, holding, holding

That's all I have today
It's all I have to say

29 June 2011

The Light Shines

The light shines above your head alone
and all the signs point the way back
to that ephemeral moment
etched upon this heart of stone
when I looked deep into your eyes and saw
my soul reflected within those mirrored pools
pointing me, pushing me

back
back
back

to that one original wild
untamed unrehearsed
devastatingly significant
moment in time
when I first heard the light
pierce the fertile seed

and all of my inner knowing was born.

© 27 June 2011

27 June 2011

The Unspoken Word

The unspoken word
between you and me
leaves a veil of mystery
a dark territory
yet unexplored.

Awareness strings
a golden thread
across a vast and silent void
Knowing (and unknowing if)
a heart beats at the other end.

(c) 2011

26 June 2011

Exposed



That door you flung wide open
Releasing a flock of scared birds
Roosting in my heart
Fluttering in a million wingbeats
Before disappearing into the light of a new dawn.

The veils you casually stripped away
Exposing the masks of my own undoing
I now stand before you
Revealed in your presence.

The door is opened
The veils are dropped
The hermetic seals are broken
All that remains is an empty vessel
Filled with a holy light.

(c) 2011

24 June 2011

Donovan featuring the Jeff Beck Group....

In love pool eyes float feathers after the struggle.
The hopes burst and shot joy all through the mind
Sorrow more distant than a star.
Multi colour run down over your body,
Then the liquid passing all into all
Love is hot truth is molten.

Happy Birthday Jeff Beck !



I love this man !

23 June 2011

Threadbare


The fabric of society
Is ripping at the seams
Sub-prime market swindlers
Destroyed American dreams.

While our lives become more threadbare
With every Wall Street excess
Pollyanna meets Doubting Thomas
Along the Main Street of distress.

Foreclosure, unemployment
Have wrecked your credit score
And that wolf at your front door
Just had puppies on your floor.

Our moral compass broken
Compassion all but lost
Leading success rates of failure
While the weak pay the cost.

Joe Sixpack drinks a debt death brew
Suffering the pains of poverty
Choking on the bitter dregs and
Toasting our mutual misery.

The lunatic fringe feral government
Drove a big rig down a dead end street
With corporate personhood at the wheel
Constitution’s trampled under feet.

Jails and shelters over flowing
In the north and in the south
National debt keeps on growing
Like rhetoric from a lipstick mouth.

Middle class, Middle America
Who haven’t a dime to spare
Will meet for Sunday dinner
On the corner of Futility and Despair.

Tycoon capitalist overlords
Are buying property on Easy Street
While good folks in bad times
Find it harder to make ends meet.

© 23 June 2011

22 June 2011

Jealous

Jealous?

Yeah, I’m jealous.

Jealous of the postman
Who walks daily to your door

Jealous of the clerk
Who helps you at the store

Jealous of the barber
Who gets to cut your hair

Jealous of the doctor
Who gets to touch you there

Jealous of the walls
That claim you in their space

Jealous of the sun
That lights upon your face.

© 2011

13 June 2011

F*ck yeah !!!

(warning contains the word F*CK)



I absolutely love this.

This is officially my 600th post. Seems appropriate. No apologies. Thank you to my 13 followers. Let's hope you stick around after this one. Here's to the next 600.

11 June 2011

The English Are So Nice! ~ D.H. Lawrence

The English are so nice
so awfully nice
they're the nicest people in the world
And what's more, they're very nice about being nice
about your being nice as well!
If you're not nice, they soon make you feel it.

Americans and French and Germans and so on
they're all very well
but they're not really nice, you know.
They're not as nice in our sense of the word, are they now?

That's why one doesn't have to take them seriously.
We must be nice to them, of course,
of course, naturally -
But it doesn't really mater what you say to them,
they don't really understand -
you can just say anything to them:
be nice, you know, just be nice -
but you must never take them seriously, they wouldn't understand
just be nice, you know! oh, fairly nice,
not too nice of course, they take advantage -
but nice enough, just nice enough
to let them feel they're not quite as nice as they might be.

09 June 2011

a Tribute ~

Poetic verses he could pen
Lacking rancor and repentance
And found within these eager ears
A ripe and ready acceptance

His poems he gave for nothing
Like some Promethean fire
Seductively enticing
An uncontrollable desire

Erotic heady phrases
Consumed imagination
Probing words that left me
Open for interpretation

With dexterous prolificity
Wove a web of total trust
Tempting proscribed promiscuity
Stoking wild and primal lust

This Don Juan Casanova versifier
A Pirate by self-definition
Spun cautionary tales of beguile
Spurning my own admonition

Implicit wicked parlance
Made it feel so good to be bad
For a dreamy illusory fantasy
It was the best sex I never had.

© 2011

Buoyant

I

Naming constellations
Before they slide into the sea
Nothing means more
than you being here with me
Sextant or compass
Merely point the way
Love can only blindly lead
Where others go astray.

II

By the stars in your eyes I could navigate
dark waters of my soul’s secret longing
Where hope is buoyed upon choppy seas
by the steady rhythm of a beacon heart

Where I hug the forbidden shoreline
find comfort in shelter of harbour
And drop this heavy anchor of desire
Into the berth of tomorrow.

© 2011


04 June 2011

The Emerging Feminine Archetype



Just sharing music these days, as I am not sharing much writing (again).

Dark Night of the Soul

01 June 2011

Honeyed words drip over me
Arousing slumbered ecstacy
'Til every last drop is squeazed
From your honey-combed chamber heart
Sticky sweet on salty skin, what alchemy
Come! Taste your wild elixir.

(c) 2011