ALL THIS WAY

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads











A birthday boy's tendency
is to replay everything
against the purples
and pistachios of spring

The little white lies
from another time

The past receding
like the ass-end of a train
from which you've just disembarked

Ancient phrases
inside another eternity
and of no import now
the greater truths ignored
for sake of our little tete a tetes

Today I ponder the world's disasters
the worst of which is adding another digit
to that chronological catastrophe
I fondly refer to as me

Everyone gets  a raw deal
and still the clouds roll by 

Coming all this way
drifting across the cosmos
with these inconvenient truths 

on these afternoons without angels

and still we stand
in anticipation of one extraordinary love

Having experienced the moon
in a myriad of exotic positions
I unmask poems
of barking cats
and rats
and elephants
and stand revealed 
to lonesome applause

Waiting for Santa Claus
I blaspheme and bubble
in the center of all infinity
as I bend to softly kiss you
and the world becomes 
my oyster
and you're my clam

Let's go to Amsterdam



From my poetry and short story collection: Last Tango In Timbuktu

GOLDEN

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads--dVerse Poets Pub




On a sun-splashed day
in a desert 
where the Horse With No Name
made his claim to fame

With spring making overtures
like a punch-drunk lover

I saw her
in my mind's eye
I heard her
in my mind's ear
I contemplated her
in my mind's belly button

Behold The Vagabond Princess
electric rays sparking 
from the tips of her golden hair
she's been there
and back
on a beach with some name
And all because sunshine came
softly through her window that day

Swaying to the beat
of a distant drummer
her gaze is locked on summer

A painted man
walks down the street
blowing bubbles out his ears

How does he do that?

The world is a wondrous
and magical place to be...

The answer blowing
in the tail winds
that are bringing her to me 

GOLDEN

Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

On a sun-splashed day
in a desert 
where The Horse With No Name
made his claim to fame

With spring making overtures
like a punch-drunk lover

I saw her
in my mind's eye
I heard her
in my mind's ear
I contemplated her
in my mind's belly button

Behold The Vagabond Princess
electric rays sparking 
from the tips of her golden hair
she's been there
and back
on a beach with some name
And all because sunshine came
softly through her window that day

Swaying to the beat
of a distant drummer
her gaze is locked on summer

A painted man
walks down the street
blowing bubbles out his ears

How does he do that?

The world is a wondrous
and magical place to be...

The answer blowing
in the tail winds
that are bringing her to me