Mokulēʻia--O`ahu

Silver and Gold

Mature

wire hangers

wrap bright silver and gold

toboggan down pine needle green

secure.

When ALL we can do is WRITE

“Poetry is what happens when nothing else can.” ― Charles Bukowski

Sometimes I wake

with a song in my heart

prompted by a hearty summons of nature

toot tooting down the hall

pontificating its departure

to the porcelain god

like the conductor on an express train.

Disturbed soon thereafter

by mindfulness and that first cup of JOE

by a rich heaping tablespoon

of medicine from the media

a slow and steady demoralization

similar to  being assimilated by the BORG.

And later

upon reflection

I concede,

as cattle

quickly lulled and

herded by the steady

Yippie yi yo kayah

being led to slaughter

tunneling reality

transfixed by nothing at all.

Yellow Tea Rose

Black and White

You cannot depend on your eyes
when your imagination is out of focus~ Mark Twain

Black and White

White is the shade

you pull down

on your eyes

when I get boring

as you shut your mind to the monotony and the drone

of my noise.

AND Black is

a buzzing fly

that has landed on your nose right after

he shat

on top of a giant pile of

dog shit.

Brown

is the smear

of that sticky fly

with robo eyes

that’s got your number

and won’t die.

The dark brown stain

that’s infected your brain

that you can’t train

or refrain

from keeping in the

dark.

A hot spark

that

lights the bench in the park

that the man in the long black Rolls

once sat on

that you ignored

floating high on your kite

of white

with black and brown lines

that you drew and wouldn’t cross over,

the same man

who could’ve taken you outta all this black and white and shitty brown.

Remember him

reading the paper on a bench in the park

Offering you

some grey poupon

for your shitty

blackened brown dog

pillowed in white?

Apollo - Watching the House

Bread Pudding

Pudding

made from soft bread

chewy raisin background

dark caramel sauce dribbles down

my chin.