TRUST

With Real Toads--d'Verse poets Pub

You ate that

spaghetti sauce

that had been in your

fridge for nearly 6 months

you burped and said it was good

And that chocolate bar

that lurked in your cupboard

for God knows how long

it was all discolored

and was morphing

into some other shape

and frankly

it looked like a turd

And those green beans

with mold the color of rust

(you've no issues with trust)

You don't mind things

that are past their sell by date

maybe that's why

you're still hangin' round

with the likes of me

KISS FROM THE CLOUDS

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

She was a woman from Jakarta
the mistress of a Cardinal
and she painted lonely landscapes
on her journey to the sea

A child of the east
a woman of the west
she loves only what is forbidden
standing naked in the courtyard of a country church
where you have followed her from the tourist bus
dark angel beseeching heaven
for a sign from her departed lover

And you know that you can touch her
but she has already told you
that sex is meaningless unless
it is tied to some romantic illusion

And she has told you that her lover
had said that when he is dead
he will send her a kiss from the clouds
and you turn your face skyward

And you know that you can possess her
but she has already told you
that life is meaningless unless
it is tied to some romantic illusion

And she has told you that joy and sorrow are both impostors
and that joy is born from exultation in the moment
and sorrow in a morn when the moment has passed

And you know that you can kill her
but she has already told you
that death is meaningless unless
it is tied to some romantic illusion

And the rain comes like music divinely orchestrated
and your tears come like the muse
unexpected but greatly appreciated
and the colors of the rainbow explode inside your head
as she transmogrifies into a vision of the Madonna

And transcends into heaven

And you wonder who will pick the shrapnel from your eyes
as the rain sends you a kiss from the clouds

She was a woman from Jakarta
the mistress of a Cardinal
and she painted lonely landscapes
on her journey to the sea 



Many thanks to Sherry at Poets United for selecting "Kiss From The Clouds" as Poem Of The Week.

LIFE HAS A WAY

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

Buncha doped up hippies

beatin' on their drums...
Buncha drunken rednecks
beatin' on their women!

Buncha doped up hippies
dancin' in the street...
Buncha drunken rednecks
PEEING in the street!

Buncha doped up hippies
hitting you up for spare change...
Buncha drunken rednecks
hitting you UPSIDE THE HEAD!

Buncha doped up hippies
could greatly benefit from higher consciousness...
Buncha drunken rednecks
could greatly benefit from higher IQ.

Buncha doped up hippies
face down in the potato salad...
Buncha drunken rednecks
face down in the potato salad!!

Life has a way
of ironing out
the little differences
between us.

REAL

With Real Toads--d'Verse Poets Pub

What is a memory? 
And what is a dream?
And is one more real
than the other?

The memory
you say
because it once existed.
But I say the dream--
because it still
holds the promise
of fruition.