Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

i make mr. spock look like rick james

i don’t remember
ever having claimed
to be sane

as none of us are

however i am
one of the most logical
people on earth

i make mr. spock look like rick james

when logic is applied
any problem or query
or sociological
may be solved

this is an attribute on which
my family
and my friends
have come to rely

we all have our demons
accept yours in stride

mine are wearing
pink bow pig tails
and hello kitty thigh highs


Have you heard the good news?

I want to beat you in the face
with one of your glass framed
daily affirmations.

How’s that for emotional impact?


as she departs greece

“This is all a parlor trick. You lovely statues are liars,” she whispers into cave vapors,
pressing her finger to the ear of the temple god made of earthly stone.

“Look at the lengths to which we humans will go in the act of assigning meaning to a world of happenstance.”

The deity has no response, nor would it ever, no matter what was said.

The sacred record player scratches vinyl to it’s death.

Lantern flames cease to dance.

She turns her back to the idol and the promise of a waiting heaven.

Her feet step to avoid the bones and rotting meat of sacrificial lambs who had come before her as she makes her way back to the entrance.

“We are nothing, we mean nothing, we are here for no good reason, and we are miraculous for it. The beauty and freedom of that is lost in all this fuss…this superstitious need for locusts, devils, and bloody rain.”

The deity maintains it’s silence.

She emerges into the light shouting, “Yeah, that’s what I thought you would say…”

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

tired hooker

better heads
have prevailed

the veil irreparably torn

upon considering
your invitation

a notion

while provocative

shiny in it’s candy wrapper

evaporates into ether

when the reality is unfolded

i see another woman’s panties tucked under your carriage’s seat

so i’ll save these glass slippers for another knight

as a matter of fact

the mere idea of taking your coachman’s hand

makes this cinderella

feel less like a princess swept off her feet

and more like a tired hooker

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

there are things i should know

if we are receptive to the mechanism
wisdom begins to define us
and the parameters we function within
as we age

i cannot deny
your existence is all together unlikely

a defiant day lily insisting upon rising above
the early spring snow

i’ve learned to pay no attention
as pablo’s smoke rises beneath my window

but there you are
orange crush inevitable

our eyes full of unwritten poems

the feel of your suit
a sensation insisting
there are things i should know

Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

i get by with a little help…

there are no debts between us
no favors to bestow

nothing but a strong and habitual inclination to make each other happy

friday alive

you have made me addicted
to the utterance of truth, logic,
and common sense

we have been old friends
since our first shared notion

your words offer me the world
bound into one portable volume

you are my second self
my brother who shares my eyes

you are nothing less than requisite

thank you

poetry Uncategorized

when logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead

i’ve purchased
a one way ticket
out of purgatory

so tired of looking through this glass
and listening to jefferson airplane

one pill makes you larger
the other undermines your soul

the men on the chess board are telling me where to go

i must consider interstellar suitcases
and unified plane traveling clothes

my time here wanes with each spring sunset

the remaining moments
spent snapping photographs
of gods and monsters at play

sitting beside the hookah smoking caterpillar i check my flight time

this rabbit hole has proven itself
a too far away world for me

this curious girl
who only wanted a spot of tea
and a bit of life giving bread
with the crusts sliced cleanly away

to hell with following less than punctual furry white vermin

i have my pocket watch
my pens and notebook
and what’s left of me

go ask this alice
after she’s survived it all