Harmony is beautiful, but the freedom to create dissonance is more beautiful.

Lake Worth Poetry

Catch & Release
For Michael 6/9/2010

A fisherman’s boat is sinking
in a pond or in the sea
He has one chance to be released
His fishing line is caught inside
a jungly haven of lily pads
Franticly he pulls and grabs
at his pole while pushing off
with his feet inadvertently
from the boat that’s barely seen
It falls into the murky deep
Plunging in propelled to swim
A tumultuous feat
He never learned formerly
His hands like hooves are clawing
His feet in shoes stomping through
the water seeking forward motion
or something somewhat solid
His efforts are in vain
In order to survive this game
Panic must subside
Let common sense be his guide
Emerging fingers clutch the line
Eyes of mud wide open find
a bobber and an empty hook
hung up in the watery vines

Avenging her anguish
fate began to take its stand
For it was his past
catching up with him
In a pond or in the sea
back and forth was he with she
who was naive to fall for his
catch and release
Pulling her out
Holding her gently
Removing the hook
She struggled to breathe
Stroking her gills
Parting her fins
Plunging himself
inside her wetness
Then a premature cast
back into the pond
or into a sea of ejaculation
and doing this over
and over again

But it was still she who knowingly
went back for more wretchedly
accepting the hook orally
tearing a gash in her scarred up lips
He would not quit
and neither would she
Until finally one day
he spitefully sailed away
leaving her floating and bleeding
The hook she had swallowed
he ripped from her throat
the flesh from her heart
lay strewn in his boat
then he was gone for good

She searched for the boat
the bobber to follow
down to a hook
with a worm of rubber
that never again was offered
No plastic meal to lure and tease
No more relentless
catch and release
for her that is
The pond, the sea,
the entire ecosystem
self centered around
his world of relation
without the knowledge
of it’s obligation
or any idea of his sick intentions
actually oblivious to his existence
But he still believed “All below revolve around me!”

Waxing moons and waning tides
had come and gone in healing time
She heard one day his boat in the wind
A hurricane whirled and slowly set in
over the pond he nestled on
or sea where he was playing his game
Assuming immunity
He thought he was safe
then a massive wave took over his fate
It was said his boat had sank
and he was never seen again.

Tangled in seaweed
two eyes see him gladly
Closer he swims to the lily pad hideaway
A family of reptiles of alligator kind
awaiting his rest to pounce when he’s blind
He sees his hook
his knees dragging bottom
in the shallow water
he attempts to stand
on tired legs the muck is sucking
his shoes into its depths
he lifts his feet takes giant steps
Trudging and thrashing through the green
frogs and birds sing peacefully
vultures lurking and hovering
waiting to hear for his last breath

Suddenly frogs and birds go silent
all that is heard -a splash of violence
A soaring pain runs up his leg
and pulls him in up over his head
His hands like claws raking the bottom
he pulls himself free rushing clumsily out
Climbing up a bank too steep
his feet slide down awkwardly
Blood oozing through heavy pants
the left leg losing the pain enhances
only to notice his right foot stuck
caught in the jaws of a gator’s luck
Dinner for the cold blooded family
was beginning to look good and tasty
He kicks with his leg as weak as it is
on his belly in dirt he thinks he can swim
He holds his head up with fistfuls of soil
his body slides backwards
down the bank getting wetter
into the water up over his head
chomping more chomping his foot comes off
releasing himself he swims for the surface
he finds the air he chokes he coughs
he swims for the shore
right foot missing and left leg broken
helplessly bleeding and spoken for
the vultures anxiously waiting their turn

He lies on his back
waving a white flag
but nature is ruthless regarding revenge
With a foot in its belly
the gator runs swiftly
between his legs opening widely
He catches a glimpse of the hungry reptile
closing down on him tightly
A final scream is released to exile
The pond is heard waving laughter
And the sea is seen casting a smile
His limbs are torn off
His groin chewed quickly
A family of seven enjoy the feast
Then the vultures come pacing
the air with glee
When it is time
they will dine
a delicacy on land
and one in flight

Every good and every bad thing
happens to come in threes
First it was Her by He
out of a pond
and into the boat
then back into the sea
Second was He by a reptile’s teeth
out of a pond
and onto the shore
then back into the sea
A charming third his Ghost took flight
up from the ground into airy night
the vultures took off and left the flesh
catching the Ghost instead
out of the air
and into their mandibles
then the release to fall to land
playing the game in hovering circles
over and over
and over and over
and over and over again.

The River
10/4/2010 4:30AM

A river runs swiftly and quietly
but not as fast as a steady rain
racing down aimlessly
a droplet found curiously
in the clutch of a rocky bank

A river whisper echoes for miles
like a whimpering of a tired child
rather white water
or crashing like thunder
it peacefully flows in free style

A river gracefully dances with glee
down and around every cypress tree
old but strong
content all along
a shallow bed of cypress knees

A river dark and brown with swamp
the smell of mangrove ahead in it’s mouth
birds heard chirping
frogs heard singing
crickets orchestrating every sound

The river running carries a canoe
twisting and turning a vessel of two
steering and steady
paddle when ready
listen to the river; it whispers to you
hush...the river speaks to you.

A rainy evening in Lake Worth 9/23/2010 6:56PM

I love the sound of rain
I’ve written of rain before
I love the quiet of snow
I ought to write of it more
It may be the absence of people
when it rains
the watery sound
to drown out all others
It may be the absence of everything
when it snows
the silence swarming inside
my ears and head
as if suddenly I go deaf
and the world continues making noise
but I cannot hear it

I love the clanking of large heavy drops
falling hard against the gutters
made of aluminum or some other metal
especially the ruckus
of crashing rain on a tin roof
the pitter patter of landing plops
running a mile or more
racing from a cumulonimbus sky
the splatting against the leaves of trees
dancing between the blades of grass
or gently puddling onto a flower pedal
raindrops huddling communing together

I love the peaceful fall of snow
tiny crystals floating through the sky
clumping into flakes waltzing coupling
whispering droplets frozen into ice
a silent courtship passing
trapped in silence and waiting to melt
awakening to sing to each other
the songs of spring but until then
each feathery crystal
a symetrical sixfold
cuddling hush, the white, the calming

I love the sound of rain
and the quiet of snow
Precipitation brings me tranquility.

9/3/2010 Friday at 2:54
Rowan’s nap after many Sesame Street ABC songs

O is for Oreos
a tasty delight
or if you crave healthy
an early Oatmeal bite
An Orange from Florida
a juicy little fellow
or a cheesy lasagna
mixed with Oregano
Onions are a favorite
especially the red Ones
Oysters work well
in a raw naked fashion
Cooking with Olive Oil
makes food taste yummy
some use an Octopus
coloring with it’s ink

Some Outstanding people
Own an O name
like Oprah and Obama
and Otis Redding
Nature has Obvious names
like the white Barn Owl
Osprey in an Oak tree
and Oleander flowers
Some cities I traveled
Oak Ridge and Omaha
Did a gig in Opp
a small town in Alabama
Florida has Ocala
Okeechobee and Orlando
I lived in New Orleans
the second starts with O!

Some Old stories start with O
The Odyssey and Oedipus
can be read or can be sung
in Opera singing Octaves
An Ornery Old Oarfish
way Out in the Ocean
swims with an Orca
going up for Oxygen
A switch can turn Off
like a dead libido
but if it stays On
Go for the “O!”
O is for Orgasm
my favorite O word
Only One is needed
but more is preferred

Wrapping up this poem
with an Omni Oxymoron
Obliging words in writer’s block
Ol’ rooster crows at noon O’clock
Had to lie to take an Oath
The next P words Object to O
Prancing in Prolific Place
P makes chaos in Oasis
But O stood tall in Opposition
Obsessed with P’s Obfuscation
That P must wait and Obey
the Order from which it must’ve came
The ABC’s, an Organization
an Orchestra in Alphabetation
an Oboe plays the last few lines
and O receives a standing Ovation!

Wise Up!
For Shannon
4/4/2010 2AM Saturday

In one instant
she placed her faith
in a Man-scum
before herself but worse
before her children
A liar, a thief, a sorry excuse
for a human being

Off to a courtroom to prosecute
assuming that he may al-acute
or a judge to rule in favor
of hers and not his behavior
But faced with decision
she dropped all charges
last minute
despite the anguish
he caused her children
especially the eldest-
who seeks the guidance
of just one mother-
who sees her only chance
at love
is with a lazy tyrant

There are three
two are not his
The eldest her daughter
in teenage years
now lives with a schoolmate of hers
avoiding a curse
of future torment
She suffered- the First
from the last poor decision
to which her mother stayed
with the father-
a Pedophile temptation
Finally left
after much persuasion

The Second, her son
with the same father
the Pedophile damnation
suffered to find
a man in his life
then forced upon him
the Man-scum
another beyond redemption
The son looks up to this thief
a liar
a manipulative driver
controlling a womyn-
the mother under his conjure

The Third, much younger
a daughter
the Man-scum’s offspring
but she is a joy
a bright happy thing
she obviously doesn’t
take after him
But who then?
To early to say
she’s only a toddler
she’s still at play
but hopefully won’t falter
to naivete
or her mother’s game

So there it is
another stupid womyn
purposefully kissing ass
Caught in a trap
she put herself there
Even her own sister
and her eldest daughter
both have disowned her
She placed a man’s penis
before her own kids
and one of those kids is his
Sadly it is they who will never know
what a loving parent
truly is.

3/10/10 revised 3/28/2010
From song Detached

If you are there
I’ll pretend I’m awake
You may endeavor
to take your pleasure
but I am lost in this place
And I may never
reconnect with a face

But if you succeed
in finding me
then I’ll gladly be
the flower in your vase
I guess I could stay
for a little bit
just until my pedals have wilted.

I Rather Be Outside At Night
3/10/10 revised 3/28/2010

I rather be outside at night
where I can be seen
and can’t
Anticipating and tasting
the dew that sets by morning
From a secret cover
nocturnal hovering
a cloud waiting to quench my thirst
in bursting…dreams

I rather be outside at night
in the fragrant air of jasmine
sweet but subtle, gentle
the cloud moves slowly
a cat plays a fiddle
revealing a crescent moon
amidst a jumping cow
a laughing dog
with a running dish and spoon

I rather be outside
with riddles and rhymes
under a quiet dark sky
cradling the night.

3/10/10 revised 3/28/2010
Answering the years 30-38

The flood gates have opened
I am alive again
After a long sleep of apathy
detachment and isolation
A slumber that stole my one true love
music and being a musician.

5/16/2009 3:30pm

Words comprised
of thoughts and time
Vaguely relayed
Explicitly portrayed
Sadly chronicled
Happily registered
No matter its content
An artist is present
A favorite of three
and one is poetry

Majestic tower
of energy and power
Peacefully employ
Violently destroyed
Wretchedly gone
Contently reborn
No matter what kind
A life so divine
A favorite of three
and one is a tree

A genuine touch
of arms and love
Occasionally conspired
Universally desired
Mournfully in need
Gladly received
No matter when
A hug from a friend
My favorites are poetry
and hugging a tree.


There is something sensual about biting
into a piece of produce
that I have grown and nurtured
from a seedling
buried warmly in the backyard
It sounds somewhat cannibalistic!
But if all is life
including the trees
the vines
the grapes
and the wines
then the consumption of life
makes me a cannibal.
Therefore, we are all cannibals
and this cannot change
unless we resolve ourselves to eating plastic
Although the processed food most commonly consumed after purchase
after distribution to the corporate grocery chain after mass production
has the nutritional value of a plastic apple
or plastic banana
or plastic orange.

But if we eat plastic the recycling plants would have nothing to process and those jobs would be lost and our economy is already falling apart or fell apart and then poor little ‘world power America’ will lose the heavy weight title to China or Japan or maybe Canada as if we haven’t already even though Norway and Sweden are actually the richest countries in the world with the lowest unemployment rates lowest crime rates and lowest obesity rates and people live longer on average and have to visit a doctor less on average at the same time it is a RIGHT not a privilege to have free healthcare not to mention they both have the highest education standards where universities are free as well and don’t feel the need to spend so much fucking government money on a useless defense policy since they don’t have a masculine ego to start wars! Damn liberals making us look so bad!
Oh forget it
Be a Cannibal!

blog comments powered by Disqus