Category Archives: Poetry and Prose

expressionist freeverse, punk rock lyrics, occasional ode to love, digression into nonsense, or possibly vaguely lyrical or rhyming, but not likely – maybe in cycles

Columbia Daunted but Still Roils

One way these track run
into the elevator
and onto Mt Hood

Turning east
stopped by wooden fence
dam the beyond
columbia daunted
but stil roils

stunted but strong
regressed to measure and
water spreads
thinner than gold
every fiefdom wants a piece so they
bridge it
dam and tame it

rocks and monuments
observe the folly
silt builds up behind
water cool ahead
moving beyond memories
of drowned villages and
uncovered artifacts
entombed, enshrined
only the tugboats
come close

barge drifting
silos wait
trains slip past
and columbia rolls

I’ve held the Globe

I’ve held the globe
thread for vapor trails
of journeys
each color a route
pinned from Greece to Kenya
or St John’s Bay
is that Israel or Syria?

A blue loop with stops at
20 pins circumnavigates
a memory of connections
meals with colleagues
strangers and stewardesses

Red thread of elongated triangles
crosses over itself
making obtuse angles o’er Pacific
Tinain, Hawaii, Japan, Guam
a green line returns to Perth

Pins cover provinces and states
organized pushed with vigor and precision
Prague before velvet divorce
Cuba pre-Castro

Misnamed Indies several times
around Belize, Venezuala, Colombia, Paraguay
Paraguay why?
Was it a holiday steamer
or a recruiting mission?

Heavy machinery to militants, airplanes to diplomats or typewriters to rogues
a letter carried from a mexican ambassador from a round of golf decades before –
carried not as a prize but a pocket card, not an ace but a jack at least,
“This is to introduce my friend, please provide any due consideration.”

Outside the machines dig holes for bricks
disguising the drip and hum of appratus
chest heaves so shallow,
mouth gapes, head askew,
hands, arms, fingers flush with fluid
ruddy, worn and odd
a man who worked with head and heart,
but little by his hands

Atlantico – Freeverse cycle

Railyards Passing By

journeys waylayed
undertaken – tossed
fields of weakness
past trestle stretch
long past
the hazel field

storage sheds
of secrets
cul de sacs
dead end
in empty fields

glassy roofs volcano top
early whiskey with ginger-ale
intrepidly past
railyards of enterprise
waiting on a signal
to leave only one

hard fought coincidence
leaving me on time
you’ve won the anecdotes
and left me the prize

double loaded
dump truck grey blue
against the green
spring fast jaded
as though an accident
mistaken incident of mine

like fresh grass growing
burst past the
blackened mold
hay bale
cut for winter
first browned – forgotten and
settled to waste

alongst hidden railway yard
seen flashing past
noticed by someone
who might live there
or just be passing past

not a stranger
just someone who doesn’t make it by
except when the train leaves or
when cherry blossoms occur
just to confuse the birds

Adolescent Punk Song (Time is now)

He raises his
arms in triumph
celebrating nothing
but mirth and mischief

youth gone-astray
by indifference
must grab the reins
of resistance

the Time is now
to take a stand
not by force but by
by circumstance

go prove yourself
able to handle (hang)
with the worthy praise
of the generations
victory is ours
for taking
if we don’t buy into the
crap they are slinging

The Time is now
take a stand
be yourself
not a brand-
new anecdote
or target eyes
separate yourself and
take a stand
and don’t believe their lies

spiraling down
think cheesin out
is not allowed

Storied chants
you’re standing tall
complacency thwarted
after all

Middle-aged punk song (I remain)

I’ve finally
slept all night
and sort of
feeling right

i thought
i’d feel sad
but you’re gone
and i’m feeling nothing but glad

i’d decided
that it might
be better
to give up the fight

but then you
and me split
and well at first
i’ll admit that it sucked a bit

but now your split
and i’m perplexed
got time to think
when i’m not wrecked

told myself
i’m better off
without the hassle
and all of the strife


you left
i stayed
in this house that
me built

you split
i remained
but i’m convinced
and i’m not ashamed

you said
you’ll move on
by the befuddlement
you left behind

Vanessa of the B-line

I’ve heard that pretty girls
don’t rides on buses
but here you’re here in curls
and glasses like ordered

You seem to recognize
that i’m already considering
roman holidays in cafes
and train rides to switzerland

You and me it’s agreed
got a history already
set-up in fast forward speed
old photos in albums
like a future unspoken
just give in sooner
before my i need a new token

Already i call you
perfect Vanessa of B-line
Before my stop on davie
somehow gotta make time

Looking so smart
but I’m too shy to stare
Vanessa in glasses
ponytailed, reading Baudelaire

Alive in that bus seat
Vanessa you might be
that cool chick inFouevlougs
riding down Cambie

I’ll wear bow-ties and
serve on faculty
furry eyebrows intact
while you save the world
at ribbon cutting some photo-op

On the back of my ticket
I’ll pass you a note
off at waterfront station?
i’ll invite you to toke

Vanessa act quick now
we’re almost passed the street
i’ll too nervous to tell you
that i think you are
sweet vanessa of the the b-line …


meaning stuck to ceremony
with duct tape
and question marks

tired books thinking
how you should be
otherwise it’s all right
as long as everything is justified
by candle wax and gilded framed

it’s suppose it to be
the hand me down coincidence
that clouds the fact that
3 or 4 or right or read
isn’t the truth
it’s just 5 and wrong

Road Sign 33-1/3rd

life clipping by
at 33 and one third speed

stand here hugging nothing
count dusty nickels
start looking what road signs say

there are many things i don’t have
tickets, dollars
ways and means

sunday providence
grey like last week
with my bargain matinee cough syrup nod
candy coated hold onto my thick head
next wave goes to mars
next even further
watch the clothes spin
in their fluff and dried

i’ve tried it all on bended knees
but i’ll just think here and sit about
lost months and misplaced friends
haggard days and ice cream cones

i’ll stand here
holding nothing
try to think
how i got here
then figure where i am

i’ll stand a shady place
counting nickels

and happenstance
empty out my pockets
on the ground
you can’t trade lint for bread and cheese

it’s cloudier now than
its been for years

i’ve spent daze moving quickly
years dreaming loosely
and hours watching patiently
and weeks muddling and fidgeting


i can’t cross into new york city
across the george washington bridge without
thinking about all the letters i meant to write to people filled faces hid behind

through bronx filled places and streets with places
as indifferent as you and me
finding beauty in dirty brick, sweaty shows and musty shit
the world still spinning fast
story in behind those bars
broken worlds and kalidescope glass

But we’ve jumped the hedges
with nothing on the other side
and we’ve sat on ledges
watching from high above the tide
going somewhere
we could’nt’ve been before

and we’ve watched the airplanes
going to someplace far
seen then from the dirt going somewhere low
while they take the people
i’ve never seen

and we’ve stumbled sidewalks
tripped them in our boots
stayed out of the drain grates and
ended up where we weren’t

so tired but sometimes
so inspired bewildered
and in love with something
we’ve never met
and history yet unseen

that diesel smells always
reminds me of being exactly here right about now

these neon lights and cheap motels
styrofoam coffee and sleeping bags

but i am going elsewhere
not here but maybe it’ll look like here
i have no way to know
i just hope not