Chain Smoke

Tap tap tap on your cigarette
To the beat of fallen embers.
Chatter in the background.
Inhale, hold, exhale, again.
Tame the flaming fury
With your man lungs.
Defeat the sting of nicotine
On your pink gums.
Ahhhhh, satisfaction.
Ahhhhh, satisfaction.
The label burns until
It is unrecognizable
Even by its own mother.
The feeling's stopped. Huh?
Light another, light another.
What were you saying?
Continue,
Yes.

Ah Vieille Nice

In the street
You can scent the wet salt
Mixing in harmony
With the dripping edifices'
Antique grime.
Turn right and follow
The alley down narrow steps
Deeper into the
Green and red rimmed thicket.
Here's a vendor wiping
His skinny fingers on a
White waistcloth. "Du café monsieur!"
Shirts, soap, perfume,
Bouillabaisse and linen,
And God too stays the
Night, boarding on
The steps de la cathédrale.
There! The arch!
The road and
Beach and sea beyond.
I'm home. The pebbles
Are smooth to the sole.
This is my home.

Nothing Vulgar

There's nothing vulgar
About the way she parts her lips,
Or how her skirt hugs her hips,
Swooshing back and forth,
Defining her thighs.
And her eyes know something you don't,
A joke she could tell you but won't.
Where would that leave the fun?
The tongue that utters no sound,
But drops a load on a scabbed heart
As it curls and slips its way around
The teeth that like a cat's can bite,
But rather find it right to kiss. Just
Not the likes of a looker-on,
Pining with orbs like jelly,
Fixed under penalty of dissolution.
Those blue obsessions, I'm sure I saw them flicker,
For a moment when he said that,
But all politeness and flattery,
She holds out for more than less.
She knows how to wear a spring dress,
And I dream of a tender caress
That must abide within her arms unless
Some rook in her life has made a mess.
I'll ring his neck and carry her off
Into the sunset. Like ancient Greeks of fame,
If I can gather the nerve to ask her name.

Once

Once when we were young,
And our paths were yet unpaved,
I made for you a smile,
You tossed me back a wave.

A furtive glance perchance,
I wouldn't call it that,
You lingered for a moment,
I couldn't turn my back.

The knight in me approached you,
But chivalry is dead,
My legs were caught in motion,
My neck it turned my head.

The weather's getting warmer,
And still I'm growing old,
My wife is calling for me,
My coffee's gotten cold.

Why?

I'm smoking for hiding,
Running from something bright,
Clinging to old habits
Cuz what's chasing me is light.
It's nothing that's alien, I know it alright,
But the site I recoil at just over the shoulder
Makes my hands cover my eyes,
And I pull my cloak closer
To keep the heat to not ignite.
It's like sometimes it's quiet,
And then I can just run free,
But sometimes it's problems,
And then I blow the trees
Cuz problems don't mix right with me.
So it all boils down
To what defines a victory.

Price

If you say 2+2 is 5,
I think me and that can jive
If you'll admit that God's alive.

In Class

Happy, said I,
The kind of stand-up guy
I'd like to meet, and befriend.
Then she put the end,
He's immature, naive, and superficial.

Sheepherder

Shepherd's hey, shepherd stay,
To tend your waiting flock.
A watchful eye is needed
For a favorable stock.

Shepherd do you hear the howling,
Barking far away?
Recall an ardent keeper's hand
Will keep the wolves at bay.

Shepherd have your job in mind,
Remember what should pass.
Resist the sloth temptation
To lay upon the grass.

Shepherd do you see the infant
Suckling its milk?
A mother nurses babies
Like a spider spins its silk.

Shepherd you're the captain,
You control the lambs.
Don't tolerate rebellion.
Punish anxious rams.

Shepherd keep an eye out.
Shepherd know the time.
Shepherd bring 'em all home,
And shepherd you'll do fine.

Teenage Revolution

Listen to Jimi Hendrix,
Don't listen to your parents.
Listen to Bob Dylan,
Don't listen to your friends.
Listen to Jesus Christ,
Don't listen to Adolf Hitler.
Listen to Siddharta the Buddha,
Don't listen to Mao Zedong.
Listen to the sound of the rain,
Don't listen to motors.
Listen to morning birds,
Don't listen to gunshots.
Listen to nothing,
Don't listen to noise.
Listen to me,
Listen to yourself.

I was born to sail the seas

I dream in an endless deep deep sea
Of chop and surf and spit,
And the wet air licks my skin with salt,
And the tumult rocks the ship,
And the wonders of the ocean floor
I struggle hard to see,
And I stare at the glassy blue-eyed surface,
And it stares right back at me.

I was born to be a sailor,
And a sailor I will be.
I was born to be a sailor
To sail the ocean sea,
And even if the waters
Will drown their mysteries,
To Sinbad I aspire,
John Paul Jones I do admire,
And my life's work I won't flee,
For I was born to be sailor,
And a sailor I will be.

To my Blooming Rose

In your life you must have seen many places,
Ran many races,
Heard many cases,
Loved on a regular basis,
And in your face I see two faces.

I see your mother's wit,
And your father's stare
Searching for which broken pieces
Go where. I see your hair
Glimmering like a china plate.
You're beautiful. I see something
In you, but something that makes you wait.

I see an artist
Trying her hardest
To break new ground,
To lose herself
And not be found,
To hear the ancient drummer's sound,
To hear it played and play
Her own flute louder,
To leave the powder by the mirror
And become prouder
Than all that she fears.

You're beautiful,
Cooling water of a mirage oasis.
You're beatiful,
The awaited object of many my paces.
You're beautiful,
But in your face abide two faces.