the Destruction of word(s)

Post Holiday Meltdown

Wake up lil Johnny
Take a hold of the moment
Rip the paper eat the bows
Destroy training commencement
Baby Jesus would do it

Car Pay De Um
Slaughter the Lady Bugs
The house smells of gasoline
Puss bug bites
Bluegrass records in circles
Broken remains

The Music is over back to life
Back to being a real Man
Back to the grim reality
No more dreaming just grim truth
Swallow it all up this is your life

We drove up to the cliff
One of our Sunday drives
Telling me about school
I pulled out Jack and sipped
Flying up the mountain side
Reaching the top we both weep.





Think About the Good Times

Christmas day Godfather dies High on GOD
PCP and funky chicken gives any man a cold sweat
Shotgun police chase -- wondering will you try me?
Grunt!
Hitting a Woman but it’s a Man’s World
JB wasn’t always feeling so good
when he gave death threats
cutting a rug moving an feeling the funky soul
But he’s on the Night Train
So Please Please Please don’t forget
You don’t know karate but you know crazy
Papa don’t take no mess cuz he’s got a brand new bag
Don’t forget to say it loud and proud wherever you are.

r.
i.
p.
Godfather of Soul





An Ode to a Beautiful Woman (revision)

You walk like you live in New York.
I like that the way you walk is quite different.
Walking around Mt. Vernon
you could be in Manhattan, London, Japan.
But you are walking in front of me.


My eyes admire your slick black heels.
As you walk small bits of Celtic letters
play peek a boo on the natural curve of your back.
I smile as you walk never turning back.


Hidden secrets of your cheekbones
only view half at a time.
The way you move is a language
never understood by most common man
a quest for you, a quest for Don Quixote.


Sunglasses hide your true identity
pieces scatter as memories often do.
I try to speak before the corner turns
but I kept walking
you had me for a moment.