My Old Friends

My Old Friends

Let us pretend we are still so close

three fiddlers vibrating

raising the hairs

from our chins.

Heads tucked in closely,

a supra divine trilogy

echo

playing

"Castle Kelly."

One for the Age - O.

Some may have thought it would

last forever,

that we would have

another chance

to play in our sweet trio.

Hearts aglow

love a flowing.

I can still

hear the ringing

from this moment

two years ago.

May this moment last forever

in my Mind

of this time so dearly granted.

I now spring

from where

was 

planted.

The Holidays are Coming

The holidays are coming

the goose is getting fat

Please put four dollars in

the old man's hat.

I  paint, musician, writer

I will not be denied

nor will be unemcombered

by

the feelings by and by.

So much of clouded beingness

I've birthed by to be apt

born with fifth strand

dangling

precariously

for certain tho' entact.

Come ancient, solid certainty

transform me by and by

into that far sought bliss be

I will not be denied.

So fair, white rainbow wind blown

through wilted, stilted throat

continue please

and ever wipe

the fibers from my moat

of fallen chemtrail poisons.

Be still you halted dwarf whack

you will not win the sacredness

of Nomi's that can float.

Preparing last month's portratuire

of Yhu Rha Dha infused

to hang for all the holidays

and keep mine all amused.

I dally dainty paint straubs

where Liebestruam is played

I'm jolly, holly holidazed

and still firmly bemused.

Come ancient foreign solitude

Come be here by my side

Come loving arms of sanctity

come love me by and by.

Studio

I love peering inside

from

outside my studio.

So much of me and my divinity

in color,

animal,

rhyme.

Computer, printers, piano, drums

once a goal of seven paintings

blossomed into

one huge

wonderous

existance

of 

hundreds.

twenty-one years.

October

yellow

Indian bean tree

how I love thee.

Late October

Yew trees

trimmed almost perfectly

NOW on this front porch

and then,

Red Yew berry

from my childhood

held me preciously.

 my 

front porch

of

52 years ago

on Park Avenue, New Castle

P

A

How I love you October

close to the end

of a dark rift ending

finally.

A new painting

emerges

re-embracing blues.

Zinnias and solar symbiosis

Polar bear

and love songs.

Poem - The Loss of a Friend

                             

                                                              The Loss of a Friend

To break the bones of quiet solitude

and rectify what's not

And quell an ancient Herstory

of places I forgot

don't separate my fantasy from

dusty, crushed up stone

I'd rather fly in majesty

and stay within my throne

than subject my selves

to punishment no matter

how unknown.

What fabricated fantasies upon my

lips insured

I'd rather be a butterfly

than something more obscure.

And fly close to the future

as it were coming closer

I drop my worldly cares

and turn into a ghost

of what things seemed to be

which really were quite near

to dirty, tardy playthings

I hung from like a loose

and cast upon a pyre

 of translucent

purple fire.

Oh let my eternal heart

come undone in the

rising of eight suns

from twisted, tightened prophecy

come twirlingly unfurled.

I take new steps from

infancy where I came in

so burled.

I cast upon a funeral  pyre

 of ultra-violet fire.