Turn A Page Or Two

Tuesday, June 17, 2025

Where Is The Parking?

I couldn’t catch the subway train

Eyes electric lady land vain

I didn’t even have any friends

Besides my Porsche and Mercedes Benz

So I hustled off to Alamo

And snorted a gram of blow

But the CIA was in a little worry

As they fled the scene in diabolical hurry

I saw a spot but it was awful tight

To fit in, to fit in, well I just might

Of course, I didn’t want to scratch the paint

If I did, I’d yell a spell and then faint

There was dog dodo on the ground

My heart in angst began to pound

I pressed the metal to the pedal in backwards cliché

And fled to what was a better day

Yuppies are a thing of the past

And police cruisers ride mighty fast

Chief Columbo is a confidant

Pray tell what more could you want

Another parking deck?

A dismal gigantic metallic wreck

Where is the parking snorted the whore?

What does it matter if there’s nuclear war?

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor

Thursday, June 5, 2025

D-I-R-T

Well you daddy is a millionaire

And you don’t even have a care

All you gotta do is give a ring

And the servants will get you anything

Oh miss princess proper and elite

To you I’m the ground beneath your feet

I know what you think of me

D-I-R-T

Maybe it’ll always be

D-I-R-T

But if you wanna know what’s true

Baby I’m too good for you

Well I make an honest living

I ain’t rich I take what their giving

I’m not wealthy it can’t be denied

But I’m good and decent deep inside

Now some may say that’s a great worth

Not you princess you call me dirt

I know what you think of me

D-I-R-T

Maybe it’ll always be

D-I-R-T

But if you wanna know what’s true

Baby I’m to good for you

Cocktail party caviar

Limousine with a bar

Oh so well read

Got a king size bed

You love fancy art

But you ain’t got a heart

Look in the mirror and see

It’s you who is D-I-R-T

Cause all you hold precious

Is really useless

I see all you do

But still Love you

Foolish heart of mine

It’s a crime

Who can help me

D-I-R-T

Saturday, May 31, 2025

True Love’s Call

I hear at night my true love call

I know not any more precious sound

The sweetest of angels sometimes fall

My beauty, my soul, my passion, my all

I look to you for in you I’m found

I hear at night my true love call

I beg of you a kiss if but small

Let me help you to where you are bound

The sweetest of angels sometimes fall

You are a dream so fondly I recall

I perceive a whisper I chase round and round

I hear at night my true love call

Heaven without you stands not so tall

The essence of love now walks the ground

The sweetest of angels sometimes fall

On the cross for water they gave you gall

Why have you forsaken me, the words resound

I hear at night my true love call

The sweetest of angels sometimes fall

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor

Sunday, May 25, 2025

The System

Pyramids of chiseled stones, crushing the bones, of the Hebrew slaves

Pyramids, Pharaohs' graves, home of the dead, created by anguish

Under the sweltering sun, the work is never done, death the only finish

In Manhattan, spires scrape the sky, above the dim cry of the working class

Wall Street, Bull Market, Baal is their Lord, mammon their reward

Tombs of doom, Zombies of the apocalypse, savagely kiss the empress

Defined as cruel, the Queen of Fools, in darkness she rules

The number of the beast, mocks the least, Satan cackles at his feast

They fornicate in brutal hate, devouring the blood of the common man

Calm waters run deep, the believer can keep what he has promised

For liars never realize that doom shall consume, a rancorous perfume

Ideals, they are real, a vision one cannot steal, take, break or shake

Systems come and systems go look at once mighty Egypt if you want to know

Egypt, a third world player, the construction of pyramids has now ceased

Powers rise and powers fall, a surge of a sentimental sorrow released

Greed is a cancer, an addict needing another hit, producing paradise counterfeit

Insanity inflicts vanity, you curse profanity, when one comes with humble truth

You shall know the deal, when we shall steal, your very youth

For we have wisdom to change the system it is happening now as we speak

Never confuse humility for being weak, soon we shall peak, all is not bleak

There is tremendous power in turning the other cheek

We are the star, you tarry near and far, in desire it is us you seek

POLISHED FRAGMENTS

Poet To The Poor

Monday, May 5, 2025

Defeating Thanos With The Infinity Gauntlet

Thanos mad god of Titan

Saturn’s moon

Evil and diabolical

A harbinger of doom

One day with great regret

Acquired the Infinity Gauntlet

Six gems upon the glove

Time, Space, Mind, Reality, Power, Soul,

It gave the mad god complete control

Over all save Love

Thanos for his beloved Mistress Death

Sought to choke all of life’s breath

All the heroes of planet Earth

Fought to prove their worth

X-Men, Avengers, Defenders

Were simply pretenders

Even the Incredible Hulk

Went to sulk

Thanos smashed them like flies

As he felt the highest of highs

But Adam Warlock

Gave Thanos a shock

And the Silver Surfer true

Did what none other could do

Warlock distracted Thanos in rage

As the Silver Surfer with cosmic power

Turned defeat to victory in that hour

The Infinity Gauntlet was lost I am told

To find it again one must be bold

But the universe will remain whole

Unless it is found by Pip the Troll

Bells And Whistles Thorns And Thistles

Sunday, April 27, 2025

Crown Of Thorns

HAIL THE KING!!!

Cries the voluptuous blonde

Edgar’s lustful eyes gaze upon

Hail the king!

With pleasure those words sing

Edgar sits upon a throne of gold

What is your wish?

Asks the blonde with fire

Tell me your secret desire

Edgar smiles content

“Surrender” Edgar commands

The blonde beauty she understands

The i n t e n t

“But first” she does proclaim

A crown worthy of your fame

Trumpets BLAST in unison

Crowds cheer as if victory won

The blonde returns

Her face full of mocking scorn

In her hand a ‘crown of thorns’

“NO!” Edgar tries to resist

The beauty transforms to hideous beast

Slimy green skin and large sharp teeth

“NO!” Edgar does insist

The monster raises the symbol of pain

Edgar screams vain

“It was good enough for My Son”

Booms the voice of the Holy One

Passion Of The Born Again Poet

Poverty of the heart

A beating bankrupt mechanical machine

Void of the thrill of exhilarating art

Pumping the essence of mere meager existence

Always giving but never truly living

Until Love as a grand mystical force

Became the source

Born again torn when I came to discover

That life itself was my sensual lover

To capture the universe in radical rhythmic verse

I kissed the desire

Embraced the fire

My blessing synonymous to the ultimate curse

I wondered in deepest compassion

The plight of the poor

The wickedness of war

I sought to define my place in time and space

In capturing the muse I was caught

In liberation and liberating I was taught

All the answers seemed to fade into the wind

And I guilty of the greatest sin

Convicted of looking with a blind eye

And being deaf to the overwhelming cry

It was change or die

To embrace the truth and forsake the lie

The hammer had struck

Fragments flew in diverse directions

Miserable woes, too numerous to mention

But the solace of my manic misery

Was the undeniable truth

I was free

They may give me a barb wire crown

And crucify me in the darkness on the edge of town

Still I have the answer that the prophet's sought

And life now full of the

Passion Of The Born Again Poet

Would never again be for naught

Check Out Polished Fragments

Buddha

Buddha was a merry old fellow

His skin and teeth the same shade of yellow

The fat old man was thought to be wise

And the words he taught opened many eyes

Though some contend they were all lies

Statues of Buddha now abound

In some he’s thin and in others round

They are supposed to be a good luck charm

But I feel in fact that they do harm

For statues of stone or gold or tin

When they are worshipped it is a sin

Buddha in his glory may sit on many a throne

But for me I’ll leave Buddha alone

Sunday, March 2, 2025

Born to Chase the Wind

The dusty old trail is calling me on

Come the morning and I will be gone

And all that will be left of you and me

Will just be a pleasant memory

I never made a promise to you my love

I didn’t take an oath to God above

I’ll remember you I tell you no lie

At least until the next gal comes by

Well I was born to chase the wind

It’s such a sad life my friend

Yeah I was born to chase the wind

And I see that it’s blowing again

I got a pack with a couple of things

I never know what tomorrow brings

Maybe sunshine or clouds overhead

I hope I’m lucky enough to find a bed

No I ain’t a bum don’t you say so

I’m a wandering worker a regular hobo

I’ll clean your house or wash your car

Then I’ll relax and play my guitar

Well I was born to chase the wind

It’s such a sad life my friend

Yeah I was born to chase the wind

And I see that it’s blowing again

My roof is the sky

On green grass I lie

Too tired to weep

Gently I sleep

Dreams inside my mind

Of some better time

Then comes the morn

And I’m back on my journ

Well I was born to chase the wind

It’s such a sad life my friend

Yeah I was born to chase the wind

And I see that it’s blowing again

With you good sir I’ll travel a while

Pass the whiskey and make me smile

I can tell you a tale or sing you a song

It really helps that the liquor is strong

Ever since Adam when he ate from the tree

All that man knew was misery

Talk about woman I think about Eve

If it weren’t for her we’d never grieve

Well I was born to chase the wind

It’s such a sad life my friend

Yeah I was born to chase the wind

And I see that it’s blowing again

Well one day I shall enter my rest

I’ll look God in the eye cause I’ve done my best

I may go to heaven I may go to hell

The future’s uncertain who can tell

But this I know as a solid fact

I’ll have good times for me to look back

Yes I’ll have just one request in the end

O God Allmighty let me catch the wind

Well I was born to chase the wind

It’s such a sad life my friend

Yeah I was born to chase the wind

And I see that it’s blowing again

Monday, February 17, 2025

I Love You With A Smile

After the sun sets the desert gets cold

There are many regrets when you’re old

I could have been the king with the right song

Fame and fortune don’t go to the strong

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

That you being you made life worthwhile

Thanks for the hand I held during the trial

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

Tyrone comes to church late just like last time

Never mind the bill this one’s on God’s dime

Go inside the words of life I will toss

I love you so much now here take your cross

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

That you being you made life worthwhile

Thanks for the hand I held during the trial

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

The devil’s in the pulpit preaching a storm

He’ll promise you heaven if you conform

All the little fascists with shiny boots

The lawyers and bankers are in cahoots

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

That you being you made life worthwhile

Thanks for the hand I held during the trial

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

A long time ago I stopped writing songs about true love

I once searched the Earth for an angel now I look above

I think I’ll put Erika in the song to make Evan happy

I don’t know what you call the new music but it’s snappy

The best thing is that we can say yes or no

But the sun will rise and the wind will blow

I’m growing my hair long in rebellion

Even the righteous have their moments of sin

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

That you being you made life worthwhile

Thanks for the hand I held during the trial

Did I ever say I love you with a smile

Friday, February 2, 2024

Missed The Bus

It was big and yellow all the children were mellow

We’d shared our lunches but never our Jello

Charlie was the driver he was a pretty nice fellow

As it drove down the streets all the cows would bellow

I missed the bus I missed the bus

I’ll blame it on Jesus

No real reason to make a fuss

I missed the bus I missed the bus I missed the bus

The cool kids sat in the back seat laughing with glee

Saying bad words I didn’t know their reality

Eric was the worst he was the wickedest of the wild

Year later I would find out he was an abused child

I missed the bus I missed the bus

I’ll blame it on Jesus

No real reason to make a fuss

I missed the bus I missed the bus I missed the bus

Well Sister Rosa Parks she wanted to keep her seat

But the police got involved it wasn’t sweet

So the oppressed rose up yeah they got themselves together

And right on the bus the world changed for the better

I missed the bus I missed the bus

I’ll blame it on Jesus

No real reason to make a fuss

I missed the bus I missed the bus I missed the bus

Buses driving full of flower power

The sixties was our finest hour

Don’t be mean and paint the bus green

My God what a well-oiled machine

They road those buses South for freedom the fare was bled

Some paid the ultimate price they wound up dead

Once I road those buses from Miami to Seattle

I looked out the window hating endless battle

Buses driving full of flower power

The sixties was our final hour

Don’t be mean and paint the bus green

My God a well-oiled machine

Saturday, July 22, 2023

On LaRue Avenue

I saw the blind man crossing the street

I heard the hungry child with no food to eat

I knew a homeless woman her roof was the sky

I feared the holy man whose love was a lie

On LaRue Avenue they sing the blues

Poor man never stops paying his dues

Welcome to the hood see the clues

On LaRue Avenue they live the blues

The Hustle never ends what are friends

A way out no doubt so the dreamer pretends

A scam a plan we’re gonna stick it to the man

Let the whole word burn I don’t give a damn

On LaRue Avenue they sing the blues

Poor man never stops paying his dues

Welcome to the hood see the clues

On LaRue Avenue they live the blues

Hey brother could you give a little time

I was born with rhythm but I need a rhyme

Meanwhile Pan patriots call home the lost

From this slow-motion commotion holocaust

On LaRue Avenue they sing the blues

Poor man never stops paying his dues

Welcome to the hood see the clues

On LaRue Avenue they live the blues

Sweet Mother Mary skin black as coal

Revolting against insulting ground control

Our best come to rest by violent means

Over and over like horrid movie scenes

Nameless civilians known by numbers alone

Rappers caught in traps let go a gruesome groan

The ghost of gentrification glowing mighty white

I promise that I’ll go down with a fight

On LaRue Avenue they sing the blues

Poor man never stops paying his dues

Welcome to the hood see the clues

On LaRue Avenue they live the blues