counting words

don't even have a thought to start out with
an idea of where it all might be going
plus two who knew he might be counting words
again plus two much time has passed between book
she knew it and no clue why he can't make it
out of the doldrums strong wind beneath a sail
too little attention paid to the sunset sky every night
change the hair style not content laid out on the first page
swollen eyes start to shut like the cover of the book
time to breathe just breathe and tomorrow will be here
before he knows it will be the day they say
over maybe one too many times running on not out
all he has is time ironically he won't wear a watch
stares skyward even if he is cross eyed and
everyone else is confused three days until he arrives
like wind from the west it's what the night will do
if you let it...

high above (under) all these trees

drove by the old spot

now an eye sore

empty restaurant

nearly two years closed

where I used to sit

and watch the sunset

where I sat to watch the moon

and stars rise into positions

high above and now under

all these trees I can’t

see the sky unless I look

straight up

drove by the old pad

and porch number two

where I sat four years

alone eye and I found myself

there and everything

changes little changes

as if you might not notice

until everything is replaced

by what we think we know

is never enough

and what we know is even less

they have got to have a motive

for all the lies tricking troops

into fighting these unwinnable wars

drove by the veterans hospital today

though of old Joe Flanagan

what would he have to say now

his spot gone as well

talked about a challenged eagle

always there I liked to listen to his

conversations with himself

modern day madman

drove myself crazy today

with thoughts starting before 2am

when head hit pillow finally

drove by a broken weeping willow

branch blocked the road

had to go around

just like in the dream

face to wall eyes closed

fighting some unwinnable war

apology accepted

if you don’t happen to like the tone…

climb a spark

outside the beagle barks

the night's already dark

an hour ago left alone

to climb a spark like a star

the first one eye see

the fastest light to reach down deep

beneath the hardened surface

quick breath like a crocodile

then back under awhile longer

as eye hold this breath and run

into the other room quick

for a drink to soothe this fire burn

lights flashing in eyes

like lightening in clear skies

sirens blare as if they were chasing OJ

back east down the highway

for some reason remembering

being in Lakeville and don't remember why

what reason for that memory to be

etched in the brain after all the rain

collecting the thoughts drowning in back yard puddles

where all the moss continues to grow

all through the night while others sleep

straining eyes under one bulb

but enough light to keep the night going

another hour at least extra cushioned seat

people walking outside voices carry strange

can't tell which street they are on

the temperature has dropped fifteen degrees

since five thirty one of these nights

might bring a shot right through one of these screens

even if it's only smoke

he hears the downtown train

it must be eleven o'five...

nothing concluded 155

had he not turned around

headed back to the springs

might have missed birth of G

the baby G nearly 24 hours

without a name

that's gangster

not really

nothing concluded

on the birth

of nephew number two

no idea what kind

of wonderful this baby

was born into

still nothing concluded

millions of moments

missed all the fatherhood

thoughts directed my way

it might be what I need

or not

nothing concluded

one step at a time

Saturday trip out west

at last summer in Crestone

must be as beautiful

as the family

brother brought

out into the middle

of nowhere and made it

his somewhere

nothing concluded

elevated like never before

nearly too high

needs to take the trip to the curb

nothing concluded

another night...

end of a moment

moments of meditation

a moth enters the area and sits

and then that moment has ended

and the voices outside don’t help

revisiting that quiet place

within the mind

only those who seek

have any hope to find

understanding we may have lost

at birth finding it tough

thinking about the future

of the earth…

driving too much

708/2005 1030pm

there are always

a few more thoughts

that this kind of night

will shake out of the mind

wind in the trees

after and during

a heavy rain

left leg

ninety degrees

foot falling asleep

over right knee

trip over that

when realizing

and waking too quick

there are even

thoughts driving

cigar lit in hand

punched out

thirty minutes

no privacy

police behind

until back to work

the day didn’t bring

the pen to work

to record the thoughts

at the moment

no privacy

carriage guy wonders around

the lot trying to think

of something to say

noticing a random window open

cigar smoke out the sunroof

shouldn’t even waste

the fuel driving too much

as it is…

the general lives

down at the bus stop an orange carriage from
the Home Depot it's the general's only possession
aside from his spray bottle
and the store owner may repossess
at times but he always seems to get it back
stashed in random parking lot bushes
that occur every time they pave another wooded area 
for the newest strip mall
but this one isn't the newest
and the hiding spot isn't the best
he somehow always has his carriage
today I saw the general
sitting on the pavement
next to and under his orange carriage
didn't see his face
only one time seen the general's face
scarred as if burned
he's one of the many homeless on the east side of
this city of champions
so there are many who beg 
to differ with the title the city holds 
and the championship
they are lucky to have shoes in this city
at least the general lives on...

act to distract

another attack

act to distract

from what’s really going on

elsewhere it’s all barbaric

how many brave dead souls

for a lie

another attack

act to distract

and create more fear

in the hearts of those

travelling anyone notice

the hike in gas prices

how many dead now

another attack

act to distract

wherever you are

riding the train

driving a car

how much by the end

of the war won’t end

white house fenced in for a reason

to keep the secrets in

another attack

act to distract

realizing the end of freedom

or blind to everything

really going on…

after zero hour

after zero hour

nearly half over

the head of some

will take time

to realize

his purpose

is to stimulate

thought

all over the place…

reality consideration

it may be one of the only ways

he can stay relaxed unwind

and not get hurt in the process

only sword he carries is this pen

one hundred percent most of the time

brand new bandana

pulled down over an extra large forehead

around four years of knotted hair

it'll keep him sane despite all the rain

two and a half hours and everything seems the same

so much for taking photos of the dawn

the rain has ruined that idea

before it actually becomes a reality

consideration and the wind tonight

rattles the windows of the porch

where he sits wondering what the sky

looks like high above the storm

start it one day and finish it the next

only minutes apart when reality is given proper

consideration and cross-eyed tired and dreaming

of stars on the new moon auspicious

to the newest member of the family

born into this world on a seven

the reality of still life on the porch

becomes a consideration once the ground

is completely saturated and morning

remains anticipated...

after all it's what i mean

after all this time expired
as he splashes water on his face
to try to come to grips with where
it might be going to be tough
to force himself down behind some screen
if you know what I mean
after all no one ever asked him what he meant by meditation as blunt
as he can be sitting under and in front of fans
trying to keep cool under all these humid nights
maybe you know what I mean
after all have turned the page on tonight
closed eyes until tomorrow comes naturally
nothing is forced to be anywhere but where it is
do you know what I mean
and what if he came at you
without warning blazing thoughts
pens switch hand ambidextrously penning thoughts
others may never stop to notice just as powerful
as the smell of roses
do you know what I mean
after all it's what I mean
to say and somehow get off track
like a runner with somewhere else to be
reality strikes twice him then me
what do I mean
after all of us is all he must trust
nirvana or bust
a drawing of inspiration
drawn but more
after all is said and done
it's what I do it for
do you know what I mean...

nothing concluded 154

it's possible he will miss

the birth of the second

and he promises he won't

rush when he gets word

it's possible that three hours

is too long of a ride

to try to sprint to the beat

the labor happy healthy

really all that matters

safe passage to the life

nothing concluded

to be continued

on until some truth

is revealed hours

might pass before any

understanding is reached

from where he stands

far from the brother

he grew up with that entire

part of his life seems

that far away as

the dog barks

nothing concluded

taking the silence

from the warm night air...

nothing concluded 153

nothing concluded

always meant

it was going to continue

until completely

out of steam

started in the backyard

two sticks

just buried the bird

nothing concluded

a brother bond

the sibling connection

joined as well by the

sister strength

it's a family thing

nothing concluded...

all the ways

all the space
left empty can be made into
another thought
interrupts switches gear
without hesitation or warning
all the thought
brought forth from this room
could stack and reach the roof
repairs do take place as needed
this spot to collect
all the thought
wonder still where to put
all this thought
all the space
taken up isn't much
for someone this age
seems as the minutes tick by
now we all know the thought
we could go at any time
all the prayers
won't keep anyone from
an eternal nap
for the mortal shell
spun around until dizzy
and then ten years pass
all the time
seems to vanish without
a thought all along
taking notes on the progress
everyday might bring
all the time
not wasted as some have said
all the time
making old wounds bleed
for no good reason
all the space
eventually fills up fast
furious not made it further
all the time
wasted complaining should
be thinking of
all the ways
out of the box...

we can't win

15 days ago it was 45˚

and nobody could understand

why it was so incredibly cold

and now the 80˚ humidity arrives

and no one is happy about this either

it’s New England and the weather

is all over the place at times

like this sea breeze

or mountain air would be nice

no such luck it’s stuffy and stagnant…

but better

it's not the same as if I were

at some café somewhere

bean town or the apple

Crestone or Amsterdam

it's the same hand holding the pen

not likely the same moleskin

it's possible anything is possible

under the cover of dark and clouds

and two out of three ain't bad

it's not the same as it once was

merely one or two years ago

my own wooden table

same table my grandfather

used to sit at not some crappy booth

with gum stuck to the bottom of the table

lit as I desire not some heat lamp

and smoke stained glass windowed walls

on two out of four sides

it's not the same Brocktown I once knew

a spot where I could sit for hours

and no one would even know I was there

used to sit out on the front porch even in the rain

back then in solitude there

as I am here out on the back porch

it's not the same

and I am glad for that

it's not the same but better

no matter who you ask and what they say

everything about what I do is better

it's not the same it's better

than any wish list fulfillment

or dream dotted together in some journal...

eye witness both

thirty years and still haven't
figured out what the hell
eye am doing here
in front of everyone eye know
and those eye will never know
what to make of sunrise and sunset
those two nearly perfect moments of each day
most of the time eye witness both...

all this time wishing something
would happen and send this thought
train rocket style into orbit
still struggling with all the thoughts
about what eye might want to be
when eye grow up no matter what
eye will not be happy with the end
of ts Eliot's life he did pen
wasteland and wound up in
the church of England
two simultaneous moments in time
as far away as they can be
eye witness both

stretching this truth here because
these moments here are bendable
and no lives depend on any decisions
made out on the back porch
as close as eye get to back woods
small fire at my feet
and in one month it will be summer
doesn't even feel like spring
and eye witness both...

45 degrees in May

it's 45° and it's almost June

it's new england and the saying goes

if you don't like the weather

wait a minute it will change

how true it is

the night slips way out of reach

down beside the seat

on the other side of the car

his nose is running

by the end of the tenth cigarette

of the night back wondering

how it could be so late

when he's got to wake so early...

listen, he says

here we go

another serial cluster of calls

coming at all hours

caller ID shows when it is him

from now on it's his choice

of whether or not he answers the call

curiosity usually makes him pick up

the ringing phone what's on the other end

what's he got to say tonight

he's not doing anything else

might as well give a listen tonight

claims he can turn on his CD player

with his mind and pause it too

'listen' he says

as he proves his talent over the phone

it's all he can do to keep from laughing

he's dreaming his own rage against the machine

that no one can somehow avoid

and get caught 'pause, you hear that?'

and so he lights a stinky clove

someone else left behind

he sits in the corner

almost ten minutes

and never stayed on the same subject

more than 45 seconds or so

he claims he is somehow

a JEDI knight

science fiction and reality mesh

in his boxed up bedroom

sharing the house with his mom

nothing wrong with the picture

it's simply what it's become

after thirty something years...

nothing concluded 152

as the eleven o'clock

purple line pulls

into town

blows a horn

or a some sort of whistle

because the sound

of a train

isn't loud enough

for some people

need the noise

nothing concluded

and the ringing

into his ears

won't soon go away

twenty-four hours now

and he will

pause to load up

another cigarette

a day of rest tomorrow

some sleeps at this hour

therefore there is no reason

for a taxi to be leaning on

the horn out in front of the house

bad enough the sirens

blare down silent sleeping street

strobe light wake up

the neighborhood false alarm

nothing concluded

nothing more than

teenager boredom

one page from completion

it seems

not conclusion

nothing concluded

almost put down

the pen anyway

don't know how he would

explain the blank page

so he continues

until he is blue

with smoke of all kinds

bud vase built into the dash

how convenient still

nothing concluded

entering the home stretch

feeling sleep

right around the corner

turned it down already

ready to rest

nothing concluded...