love in a cage

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Friday-fornicate or post

they say Fridays are good for fornicating but not for posting on Social Media
SM aside
I cannot care
the words pressing against my brain are going to burst my fucking capillaries
if I don’t shoot them out my itchy trigger fingers I’m doomed
torment is attempting to snake up my spine though I adore sidling reptiles
ever since I held that gorgeous velvet albino anaconda in fourth grade
now snakes are endangered too

if it blindsides me in a gallant rush of crimson blood, I’m ready for doomed
no overwhelming fear here
when you have kids you imagine leaping in front of the gun
they live
you don’t
I’m okay with this outcome, this is life
calm collective of a natural or unnatural end
the problem
too many yanking the ripcord at both ends
I’ve know for quite some time about dying
when you live with an elderly person, it makes the idea of un-being easier
my heart has taken on a personality all its own
a tragic character in some romantic play
maybe a comedy
she fades to black, scene four
I’m not depressed
not at all
rather realistic and ready
are we climate warming, are we going Armageddon-style
shit, I guess it’s going to be hot either way
why can’t it be water
I so love swimming
there is nothing like claiming peace underwater

I vote for clean water if still available
don’t want to drown in dirty icecap overflow

Crowns:pastel

I need crap, but eyes can’t see it

I needed to see the stars this morning desperate to dream with my eyes open. The moon too, as I was being quite demanding. But neither moon or stars presented themselves to me. The sky was trampled beneath a mosh pit of cloud crap. I stood there disappointed and aggravated over these sky-high brighteners failing to lift me in my time of neediness. I grew pissed in fact, at the audacity of mother earth to disappoint one of her own good-natured tenants. I’m the guy trying to keep happy up, up, up, and I’m looking up, up, up at a shitty sky. Fuck, I don’t deserve this. I’m so wonderful and should have stars whenever I need them.

While sulking for a well-deserved miracle, my brilliant Dachshund speaks to me in the dark morning cold. No not really. Someone was talking though. She was saying how I don’t appreciate the stars enough to see them. The stars and moon are ever-present. They haven’t been vanquished, my vision has. My ability to see beauty on the floor when its trampled beneath a mosh pit of crap. I should close my eyes and see whatever it is I need to lift my spirits. No one, hell not even a brilliant Dachshund, can do this for me. Good as I force my heart to be, I am not that good. There are selfish thoughts brewing and I blow them out like candles on a cake I covet.

I stand in awkward silence, having just been berated by an old-school friend. I allow her voice clarity and give into the honesty of this truth. I don’t appreciate all that is. There is a gorgeousness about this place, past the mosh pit of crap. No one can take the stars or moon from my eyes. Or yours. I adore nasty Dachshund breath, even though I loathe it. Mojo is warm and sweet. We are all blessed with the brilliant night sky, regardless of what transpires daily below it. There is up and we need to focus our vision there.

Now I am happy. It is time to take my son to school. He is a driver-in-training so he’s behind the wheel. We are cruising by a student who’s walking to school. A football falls from his backpack but goes unnoticed by him. In my pleasant beautiful calm, I roll down the passenger window and call out to the boy. While doing this my anxious arm swings out, pointing to the football behind him. Here, my eyeglasses go flying out the window. My son pulls the car over at the first opportunity. I leap out and sprint to find my glasses flattened. Damn

And I thought my vision was cured after my morning epiphany. Sometimes what can you do, but suck it up, cry or chuckle.

features

features

I wrote this at 6 am but decided to post in the pm. I didn’t listen or watch live inauguration coverage. I read President Trump’s speech just awhile ago online. Next to last paragraph of his speech had an uncanny ring. Hmm, I wonder what it all means…šŸ˜‰

“And whether a child is born in the urban sprawl of Detroit or the windswept plains of Nebraska, they look up at the same night sky, they fill their heart with the same dreams and they are infused with the breath of life by the same Almighty Creator.”

Goodnight, Gracie…

this is a time of us

this is a time of us
what of us
define who we are
can we do this
we can do this
move forward
from past
into future
wearing the hide of civilization
pumping the heart human
stowed tolerance
like discovering fire
hidden deep
dig down
rise up
can we do this
we can do this
gentle existence
is it not possible
it is possible
wearing the skin of humanity
the hide of civilization
without these trappings
naked bones
unable to survive
none can
none will
this is a time of us

SImon Says Peace

Simon Says Peace

bird in a box store

like a bird in a box store
flying above the steel trees
plastic plants in the far back
protected by strange stiff men in long pointed hats
and sickening grins
if you alighted on a nearby polished snowblower
you’d see the gnomes twinkling eyes
maybe a little happiness there
painted in by foreign hands
confused as you are now
there is expanse to fly
bountiful food on the floor
pools of little ponds
temperate climate
infinite grey to ease those once vigilant eyes
but no elegant altitude
no cryptic nimbus
no aqua-blue currentĀ 
must the grey below become black
to inspire you beyond
the sliding sheets of smudged glass

born you were to fly
but not in a box store
warblerwas in Lowe’s today and heard the little sparrows on the light fixtures

wonderfoul

hum
holiday sweetness swallowed
digested sugared out cells
‘wonderfoul’

something of substance now
coaxed to inspiration through stiffening fingers
by broad daylight shafts of the Bilco
they both open you know
two doors
easily transportingĀ giant dollhouse furniture
in and out
one should build choices
in life’s structure

as cornered animals never fare well
and cornered humans far worse
if it’s passion you seekĀ 
shove the cumbersome drafting table
or dense writing desk
by the Bilco
keep those doors open
welcome the frigid air
to stoke your muse
and let the distant sun
melt your inhibitions

Lion Dreams

Lion Dreams

shown a few times – he’s one of my favorites

orientation

when two human beings
cherish each other enough
to link as one,
the only orientation
that should matter
is that of their hearts

Piggyback/acrylic

frog and friend (detail) painted years ago

And to all you terrific moms out there, HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!

The Reversal

This is a special post for my friend, Fawn of Trigger’s Horse. One of my recent posts, showed a detail from this painting.Ā Fawn had asked if she could see the painting in its entirety. Because Fawn is such a lovely and special lady, her wish has been granted. I created this piece when I was in my 20’s. The concept behind it is simple – what if – what if American history was different? What if roles had been reversed? I loathe not only slavery, but the very concept at its brutal core.
So here it is Fawn – in its entirety. “The Reversal”
warDream well, my friend…