stoney joanie and brother mark
one so far out there
one so in the dark
both of you gone now
livers' destroyed
with too many illicits
we all toyed
sorry that rhymed joanie, but it is all too dark as it is to add anymore. anyway, it rings..yeah, it rings. hope you both found that rush. candy kilt me too...that pus gut whore!
11/26/08
Alice in Wonderland
'Way-out Alice', you were a trip
lived life in Wonderland
and sweet as wildflower honey
as caring as the Salvation Army
met you on a summer junket
what a short-bus of a ride it was
two misfits, peas in a pod
both so unfamiliar, so damned outright odd
...I wonder where you took your art; I wonder where you are
lived life in Wonderland
and sweet as wildflower honey
as caring as the Salvation Army
met you on a summer junket
what a short-bus of a ride it was
two misfits, peas in a pod
both so unfamiliar, so damned outright odd
...I wonder where you took your art; I wonder where you are
11/13/08
misfit toy
gotta’ be somewhere where a guy like me can fit
the circle square peg ... misfit toy
I’m not understanding that much of anything
... that damned much anymore
bail out bail out bail out [sic]
if only for a ‘chute
thought I’d jump without
... still may someday
this side that side what side
fuckin’ green eggs and ham
Sam I am…yeah, Sam I ain’t
red white blue, blanc gone blank
Georgia, Wasilla, Qatar, Korea
all fucking loons if you ask me, ah
... ah, but you didn’t
so go ahead man and do it
dual trigger finger man do it do it do it
squeeze off the red lever round of hell
take us all outta’ here with one big flash
I’m ready, I’m ready, bail out bail out [sic]
blah fucking rah ooh rah doo dah day
gotta’ be somewhere where a guy like me can fit
the circle square peg ... misfit toy
‘cause I’m not understanding that much of anything
... that damned much anymore
the circle square peg ... misfit toy
I’m not understanding that much of anything
... that damned much anymore
bail out bail out bail out [sic]
if only for a ‘chute
thought I’d jump without
... still may someday
this side that side what side
fuckin’ green eggs and ham
Sam I am…yeah, Sam I ain’t
red white blue, blanc gone blank
Georgia, Wasilla, Qatar, Korea
all fucking loons if you ask me, ah
... ah, but you didn’t
so go ahead man and do it
dual trigger finger man do it do it do it
squeeze off the red lever round of hell
take us all outta’ here with one big flash
I’m ready, I’m ready, bail out bail out [sic]
blah fucking rah ooh rah doo dah day
gotta’ be somewhere where a guy like me can fit
the circle square peg ... misfit toy
‘cause I’m not understanding that much of anything
... that damned much anymore
11/5/08
A Talking Head Jones
The buzz is wearing off quickly
Like the the crash from a sugar high
What news will be the next addiction
What fix will now give fill to the void
November 4th, the day I went sober
After near two years of the same daily dose
well well, it did not take long:
http://greggorywcrow.blogspot.com/2008/11/here-we-go-again-2.html
Like the the crash from a sugar high
What news will be the next addiction
What fix will now give fill to the void
November 4th, the day I went sober
After near two years of the same daily dose
well well, it did not take long:
http://greggorywcrow.blogspot.com/2008/11/here-we-go-again-2.html
11/1/08
what is this thing
what is this thing
that has called me back
my attention awakened
now what do I do
simple sweet taste of taboo
or birth of the perfect poem
what brought me back
for more, more, more
warm moist lips
in my mind's eye
scent of wildflower honey
I drink in the nectar
what pheromone is in the air
from across neighboring border
that dares to me the risqué
of the morphing of Gregor Samsa
Je sui prêt
Elle est prete
C’est tout pres
C’est loin d’ici
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
that has called me back
my attention awakened
now what do I do
simple sweet taste of taboo
or birth of the perfect poem
what brought me back
for more, more, more
warm moist lips
in my mind's eye
scent of wildflower honey
I drink in the nectar
what pheromone is in the air
from across neighboring border
that dares to me the risqué
of the morphing of Gregor Samsa
Je sui prêt
Elle est prete
C’est tout pres
C’est loin d’ici
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
somehere up around Canada
Chill (e) in the air mister
As the heat from flame rose red
Ballast increased and the thin skin swelled… viva, viva… Viagra
Word of a nor’easter was spreading… yes spreading about
Protected I felt, as I cast cares to the breeze and lifted off
Gander
The higher I reached, the greater was the blow
I had anticipated being rocked… I knew I would be stoned
Northward it seemed I was going, or at least high to the Gods for tea and a chat
As fate would have it, the ballast was lost all too soon
Perhaps a hole in the skin had opened and relieved the pressure
The skin deflated, as it were, and the flight was over
“All too soon”, she said, “all too soon” … “you have invaded the shallows of my bay, goose”… “now penetrate my depths, else I let you drown”
to me, this was…
New Found Land
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
As the heat from flame rose red
Ballast increased and the thin skin swelled… viva, viva… Viagra
Word of a nor’easter was spreading… yes spreading about
Protected I felt, as I cast cares to the breeze and lifted off
Gander
The higher I reached, the greater was the blow
I had anticipated being rocked… I knew I would be stoned
Northward it seemed I was going, or at least high to the Gods for tea and a chat
As fate would have it, the ballast was lost all too soon
Perhaps a hole in the skin had opened and relieved the pressure
The skin deflated, as it were, and the flight was over
“All too soon”, she said, “all too soon” … “you have invaded the shallows of my bay, goose”… “now penetrate my depths, else I let you drown”
to me, this was…
New Found Land
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Borrow a Line of Cat
morning has broken...like the first dawn ...
moon has covered the shift well
the Eagle has arisen
he stands erect...chest thick and proud
ready to pounce...the maidenhead of sun
to grab yoni flesh with talons
and pull the prize close for the taking
but wait, this roll call is not routine
no, this is unfamiliar formation
something new and fresh...with hint of jasmine scent
a flower red...or creature of ground
sparkling like a jewel, the iris deep as Solomon's mine
and though he has soared high and far
his eyes have not before seen this creature
no, not in this life it seems
no, this time he pulsates with new life and vigor
a curiosity...
his loins are hot, the molten liquid ready...
a entire village submerge he could with ease
but this thing he would not vanquish no
rather keep for admiration.... for study and for frolic...
learn it's ways...write it's lesson's ... a passion play
drink daily from it's pond...lotus of honey nectar
let this creature have its way as it wishes
be at its command...ready to serve
yet weary from the past days' flight
see, an eaglet he is not
on this cold and misty morning
he simply wishes for a spot of warmth
and silky comfort
somewhere to place his head awhile
he could stay inside the warmth forever it seems
throbbing and releasing hot passion
throbbing and releasing hot passion
throbbing and releasing hot passion.....and
at the distant bus stop the eagle hears a voice call out
'Alex, is that you?'....'you've gotten so big'
this beautiful black young mother stands...proud booty round peaks
eagle grins an internal grin
yes, he says, yes I have
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
moon has covered the shift well
the Eagle has arisen
he stands erect...chest thick and proud
ready to pounce...the maidenhead of sun
to grab yoni flesh with talons
and pull the prize close for the taking
but wait, this roll call is not routine
no, this is unfamiliar formation
something new and fresh...with hint of jasmine scent
a flower red...or creature of ground
sparkling like a jewel, the iris deep as Solomon's mine
and though he has soared high and far
his eyes have not before seen this creature
no, not in this life it seems
no, this time he pulsates with new life and vigor
a curiosity...
his loins are hot, the molten liquid ready...
a entire village submerge he could with ease
but this thing he would not vanquish no
rather keep for admiration.... for study and for frolic...
learn it's ways...write it's lesson's ... a passion play
drink daily from it's pond...lotus of honey nectar
let this creature have its way as it wishes
be at its command...ready to serve
yet weary from the past days' flight
see, an eaglet he is not
on this cold and misty morning
he simply wishes for a spot of warmth
and silky comfort
somewhere to place his head awhile
he could stay inside the warmth forever it seems
throbbing and releasing hot passion
throbbing and releasing hot passion
throbbing and releasing hot passion.....and
at the distant bus stop the eagle hears a voice call out
'Alex, is that you?'....'you've gotten so big'
this beautiful black young mother stands...proud booty round peaks
eagle grins an internal grin
yes, he says, yes I have
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
The Water's Edge
Ship to shore,
Hand in hand,
Together we walk,
This sun drenched sand
Footprints we leave
Water to erase
No sign we’ve tread
This sacred space
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Through that hidden door
Walk we all must
Ship to shore,
Hand in hand,
Cast me on the water
Scatter me on the sand
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Hand in hand,
Together we walk,
This sun drenched sand
Footprints we leave
Water to erase
No sign we’ve tread
This sacred space
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Through that hidden door
Walk we all must
Ship to shore,
Hand in hand,
Cast me on the water
Scatter me on the sand
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Horace
Twist off the heads
of these Canopic jars
Spill out the putrid remnants
of what once were me
Breathe fresh soul
into this dry corpse of a man
Prematurely buried
from empty years of hopelessness,
sadness and despair
Years of standing naked
screaming into a crowd,
no ears hear - no eyes see
Unwrap these bandage fetters
and set this mummy free
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
of these Canopic jars
Spill out the putrid remnants
of what once were me
Breathe fresh soul
into this dry corpse of a man
Prematurely buried
from empty years of hopelessness,
sadness and despair
Years of standing naked
screaming into a crowd,
no ears hear - no eyes see
Unwrap these bandage fetters
and set this mummy free
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Common Sense
That sense is common is perhaps the greatest paradox
Words written between the lines are few and must be chosen carefully…
Words read between the lines are many and must be reaped wisely
If one meditates on nothing, does one then attain nothing?
If one offers too much paradox to the mind, then the mind becomes riddled with paradox
If the perception of what I perceive is to be altered so that my current perception is no longer what I currently perceive, then my current perception must be that of the past which is being perceived in the future
Ah, The impossibility of self-portrayal
The paradox of choice
If we live our lives in uncertainty, then how can we be sure that we are uncertain?
A circle begins where it ends
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Words written between the lines are few and must be chosen carefully…
Words read between the lines are many and must be reaped wisely
If one meditates on nothing, does one then attain nothing?
If one offers too much paradox to the mind, then the mind becomes riddled with paradox
If the perception of what I perceive is to be altered so that my current perception is no longer what I currently perceive, then my current perception must be that of the past which is being perceived in the future
Ah, The impossibility of self-portrayal
The paradox of choice
If we live our lives in uncertainty, then how can we be sure that we are uncertain?
A circle begins where it ends
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Sun Dance
flesh pierced
sharpened bone skewers
meat pole sacrifice
sinew tugging and pulling
ripping pieces of him away
human kabob...all he ever wanted
To honor the elders
...Leonard Peltier
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
sharpened bone skewers
meat pole sacrifice
sinew tugging and pulling
ripping pieces of him away
human kabob...all he ever wanted
To honor the elders
...Leonard Peltier
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
Broadhead SinTax Dialogue
Living life on the edge of trust
She stands back against the wall…
facing him as she draws the bow towards her breasts
Her, in her summer dress… slightly higher than mid-thigh
A light scent of Jasmine honey detectable in the air
He, looking like Bogey stepped out of ‘African Queen’…
cig cocked in the corner of his mouth… long ash waiting to drop
He holds the nock and pulls back the arrow… broadhead tips the shaft aimed straight at her heart
Taxed to the brink, he takes a drag and inhales hard to steady the hand… fear invades him
Such commitment betwixt the twain
Living on the edge of temptation
She sits, back against the wall
summer dress now creeps higher yet on thigh
legs slightly spread… not whorish in manner, but rather seductress
He, looking like Bogey stepped out of ‘African Queen’…
cig cocked in the corner of his mouth… long ash waiting to drop
He now holds the bow… stretched in full arc of the draw
digits clutch the string and nock
His aim is true, his intent yet unknown
Phallus tips the arrow shaft… sin, they both quiver… lump in throats
A light scent of Jasmine honey now pervades the air
Her heart pounds anticipation… pleasure or pain
He takes a drag and inhales deep to steady the hand… testosterone surging
Does she/doesn’t she … will he/won’t he…
Such commitment betwixt the twain
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
She stands back against the wall…
facing him as she draws the bow towards her breasts
Her, in her summer dress… slightly higher than mid-thigh
A light scent of Jasmine honey detectable in the air
He, looking like Bogey stepped out of ‘African Queen’…
cig cocked in the corner of his mouth… long ash waiting to drop
He holds the nock and pulls back the arrow… broadhead tips the shaft aimed straight at her heart
Taxed to the brink, he takes a drag and inhales hard to steady the hand… fear invades him
Such commitment betwixt the twain
Living on the edge of temptation
She sits, back against the wall
summer dress now creeps higher yet on thigh
legs slightly spread… not whorish in manner, but rather seductress
He, looking like Bogey stepped out of ‘African Queen’…
cig cocked in the corner of his mouth… long ash waiting to drop
He now holds the bow… stretched in full arc of the draw
digits clutch the string and nock
His aim is true, his intent yet unknown
Phallus tips the arrow shaft… sin, they both quiver… lump in throats
A light scent of Jasmine honey now pervades the air
Her heart pounds anticipation… pleasure or pain
He takes a drag and inhales deep to steady the hand… testosterone surging
Does she/doesn’t she … will he/won’t he…
Such commitment betwixt the twain
poem©GW Crow 2008. all rights reserved.
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