Magic Hours

more of this self-touch begins
as thoughts of touching my girl
than her requisite post-glow
turn and stroke me back

i’ve bragged to earth’s ends
bout being god’s greatest
giver, ever

makeshift and wielding midas touch
midst den full o’ boudoir
selfie takers,

really, i’m just the dastard
clown behind a magic
wand

and sneaky
fingers.

image: https://www.aliexpress.com/item/32823051143.html

image: https://abstract.desktopnexus.com/wallpaper/2449639/

Good's a Slow Learn (with heartburn)

A compassionate conversation with excerpt from a version of, ‘the Crunch’ from life-long inspiration, Bukowski. Response written as if shared between us and the bottle. My part, intended as humble respect. For full poem, click here: https://bukowski.net/poems/the_crunch.php

Too much
too little
or not enough

too fat
too thin
or nobody

laughter or
tears
or immaculate
non-concern

haters
lovers

and people are not good to each other


too settled
non-committal
more than’s
enough,

sucked out fat,
now too thin
this ain’t
no body,

nervous laughter,
few pure tears
over concern

lovers sleeping
beneath haters

people are not good
to each other, or
maybe good’s
just a slow
learn.

image: https://fineartamerica.com/featured/charles-bukowski-portrait-david-shumate.html

image: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r2UCT5ABGa4

Tunnelers

who’s looking for who? watching from same
station bench as every you passes on through
tunnel until hollowed out or seen by truth.
We’ve all ducked our heads and sucked on lucky
cigars while winds whistle in ears then on
through window cracked but an inch
in the same burned out car.

image: https://www.dailypost.co.uk/news/north-wales-news/picture-burned-out-holyhead-bathroom-16084495

image: https://steemit.com/art/@wilnonis/digital-painting-burned-out

Mr. Double Barrel Narrow Vision (through the dark a lamp lit for him)

let’s help us see. disarm the weapons inside we

a hit of dopamine laced with
grittiest of love, then
flooded with life
and gasoline,

in each heart compartment rests
a loaded gun he’s grippin’ soft
’til the slipping off of his
skin lined gloves,

and if his fingers ever taste
bare metal,

you’ll find my face all
twisted in with
shrapnel
of

all debts sun’s dust
shall settle.

image: https://www.ocregister.com/2019/06/19/struggling-with-depression-westminster-artist-finds-joy-in-giving-away-his-work-through-twitter-treasure-hunt/

image: https://www.aaa.si.edu/publications/essay-prize/2012-essay-prize-jennifer-stettler-parsons

Blueprints (Toolbelt at Ease)

written for the girl who makes our house a home.

i’m sorry for each hair-triggered
time i told another spy
or soldier where to
aim and shoot

as though i’d committed each finer
detail of layout’s blueprints to
this sketchy memory-

of life designed by and
that blooms only
in you,

i’ve been relieved my command
over anything, says glass and
its sifting sugar
sands

just happy over moons
to be a mood lighting
her little room.

image: https://www.inverse.com/article/61797-the-dangers-of-blue-light-may-be-overhyped

image: https://www.ebay.com/itm/Human-Heart-Blueprint-Diagram-Educational-Chart-Poster-24×36-inch-/143101170612

Peter Pander (Neverlands Forever)

i’ve always love loved that california
sun chowder served up sizzlin’
fits in summer pan,

oh peter, peter, pie faced
rat deceiver

did you dare love the girl
or did your neverland
just leave her

starin’ empty into telescope’s
glass eye making stars
shiver like lonely
birds.

image: https://geektyrant.com/news/amazing-dark-vision-of-peter-pan-short-film

image: https://www.pinterest.ca/pin/602004675163059193/?lp=true