Poetry Geist

Facebook Friend

2012-02-11T08:56:00.000-08:00

One of my faceBook friends
Crafts couplets in her Status Change;
What she begins, she always ends,
A brief flash of fervor in genius range.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Jousting at the Cross Roads

2012-02-04T15:05:00.000-08:00

"Patient horseman and husband be
…If you’re joustin’
…down in Houston vicinities
"With your spit-fire hard hittin’ horse

"At cross-roads danger lurks:
…crossing foes’ lines
…times of the signs
…dark dusky skies
"Pay attention, you’ll stay alive
as Patience is virtue of thine's...

Thus:
...at cross-roads
...you stay on course.”

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

2012-02-02T03:19:00.000-08:00

Face
by Pat Darnell

Why is it so hard to forget the Face of one's enemy?
Eh?
Is it correction of our spirit as we ponder menaces that pervade our existence?
Could be.
Does one feel stalked and tracked down in every turn of the screw;
surely peace will endure,
but remember,
our patch of face is enemy to others we will never know.

Otherwise, how can we explain our enemies.
Do we say: "Don't shoot till you see the yellow of their eyes?"

One's face is his life:
the face of newborn,
face of his identity,
face of his game,
then the face of his senility,
and in the end it is his face of death.

In a universe far far away
that parallels one's own home,
one's enemy, it turns out, was no enemy at all.
Your FACE is a miracle.
It is a map of one's sensors,
and a target of all that is human.
meditate vastness of ruminative FACE.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Modern Warfare

2012-02-02T02:41:00.000-08:00

Show no Mercy!!

by Pat Darnell

Graphics that inhabits
Our house and lawn
... do the best
... to calm the storm

We are an uproarious crowd
And we usually get very loud;
Because the cute Avatars in us are proud
Of our techno-cosmic shrouds ...

The thing that is new
is 'Modern Warfare Two' --
Seems it is too fun for Pat 2 and his crew;
They go to their various homes
and boost each other's gnomes

And laughingly slaughter each other
with their sisters and mothers at home;
Murdering each other with machete
... with daggers, machine guns, and curette
Virtually, they do, while hardly breaking a sweat.

So, certainly, we are not complaining ...
... for this strange techno loop remaining ...
In our homes, gardens, and glade;
No, we are pleased, satisfied, and gratified;
Their virtual blood-soaked battles are ratified ...
...
We just wish Mid Eastern heads
could learn also to play war instead.

Style

2011-12-20T03:25:00.000-08:00

A poem by Rudyard Kipling might not go something like this:

Rowely, Rowely

Rudy is his name
Twerpdom his domain
And his kin flourish truly.
They run to his camp
Their eyes so damp,
They claw to capture his sight;
To see as he does -- unruly
That the stars of the night
Do millions number
Hanging in order and harmony
Rudy's lack of substance
and pseudo-rebellion
Could rip constellations asunder.
With no one stopping to ask: Why?
With not one person asking why.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

I Remember Sail Cloth

2011-12-18T07:31:00.000-08:00

Tuft of thundercloud trailing anvil head,
For a moment dove eating crumb of bread
From bronze rail before flight
With point on horizon to sight
Full wind, full rudder churns freshwater white.

Out to quiet sailing had set we
With jib and full sail cast
As have sturdy fellows past.

I could hear almost the Old Salt
From his boat in briny harbor forgot
Talking as frapped his rope
'... Bloody Lake Mich, choppy old moat,
'... Choppy when the wind blows,
'... Meaner'n a blistered nanny goat.'

Leaning with gaunt arm bare
Upon bronze gunwale, pushing aside thick hair,
Squinting ignobly in bright sun-glare
With meaty fingers tugs at pipe there
Aboard chapped lips points to east horizon
Of inland mare, fashions scowl for his next quip
As great barrier of clouds form at fast clip

'... Tha' water my life did I impart,
'... Not much left for Almighty God to sort.'

Flipping pocket flap open like a hatch
Wriggling fingers while digging for a match
To strike against all that scratch
Of a standard jaw, put he then pipe to pucker,
Match to pipe bowl, sucked he flame to tobacco;

Returning to his task murmuring just audible
Pipe clenched tightly in teeth and jaw
Spatted he to indicate his final card
Whispering as puckers he a humid draw:

'... Wha'cha gonna do ... Wha's one to do ...
'... Wha' character does she reflect when tide low
'... How can tide pool stand for long
'... in ancient thirsty sand?'

Calm smile now on his face in half shadow ...

'... To where my life depart; to live a mariner
'... For what did I impart these hands?'

I remember sail cloth masted, trimmed taut
To gather wind for friends at steady knot
A chance to depart on lake large as a sea
And to cross horizon in time eternity
With promise for life, love and for loss.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

2011-11-12T06:59:00.000-08:00

Before the creative spirit departed
They spoke in their childlike voice
To breathe the gift of life or not
Is a personal note of choice

I breathe the stone of life
Remarkable is stays unknown
Have mercy Lord over my soul
Indeed it is a poem.

© 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Pianissimo

2011-11-06T10:09:00.000-08:00

To live
Silvery string
Ivory key, brass pedal
Power of sound resides
In taut potential beckoning

Foot upon one stanza
Soul lingers yet
Broadcasting message to hand
Tenders the fingers...

Soul ... sparks ... from arch
to digit, to the toe --
Pressure of sounds on forehead
With timbre ... melody unfolds.

Once to inhale ... twice to exhale
Crescendo ... decrescendo
Outlast physical sense
Phrase lingers ... open mouth.

Let fly spirit
Hammer weighted stones
Upon granite marble perch
Music soothes passion searches.

Piano... of music house fame
Launches spirit to heights
Only spirit can measure
and fades to pianissimo.

That above stony paths fly
Footfalls beyond human heart
Mastery of soul-feet's cry
Release all that is inside.

© 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Dream Futures

2011-11-05T12:36:00.000-07:00

Window to view a soul
Mullions stacked six over six
And mullets for panes
Frigate birds circle to poll
Zoftig female ling to eat
By warm gulf craft yaws
Chance to embark for talk...

Today journey ended yesterday
In circumspect... clouds glowed
As embers in ashes
Against sky with no flaws
In constant com
With the one I love
Sky beautiful in back drop.

Unable to photograph hugeness
Resigned, I take photos
To my mind, to my mind ...
Scene remains ever there
Vision for some dream future.

© 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Lost Boss

2011-10-17T16:32:00.000-07:00

We have to get to Whitehurst!
Tuaca, Liqueur.
Cryptomatic
Rikki Likki con Nikki

Wait ...

That has merit!

Craft-o-matic
Anchormeister
Dart-inspection on her blouse
FAST FOOD ZEN
19:56 You only remember wha' cha'
Need to rememba', Atlanta.

Jones Beach
Long Island, New Yoik. Watching

The Sunrise.

The desert is your toilet, Jack.
Yarn Shoppe?
Grits and ... See you don't really
Have to pray for toilet paper.

20:20 blatantly cute...
Big A's!

Poindexter and the Metal Benders
Peggy snorted again.

Czech is in the male.
Vocal gender switching.
Lost boss.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Golf Man

2011-10-15T16:03:00.000-07:00

Muttering to his own mind distance and wind measurement
While Falstaff-tans approach, they are
Consuming and spreading out along borders
Some things one must take in faith ...

That miscreants, hellions, and twerps
Cannot prevail beyond the number seven,
And what is it they consume? Besides
Culture, their diet demands, gorging morals.

Wherewithal of deepening fracture,
Could tempt the perfect par eight to sway?
He, Golf Man, might at Fall be perfect in game
... perfect in stature,
In judging turf men's perfecting grass grain -
In conquering swells, grade and drift in gale.

Winter wave, late tee, lengthening shadow ball,
Perfect arcing hook at 300 pine tall
No meager male shall stall his golf
For love of tempestuous, herald par -
One cannot assume big boys tote and play here -
The association is more intimate by far.

Tyrants on steel horses cough,
Can come only so close to the life in golf.

Absent of guile,
Golf Man has a two lie --

Hardly noticing at all
... staid he cogitates the ball,
Hairy hands reach deep to putt
... heeds he no earthly call,
No wall of wind to overcome
... he putts to bird
Finally to golf god
... speaks he the third:

What a swing --
What an up lay --
'nift, the brass cup is stirred.

God, oh what may be asked
... more of any Golf Man.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

I Miss My Children as they Dream

2011-10-13T12:51:00.000-07:00

I miss my children as they dream,
In value times oft' it seems
Escape they to finer place
As clouds gather over landscapes

My children wax in Summer's grace
Cry not while in their place
Roam though I a babe as old
Battling too till I'm aloft the world --

That then is conclusion
my children's dreams ...
They ride free a'stride stallions
Claiming pastures for each's scheme

I've but purchased my bare plot
I have called in my delusions
Articulated on high things
Given to do lower; my illusion.

Primitives would gather to my grave
In stiff fog of dreams I have,
Scoffing unrelenting ...
Crying not, nor laughing they.

Yet I come not in spectacular times
To biddings of forgotten souls
I strive for shelter ours
Before grave in life's unfolding hours

I miss my children as they dream
For I alone can know them to value it
Wanting each their right to my spirit
A portion my children rightfully redeem.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

In Che Direzione le tue Lacrime

2011-10-11T12:36:00.000-07:00

In che' direzione le tue lacrime?
Dove vanno sempre, in preoccupazione o per bene?
Singhiozzi di incoraggiamento ...
Il messaggero di dolore
Visitando gli amanti separati
Che il loro affetto andra' via domani.

Questa casa e' vuota!
Non c'e' nessuna vita, potra' essere perche'
Non c'e' nessuna promessa e il dolore e' profondo!

Quando ti sei svegliata in terrore e hai parlato
... " No, per favore, No " ...
E' questa la paura di sbagliare
Nell' amore cosi' profondo
Nell' oscurita'
Senza fondo.

Abituati nelle tue lacrime
E le mie. Col sapore di sale.
Le preoccupazione del presente
Di essere da soli e senza dell' altro.

In che' direzione le tue lacrime?
Dove vanno sempre, in preoccupazione,
O per ill bene che' ha creato.

[For Marinell | 1991]
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

2011-10-09T12:31:00.000-07:00

What is; what isn't
Is better than
all linear systems up for review.

Omniscience capable brains
with linear existence

I can now remember the Future
And an infantadolescent creature

Harvester of language
not for even an outline
but for what I sense volumetric

Snow drifts expire ... summer wind
for as long as the earth is
do seasons follow one another?

Tree talk ... sun path
They have memories
to reasons of gravity on one another?

Baby ... become mirror
Head to head
will be overworked as she becomes mother?

Thunder storm ... simpler fright
of clouds and vapor and thinness
and breaking up of dreams?

Forgive me ... answer me
for I remember the future
and then why again is that important?

Harvest not language for even an outline
for what I sense in volumetric
What is what isn't.

Now on ... on, on.

[Pat to Ali and Matt | 05.18.93]
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Frenzy

2011-08-25T20:07:00.000-07:00

Tattoo about 50 bucks
for luck, Maw, and Paw

Livin' just other side
of the law

Tattoo don't come off.

Tattoo stays with you
Says "your name here"
stays there forever

Tattoos come before
the heart is broke

Got one that says:
"Hit and Run"
costs 20 bucks, thirty-one
runnin' out of luck
in a frenzy

Just this side of the law.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Not in to It

2011-08-16T03:36:00.000-07:00

Things we love dearly
go often astray
cold drinks clearly
won't right the day.

Love is mild sunstroke
nausea, throbs and pain
night terrors afloat --
volumes of water retained

Love is a blue heart
dead in its blood toll
-- to make it restart
will leave gaping holes

How love changes us
accidents happen
-- bloody dangerous --
... like walking in Manhattan.

Go we through motions
creating at best
no good solutions
we all know the rest

Love is our vintage
all bottled and stored
how we live and age
with those we adore.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

en Fuego'

2011-07-31T02:05:00.000-07:00

I was en fuego
when you found me
dying on a doorstep

I was intaglio
as I crawled down
to the river

that river went up
and covered my feet
and my heart leapt

But I could not spring free
I was ridiculed
so I slept

Water does not hold
it soaks or boils
so I was free

I was braggadocio
but another tagged me
and I was inept

I was then saggio
for knowing my own cry
so I finally had ...
... eventualities.

And silenzioso,
by my doorstep perch,
with no reserve, you crept.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Hai'can't

2011-07-25T19:31:00.000-07:00

Water
barnacled pier
crab grabbing bait
net

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Parlays

2011-07-24T09:17:00.000-07:00

Mesmerized, crustal being, I
-- being without gills
but, however, full of guile --
Side-step, step-aside,
side-step, step-aside
rainfall ridden
footfalls
and chase to
dry pockets
or a den
to reward paper
with pen.

I step in
from unto the rain
revealing ancient phrases
again

While other details
taught me to expatiate
I delay

For impressions such as
this rain-soaking
it parlays.

2000
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Blues Simple

2011-07-23T15:42:00.000-07:00

Open the door --
... I don't know
where I'm going to go
... anymore.

But I will leave
and I tell you now
I'm not going to grow
anymore ...

That was all I had
for you, the kids,
the dog, and the cat,
that we adore...

I've run out
of emotion
of regret, and,
of chances
to be more ...

Once I go
out the door
I can't say
I'll be coming back
anymore ...

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Understand

2011-07-23T08:41:00.000-07:00

Ponder the other half
-- the other side,
of a tear drop
shaped planet.

Spheroidal hemis-prison
to some, do not go there
with romantic notions
isss ... isss ... isss
murmurs the pasture rain.

This is difficult to bear.

Flashing of cloud borne arc
strobe-ing gelled walls
on loading docks
heavy in their lakes.

No hump-backed moon
lasts in the dense yoke
of humid emotion
rocking a cradle
of newborn troubles
as droplets that stream down
the glass ...

Rains down onions
scupper'd to the ground
-- understand --
... that for a whole life,
Time is eclipsed by
its reluctance
to experience
this moon-raked drenching,
as walls look like wax,
and flat roofs are un-pardoned.

2000
Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

About Love to my Teenagers

2011-07-16T15:49:00.000-07:00

Love is bigger
than you and me
It is an ocean
of surface
and, depth
and, weight
pressure and temperature.

Love is gravity
that pulls the ocean
to ebb and flow
rise and fall
make waves

Love is a place
where life thrives
teeming multitudes
competing in tide pools
a place of no folly
a humble abode

Love is time
of kind-patience
of long-suffering
caters not to weak
it carries forward
faith and hope
in changing tides.

These are just words
frail and thin
from an old man
who felt it again and again
drowned in that ocean
crushed in that gravity
put in my place
and found time cruel
until love awoke within.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Blues

2011-07-05T19:53:00.000-07:00

Up 6 days

Five nights alone

I feel like a blues

Subterfuge

-- Can I go home?

Momma, dear --

Was I born

on dry land

'cause I feel seasick

almost every day.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Restorations

2011-07-04T04:07:00.000-07:00

Spoken

A blessing
Upon the world
Fast to fasten
Quickened spirit
My friend

Spoke to face
Cheer of creator
Answer

Relent
Foretell
Deliver
Reveal

Comfort hasten
Forward
Spirit left to me.

Open
Ear and mouth
Clap hand numb
Call our names
Each one.

Incise sin
With word
Spoke clear
Iron sharpens iron
My hope sincere.

1-19-95

Portrait Eyes

2011-07-03T03:45:00.000-07:00

Look’n through portrait eyes
See’n clear-wise, all un-wise
In their blatant disguise;
In my habitat domicile,
Pigment stays; oil expires
Feelin’ thin, I oxidize

I seldom move my mirrored pose
That sobriety hath imposed
Ponder the half burnt ash
Claiming my wall mate’s nose
Facet, surface, shell, indoors
Her face too a wanton repose

Upon stair wall aspire
Breezed past me those
Up stair scale much
Petulant haunts a’ flush
Ascending in feral rush

Lie vertical, cast no shadow
I feel none their touch

Portrait eyes
Seldom cry
From dusk until dawn

Yet lovers above
At full tilt, begin to weep
When sheath of night
Is gone

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Restorations

2011-07-02T04:10:00.000-07:00

Still the Gentile

Still a gentile,
I say goodbye

And flee
To wilderness,
Escape mankind

Woe this city
Full of faux wilderness,
swallows, trees, and all.
Besides, a well ridden
Dustman, named Joachim,
Became proprietor roiled
Of the disparaging peat rim.
Through a duster’s style
Does he not repair seed
Left behind indeed by
fully leavened gentiles?

Large numbers, droves,
Th’ big city proves.
Create collective science
Stranger than fiction prose.

Emerge anyway heroes, Who
Boys and girls playin'
Follow close the game,
Neve’mind their names,
Wi’ rules e’en to their graves
Bad seed, up to speed
Relentless in faux wild
Just knaves, the same,
Brought to their knees
Final rest where the dust pile leaves.

That is my detail
From road of denial
Wise as me, still the gentile.

April 23, 2007

Lonely as a lighthouse keeper

2011-07-01T03:12:00.000-07:00

Lonely as a lighthouse keeper
-- Third generation keeper that is --
Witness many shipwrecks
Stand of stones and cairns that is
Hidden midst panes of light
‘midst uncertain sea life

When the sea froze
Was it safe to walk under?
Relying might we with
Boots as boats
Frozen toe and guts
Alone as a gusting wind
Nature christened Bad Temperament
Was it safe to christen
Other souls let go
Bodies mashed on wall
Of water at toe of tower
Turning in a bearing
Signal friendlies
Friendlier, friendliest peers
Neighbors looking into vapors
Looking at sea wave bombs
-- Some frightened; some calm --
And ask ‘What can we do?’

Where built a pier
To tie me froze boat
We sank down below water line
And towed it
Till we froze and float

Yet to yonder on
Dry patches pavement
Scant puddles left
Like toed nails appointment
Against weather’s addled temperament
On piers by soldiers’ wives
And children’s wails
Crying, bereft against torrents
And ignoble swales

Uncertainty
Eternal pathos prevail
Abundant trouble
To die, turn up one’s toes
A chap should be what he can do!
24 Jan 06

Folderol

2011-06-30T03:09:00.000-07:00

Move the dust
Move the dirt
Turf allover earth
Good and plenty
Good and contented

Drive bayside surf
smile like pappy
say goodnight
Listenin’ t’ crickets’
Who abide alight
Long way to domicile
Slick escape maybe
Environmental selection
Condescension apprehension
Of virtual annihilation
No room in No-room Town
No room in NosmoKing Town
Plenty of Hey Baby in Boomtown
In heyday groups of 3 thou
Lackluster homely Crowd
Clankingly with no culture

Stomping grounds disappeared
railroad sank
what delivered rich from poor
re-rooted, re-routed
starting to stank
feels jaded
hardened, less luminous
once unashamedly cradled

Boulevards float trucks
on roots of ancient oaks
and chariots swerve
‘tween turrets of viaducts
Rarefracted, distracted doles
Flagged and pooped – sun struck

Language-barrier’d panic polls
baseless numberings and loud sounds,
Perverse logic destroys logic,
Places lost to mummers’ tolls
Cast down in hot summers
Amidst mob of sweat bolls

Monotony marmalade
There’s no room in No-room Town
Just for Faust and troll trade
No more room in Boomtown
Just seduction for Gretchen
In a How-Town folderol

PD | ©Darnell 2007

Patrick

2011-06-28T13:46:00.000-07:00

by Patrick Darnell

Numb nuts
Buns, four-eyes
Pitter patter
Draftsman
Two-minutes
Barnsmell

Pete,
... Pat-er-ick
Patick Zio
Cognato Grandioso
Cuolo grande
Poindexter
P-Hole
Pitiful Case

Store Planner
Great-Gran’daddy of funk
Naked Party Chairman
Wanker less Tosser
Fly Half Rugger

Guard, Nose Tackle
Deep center
Specialist tugger
Engineer artist abashed
Advanced token
Donor self-harassed
Big Bird
Patrick

Pander-monium

2011-06-27T07:07:00.000-07:00

It turns out
I was right
'n my microcosm
of pander

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Basement

2011-06-26T05:29:00.000-07:00

Water dripping
in a basement
smell of grout
smell of wetness

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Out Patient

2011-06-25T19:51:00.000-07:00

A case
too tricky
and anti-science
anti-logic
too clever
rolled up into
a bale of hay
captured energy
from glistening trays
of uneaten buffets

Vikings of Geisha boys
riding curved headed ships
paddled into mock joy
black-guarded low gips ...

Days of doggerel fashion
Fran questioned and found
only pain as
truth serum.

We are on the same side --
this a question
from a freak
who wants to
circumcise his own fingertips
Fran ran away
-- checked out.

To experience
Counter reality
with anxiety
in an out patient
sort of way.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Crazy Voice

2011-06-24T14:28:00.000-07:00

[Impromptu Lyrics for this song at Guitar Ramble :: PRIBEK -- LINK]
by Pat Darnell

Crazy voice
I can’t tell
what you say

Your screams and cries
will make fruit bats
stammer, stagger and die.

Your creepy howl — please –
Don’t scare me now,
Later I gotta’ sleep.

Crazy voice, please cease,
You burn my lungs
When I breathe.

It’s okay, Crazy voice,
your chatter instead
is waking the bitter dead.

Crazy voice, it matters,
Your voice stabs me
like a thousand daggers

You’re causing here
a crazy stew —
Oh, yes you do.

And, Crazy voice
I can’t tell what it is
That you say …

It’s just possible
maybe I will …
but not today.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Living Vicarious through my Friend

2011-06-23T13:46:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning
could not remember my dreams
but ...Something was on my mind
and it made my feet move

When I woke up this morning
I said I had to get goin'
Get goin' outta this bog
Yes, had it on my mind.

I was tired of looking
out each and every way
for gators and wild hogs, and
snakes around shallow lakes

Diamond D and Circle K
got no more lure for me,
All those bog secrets
ain't scared of me ...
... sure 'nuff ain't scared of me.

Hopped in my Chevrolet
to see what I might see
and followed the rail
put my hair in a ponytail

Packed my axe and muscatel
drove to Tunica Mississippi
drove till I find a casino
while Blues spun on the radio

I woke up this morning
not a memory could I say
but knew I could not sit a spell
had to get on up out down this way

What happened next, you see,
In my mind I'll just keep it
what went down in Mississippi
Well, that there's top secret.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

When Bramble starts to Bloom

2011-06-19T07:53:00.000-07:00

Check the clock
when the bramble starts to bloom
check my heart
when colors enter the room
look in the sky
when rose sharon finds her groom
listen to the land
when angels sing their tune
observe the bands
of red, yellow, pearl, and blue.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Mom's Living Room

2011-06-18T06:02:00.000-07:00

Many a parlay went down here.
...thirty years of dusty guitars,
and a wurlitzer for Garth,
a boogie-woogie piano by the rogue's gallery.

More than several over-nighters...
several puppies, and a comfy chair
for anyone whose dogs are tired.

Don't show me this again,
until I am there beside you.
Mom will probably make a little more coffee.
Someone will tell an old joke
and there will be laughter.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

But as Dreams Go

2011-06-14T07:31:00.000-07:00

I am one who
often dreams of
events before they happen

But as dreams go
events in them are misshapen

It may be years before
I recognize what those
dreams were for

But as Dreams go
Real life corrects them

And I usually smile
for I am safe;
miles from sleep

But as dreams go
New venues start collecting

Submission in sleep
alerts my intellect
to rigors in life

But as dreams go
I find this all enchanting.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Blues Pickin's

2011-06-12T11:59:00.000-07:00

A little off the top
Now feather the neck hairs
Slide over to the side burns
trim those to the ears

Now lay some track
talcum yourself a soft brush
brush those hairs off my back
call my name out in a hush

and feather them neck hairs once more

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Gettin’ from There to Here, listening to Coltrane and Friends

2011-06-05T14:52:00.000-07:00

I got forty tons a haul
an’ no safe port of call
I asked my biz manager
whad’ he tho’t of it all

He said “Take it on up
to Choctaw Nation,
eh … all okay Mister Reginald”
-- just if you are a little patient

I'll Pick up 20 thousand yards
of rubble and trouble
settin’; up on side of a cliff
just for you at that station –

http://youtu.be/KW33ye4fPBA[Personnel: Sonny Rollins, John Coltrane (tenor sax), Red Garland (piano), Paul Chambers (bass), Philly Joe Jones (drums)]

I got plenty of sun
out of an Old Mexico run ….
and a red arm to show
I'm thrivin’ on that riff
easing into a Oklahoma snow

Listen'n to Ted Sonny Rollins –
don't he tell you about Jelly Roll Morton?
while you are on the road, tires flappin’
This perfect jazz is mad bitin’

You got no extra time to kiss
keepin’ it r’ill, with rubber on steel,
Till you be thrivin’ on that riff
ridin’ 40 tons of haul on wheels.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Welcome to the Grand Illusion

2011-06-04T06:57:00.000-07:00

flytrap says:
March 31, 2011 at 6:40 am

Welcome to the grand illusion
Come on in and see whats happening
Pay the price, get your tickets for the show
The stage is set, the band starts playing

Suddenly your heart is pounding
Wishing secretly you were a star.
But dont be fooled by the radio
The tv or the magazines

They show you photographs of how your life should be
But theyre just someone elses fantasy

So if you think your life is complete confusion
Because you never win the game
Just remember that its a grand illusion
And deep inside were all the same.
Were all the same…

So if you think your life is complete confusion
Because your neighbors got it made
Just remember that its a grand illusion
And deep inside were all the same.
Were all the same…

America spells competition, join us in our blind ambition
Get yourself a brand new motor car
Someday soon well stop to ponder what on earths this spell were under
We made the grade and still we wonder who the hell we are

_______References
http://www.infowars.com/cost-of-libya-intervention-600-million-for-first-week-pentagon-says/
http://www.infowars.com/cost-of-libya-intervention-600-million-for-first-week-pentagon-says/comment-page-1/#comment-2445366

_______footnote: talksic_ says:
March 30, 2011 at 6:55 am
in a recession and we have 600 million to bomb another country. what a joke. looks like they care more about the libyan people then us. but to bad the u.s. is really over there to get a stronger strangle hold on the middle east and when were falling apart at home.

I Know a Few Things

2011-05-25T12:45:00.000-07:00

I know a few things
-- yes I do --
yes I do for sure

Like a hamster
tucked in all day
wakes at dusk.

There are things to abhor
-- sure there are --
things you like more, trust...

I found old barn wood
is plenty dry --
very dry for sure,

just fine for
building your
own furniture:

Like a table fine
for breakin' your bread ...
with cane-backed chairs

Or, a guitar painted red,
to make your songs live,
like songs of heaven's stairs.

Or, a sturdy mantle
of dry barn wood
to hold pictures

Messages of a long life
-- your long life --
I know this for sure.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Turn back, O Man

2011-05-03T13:35:00.000-07:00

by Clifford Bax -- 13 July 1886 – 18 November 1962

Turn back, O man, forswear they foolish ways.
Old now is earth, and none may count her days;
Yet thou, her child, whose head is crowned with flame,
Still wilt not hear thine inner God proclaim:
"Turn back, O man, forswear thy foolish ways!"

Earth might be fair and all men glad and wise.
Age after age their tragic empires rise,
Built while they dream, and in that dreaming weep;
Would man but wake from out his haunted sleep,
Earth might be fair, and all men glad and wise.

Earth shall be fair, and all her people one:
Nor till that hour shall God’s whole will be done.
Now, even now, once more from earth to sky,
Peals forth in joy man’s old undaunted cry—
“Earth shall be fair, and all her folk be one!”

Words: Clifford Bax, 1916. Bax wrote these words at the request of Gustav Holst; they appeared in the League of Arts Motherland Song Book, 1919.

Music: Old 124th, Genevan Psalter, 1551

All Poets are Self-Published

2011-04-28T09:41:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

an old city
is basically
a graveyard

monuments
and headstones
on square plots

a pedestrian
maze of sorts
of building spots

plastic pots
with sprigs
and trees

water always
running free
to its on level;

all creation
is clueless
in a life it revels.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Supreme Sob Story

2011-04-16T11:36:00.000-07:00

Who are you really --
what is it you do out there?
From this loftiness it appears
prophets' scattered lives
are destroyed.

Frail prophets; are you daft?
Fragility ate up lives?
Unable, or unwilling,
to stand against and
forswear, and repudiate
technologies in recant ...
... Face in face-off, while
stolen by unknowable
and cowardly villain;

Sneaky Demon's, role models --
surgery to deceive
rejuvenation twist
promised reconciliation,
names you cannot unsay --

Confectionery cake
a brittle layer like
two dimension bas-relief
over soft core of humans' stakes

on Supreme Secret plates --
secrets you depart with;
low tech solution for
high logic-techno pith; --
and hardships abated
for your prophets-in-waiting.

Copyright © 2010-11 Patrick Darnell

Sean Tudor the First

2011-04-14T23:03:00.000-07:00

Highly accurate
guesswork, describes
terror Tudors feel
flying above us
untethered to
Mother Earth.

Rolling, rolling, rolling
like Vampire bats
slaves of endless
ersatz

Wages of their sins
is of course death
Death is final
frontier, unless ...

... Tudor, it will take
you seven hundred
generations to
spend that wealth

Sons' and daughters'
immortal souls -- what?
Still secret to you?
"Come with me:" said Jesus
"Behind me Satan!"

There might be hope for
Sean Tudor the First.

Copyright © 2010 - 11 Patrick Darnell

Conversation at the Army Surplus Store

2011-04-13T10:53:00.000-07:00

"You didn't have
a childhood did you?"

"No."

"I mean; you were
born to a bunch
of goons -- siblings,
all nervous
about their
birth-rights?"

"Uhmmm -- yep!"

"What are you laughing at?"

"Mullie."

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

It isn't Always Pretty

2011-04-13T07:59:00.000-07:00

Fran

2011-04-11T22:53:00.000-07:00

When serpents
attack back
and lead to
a whole new
story ...

So that Fran can
end it, or not,
anymore than
she could have
it started ...

We are all
on the same side.
'Truth is:' that
truth is
a harsh villain
to those
who lie.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

2011-04-08T11:33:00.000-07:00

Having been born human
and never known the Earth
never saw it's green
never filled lungs
with its air
never felt the sun
radiance on his face

Traveling the cosmos
as a star struck being
always seeking a place
a place to know
as home

This is how it is
from earliest time
from Adam to Enoch
from son to son

Having arrived
breathing in paradise
savoring fruit of earth
drinking its wine
then is a human born.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

I'm almost not Dead Yet

2011-04-06T14:46:00.000-07:00

I'm almost not dead yet
-- dead is real final --
but alas' I'm not
there yet

I guess I'm just
not there yet

I am pulling out
my eyebrows
and I'm lying very still
listening to TV persons gab on

Talk about who walks about
many bloody segues
I'm like antlers on a wall
watching seagulls set up a queue

I'm almost not dead yet
guess' be alive I will
as long as I have eyebrows
as long as there's face
... on a clock

life went by fast
I was twenty, then way past --
hung out to dry at fifty-five --
need an air lift out of this flood.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

A Bookshelf

2011-04-05T14:41:00.000-07:00

Somewhere there is
a bookshelf with
the very book I need

The very book that when
its pages turn
reveals just what is --

Just what is
in the very way
that I need this day
to contemplate,
while I perambulate
and be complete.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Sustaining an Unplanned Life

2011-04-04T14:39:00.000-07:00

We
en-route
to truth
scampering
past trickery
skulduggery
maneuvering
past lavish lies

Finding a grove
of sweet-gum tree
and hickory
ancient elders
masters of sky
in shadow we hide

Then we re'lize
that we can grow
Sunflowers in
our own front yard
we don't hav'ta
go hide so hard.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Six-legged Yoga

2011-03-28T10:03:00.000-07:00

Imagine an insect
the kind you abhor
practicing six-legged
yoga up on your door

When opens your door
there reveals a puppy
legged with peds of four
propped up right steady

As --

Copernicus separates
Earth from the Sun
All life-forms begun ...
... go on as before.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Sodomy, Bigotry

2011-03-27T08:17:00.000-07:00

Sodomy, bigotry
my lands such things
into the 21st I go
someone let me know

aren't those deadly?
idolatry, polygamy
insufficiency
-- did I miss one

did you witness?
can you see the mess
will you do this
nothing eases up at all

seven of seventy
ways to fuck up
and screw the pooch
-- what did I do?

that game of games
is too much for me
same with you?
-- can we agree

I enter to leave
I capture to free
I seize to release
-- you, do what you please

no heavy loaded words
just nouns turned verbs
missiles in silos
shit oozing 'tween my toes

Bigotry, sodomy
where will you go?
out with the polit-bureau?
last chance to know.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Poem a Day on a Sleepless Night

2011-03-27T01:26:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell for Cage Potatos Everywhere

I was conceived in the backseat
cup holder of an S.U.V. [Es Yoo Vee]
Going up US Interstate Highway ...
... one hundred and forty-three

Lord I was born an armchair man
Lord I was born an armchair athlete ...
Trying to escape a living
Doin' the best I can in retreat ....

When it's time for leavin'
I hope you understand
I eat peaches and then I eat the can.
Lord, I'm no ramblin' man.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Kitty is Full

2011-03-25T08:31:00.000-07:00

Bob-tailed kitty
has a taste for bird
she climbs 'top the wood pile
out by the shed
she sniffs a bit
plops down and closes her eyes

She finds a board
to scratch on
rolls onto her back
stretches her legs out
shakes her head

A new flying cardinal
lands on a shrub
hops to the slider bench
kitty only looks, yawns,
and licks her chest...
Kitty must be full

Kitty, she acts very cute
always at safe distance
that is, how she goes,
She likes better
sounds from women,
Men scare her away.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Great Lonely

2011-03-11T13:37:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

On a runway lonely
Songwriter croons
crafts a tune
out of refrain

Evidence is in a tablet of stone
a very large and heavy
block of stone, a terrain
in hopes to be emancipated

Lady gained his heart
but forfeited her soul
she had to be at his side --
-- what was, she unanticipated

What, anyway, was the point?
her love could have levitated
a mountain, and its valley,
but there are only
so many fertile valleys

Then Song-man wrote,
wrote it all down,
but the tale became fragments,
restrained fragments of stone.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

If Not Human

2011-02-19T04:08:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

If not human
would you know
winter, spring, and fall ?

If other than a man
could you tell
differences at all ?

If some other being
would you sing 'n let
your hands go free ?

If other than human,
is your calling,
Would you avoid Falling ?

If not human, then
would you work so hard
to give your fellow so much regard ?

If not human mate
would you mourn,
think, or, jubilate ?

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Not a Revolutionary Piece

2011-02-15T07:33:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

Here a reluctant
authoritarian writes
not a revolutionary piece

but rather a cautious
series of tales
that are warnings

responses to glaring
holes in logic
and songs blaring

to ignite memory
of some things once
pleasantly democratic

or to declare
what you are going through
is certainly valid.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

I Waited

2011-02-09T15:20:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

I waited here
for you to give
meaning to my words

Then when you
Came to call

My Spirit leaped
from the saddle
like the soul of Sal

It could wait no longer
beneath thunder rolls
nor 'neath squalls

It broke free...
My Spirit did for thee

Did you leap too
When our time began
At two journey's ends
And Spirits freely ran?

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

For My Heart

2011-01-31T14:16:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

For my heart
to be supple again
only a closed mind
is certain

Our moon is untrustworthy
different every night --
and we want to know
about our spirit and soul

Think ascent and descent
think light and screen
think ears, eyes, nose --
Think heart, mouth,and bestowal

To know our souls
requires a shrinking brain
Egoism thrown out the window
and tears flowing like rain

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Work in Progress -- Dream of Flying

2011-01-22T13:53:00.000-08:00

Why do I fly
in my dreams?
Floating over brick floors
around steel corridors

floating in atmosphere
teaching you how
so we can be together
flying

finding new clothes
swimming in large pools
expecting adventure
looking for work

Flying, a joyful expectation,
a joyous exhilaration,
how does it end?

We awake.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

A Standard Bureaucrat

2010-12-28T16:23:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

I'm a full blooded bureaucrat
Living in an abstract
Married to an acrobat
That is that ...

All is right --
you may think, oh mighty eyes,
read on --

I'm sitting and rolling in the fat
one o' 'dese cats wants to masticate
an' force feed to the alley rats
... I'm not all right wid' that!

Me wife completely cracked
she pushed a heavy shelf and snapped
Tho' she can put her foot behind her back
She can not get past a dog'ass Corpor'at ...

Talkin' shop we learned that
Everything is wrote down in tracts
for insurable interest of Hacks'
... so just they can inscrutably file it away stat.

Now, I'm your standard bureaucrat
sweltering in a basement flat
foisting paper mountains on your back
... further inverting your sacroiliac.

Like me poor wife's sore back
She's sent on home with a rheostat
for keeping data -- ratt-a-tata-tat
So 'dey can write a new tax for that

On the sidewalk you don't spat ...
On the roof you don't wear a hat ...
in Spain ... you don't eat the cat ...
and you don't rat on the lowly bureaucrat ...

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Gratified to Breathe

2010-12-22T16:04:00.000-08:00

by Pat Darnell

Just a human being
exposed to all that is
gratified to breathe
fresh air
and occupy a small space

Skull, muscle, flesh
bread, truffle, and fish
gratified in repast
to eat
and present specified face

Shepherds cull their herd
and find pasture
past rocks and mountains
near springs
and nothing goes to waste

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Haiti :: Recent Headlines

2010-10-23T16:22:00.000-07:00

A new Prince
by Pat Darnell

Who is the new Prince of Haiti;
He claims the rumpled boulders
that were once a city?

Don't jump into the rivers
Keep yourselves clean
Don't panic.

A man with fever arrives
he is carried into the tent
he was living in a tent
in San Marc

In only hours
this Prince charged amongst us
it devoured many and left us grieving

He came at us from miles away
from upstream
from the clay and sand

This new Prince
is bigger than our president
bigger than our 1000 camps

bigger than Jan 12 earthquake
that claimed 300,000 lives.

This Prince ...
is bigger than God.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Emancipated

2010-10-03T10:04:00.000-07:00

I was not rated
so I cannot be underrated
so of course...
never overrated likewise

When I say
the hole in my chest
is a fatal wound
bleeding from raising children

It should create impact
it is a symptom
possibly of disloyalty, ambiguity
from shelter people in their
profiteering

On my account; no festival please
Hope, no reveling
just surviving
making life one more day

No furnished bisque
no bouquets, no nosegay
only charity schisms
perchance escape criticism

Don't know why
Don't know when
Service became a job
and Public Works became a business

It has something to do
with water to live on
that Living Water promise
made reproachfully

I approach carefully
a common door
once I go through
I am emancipated, or so.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

The Comedian

2010-09-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

I write poetry
because I'm shallow

Don't quit your day job
they'd tell me

They were right!

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Maria Bermejo

2010-09-29T09:11:00.000-07:00

You did a
D and C
on my heart

pierced it
and scooped it
out of its socket

How do I
introduce you now?
... friend of the family?

Was it
a genetic disorder
that made
me want you,
... at first?

From us
I lost confidence
as you brought
me not one luck

but, your jabs were
difficult. surgical
excelling in pluck

Boxing; you are champ
I never knew at all
such a scamp upstart
softened my glass jaw

Bittersweet, charge and depart,
your victory, my loss
Could you please
return my heart ...

Oh, on second thought
... just keep it!

Nov\2007 | Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Disturbed

2010-09-27T09:01:00.000-07:00

... Maybe he was trying to
admit his inability to cope
with hypocrisy he sensed
in his church. He had been
preaching in his church
ten years. The experience
of seldom getting feedback,
at his intellect level, well
made him disturbed, mentally...

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Genre Of Repair

2010-09-25T08:52:00.000-07:00

Three final words of the twelve
might end in sermon with enough
convincing enough of enough
God Preservation Trust

Who then will preserve us?
With His gift of life
hard knocks and all
taught faith
and sincerity

Life gives life
what for Christ...
Man woman child
Country land

What each mind understands
is found in the air
water in stasis
our genre of repair

Agreement in unison
all saints standing there
good life rages on
In the genre of repair.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

2010-09-23T08:05:00.000-07:00

Shin Kickers Ear Pickers

The first time it happened
I remember clear
Very clear sound
like wind
and someone
playing my head bones
as instruments
notes bounced
side to side
top to bottom
making a salad
of my brain
making patterns
in my head

It happened
long before
stereo and 2%
headphones

Before Reese's Pieces
long before 8-tracks

But there weren't
any headphone jacks
in Mom's Hi Fidelity
GE cabinet turntable

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Anguish I Feel

2010-09-22T06:19:00.000-07:00

The anguish I feel
knocks out possibilities
knocks out pleasure
knocks out joy

The anguish I feel
has me pinned
has me stonewalled
has me astonished

the anguish I feel
derides me
denies me
imbibes me

Anguish
paralyzes
stupefies
immobilizes

no glee
no gladsomeness
no release

just torment
torture, 'n,
travail

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

2010-09-21T08:00:00.000-07:00

Fathom This

Intellectuals have responsibilities,
But no powers ...
So here goes:
To make this year a new beginning
Every American wanting a new car
... go out and buy a Chevy
All frustrated academicians
... go online and start blogging
All parents who find hope
... encourage your children to prophesy and heal
"My God did we finally do it; really do it," says Charlton
... Stop Look Listen every morning.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Globe gone Warm?

2010-09-19T09:25:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

2010-09-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

Cro mag non Man

2010-09-06T08:18:00.000-07:00

I don't want to be
Cro mag non Man
I don't want to shout
when a whisper will stand

Sugar loaf comes to mind
when I think of you
No, don't want to be
No Cro Mag Non kind

I want to be there
When you unwind.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

2010-09-04T01:55:00.000-07:00

Sorry Captain Harley

2010-09-02T16:51:00.000-07:00

BP wants fish that taste best
Not fish with shark skin vests!

The Monarchy is silent
for the oil spoil toil
there has been no kingly recoil

Sorry Charlie:
BP made fish and fowl spoil
now "we" have to recoil
but 'dem sharks
eat anything

Fishin' hole is spoiled, boy,
Foist ahoy there, Charlie
the fishin' hole is spoiled
Give me a hard port turn
Captain Harley Finvalve Sir
Fin hoist that yardarm

What's it like down there
Charlie?
Hey, this is not a shark park,
Charlie.

Sorry Captain Harley
We want sharks that
taste good
not sharks with
good taste ...

Shark skin suits? Bah!
BP wants what's best
If it means sharks
in shark skin vests?

Fishin' hole is spoiled, boy,
Foist ahoy there, Charlie,
the fishin' hole is spoiled
Give me a hard port turn
Captain Harley Finvalve
Fin hoist that yardarm

Peter Protocol

2010-08-31T06:11:00.000-07:00

Before the Rooster crows
... three denials

Peter is flawed
his fear made him crawl
Don't you know Jesus?

Rooster crows
knee-jerk guilt
Guilty by association
failure
betrayal
by proxy

It's not Me!

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

What's Up?

2010-08-30T16:30:00.000-07:00

Kick back
put up your feet
stretch out your arms
put your hands
behind your head;
give out a big sigh
look up for the sky ...

Oops, there it is
a badly fit
ubiquity inside
a hung ceiling
in this patient room
turned waiting room ...
caged bird
... looking up

two by four drop down
tiles on tracks
that were powder coated
white, faded gray,
dusty 2 x 2 supply vents
twelve feet apart

Return air grilles
2 x 2 at far corner
EXIT sign over door
glowing

Canned lighting to accent
or excite us on floor
oh wait ...
a plastic ligustrum tree
was the target

Over there ...
baby poop color
plastic round
smoke alarm
and some other
alarm stuck up there

Round speaker
with broken plastic
round knob bezel
tight to the tiles

Try, try, try ...
... try to dream
beyond this scheme,
to beautiful skies.

[11\16\08. 1201 Briarcrest]
Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Curl

2010-08-29T16:29:00.000-07:00

Curl ...
in base of
Fibonacci
integrity and
consistency
say's to
profess ...

Like out not
slice of life
but in first
bite of every
harvest ...

Hydro
drag
on structural
elements
till there
on edible flesh
lies ...
a Pearl.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

6 Reasons why You're Not in the Mood

2010-08-03T05:39:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

Show her why she is worthy of your love

Discover 10 ways the blues hurt your health...

Bad enough you feel tired, listless and blue.

Memory loss? ... 10 natural remedies
Fresh Pomodoro Pasta, ... White Beans and Olives
Mental health experts ask: ... Will anyone be normal?

Jobs, professions, influence cause of death

But Lucky you. You're going to Vegas.
-- Oven-Fried Zucchini Sticks !!

What 'clinically proven' means to you
AND -- Modest weight loss may curb urine leakage

So, do you know Ways to get from slow to go
Get designer brands up to 70% off retail;

Flower arrangements for any occasion

Your opinion is valuable. Get paid for what you know,
And when you arrive ... take what they give,
Permanent enlarged penis with Dr. Duress --
Grow 4 Inches and 150% wide in 90 days or less

But you only have 89 days left to live ...

Did you suffer from injuries from your Accutane use?
No worries --
Pills On Sale. Quality VIAGRA $1.89, LEVITRA $3.29 and $2.29 CIALIS

All about keeping an eye on your home.
What good is a roof over your head if it leaks?

It's a big job, but someone has to do it.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Pretty Woman Revisited

2010-08-01T05:29:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

Somewhere there is a good picture
of you with me
when we were young
and I pleased you
in every way

Now you hold my heart
no other may hold it
... star struck melody
you crossing the street

when the ground trembles
I think of you
When I see our child
it's you he resembles

I lived and I died
in your arms before
... do it all again
would I ...

For this picture when
we were young
and I am still yours
across all avenues

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Reverse Engineering Terrorist Attack

2010-07-31T04:37:00.000-07:00

Dixie crowded barges
floating flotilla carnival
tight-roped trail rider
gets on with his smoke

Down river white trash from Texas
Lantern ladened wagon
Sleepy dog-faced patrons
Go direct to the heat of Dallas

They get tickled drunk
and someone owns an idea --
but some fella in a corner
thinks it's his mission.

he makes a bunch of
suicide videos
and writes a series of
last notes

he checks in to
last chance resort motel
and makes booty calls
hires an escort infidel

A deadly mixture
a mutt from Texas
Arms go left, feet go right,
Body don't look just right,

finds two Volunteers from Tennessee,
Out of the North
Out of the Night
Poor boy goin' lose his life.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Whiskey, Wimmen and Whisker Burns

2010-07-27T04:30:00.000-07:00

(An Old Song Gone Bad)

Scotch and soda
Mud in your eye
Baby do I feel high
oh me, oh my ...

That next town seems
so outta reach
just outta reach

Dat' woman g'wan kill de family
to get her way ...
She sell her soul cheap
Oh me, oh my ...

Dry Martini
jigger of Gin
Oh, what a spell
they got me in
Oh my ...
... Do I feel high.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Visitors and Brain Industries

2010-07-25T04:14:00.000-07:00

Elongated cranium
fashion from
Sirius B and A,
Potolo Ama,
and Dogons,
knew it --
"Star Knowledge"
nomenclature
told through oral culture.

Artisans -- split apart hybrids ...

Catalogers left to hash it out ...

Sirius B -- how far away is that?

Zuni -- 1200 BC
Egypt is at bat

Dogon Spacemen
visitors, Sky People
Keepers of Space

Cachinas:
Dance each year
in full head dress
in costumes to re-enact
coming of Space gods
and elongated cranius
That's a fact!

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Hotel Chelsea

2010-07-23T04:08:00.000-07:00

Meetin' Maggie at the Hotel Chelsea
Will the door man
diffuse the situation

Waiting waiting waiting by the gate
to hear the voice of coma

The gate is a trap door
friends are measured like teeth

Gates separated by long walkway
ramps to run rapid transit

Quietly quickly to pedestrian heart beat
... to connecting flights

Funny looking feet
At Chelsea Hotel ...
... we're gonna' meet!

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Humanism

2010-07-21T03:49:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

Like trying to sell
life insurance to
a Muslim

O r to collect long term healthcare
stipends from Hindi's

as if under cloak
covering dimensions
of space and time
... innuendos
Where is the joy?

Where children are born
and leavened to humankind
to be treated rough
in rites of passage
meant to set them apart
as what ... warriors?

this nightmare
feeds terror
surmounts to blood terror
and terror of death
feeding terror again ...

Many that will shorten
their already short lives

and choose very differently
from their fathers' lifestyles

regard other lifestyles
other than
trodden paths
of descendants past

of rivaling fathers
those who are
rodding their child
to be canon fodder

A basic question
put before Protestant Hedonists
and profiling Humanists

Who are you who were commanded
to love God the Father
and to encourage one another
Until His return?

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Florida, Orlando

2010-07-19T03:28:00.000-07:00

Bocce ball
Blue crab not moving
4 candles --
2 South, 2 West,
on a linen blouse
a lock of hair ...

Still life on a curb
Orlando, florida

A disturbance call
somewhere down yonder

Did ya hear the call?
Reckon we'll be smart
and git on down there ...
with no real Where to start.

Maybe muster our minds
Could have been passion
could have been economy of direct action
Probably just eviction ...

Yes, passion, I suspect
luster now gone, nonetheless
festooned , yes
and garland of confess
could be passions last request
and these left clues
on Orlando's curb
Bocce ball and all.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Sore Nation

2010-07-17T03:22:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

You cried to our hearts
You thought for us
... not we listened

Look about us now
You say, I have laid out
your lives in reason.

Built
Repair
Guilt
Despair

Control re-entry
You cried to our minds
Chosen minds focussed
instilled Revival from rind
you fortified and buttressed
... Reviled death
... Sought fitness
and strengthened in spirit
Deliverance in abundance
Disinterment, decisioness,
You sore nation, our fortress.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Staying Naive is Best for all

2010-07-16T03:15:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

love is this stream
rippling on thighs
Spring water rushing by
my hand around
your torso
in gentle hug
bathing, listening
looking through trees
for love --

love for you, this inlet,
is this stream
where we lie
with ripples all about
pushing your thighs

love is not occupation
boots nor dust, but
younger stronger
deserving and robust.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Hurley-burly

2010-07-15T23:51:00.000-07:00

I am the sacred absent
I am a chill down your spine
I vow trust, and love,
But torrents, tears, are mine

To give away and reset
to fall away and beget
to miss out on evenings yet
bend toil all night in regret

long suffer'g spider weaves her net
works at night, should I forget her
that moment when I was present, yet
victim in rising water, with tetra
[... glowing all around me]

I would drown that night
If I did not love you
shed instead my shaking ...
Shakiness that you always hate

I sent a message late
and a text too early
and the morning was met
with quiet hurley-burly

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Owl

2010-07-14T03:11:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

Almost hidden to bet
but not good enough
for my sharp eyes
and circumnavigate neck
my vigil gaze
sharp end fluttering wings
send chills down their necks
and wake them in darkest haze.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

And the Fat Man Wrote

2010-07-13T03:06:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

All that's left
for some to see
is windmills
and lighthouses
and animal menageries

In the sixties
a fella was shiftless
and way to smart ...
Midwesterner sort ...

To let his what if's
go into so what's
Soon produced his bachelors
in philo of fine Arts.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Grand Traditions

2010-07-12T03:00:00.000-07:00

Careful how you
rewrite the grand traditions
or , How to not rewrite --
and be all big-legged;

Don't topple
the chicken cart?

Go land your cart
and catch instead
a mess of mud bugs

Just how it's done
we get it on
you kno'
Jus' go on and on and on.

Say: Hi Jane
Say: Hygiene

Say: Chicken, laddy,
Say: Craw-daddy!

a triumph ...
or et un trionfo' ..?

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Demi, the Life Changer

2010-07-11T02:47:00.000-07:00

Pre-approved
Junkily
Corruptible passage,
Others joined in
With prevalent sin
we all turned
away from God
But Demi found us
in the end, at the path
of trodden wrath

Demi, the Life Changer,

She'd return for me
when it's time

All I had asked
is where's my daughter?

... followed then all this free verse
under bentwood chairs
over expressed on oak desk
to delight of rest

I headed into the wind
Southerly to a heading
not marked as unknown.
Only as a son born
to find his daughters and sons.

I finally slept it seems,
as Demi, the life changer, crept
back into my slumbering dreams.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Gimme a Line, Kid of Mine

2010-07-10T04:41:00.000-07:00

START:

... the worm knows
about wormholes

everything that ...
is to know ...

[ ... ]

"So, I don't know
I'd love to do that
but I can't think of
' a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g '
Right Now -- Dad."

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

The Generalist Might say:

2010-07-10T04:27:00.000-07:00

Poetry Geist

2010-07-09T16:40:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

Tell the water
to be still
Call the clouds
if you will
Tell light
to sit tight,
Tell time
to stop ...
... on a dime

Tell those
who pray
to call it a day

When you feel ignored
Don't blame the Lord

Doesn't sound cricket
worms with rickets
on a pitch field of dreams
Being so thick, it
sullies the stream.

Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell

Trials

2010-06-19T04:34:00.000-07:00

by Pat Darnell

To think, to even stir
Required eternal
And stop to say
In turn, true to form,

Someone out there
Invented this
Beside the stillness
Individuals fell against
The storm once made

Could not they
And all the rest
Have said good day

June 2010
Copyright © 2010 Patrick Darnell