Leaving 69

wrapped in khaki

alone & cold

waiting on the platform

for the train

to carry him

so far again

he cursed

the coming ball of light

in vain

the airhorn blew

& again he knew

he’d be Fort Lincoln bound

the hollow chill

& a weakening will

upon his tongue the taste

of a bitter goodbye

he thought

what men will do

to prove to you

they’re not afraid to die

but the bullet’s pain

is not the same

as the dull & empty wound

of goodbye

the piercing squeal

of steel on steel

he was Fort Lincoln bound

the train pulled away

his soul like Winter gray

as he thought of all the love

that cried for more

rumbling railroad town

he watched the fleeting town

his mind had come this way before

‘O airhorn blow

to let them know

I am Fort Lincoln bound’

but in silent prayer

he whispered there

‘God turn this train around!’

Exposition Of Meaning

Shoes

     and socks;

Black

     leather belt;

Discarded

     ivory underwear

Man:

     standing real.

Mine’s I

I know so many

in love

with

I.

most of my friends

are in love

with

I.

not a social thought

in their mind

just

I.

Just

I

me mine

myself

Christians

loving

I.

Jews

loving

I.

The I’s

have it

covering

their eyes.

The Oracle

Don’t go down to Ja-rooslim!

     I heard de Oracle say

Don’t go down to Ja-rooslim!

Dey’s evil dere today!

No don’t go down

To de serpent’s town

Or dey gonna take you away!

Don’t go down to Dallas!

     I heard de Oracle declare

Don’t go down to Dallas

Dey’s hatred in de air!

No don’t go down

To dat debbul’s town

Or dey gonna take you away!

Don’t go down to Memphis

     I heard de Oracle warn

Don’t go down to Memphis

Dey’s a death mist on de morn!

No don’t go down

To dat hatin town

Or dey gonna take you away!

Stay away from Calla-fornya!

     I heard de Oracle scream

Stay away from Calla-fornya

Dey bound to smash your dream!

No don’t go down

To dat dead man’s town

Or dey gonna take you away!

But dey turned deaf ears

     To de Oracle’s fear

So dey came

     And took dem away.

Wet Tender

Love is the fire

that we can never

keep burning

or

can never get started

in time

to save us all

from freezing to death

E.J. Hudak: ca. 1969

Claims Still Unrhymed

 

Buried alive

the secrets we keep

Covered over

in memories deep

Waiting for miners

with claims still unrhymed

To assay what’s hidden

— there waiting to find

 

*****

 

The Beauty Of Nuance

 

When man controls

technology

decorum availed

But when

technology controls man

the classless prevail

When machines

do the thinking

with hard drives as boss

The beauty

of nuance

— and subtleness lost

 

*****

 

Schematics

 

Writing a

novel

Is like building

a house

You start with

a blueprint

That guides you

throughout

 

You raise it

with framing

Then wire

the lines

And coat it

with pigment

To forever

— define

 

(The New Room: June, 2026)

 

 

 

Putting your arm

around the hump

of my sorrow

Embracing the loss

as you reach

through my pain

Saying again

that no words

can bring comfort

Leaving the past

and its language

— profane

 

*****

 

Caught In The Maelstrom

 

Answering

the questions

Questioning

the answers

Caught in the

maelstrom

A prisoner

of time

 

Looking

before me

Looking

behind me

Each minute

recounted

A moment

— unrhymed

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)

 

Frozen Dreams

 

Poverty

with a view

Wilderness

in the stew

Icebergs set

aflow

Desolation

row

 

Every day

a choice

Searching for

that voice

The one

to set me free

And melt

— this frozen dream

 

*****

 

This Day Forward

 

Giving up

on tomorrow

Rechristening

today

The blessings

before me

As presence

they lay

 

Regret is for

losers

Of which

I’ve been one

But from

this day forward

Today

zero – sum

 

*****

 

Door #3

 

We don’t write

to uncover

what’s right or what’s wrong

 

We write

to discover

— ourselves

 

*****

 

Bottom Line

 

Writer’s write

 as dilettante’s talk

Writer’s write

and poseurs they squawk

Writer’s write

with dandies in tow

Writer’s write

— so others may know

 

(Dreamsleep: June, 2026)

 

 

Inflection Point

 

Musicians

want to be poets

And poets

musicians

Jim Morrison

in Paris

Leonard Cohen

 Montreal

 

The grass

shining greener

In shadows

elusive

The muses to

whisper

As temptress

— they call

 

*****

 

Birth Mother

 

Comfort

 the enemy

of truth

 

Prescience

the nemesis

of time

 

Insight

 the jailer

of denial

 

Freedom

the birth mother

— of dreams

 

*****

 

The Crossroad

 

An ounce

of freedom

Or a ton

of gold

The choice

is yours

Since times

of old

 

To sell

your soul

Or set

it free

A Frostian

crossroad

By choice

— decreed

 

*****

 

Love On View

 

Walking

through the park

Troubles

disembark

Watching

couples swoon

Picnicking

at noon

 

Every tree

a refuge

Rowboats

dot the sand

Joy unbridled

love on view

Cupid

— in command

 

*****

 

The First Cut

 

Never complain

never explain

 

I don’t care if you like it

I only care that you read

 

Stay undefined

the future unrhymed

 

The first cut the deepest

— forever to bleed

 

(The New Room: May, 2026)

 

 

 

Red Right Return

 

Today

unto forever

This moment

to insure

What goes around

till run aground

Comes back again

— assured

 

*****

 

Grace Maligned

 

Compromise

 a tightrope

Traversing

lives unlived

Decisions made

with sharper blades

Those gifts

that always give

 

Adulation …

false adornment

Redemption’s

last reprieve

Salvation’s

saving grace maligned

Transcendence

— left to grieve

 

*****

 

The Wonder Of Being

 

Connected

to life

Disconnected

by death

There’s no

crossing over

The Poets

misled

 

Life

is too precious

For fate

to delude

The wonder

of being

This brief

— interlude

 

*****

 

Lockstep Losers

 

Everyone dies

but very few live

Who run through the motions

like sand in a sieve

 

Their steps locked together

they march in the queue

Devoid of all focus

— life slips from their view

 

*****

 

A Raging Torrent

 

Abandoned

in their wake

we drown together

Victims of the madness

and suicide

they shared

 

Jealousy and pills

started

what gin would finish

Two kids

imprisoned

caught in their snare

 

The current

left behind them

a raging torrent

As something

grabs our ankles

pulling us down

 

Ears deafened

to our screams

in their drunken slumber

Dreaming of false glory

rhinestone fawners

— and crowns

 

(The New Room: May, 2026)