feelin grounded –
in a well grounded
peaceful environment,
is an absolute compulsion distinction.
it’s that feel of being on a crowded airplane
with that all cramped up arrangement
depictin life’s existence,
while crossin the french alps
in a heavy rain,
and enduring massive air pockets of disturbance.
pryin open the lotus,
in a visual to grow
brighter n brighter,
requires massive muscles.
here the eye-lids flutter,
while the most of delicate changes
enhance thought forms,
in a workin me over n over
with utter enthusiasm
in my subconscious mind
without me know in it.
as it may,
it snuggles words up against my ears
to counteract rocky disturbances.
suddenly, the last thing
i want to do –
the very thing
I need to do:
get it down on paper,
so the positive moment
can holler
at the top of its lungs.


when babies cry,
i have to leave the residence.
it’s from being higly sensitive to the sound,
and from havin flashbacks.
when my youngest son was born,
i was workin seven days a week,
twelve hour days.
on top of that,
had a part time job
workin fours hours a night.
the one i was with
didn’t want to work,
or even take initiative
to have formula ready.
back in the 80’s,
ya had to boil water
and then add the formula.
didn’t get much sleep
during this stretch run
of workin so many hours.
still, i had to get up
and take care of the child.
he had colic in the worst way,
and it’s no wonder
life back then was a nightmare.
i had too much responsibility,
and sometimes i just have to hold back
the watery eye treatment.


It’s when a man
reaches deep within,
and reads himself,
and in conjunction
while doing that,
he’s readin into –
how she wakes up
in the mornin beside ya,
because he spent the time
holdin the pen,
as if she was leaving
soft strokes
in all her curves
on the paper,
as it left a pure outline
into the plot carried out
from her soul
on how to be magical
the moment
you took the time
to read her into your writing !!


if i may,
take pulls from the 1955 classic movie,
“seven year itch,”
starring marilyn monroe n billy wilder.
to visualize monroe’s dress
blowing up a subway grating,
is all to metaphoric
for all that is annoying
in a work life sitting on a forklift.
it’s a contagious skin irritant
in the scratching of scabs
of mis-aligned social behavior.
marilyn has always been
an aura like queen in my heart.
this french arrogant spirit
running in my genes,
is appropriately imagined
for those that know a little history.
this die-hard urge to move on,
that’s just not limited to marital infidelity,
leave bold words
from all that difficulty
in needing a life for utmost relief.
maybe it’s time it reaches paris
while standing high up on the eiffel tower.
all these years as an adult –
it’s been incredibly unfaithful
in the creative exacerbated eye.
wouldn’t it be something
if this was ran in US newspapers?


absolutely right now,
here at this place –
symbolism is an integration
of the big three –
self, soul, and dreams.
it’s a wild-eyed spiritual developer
when it comes to triangles.
it’s a 3D apparatus
in greater spectrums of awareness,
commanding power in blades like razors,
of which is so natural in energy,
it’s like a bunch of windmills
standing tall where the winds make them hum.
it’s a little psychic,
incredibly bountiful in emotional affairs,
as if hanging in the appalachians
in the catskills of the empire state,
where the highest peak
is needed for engagements in viewable perspectives
in a slide mountain
take it to resorts in popular vacation sightseeing.
all this build up of wonder
is the pyramids eye
dangling in the triangles
straight out of the third eye
that’s invisible in my forehead.


all this poetry
I’ve been writing lately
is an excessive breathing campaign.
I told another a quite awhile ago,
I wasn’t going to
be a hip hop
right back into society
kind of guy.
i’m not very fond
of the state of Pennsylvania
as of this moment.
why should i be fond of it?
it’s going to take a huge effort
on their part
to reintroduce me back into society
in a dignified manner.
an accelerated rehabilitative disposition program
is an appropriate measure
that can heal a few of these wounds,
and maybe it might take a few of these
chips off my shoulder.
you earned this respect – deal with it.


ah poetry !!

isn’t it wonderful

that the starry-eyed

in creative writing

is intent on following the siren call?

the one in love

with the idea of

“being” a poet.

to escape the workshirts and jeans

and hard-working values,

while wanting “the real thing.”

to wonder why poets

are so apt to write about,

“matters in the bedroom.”

at least one can find

fiction and non-fiction –

depending on where ya

really want to go with it.

don’t ya think

that poets are born

with a purposeful intent,

to kinda imply

that brawls behind school buses,

aren’t particularly equal in math equations

for the classroom in academic unmasking?

exquisite art

is to incite awestruck attention

in cautionary tales,

to prove anything of substance

requires a good beating.

ah poetry !!

it’s review oriented time –

get used to reformation acts !!


symbolism –
it’s everythin these days.
words can carry a lot of weight
in tryin times –
especially in traumatic current events.
it takes a lot of documentation
in the poetics of truth
to reach defining moments.
the immune system
takes a beating on the sides of the lips.
them cold sores
just don’t seem to go away
for very long
as they keep coming back.
it’s tough,
when ya have to open
your mouth wide
to take a bite
out of hamburger
that’s pretty thick.
it takes a lot of silent screams
in the social media outlets
over a period of time
to open the doors of justice
and raise awareness.
conventions –
it’s a little ironic
that when it comes to wars,
it’s a battlefield nevertheless
without any bombs or guns.
it can have a big impact
even from a guy
that was born in geneva pa.


i am your slave.
ya are my master.
“what on earth
could ya possibly want?
after all,
think of it like,
what would make your heart dance in circles
that are powerful vibes to your existence?
go ahead and give it a try ….please.”
“ok, i’ll try it,
but it’s a tough thing on earth
to accomplish, at least for me.
if a genie bottle
were placed in front of me,
i’d rub it three times,
then it a soft voice i’d say,
i want the most beautiful peach.
the one that blossomed
every day of her life
when she was cut from the umbilical cord,
so sweet to the taste like that of peach cobbler.”
“is that your wish?”
“i wouldn’t have said it if i hadn’t meant it.”
“it’s pretty simple my friend,
ya control everything about me,
and this doesn’t have to be your only wish.
just write them down –
let those little thoughts
start to manifest
into bigger dreams.
bigger wishes though need an incredible amount
of thunder-like vibrations.
remember ya are MY MASTER,
and don’t ya ever forget that !!
prepare to have your mind blown into all the winds.”