country grass in my hair v

My mind reflects a stage
My Mama tricks her brain
My hero has no cape
I feel, then go insane
I touch and it goes blank
You stare at me, without a name
I’m begging you
To restrain, the shaking of lips
How can I complain?
A mocking test-kiss
My mind reflects a stage
My Mama tricks her brain
My Papa is a bastard
Put me in a basket
Pushed me in the ocean
Left me cold and lonely
A cricket guide my swelling pride
Through a thicket to stars

country grass in my hair iv

Unconscious I put a screen
Over my blue veins
I screamed quiet whispers
In my pillow
When the wind came
And thunder shook windows
Blue above my door
And simple things I hear
Brooks of blue
I’m lost in you
Echo in my ear
Your last tears I’m sorry for you
Who I took
And your lost life
Once I got here I forgot
What’s the game?
I’m a monkey
Watch the circus
See my cage

country grass in my hair ii

She’s a dog in the night
When I’m feeling scared
But please don’t pull my hair
Lunar Woman with your champagne eyes
Will you be my friend?
Crazy sexy zebra
Tomorrows never coming
Let me take your hand
Cruising to the future with my Baby Jewel
Bound to strike a planet
Comet speed I’ll run for you
His cotton goose going to another land
And plain white heaven you can see
Her face has lost all color
A happy smile
And the lonely tree on river

country grass in my hair i

A fearless goose
Whose rider’s features are drowned
Beneath the wind
And torn from this life
Like a sliding satellite
Throws a noose across a gate
My faded broken limbs
And still like a boy
Treats the world with royal joy
See Moth King attack Cat in Black
Wooden house in heat of night
My mango leaves
Is attracting bees
Tiptoeing on water
Body stiff as dead flowers
We can go as we please


For Evelyn,

No one glances in her direction
Precious beings in halls
Charged with humble skin
In fortress of kings
She dreams herself a Queen
Rising over wheat fields
Golden tapestries play across the land of her kingdom
Few see her shine
Few see a Portuguese fire in her eyes
Trickster, she curses her enemies with a stare
Ebony horns lifted from her head
A symbol of hooked flesh
An example of Earth before the flood
Her likeness is a rose
Her beauty is a pose in the rain
Without a home

Dreams of elvish texture gentle
Protector of hummingbirds
Lily ponds and vagabonds
Where she builds a scene from nature
Bending bramble bushes and
Shucking coconuts by the sea
Her light twisted hair ballets
Around her garden features
Giving each shadow shape of
Swooping eagles
Beneath her eyes, cheeks, and
Cliff rock chin
Dancing alone like a woodland woman
Her blood pumped by a dog’s heart
No one glances in her direction
I know she’s alright
When Evelyn’s smile stretches into the City
We’re all gonna be alright

Colonel Kurtz

One song
Separate song
Year of the eclipse
I don’t really care
Until it happens –
Look, meet me halfway
One song on rock to winded
Dreaming of farmer girls
And lonely seabirds –
A man
With grenade launcher in Vietnam,
Stands numb,
Can show you to Captain
In land with no captain
Talks plainly
Just stares
And the land where my
Grandfather’s ashes
Is worth millions
Future settlers of
America —
Admire the bridges
And small rooms, quiet homes
Tear down every building you can
See and start in the mud
It is hard to sing in the face
Of any face
A song of happiness
But it shows the best of our
Don’t give the wicked too much
Power – surely do not give
Your time away to Evil
Do not write of what should not be
Never stare the nighttime


A familiar deja vu flashing daily images

One million men across the country, eyes rolling, thinking of you – With disease,

A shining light reaches a dark mirror, hidden past crooked branches in the forest – Whose fingers peeled the scalp of a flying witch, and held her hair loosely by the nail.

A hound there, led by his master, watches the navy sky tirelessly

While gracious hunter peers past overgrown eyebrows.


People, when embarrassed, crumble like ants hit by a ray from the sun.

“I like your bracelets!” “Thanks.”

Through the jungle to find what is left of his family after boarding a train in the Land of Peaches.

Where is Peach now? And Tahoe?

And the Moon’s Shadow?

Who’s is this old man insane? Staring back at me through this evil mirror – my son,

Look at the two of us, my resurrection.

Mother Earth is the Lazarus pit.

But what was my mind state as a young man?


There is a secret door outside the bank, leading into an adjacent building, where the homeless sleeps under ‘Cardboard Only’

So she used to train lions in Brasil huddled close to red alley wall, or where Buddha sits against giant Tree of Life next to calm waters loose with lotus flowers; where roots reach into the pond, a man sits under ‘Cardboard Only’

Plastic flaps behind recycle bins hide the secret door, where we study little people of our street underneath crazy lights, dark inside the mind –

Where the atmosphere is pink and misty,

Where boys in defiant caps are taken out to lunch, Where Mama starts choking and Papa says, “Shhh..”

Before golden tea poured over ice and lemon,

Where young girl runs down the sidewalk wonderous at discovery of new world in pink polka dot dress, curly hair.

The world is now, for Daniel in the lion’s den, where the old women alone are using technology at the dinner table,

On the sidewalk next to statuettes of golden goats, 

Where old Indians stare at the sun.

Tears Inside Endless Mind

“Where have you been?”

You know, strolling down the highway, wandering mountain roads; alone. Scanning the horizon where the range bumps into sky. My destination volcanic groves of sharp stone singing like a bird, smoke coming from my nose without missing the ecstasy of fresh air, almost flying across the land. Imagining my death and proud of the blues in my bread. I’ve alighted golden steps, a white light above my head. I’m lost now and never going home. 

Of course when I got to paradise it was the evergreen forests of Oregon and the coyote was screaming across plains in the night. I heard steps breaking needles and sticks. After the frights of night passed the sun rose over the snow-capped mountains – not far from ol’ Jack’s footsteps, not far from Three Finger Jack – in wonderful folds Of pink and yellow, and I saw the billionth sunrise over Indian Earth. I found my home close to the ground and I’ve appeared just in time.