That Iconic Legend
and those things it does
When I ease your pain,
I own your sanity
as well as losing my own.
Whatever eases your pain becomes
the God you worship.
All those bad dreams
become a Poem;
all those bad days turn to
Poetry someone else read
in a dark alleyway.
Some things you get over, some
things you live with, as the Raven watches
the hooded ones lower you down deep.
do a quick check in at the cat box hotel;
Lest, the only way to prove your love
and devotion is to find me a hangin’
in the garage on the end of your silken rope
sippin’ down my last jack and coke.
This anger just won’t let you go
so you can’t turn it loose into
the world of women.
It’s that insidious one
you didn’t think was there
because it submerged itself
between your hateful knees.
This empty stays as empty
as the night sky.
It’s the cream of California calling ya’
Making you take a backwards walk with a feather in your
Dodgers baseball cap.
It was living in old LA that did it to you and I.
Wading through all that smoggy traffic
in the way you have to
without pulling your smokin’ gun out of
(and, you promised me it was only goanna be just one last angry time!?)
You were takin’ a ride on that soulful tour bus, and
that ghostly driver drove you
to that mansion where all those
people were brutally killed
in the day;
and you had the gall to sit there and gawk.
But, it gawked right back at ya’ eye to eye and you didn’t
like all that dripping red, did you?
You dozed off somewhere in the heart of Disneyland as
jarred your head
back in gear and gave you partial whip lash
driving you past all those
palm trees, and a desert
of cactus and beautiful orange red sunsets,
through Hollyweird with all those dancing costumed
stealin’ the sidewalk stars
The skies killed us, that sandy beach, and everywhere you
were told to look you found out for yourself with your own
mind that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Everywhere you looked, you saw one big lie
on every lit billboard on the side of the freeway
as you drove by in your old caddy
ninety miles an hour
puffing on your big cigar
taking a swig off an open bottle of Ripple
in a bag
(like the bag’s goanna fool anyone?)
As men think they’re so strong when his woman
is wrapped up in his arms;
he fears what he already knows about his
own terminal weakness.
But, she always knows
ahead of him.
That love never fills his soul
through a shallow mind.
That the grand theory of nothing persists
in that cavern despite its
delivering a telegram to your
door with all the answers
to life you always sought.
I have none.
I have no past.
I have no son.
It is as far as I see it, and
of my own making.
As the future rises, I have no recollection of
being asked to get up and leave
this dirty city.
Yet, I have this feeling as much as I believe in the
invisible; that as I walk, I walk
as no one follows.
That I have lived in vain, that there
is something else out there;
way out there,
out of reach who colors the background
filling my eyes with what it wants me to see.
As things have turned out differently because my path in life
changed and took me there
in these worn out feet
that talk to me and say
‘do what you do because you like it, and don’t look back,
not because it feeds your body and your ego,
but because you’ve long lost your way.’