Monday, May 12, 2025

Magic canvas


 Magic canvas


We gathered round the magic canvas

If it would please reveal something to us

If inspiration was in our future

Or more misery void of color 

It took an entire bottle of wine

But in the magic canvas own time

This image emerged with profound words

 But before we could write it down

Gesso was applied and the 

Inspiration never found.

Pedal prophets


 Pedal Prophets 


And in the latter days 

The days after fossil fuel

Electric too

The days of malaise

The pedal prophets came

Exclaiming, lube your chains

But we of the beastly mark 

Our bikes could not start

for our lube was of

Petroleum product.

Catch a river

 Catch a river


It was the most unorthodox method

My only lure was Suwannee inside 

I cast upon the land the liquid

Oh how I like my river fried.


Chain reaction


 Chains reaction 

Johnclarestokes 


Last evening an angel came

Unlocked the chains

Opened the cell windows 

The heavy doors 

With light blinding streaming in

Quickly now!come! The angel said

Looking about

All the clinging chains clamored,

Stay! Stay!

We are your friends!

Do not abandon us here!

I almost said, I'll stay

When the angel told me

Weep not for the chains 

Tomorrow comes another 

Shackled to comfort them

Forgetting they ever

Held you tight.

Irene and Vera

 Irene and Vera. A kind man gave Magoo a rare tip when he was a DME and he passed it on, telling Vera, then 92 that he would give her a print of her mother Irene and her, whom she lost at the age of eleven, her mother dying in childbirth. Magoo’s father lost his own mother, a year later in 1937 from a blood cot. He never forgot his Ethel Marie either. Today on Mothers Day,  if she is yet among us, Vera would be 100.


Once upon over time


 Once upon a time

Over Once Upon A Time

Elephant herds roamed

The heavens

But they were heavy

And felI

From Heaven

Where today 

They roam 

Over dream


 Above me


In my deepest dreams above me

One comes floating gently

Wake, wake the day awaits

Reaching, the tiny hand I take

Rising to greet the happy day

We float higher along our way.

Mamma


 Mamma,mamma!

john clare


Who first when you were lifted from her womb

did you call upon but

Mamma,mamma!

Who first when you were scared of the

dark in your room

did you call upon but

Mamma,mamma!

Who first when you tripped and broke your tooth

did you call upon but

Mamma,mamma!

Who first when dad was about to spank and 

wanted the truth

did you call upon but

Mamma,mamma!

Who at the first day of grade school 

did you call out for but

Mamma,mamma!

Who cheered the loudest at your games and

was always there

Who did you seek out first but

Mamma,mamma!

Who when you walked the aisle for your diploma

did you want first to show but

Mamma,mamma!

Who when you found the girl just like mamma

did you hurry home to tell but

Mamma,mamma!

And who when that first son was born did you

want first to hold but

Mamma,mamma!

And why is it that now after all those calls to

Mamma

Did today you not first call

Mamma,mamma?

Arsonist










 Tabor burning:1983

johnClare stokes


Oh the dark secrets that could be learned

If we were only given the gift to discern

Why we could see by the expression

The inner thoughts so long repressing

In the eyes know without a doubt

That in eighty three with whom you were out

Why now after all these years

You still shed those mysterious tears

We could even tell without a smell

The smoke from the fires you made

And how so long ago with matches you played.

Servant Spirit


 Servant spirit


There he was upon his knees in filth, her broken back in a body brace, no help but for Jim who lived in the shed, spending his days rummaging in the Big Lots dumpsters, finding all manner of things he would bring to the dark shed. With every lift upon the bed, he would cast his eyes away, the thought of what lay beneath tattered sheets repulsing. For now all was well and she effusively thanked him for being a godsend. He just wanted to not be one.

He knew

 He knew


I think like me he knew

That time was painfully brief

We were quickly passing through

To the long years of grief


In that moment of time

We rushed to get our lives in

Love excelled, love Divine

Our time so soon did end.


Puff

 Puff the Magic


In the walking hours of our lives




Upon deeply blazed paths traveling

Weighed with burdens bending low

We thank the loads that make us slow

Stooping to see about the dandelion 

the angels dancing in perfect time!

Such is the way they come to us 

Their images in an unfocused dream

At the precise moment of the bending.

Then puff!

And in a twinkling we lift in suspension

Held in perfect pirouette

above the burden below.