Saturday, October 11, 2008



there’s a poem being written in my head
wants to come out and play for keeps
wants to call you on the telephone

there’s a poem standing on a bridge
cool breeze delivering these words fresh
I’m not telling tales out of school

you’re an empress of the blues
knew it first time I tasted your cooking
you’re a master of blending and purring

there’s a poem being written in the cosmic traffic
chicken soup for the soul a big fat disingenuous lie
discovering a stranger in a strange land god medicine

I feel the blues everywhere I go
they stalk me like pillars of pepper & salt
there’s a poem being written in my blood

for you

Charlie October 11, 2008 3:39 PM
(for Val)

This, That and the Other Thing

Write you a poem
Right some self prescribed wrong
Glue the wings back on a butterfly.

I’m listening to Jim
I’m not obsessing
A golden rule still holds dominion.

We talked on the phone
The silence brought us closer together
So thankful you saved me from self-wreckage.

Caucasian White plays in my Grado Labs SR60 Cans
It’s like a dead angel kissing you when your heart is open
It’s like driving off the road toward oblivion or Columbus, Ohio.

Thursday, October 9, 2008 12:04 PM

(for Val)

Space The Final Frontier

The sun a spaceship we enter and ride.
The moon a covered wagon
We sleep inside like drunk cattle.

When I dream I swear it’s not of you.
I dream only of strangers sleeping with strangers.

I wish I understood personal space
And why intimate encounters are too often
Devoid of prayer or solitude.

The sun a mother-ship we must learn to respect.
The moon an automobile in need of clean fuel.

August 30, 2008


I’m a poet
I’m a Jew
Been writing this same poem for two thousand years

I was ignored
I was crucified
I was forgiven for someone else’s sins

I’m a romantic
I’m a cynic
Been complaining since before I was conceived

You are a princess
A refugee
Been planting the same seeds for twenty two years

You were placated
You were compensated
You were driven out of the garden for crimes you refused to commit

Together we are a dream come true
The monsters under the bunk beds gave up their ghosts when we United
Nightmares were less scary when we listened to each other with open Hearts.

Charlie July 24, 2008
For Lisa Lisa

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