PUBLISHMENTS

SteepleJack Beer

by yours truly!

been wondering what else I've written

well here it is

Soylent Green

Whether it tis nobler to drink ale
or ply the crook and brook to fish
the bubbles are the same that arise
if you keep in mind, one is God's land
and the other but human nature
both stir steady relaxation

release in work, relaxation
to tie the fly, ply, and chill ale
while wading in or from bank, fish
the eddies of flowing that arise
from the cycling eternity of land
that is Eden when smog lifts off nature

when foggy or snowing or of rainy nature
maybe it is too hot for any relaxation
seek the shade brew some ale
buckle down, tend house, smoke fish
shine the light so you may arise
to meet demands of cynical land

to meet the demands of a cynical land
that would hide the fish and beer in nature
that would hide the steady pace in relaxation
that would addict to work and ale
that would poison the byways of fish
that would put guns in young hands, arise

like fertilizer that bring tomatoes to arise
oil can both be a boon and vice to a land
it brings the dollars and ease greasing nature
but brings inequality to deserved relaxation
instead of volunteering your drinking that ale
instead of inventing your out for a fish

we used to fertilize with fish
and something would stay with the land,
when oil runs dry so do farms in nature
and the malt shrivels in relaxation
and then we have no more tomato ale
with hot tamale sauce and got to fish

If fish could feed millions in Jesus' land
we're going to need it as we reinvest in nature
with billions more, arise, brew a ale. Relaxation

Obama in the yold

Pisces in the Milky Way
swims upstream to breed
10,000 miles he's traveled, astream,
to arrive again from where he left
to embody and release
and fertilize the valley
with his honesty, integrity, and thick skin
in the cycle of things

His brain, his philosophy
His heart, his economy
His gills, by the grace of God
gives life to hope
that is fish

all of these in the cycles of things
give rise to new life
like the body of Christ
nourishes and feeds the soul
that is wheat, tree, minnow
meadow and fold
hearth and hold

a check on power that would corrupt
the cycle of things brings
moderation to an entropic woald

TradeWars2000

My purple crayon is my intelligence
the hand that guides, my wisdom, and
In my brainpan lies the world
unfurled & unrestrained by boxes of philosophy
it lies beyond the fictions of man
unto it's own rules
as a constellation of synapses
unfolding king cepheus

Sight, touch, hearing, knowing
these be but a smell of flower
that grows under a rock overhang of time
which, the rock, uncaring loves neither you nor me
until that day Jesus comes to bless it
yet the flower will grow all the same in indifference
having sprung from the same well
it's role entwined with the universe
refuting destiny by imparting free will
to truth itself
in that
it asserts one aspect of all knowledge
in the same note and key
to play along in melody of the universe
for the senses are not greedy
they just want to keep it real
like the best rapper out there

what is this thing remembering the unlearned
but trying to smell a flower that has long since
gone to seed on a mountain top 33 years gone by
there is no tapping the nOosphere
in an electric universe...
only waves and currents
circuits and maybe dynamos
that pie the sky with the likes of Leo and Cassiopeia

so try not to turn lead into gold
but observe the universe
and transmute ignorance into fine clothes
therein lies the Diamond Mind

For the space dock has been blown up by a quantum torpedo

Me and My Truck

The manifold of sustainability
lingers on hopes and dreams,
yearnings.. steaming beans,
that only widespread change can meet
The gov'ment, the voice of change
the guiding hand
the prince of lanes
whom directs traffic down avenues

Me and my truck is all I have
I can screw in a lightbulb
but where is the love
to make me stronger
to fly like a dove
to fly through the canyon
with a gallon of bioamplification

we can eat our disease
or we can make it clean
full of life in balance
teaming with frogs
and bugs that pollinate making honey
and wildflowers that harvest the sight
as wolves bite out the sick and overpopulated
Let us be wolves and bite out the waste and overconsumption
before the economy of ecology collapses beneath our feet

Like Oil and Water

Drilling rigs are boring
through the iris of the earth
one finds the salt of the gods
imitating water
but poison to the yeast

When descending into the Iris of the Earth
relative baselines become basin and source
while one weathers into the other unending
the valley is to the mountain
as the root is to the peak
and the crust to the rift
where all mountains begin
from compression produced therein

From the Salt of the Gods
Ra's Chariot becomes commonplace
to dangle on a thread
between love and hate
in our roadrage
and mercenary economy
of corporate lobbying

In imitating water
heaven's abode is synthesized
giving life to the tree of economy
but so large it grows
kills the ground growth
and threatens houses
in senescence
from 10,000 winds
caught in it's leaves

The poison to the yeast
is as peak to root
in our roadrage
in our mercenary economy
but so large it grows
into 10,000 winds
it is as poison to the yeast

It's 3:15 and the bell is ringing

When no longer found to other's vision
a beer gets drunk, and assholes get punked
signs get started and poems get thunk
wildmagic blooms in stars above
wild hearts loom the magic of love

When a beer gets drunk and assholes are getting punked
mankind is better for it
nuff said
except that perhaps nothing comes for free
when one tries to build a better futurosity

When signs get started and poems get thunk
consciousness is harkened to foam at the front
erasers get nibbled, conformity funked
and wheels get driven past driveling frivility
making what one prays to be a better day

When wildmagic blooms in stars above
constellations wave back and footsteps glow
doorways appear and overgrowth folds
sanctuary holds for your souls sojourn
past delusion, past preoccupation, and straightjackets alive otherwise.

When wild hearts loom the magic of love
glamours wished become reality
while perhaps nothing comes for free
the wheels get driven past driveling frivility
in striving for heaven for who wouldn't want to
when wild hearts loom the magic of love