I am finally going to get to one of those bookstores and get a damned cupcake. I am going to eat it and finish these cupcake fantasies. I will finish the "Cupcake Chronicles" too. I want to finish these once light and fluffy treats, because they have turned to stone and the icing has soured. Yes boys and girls I have mentioned it before, "Even the Queen of Puddings, gets tired of pudding sometimes". I have grown tired of the cupcake. Damn me, and damn these cupcakes.
They come to get parasites and diseases picked clean by the beautifully colored neon yellow and purple cleaner wrasse. He is happy to serve the function as community cleaner, while filling his stomach too. Could there be a better contributor to the reef neighborhood? If fish voted for fish of the year, I think that on more than one ballot, the neighborhood wrasse who picks us clean while he whistles a happy bubble filled tune, would win.
There was an old home in San Francisco? There is a condo in China? There is a cabin around the Mogollon Rim? There is a patio home in Phoenix? There is a condo in Honolulu? There is a townhouse in Colorado Springs? There is a golden condo in Taiwan? There is a cluster of homes in Prescott?
Then maybe they would understand why my beater car with the stinky hats, the jammed window, the birdshit paint job and the stereo that is moody like the weather is funny.
What if there are portfolios with gold, stocks, bonds, mutual funds, stamps, coins, art, watches and jewelery? What if they are able to vanish like ghosts?
Then maybe they would understand why my shoes with the holes and me hanging with some homeless dudes eating a snack for under $5.00 is also funny.
But, like I say in my mind-"It's none of your business". While out loud I say "I am just here to support my wife and kid".
Can you caviar eaters and fine wine drinkers show me where the beer and pizza are?
There were lessons to be learned in that desert classroom
where we looked at the TV and listened to the radio for updates on the "terror"
it was one of the teaching moments of all time
and yet, we stood there, with very little to say
it was the greatest city in America, in the greatest country in the world
brought to it's collective knees, by a great "wallop" of a punch, then a second, then a third, then a fourth, and we teetered on the ropes
But, we stood like Ali, and when they had punched themselves out
we punched back with our trillion dollar wars
I am tired of biting the hand that feeds me
Tired of the taste of blood
Too many shirts with the blood drops that won't come out
Smiling with the blood between my teeth like a friendly vampire
Only you scare the shit out of the normal folk
Those that can't stand the sight of blood, get queasy
Those that love to watch zombies eat flesh and car wrecks
I am tired of entertaining you
The curtain closes on that last blood drop
This was the last splash
I am going to keep my shirts clean
I am going to be quick
What better place to pray? Under this great tree The cathedral of nature
the only instruments are a 10,000 chorus bird sound choir
the wind is here
amen at the tree
From "Walking Church Tour"
I love to check out churches
the quiet of the pews
the subdued light of stained glass
I seek not the camaraderie
But, the silence of God and time
Churches like museums
In Mexico, Arizona and Hawaii
They each have a personality
Their own divinity
Quiet, private trinity
And, if the thought occurs
I may even pray
From "Truth" and WORKS
Thank God that one retired. And we are sad for some that made us smile, with their hunting stories. Suddenly some pass away, even while holding court. Some play music and string leis, some still hit a slippery ball or two. Many drink beer and play for their teams. And some dream of young girls from poor countries.
Some take care of the community, some fall and hurt themselves. They are generally interesting, and some of the ones from Canada and California are genuine assholes. Why carry such chips on their shoulders when they come to paradise? Some still reside in our hearts and our minds, while some we want to forget. These old men make life interesting, here on the slope of the DHTC, under the brown or green iconic picture silent volcano, where God shines the sun even on rainy days.
Listening to the Jazz Crusaders live at Newport. I thought maybe Joe Sample is solo because some good bandmates may have passed.
Oh nelly, my belly turns to jelly, and there is a tear in my eye
when I think back to the riff we baked into that perfect meat pot pie
and those ghosts, those guys, my guys, are gone to heaven
oh nelly, it's really, really sad to me that once we could cook it, they would book it
Cuz the Crusaders were the top of the line
Whoa nelly, that's some smelly, nasty shit, some trick of God
That that cool of jazzy jazz men could fly off this earth with cool tunes still inside
Look no further than a museum for sketched etches in time
When man or woman had the time to ponder
And knock chips from wood or to fire a vase
or press brush to canvas
To tell the world and the heavens
"Look at what my eyes see"
"Look at what you do to me"
"You move me to this soul filled task"
This continued prayer of the ages
From "Walking Church Tour".
"But, we cannot stop this ride until it blows up at the end. So just enjoy the ride, and don't hide."
see MY CHINATOWN.
Like monsters under the bed
like the wolfman
like a fairy princess
like an ice cream truck bell
like marbles like jacks
like Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein
The unicorn of a young girl's youth,
gallops into another young girl's life
you mature and see
his beauty in your daughter's eyes
From "Numbered" and WORKS.
1. Country Acoustic
On a Texas plain, in a Tennessee valley
Nebraska flatlands, New Mexico steppes
I pick it slow, I hum, my boot taps
Maybe a rooster crows
I write a melody, for a lost country
for simple days forgotten
2. Hawaiian Slack Key
Ohana blood drips into the strings
An echo of paniolo, a dash of cowboy
Country side fishin', plate lunch wishin'
Gabby and IZ
It's plucked with aloha!
3. Electric City Jazz
Country mouse and island mouse
Welcome to my skyscrape house
Say: Pat Methany,
Al Di Meola
and Bill Frisell
I set up shop, in an old jazz haunt
Where we don't start until after midnight
From "The House of Music" and WORKS
My ego is my shadow
A great dark shadow
An abyss of putrid hate and anger
But, I am trying to lose him
Like Peter Pan in Wendy's house
His darkness fools me no more
But, he's a wicked, non-stop fighter
He's railing at me and others
And it feels like he wants to take us down
An if I can't win, then let me destroy you deal
But peace, and quiet and nature and contentment
continue to drop sand
The ego's hourglass is running out
Not without a loud, disturbing fight
Take away the phone, laptop, resume, mouth
and various outside skins
that may fool the people
His weapons are trickery
But I am now apart from his dark eclipse
I am shining like a baby
From "Chisland" and WORKS
Is there anything better in the world
than some cheese sprinkled
on a slice?
From "Scraps" and WORKS
I de white
Me wife de yellow
The policeman a brown
Dat kid a kind of orange I tink
The mailman a black
The school teacher is a deep, deep tan
De island like de crayon box
From "Wind and Rain on Rock" and WORKS
There are two,
yours and mine
And we trade waters
Well, that is to say
We begin to care less
For our own state of well
And tend more to the waters
Of the other
Well, this is love
Or a facsimile
From "Truth" and WORKS
This piece comes from some of the original LM work that was lost over the ocean between Tucson and Honolulu. It has turned unto salt water. Never to return to the well? A reprise exists in Open Mic-Your Daily Poem on the www.
Why? What is it good for?
Why try to attain it?
Why strive for it?
Has there ever been peace?
Why did Miss America hope for it?
Peace is the forest, that through policing by Smokey the Bear and other rangers is a powder keg ready to be ignited and to burn small communities and cabins nestled in the woods because we have to "get away".
It's bullshit and it's unnatural. Since the first ape men wanted ape females or better caves or food or water, they bashed skulls. They bashed'em because you looked different or smelled different or weren't one of them. That was natural and it seems like it is natural to behave this way.
On the other hand, when Romeo ape man met up with Juliet ape woman, then you had the making of a great tragedy where again it was only a matter of time before the Hatfields and McCoys were to begin shooting again. The kids had time to woo, to kiss, to make love and dream of happiness for themselves, but to think that their families would all like hanging together is a foolish dream. They should have split to Hawaii where hapa rules and you are allowed to marry into being treated OK if you not "local".
Back to peace. I have found that pockets of peace and quiet are the values on this earth. On the other hand, I will say that while our countries have let things happen in the past where great numbers have starved to death, men like Bono who have seen how to work these issues are a blessing because we can't seem to stop wars, but we can try to stop hunger and starvation.
But, is this natural? Have we always had famines and droughts and pestilence? Is this once again the woods needing to be naturally burned by lightning? Is it natural? Is it unnatural to feed and cloth and house and end war and look to attain happy mediums and win/win situations.
Compassion for our fellow man and their varying plights. I don't know them, but it seems pretty cool when Bono, the Gates family and Oprah try to turn around and use their wealth and fame to get good things done.
It may be a bit of guilt, it may be that it happened naturally for them to do what they do. I don't know.
Starving sucks I would imagine. Being homeless sucks, I would imagine. Being in war would suck, I would imagine. Have poisoned water sucks, I would imagine.
Peace and quiet, being fed, being housed, being clothed, being disease free, having no bombs blowing, and having water are all realities. But is it natural?
From "Truth" and WORKS.
Sitting at the shoreline of Waikiki,
within minutes of each other, 2 planes took off
One filled with happy memory tourists
One filled with military gear we can only imagine
What a difference a plane makes
From "Coffee, Coke, Gas and Music" and WORKS
What little brass animals and glass fish inhabit our little brain zoo? Clean up after them, change the hay, and please don't forget to lock the door behind you. Remember the last time they got out?
Life's like the ocean and I'm the shore
my writing comes out like the water
of a pressurized blowhole
Misty, salty and wind blown
From "Snakeskin and Turtle Shells"
I enjoy baiting the bear
and watch him fight
I enjoy watching the cocks
and the dogs
Once in a while I get some blood on my shirt
The price of admission
From "Numbered" and WORKS
Damn those G.K.'s
They make you happy
or sad in the right way
They make you want to dance and sing
The pessimist says: "Damn those Gypsy Kings!"
From "Hawaii: Aloha and Beyond" and WORKS
A last visit with great grandchild
A last pause with great grandson
We know, she knows
The end will suprise us soon
She's grown tired of eating, tired of the wakeful life
And you know, as sad as she is and as feeling low in these later 94 years-----
I was there for the energy
I was there when she shined
And in my simple mind-----------
The great grand dame will always shine
She will shine like the Arizona sun.
From "Wind and Rain on Rock" and WORKS
The calamaties of the world were fueled by this
Our unhappiness stems from this
Our seeming differences are really none
To know it is to deal with it
To quiet it is to live in peace
The man lives the humble life
The riddle is solved
day by day, hour by hour, second by second
From "Bobby's Mostly True Adventures" and WORKS
My wife said she played tennis with some guy from the movies. It was Malcolm McDowell of Clockwork Orange fame, while he was filming the new Fantasy Island. We sit by Kim of Lost and now Hawaii 5-0, when our kids play in tennis events. I got to say a quick hello to George Harrison while our wives got the tickets to Maui and Kauai. In tennis I have shaken hands, was befriended by, beat and played for the same teams as Stan Smith, Rod Laver and Dennis Ralston-I won't say who I did what with. They were all very humble men and nice to me.
My wife was not impressed when she saw "Magic" in Hawaii and a bunch of scantily clad women trying to go to his room, and folks trying to get pictures and autographs. She asked who he was. They told her, and she was not moved by his presence. There was a lack of magic.