RimenorReason

She will not return. Not after tonight. For her poems rhymed, and her tremulous voice, metered to the precise breath, strained to a rapid conclusion, then fell silent, still terrified from its first wavering flight, muted by the terror of it all. It was not her poems alone that were condemned, but... Sign in to see full entry.

Do not be so quick to hasten the falling sand, for I have invested more than an hour glass of time in this world. These words I repeat mantra-like at each dawn, and in hushed prayer when darkness prevails. So, hasten not your departure, I say; for you know full well the nature of that carriage and... Sign in to see full entry.

Precise the instruments by which man destroys man; meaningful dialogues being the most insidious. joab 11-07 Sign in to see full entry.

By now, most of you realize I spent some years in Venice, where I became drinking buddies with Charles (Hank) Bukowski. I feel he needs no further introduction -- his works speak volumes for themselves. This event occurred on Venice Beach, and it struck me how powerful just his presence could be --... Sign in to see full entry.

During those hazy days in S.F., when I was a denzin of Haight-Ashbury and before I divided my mind between there and Venice Beach, I was involved with a professional entertainer who, without being named, loved to chug-a-lug Southern Comfort both on/off stage. The name is not important. But this... Sign in to see full entry.

This was written during a very hectic period in my life circa. 1967; just before I exercised my option to go insane. It was scribbled on a bar napkin that I tossed away, and it was returned later by a prostitute who befriended me. Ironic, huh? Joab... Sign in to see full entry.

Not a new poem -- some of you may have seen it. But I post it in good faith. Joab ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The poem delivers itself by the same genesis that produces mountains, oceans, hurricanes, earthquakes, tornados, and newborn infants... Sign in to see full entry.

This is not new obviously. I criss-crossed the U.S., hitchhiking and busing when I had to. Some small town cops of the 60s were a lot like the loveable Barney Fife, always on point like a rat terrier. Got my head and beard cut once, Barney used grass clippers. joab Jolted awake by reflected darkness... Sign in to see full entry.

The almost noon sun moves in many dimensions, through worlds unseen. Space becomes an erratic sculpture, an abstraction of pure thought distilled into energy we can only hint at but never comprehend, except as five senses eternally seeking the sixth. joab 11-07 Sign in to see full entry.

Because this world is too small to contain my Beloved, I am transported to a secure and secret place, protected from life's ills. I call it a pedestal, yet everywhere I turn, my Beloved is there, prepared to protect me from grief and harm. May I always be able to reach inward and hear my Beloved's... Sign in to see full entry.