Poems of a Free Man

When ineubriation becomes the fact print the myth Sign in to see full entry.

I enjoy working After sex After a good night's sleep When my head is clear When my arms and legs bend limberly When I can think of the smell of your hair The taste of your kiss And the softness of your skin As it curves smoothly over the Mona Lisa smile of your thighs Sign in to see full entry.

Everyday was like February, so grey and dark And the promise of tomorrow was as far removed as next year Ephemeral and clouded, a circling haze of cigarette smoke. These are the days I’ve had my first true thoughts - on being born into this world - on living through the pain of this world - on being... Sign in to see full entry.

There is nothing that will save All the time we throw away And our lives will end with a question: What did we do before we entered heaven? Or what did we do before we passed to oblivion? The best we can say is we loved, we laughed But I drank and I cryed And the bluebird of Hank's dream Wonder's if... Sign in to see full entry.

Sweet freedom you are the lightness of a happy dance The warm taste-good kiss of my favorite girl The heady smell of honeysuckles twined along a fence. But I don't dance or kiss anymore And the frost has crumpled the sweet flowers Until they are just a miasmal memory of a fleeting fragrance Surely... Sign in to see full entry.

I’ve been spending mornings at home this winter Sipping coffee with my dog at my feet, Listening to talk radio, Having a morning cigarette, Looking off my balcony at the Grey leafless ash trees And the tangle of vines behind my apartment. But then the horn blows at the construction site Behind the... Sign in to see full entry.

I have grown to love that sensuous white curl of smoke Ephemeral as a mayfly and fleeting as a sunset. The five minutes of calm collection When the coffee is fresh and hot And the tobacco says Take a break, collect yourself Then get to work. Sign in to see full entry.

Last night I walked outside On my way to the store for beer But stopped as I opened the door, My eyes to the heavens. The sky was an exploding cherry Sinking down behind the church steeple The firmament flared out, parted like waves the paleness of blue Diminishing to violet On the ridges of the... Sign in to see full entry.

I’m ready for the noise to die, Cigarette smoke to fade, And the fresh air of Hope To blow across my mind Filling my lungs, Giving me the breath To climb the next mountain. But the smoke in my clothes And ache in my head Tell me, "Not yet." I am not ready - Just preparing. Sign in to see full entry.

(Or Thoughts arrived at after flipping through the pages of a paperback book of the lives of great painters published in 1949) The fading wisdom of the ages Is found down dark corridors On crumbling pages Lost to a dependence on A global markets Where silicon and plastic Hold the knowledge. What... Sign in to see full entry.