Jump starting my pen

Xmas at drug store

stocking suffers

on the floor

while the huffers

break  the door

Wheres Carol

Harks Herald

Swinging Noel

Scared, me ?

wrong door key

right house

lie on the lawn

sleep until dawn

dew me

Knits and knots

Tramp stamps and I love gramps

Needles & pins, losses and wins

Broke again, got the cramps
Strut outs, tuck-ins

On a walk

Turning in

Getting out

Aromas , branches

skip over a crack

 a girl I fucked,

a car I wrecked

no girls here

Warehouse bar

 Queens and  beers

Strips and cheers

Talk of tights

 bitchslaps

 flab

Rubber eraser, wow the lights

 drag  Donna Summer

 gave a hummer

To the slummer

Belfasting duties

Old Dublin towers

Paddy or Powers

Not on my person

Minister Jameson

Father Bushmills

Neither is swill

A Molotov cocktail

What the feck

Hit the deck

Paging Mel Gibson

Jesus had a brew
with Netanyahu
Pope spoke
in Aramaic
not Hebrew
spilled wine
over Palestine
no one could see
Mel from Galilee

http://uk.reuters.com/article/2014/05/26/uk-pope-holyland-jesus-idUKKBN0E618X20140526


Halloween daily(updated9/26/15)

bloody vampires
stiff zombies
films , drinks
sunken cheeks

alien nation
no elation
Hilary for
prison 2016


charlotte, you white harlot
shattered rear views
blocked white mews

crayon black
crayon white
on attack
in a fright

crayon red
crayon blue
need more hue
no thank you

F U Fidel

commie red
you're dead
it's swell
bye fidel

Masking tape 
you toss shit
at stupid sheets
to clean up the streets


Dead at door
Need milk after midnight
cookies, too
young man got the door
bullets, two

Bigot blues
slight or smelts
snow angel melts
that's not fair
prove you care
make it  re-shape
privileged jape

random flashback while wringing the words out: "Western Auto sold tennis balls in the late 70’s when tennis became popular in the blue collar neighborhoods."

Going Green
Green Tax flames
Macron plays games
ignites France
into violent dance

5/7/19: Need to find a way to work this into a ditty- it gave me a morning chuckle :  Swalwell, a Dem Prez candidate, stops short of calling for impeachment, calls Trump "a really bad kid.
6/11/19: another one worthy of a ditty:  June 10, 1845: #AndrewJackson ’s African Grey parrot was removed from  the 7th American President's funeral for swearing.

3/14/20: I arrived at this line while trying to arrange some sketches in a short ramble called Western Carr on the 1950's art and Politics.
"McCarthy finding reds under the linoleum while Coen pretends he’s Goliath protecting his david."

7/17/20: This headline today, "Italian police intercept coffee beans stuffed with cocaine," takes me back to the old 1940s tune "who put the benzedrine in Mrs Murphy's ovaltine" by the Harry "The Hipster" Gibson.

3/2/21

backs up, backs turned

home jail for Sarkozy

French courts get dizzy

Loreal unblemished

march 12, 2022

 hopscotch between ice slivers

emotion quivers

not a day 

to play 

Grace Jones intones

walk in the rain

oct 8, 2022

 Last thing Tom needs is the cops knowing that he uses Joe to collect the bigger gambling debts. He fades into a dream about all the trouble he stirred up as an 18yr old when he pursued Nancy Trabiski, a longshoreman’s wife for a month, before he returned to girls his own age. Hetty doesn’t know that story. He wakes up thinking if Hetty inherits her aunt’s money, I can drop the betting book and exit this crumbling area

oct 15, 2022

In my 20s I made some brief some brief ventures into the local Baltimore music scene reciting my lyrics. The first day I could get the Lancettes together, the bassist played surf music while the guitarist ventured into Led Zep, and the drummer Lance thought he was playing behind Captain Beefheart. That brief session felt like an eternity, but a few days later we did fun free gig on a Sunday afternoon bill in a room in the UMBC Fine Arts building, and I recall Adolf K and Aziza finding me in the men's room to tell me we had the "look" to be an MTV band.

oct 29, 2022

Hockery cradles two bottles of clear liquor and is singing Country Death Song by the Violent Femmes while Santa gives him a dirty look.

Nov 26, 2022

 Sometimes, I'll stroll down to the BU Cafe and check out the waitress from Turkey, who does fascinating things with a toothpick and her tongue, but her Turk boys keep me at a distance. Interesting side shows in a joint that sells Greek food.

March 4, 2023

 Some jackass was swinging his elbows imitating a basketball player clearing space after grabbing a rebound. I avoided full contact but he busted my lips. Do you have any mouthwash?

Dec 2, 2023

Hey man, I noticed Harry sleeping in his truck with the engine running in your neighbor’s driveway.

Oh Christ one of the guests will be thrilled to bust a window. Let’s go rouse him..

working on short story: Burtons

Skin pops

 I chafed aloud to a Lit Prof in 1980 about the classic allusions that required footnotes in most of T S Eliot's poetry, and now I'm offering poems with references to more recent writers.

I offer brief pre-notes:

In the late 90's , I awoke  thinking that Jim Carroll,  NYC Catholic boy, hoopster, & junkie poet had died and wrote down some lines which I edit from time to time. He died 9/11/09.

Jim Carroll’s passing Chelstea

Syringe

              Between board and rim

Gimmick

             Between sermon and hymn

Trespass

              Into extreme unction

Slide

            Chair to floor

Death

            Foreseen in final work

Minutes

             Twenty from Chelsea to Inwood

______________________________________________
I took  a class on America in the 1950's  in 1981 and was turned on to Jack Kerouac (nicknamed Memory Babe before the booze took over). My feelings for his works go up and down and  have never reach the apex they did when I was in my early 20's. Hey jack, sorry,  but I have edited.

 

    beaten Kerouac

   Memory Babe lost Mary

but never Mommy.

crawling in bars grumbling to die

Lucien carved Kam

Jack went on the lam

Married for bail

Got out of jail

 never said I do to Mardou

 Neal zooms cars

the Gerard appeal

proxy brothers and Florida bars

It wasn’t Tokay to beat it

After the surge of the road

And the brief Harlem Howl

Town or city, slum or slum

too drunk for whores 

sat or I won’t 

“too white” hick who found his way to Pic

                                                   And stumbled off the hippie bus for good

Neal, flat across the tracks              

Billy, heroin or boys shag

Allan, where are the fellas

Jack, TV slurs and slacks

Liver finally blows in Fla

Laid low in Unwell, Mass

_________________________________________________
I was watching  Patti Smith cover a Bob Dylan tune "Changing of the Guard" and inked some lines. Tom Verlaine  borrowed the last name from a French poet. 

Patti strands Verlaine 

Sweatin gray hair sticks 

receiving  Benediction inside of society

standing barefoot

on the 25^th floor

Privilege earned and lust

Knees to the sun for fiends

“free’ money for

the citizen ship

Was that a crow pissing in the river

Or horses in the hall?

Poets on the mend

Behind torn curtains
_________________________



I offer a snippy ditty for Hunter S Thompson. My opinion of HST wanes as I learn more about him.

No free rides on a Harley

Hell’s boys felt your smear

Others, your loathing and fear

Pointing a pen or a gun

Against everyone

Then yourself

______________________

Soiree time in the early 20th century

 

T Spoons

Eliot's strings, rings, and things

fine, fine

where’s the wine

Sir, sir

No nectar

Only tea

I see, I see

Earnest- he, he

Chose not to be

More tea?

Let’s sugar

F Scott snaps, dines

Ivy flaps on plate

Ice chutes

Rips roots


Wright outside

Was Richard right
a little uptight
cells to sells
Paris swells
blurb. verve
Roxie, MS curve
moxie, not verve

Goofin on Neal
dust bowl to Denver
go, go, go nights
speed thru red lights
trains, chicks , talks, kicks
pool hall tea sticks
trippin Kesey
slappin back Kerouac
stole time  so easy
across tracks, grateful, dead

Too
stick stuck right shoe
wet leaves tumble
flags flap rumble
sky peeks purple blue




Lex Market Xmas season 1987
hooker stiff walks sore
chuckles to corner store
smokes til bike kid
drops the alley lid

black chicks, purple hair
old guys, just stare
we goof, gab, guzzle
taking in the puzzle

2015
bring in the year
bang on my ear
he died she died
I ran i cried

Row home Alley

not his window
not his wife
teen calls out
need a shirt
gotta go
i'm up next

ignore him
pitch the ball

Goofin
ISIL
ISIS
missile
crisis

Ouch, Ginsberg
“I see the lame minds of a generation ruined by
badness, grieving hysterical, spoiled
texting themselves through the clean streets at noon
whining for an instant fix,

Sill Label 4

current sea shifts
rubel fee drifts
just hit to play
then must delay

Ry Goodbye , too hip
borrowed a Ford
to see ol Gord
as his poetic brain
slips down the drain
maybe a Leafs cup
before time is up

what he was seen

with the Queen

Knot O2
 sarin dip ity
 ass mad strikes today
 makes Syrians pay
 yellow vomit in your city
 knived nerves fray

Trash way
who's that squattin
between the two shadows
staining the breezeway walls
panties up, she's done
she calls
I ain't shittin
here
Would Bawdy Le care
or sneer

Wife and kids
Sun's up, empty whisky jar,
queried on my family
Gabe, can't you see
 that's my car

sept 9, 2016 log

Fighting distractions in another attempt to capture the sights and sounds of Baltimore mid 1980's with a major focus on FellsPoint , SoBo, Sowebo, and Midtown.   I change the characters, but versions of this memory dull but don't fade: "On my way along Charles St to Howeirds Bar and Middle Eastern music draws me into the UD Café and the sight of a Turkish waitress  swinging her hips and tongue-rolling a cherry stem  while serving Greek food."......

oct 8 log

..........What the hell, I swallow the dime of tan hash, order a double cheeseburger , and enjoy the chill of the AC.

dec 2 log

working on yet another 1980's Bmore story "a priest with an effeminate voice is presiding over a rehearsal wedding and my dad looks at me and says you were right. I finger point for him to face the altar. As soon as practice is over, he says "I remember those stories you told me about priests and altar boys, and I nod while thinking, (a hell of a time for you to acknowledge Balzac’s tales) then laughing at how he shrugged off my recollections a few months ago and how he’s interpreting them now.

 april 22, 2018

Testalls
balls in a sack
pack the bearing
no caring
rack em up
swing em
fisted,gifted lifted
no sharing

June 13, 2018

Scribbling some notes for future use. An old drinking buddy of mine used to tell of the thrill of getting one dance with  #hedylamarr at a USO function raising money for World War 2 bonds. At the time I doubt if he knew that the #austrian -born starlet co-authored a patent on radio waves.  Some ideas in that patent were later incorporated into blue tooth technology. After WW2, my buddy became a plumber and occasionally wore a T-shirt with the words, your shit is my bread and butter."

july 21, 2018

still working on my Baltimore 1980's downtown stories: "Stumble  a block to Howweirds deli side for a sausage and egg sandwich and  fountain soda around 10AM, and Bunky pulls up a chair and chats me up about my daytime appearance throwing off the clocks in this hood. I'm slow on the uptake while he slides me a folded up magazine item and relates how he found Big Dale face down dead in an apartment building he owns.

May 30, 2020

Old time expressions: sneak thieves are checkin the alleys for unlocked doors from Jim Carroll's "city drops into the night". 

 Chinchorro Bank, was known as "Sleep-robbing reef" because of the dangers it posed to seafarers.

Nov 30, 2021

Since my college days, I've had a like/dislike thing for T S Eliot, and I found this while reading a book review on the great poet. T S Eliot's first wife, Vivienne Haigh-Wood, would occasionally show up at his poetry readings carrying a sign that stated “I Am The Wife He Abandoned.”

August 6, 2022

It's alleged that Stallone named his character Rambo after the French poet Rimbaud. Maybe he was thinking of these lines “In the morning I had a look so lost, a face so dead, that perhaps those whom I met did not see me."

Bad Blood”― Arthur Rimbaud, A Season in Hell  

Jan 29, 2023 : RIP Tom Verlaine

May 7, 2023: Listening to Days by Television with Tom V on lead guitar and singing.

sept, 9,2023: short story notes:  your car is halfway on my sister’s lawn.

May 2, 2024: from my notes on Change from a dream: In my 20s I made some brief some brief ventures into the local music scene reciting my lyrics. The first day I could get the Lancettes together, the bassist played surf music while the guitarist ventured into Led Zep, and the drummer Lance thought he was playing behind Captain Beefheart. That brief session felt like an eternity, but a few days later we did fun free gig on a Sunday afternoon bill in a room in the