TRAIL-MIX

Many of my poems are born of thoughts which come to me while walking or hiking.  I hope this expanding web volume will be food for thought.  For now, I have given little attention to punctuation, and none to the order of presentation.

Robert D. Peckham (signed TBob or TennesseeBob) bobp@utm.edu



"Storm Coda"

And when at last
the solar eye does pierce the shredding clouds
it casts a glory of muted gold in rain-soaked dusk
upon the land
and joins the polychrome praise of trees
dancing their delight in wind's embrace

(TBob, October 2001)



"October 1987"

"...praeterit enim figura huius mundi." (I Cor.7,31)

a railer sun
probes frost-blighted lawns
color drained
pommeled and bruised by late autumn rains
the birth-doomed promise of spring
is now a rotting corps
whose stubborn death embrace
hides chain-link fence bottoms
but oh, paradoxical and mysterious Entropy
chemical cradle
ever outliving the living
vital and villainous architect of dust
we
symbiotic adversaries
grow feeble in our common finitude
awaiting the void
beyond power and memory



"Le Petit déjeuner à Martin" par TBob Perverti (1995, spoofing Jacques Prévert's poem, "Le déjeuner du matin")

Il a mis le bacon
dans la poële
Il l'a frit
Dans la graisse du bacon
Il a mis des oeufs
Il a sorti les petits pains chauds
de leur poële

Il a mis le bacon
sur l'assiette
Il a mis les oeufs
avec le bacon
Il a mis les petits pains chauds
sur l'assiette
avec le bacon et les oeufs
et il a mis la sauce "red-eye" là-dessus
sans me parler
du procès de OJ
sans m'en offrir à manger
Puis, il est parti
parti traire ses vaches
ses vaches si précieuses
Et moi j'ai pris
mon nez dans mon mouchoir
et je me suis mouchée.

Bob Peckham



Here is where I have added a stanza to Charles d'Orléans' famous plea for peace:

"Priez pour paix"  Charles d'Orléans

PRIEZ pour paix, douce Vierge Marie,
Reine des cieux et du monde maistresse,
Faites prier, par vostre courtoisie,
Saints et saintes, et prenez vostre adresse
Vers vostre fils, requerant sa hautesse
Qu'il lui plaise son peuple regarder
Que de son sang a voulu racheter,
En deboutant guerre qui tout desvoie;
De prieres ne vous veuillez lasser,
Priez pour paix, le vrai tresor de joie.

Priez, prelats et gens de sainte vie,
Religieux, ne dormez en paresse,
Priez, maistres et tous suivant clergie,
Car par guerre faut que l'estude cesse;
Moustiers destruits sont sans qu'on les redresse,
Le service de Dieu vous faut laisser,
Quand ne pouvez en repos demeurer;
Priez si fort que briefment Dieu vous oie,
L'Eglise veut a ce vous ordonner;
Priez pour paix, le vrai tresor de joie.

Priez, princes qui avez seigneurie,
Rois, ducs, comtes, barons pleins de noblesse,
Gentils hommes avec chevalerie;
Car meschants gens surmontent gentillesse;
En leurs mains ont toute vostre richesse,
Debats les font en haut estat monter,
Vous le pouvez chascun jour voir a clair,
Et sont riches de vos biens et monnoie,
Dont vous deussiez le peuple supporter;
Priez pour paix, le vrai tresor de joie.

Priez, peuples qui souffrez tyrannie,
Car vos seigneurs sont en telle faiblesse
Qu'ils ne peuvent vous garder pour maistrie,
Ni vous aider en votre grand destresse;
Loyaux marchands, la selle si vous blesse
Fort sur le dos, chacun vous vient presser
Et ne pouvez marchandise mener,
Car vous n'avez sur passage ni voie,
En maint peril vous convient-il passer;
Priez pour paix, le vrai tresor de joie.

   ENVOI

Dieu tout-puissant nous vueille conforter
Toutes choses en terre, ciel et mer,
Priez vers lui que brief en tout pourvoie;
En lui seulement est de tous maux amender;
Priez pour paix, le vrai tresor de joie.


CODA (TBob)

Priez PDGs de toute industrie,
Ouvriers, cadres chômeurs; qu'on redresse
Le tort sanglant de guerre, et qu'on oublie
Les chemins noirs menant vers la déesse
Folle qui se croit reine. Il n'y a presse
De faire sur nous les coupes verser.
Nous voulons tous le regard éviter
Que la Mort d'Harmaguedon nous envoye,
Le cri des gens que le feu va bruler.
Priez pour paix, le vray tresor de joye.



"Non sequiturs from the glorious squeaking void" (TBob, 2001)

Silence cries "midnight"
and hurls dawn upon us
baking our words in the ovens of doomsday
stepping in tune with the nettles of noonday
sorrowful sandals
pumps with no handles
arob@se lodged in the eye of the luddite
thus,
in the seas swarming
we curse global warming
and where are the yesteryears knee-deep in snow?
only the wizard will know.



Stormstruck (TBob 1991, about the Gulf War)

Iraqi attack
    on sacred Saudi soil
Patriots pop
    and make scudding clouds boil
Serpents of Saddam
    dancing in Dhahran
Traitor trajectory
    leads to a launch site
Wondrous wart hogs
    guided by satellite
Fireborn frenzy
    darkling epiphany
Bedouins wonder
    at Desert Storm's thunder.



"Questions qui ne se posent pas" (TBob, 1997)

Me demander où je travaille
C'est poser question indiscrète.
Mieux vaut manger un' livre d'ail
Que parler de façon si bête

Me demander mon parti pris
Suis-j' FN ou bien RPR.
"On n'accepte point ca", je crie
Mieux vaut parler d'la fête des pères.



"Pâques des renouveaux" (Spring 2003)
 
Pâques des renouveaux
le vrai printemps
qui n'est ni  caché ni écrasé
par les hivers
un espoir pour le genre de paix
qui résidera dans tout coeur humain
effaçant nos inclinations
vers la haine
vers la violence
vers la convoitise
vers le refus du pardon
et toute autre
qui nous sépare les uns des autres.



"Mon pays" (December 1992)

Mon pays,
c'est ma folie des ordinateurs,
cybersilence,
humanisé
par des voix écrites.
Mon clavier,
dont on peut voir les do-ré-mi d'une musique oculaire,
avale les nuits blanches des écrans.



"Heureux qui..." (1998)

Heureux qui soit professeur
et non pas administrateur
ces types-ci sont toujours cons
et ce qu'ils font n'est jamais bon
moi, je préfère un sort sanglant
à tous les postes dans leurs rangs.



"White Stone summer of 1993" (TBob)

O Sun
exiled from gala nights
lamp of Chronos
chaos of oven days
you preside over mocking tides
thick with the slowness of our oars
and you consume your own light
with a heat that evaporates our dreams
and rots our hopes
like so many corpses
hidden in the pockets of the the giant.


"White Stone l'été de 1993" (TBob)

Soleil
exilé des nuits de gala
lampe de Chronos
néant des jours fours
tu présides des marées moqueuses
épaisses de la lenteur de nos rames
et tu consumes ta propre lumière
d'une chaleur qui évapore nos rêves
et qui fait pourrir nos espoirs
comme tant de morts
cachés dans les poches du géant.



"Tonal Shift"  (TBob, 1982)

contagious redbud laughter
spreads its springfires
of lavender derision
beneath gawking winterbare branches



"A Valentine poem for Vida" (TBob 1985)

Cupid struck me with his shaft,
And I who at Love's power have laughed,
To be his liege did yield my sword.
But he has not become my lord.
I love a lass who sees in me
All good things that I'm meant to be.
This sovereign of a million charms
Makes me a freeman in her arms.



"Vida's Song" (TBob, 1984)

Sing your may-spring melody
in the summer wind
let it float high and free
till it mingles and twines
with a lyric of leaves
then, make it your song for me.

So we'll have song when leaves do blush
in the autumn cold
and meadow grass turns brown
in the diamond-frost morning
we'll  find summer's delight
winter's silence filled with sound.



"Pour la Toussaint" (TBob, 1989)

east-facing autumn oak
morning-sun mural
medallion of the moribund
you too will be a trope
commemorating chlorophyll in the bland liturgy of painless death

scratching on concrete scores
    in drybones wind
        your toneless melody
            a tempo vario

then will the multitude of leaves sing your solemnities
in ever-gray drone sky of late November
'til all these fragile choirs embrace in ice chapels.



Rien de plus sexy qu'un bon ordinateur (c'est ordinaturel)
Ni de plus poétique que la technologie du bus optique
Ni de plus jolie que la pluie sur un sandwich
Ni de plus beau que le lavabo
Ni de plus chantable que notre chantefable

TennesseeBob (poète des cyclones, 1994)



for David Gatwood  (TBob, 1999)

agile flight of fingers on cloistered keyboard
delivering felt-hammered acoustic jazz
or delving into digital dilemmas
father of futures that soar beyond the poet's eye
to trivialize millennial thresholds



"Roadtrip"

Sing we a coffeesong
of dusty dashboards
and broken words
mother of mornings
with fog as the father of towns
and rear-view mirrors as burying grounds
for many a waning form

(TBob 2001)



Wall-Street RAPP-up (TBob, 2000)

Yo! pay attention now, Wall-Street Dan!
Ya know Greenspan
He da man
He gonna take a stand
Ya think you rad dad, e-trade stoker
Read the street sans broker? . . .
So meet da Fed
Ya dead
Ya gonna lose ya head



Maine summer (begun in 1962, revised in 2002)

So many steaming cups of Sunday
Breathless coastal Sundays
Those Sundays so careless
They forgot me
Trailing in front
As they drifted backwards
On sun-feathered sounds
The towns
All urgent and squawking a legion of  sea-gull squawks
Awakened form the dull sleep of hundred dogs at noon
And we
Walking on beaches
Paved with neglect
Ever startled by the stony answers
To all our questions
That broke like glass behind our backs
Yet...
Somehow
Milled in the promise of pure sand
The bald and pious piers
Stood like rows of melting licorice sticks
Growing beneath us
And baking their dark sweet hymns into our bare feet.



For my Mom, awaiting a trip back home to White Stone, VA (1992)


                        A house for dying
                    focus of reality
                locus of memory
            outside her shrinking ambulatory circle
        a house consigned to dreams, and. . .
    ah, those "some day" smiles
spray painted on the walls of misgiving
    from water you came . . .
        to water returning
            your spirit leaps to light second-story windows
                in that crepuscular edifice
                    crying
                        "ubi sunt qui post nos erunt?"



"Osama's Rapp Sheet" (TBob, December 2001)

Osama Ben Laden...Yo he ain't no man
He always hidin' wit the Taliban
Ya know he wake up inna mornin' wash his face in a pan
Yah, he trip on his beard, an' he fall in the sand
Ewa, he hang wit a gang they call al Qaeda
Ya know they hate ta see us livin' la dolce vita
So now they tellin' us that we can't put'em in jail
We gonna get the groundhog to deliver his mail ;-)



"Ode to Coffee"

Pour me a steaming cup of now
black soul of the sun
devouring fog banks
in its morning rage
liquid shadow
burning like daylight
within
melting idle ice
and shredding the torpor of lingering night.

May 27, 2002 TennesseeBob Peckham



"Home at last" (TBob 2003, song lyrics))

Home at last
after many years of wanderin'
I'll leave my sorrows out on the dusty road
No peace out there, always one step short o' victory
I've played the game
and I've been reapin' what I sowed
OH, rest is so sweet for these prodigal feet, comin'
Home at last
Lord, I'm layin' down my load.

My home town
out in the golden heartland
friends and family and Sundays in the park
those bitter days that found me on the highway
without my roots, now I'm fumblin' in the dark
OH, rest is so sweet for these prodigal feet, comin'
Home at last
Where love has left its mark.

Saying so long, now
to hard times in the city
my rear-view mirror is where they disappear
I've found new life just over the horizon
with loving hearts my memory holds so dear
OH, rest is so sweet for these prodigal feet, comin'
Home at last
I've nothing left to fear.



"Spring Thaw" (March 2002, song lyrics)

Can you tell me in truth you still love me
When our first dreams are vanished like the melting snow
New promise blooming down by the roadside
is calling out to you to pack and go

    Oh we both stood by each other through the bad times
    While the cold winds were blowin through the cracks in the wall
    Yet the seeds of change are planted in the garden
    And I'm wondring if you'll be here in the fall

Spent too many tearful nights to remember
When those glad vows of summer filled a steadfast heart
Their words are tried in the storms of our December
And scattered as the spring thaws  do us part

    Oh we both stood by each other through the bad times
    While the cold winds were blowin through the cracks in the wall
    Yet the seeds of change are planted in the garden
    And I'm wondring if you'll be here in the fall

You still listen to me talking 'bout tomorrow
But I see in your eyes a heart that's outward bound
And we'll be taking different roads that lead to sorrow
When the spring sun melts the snow that's on the ground

    Oh we both stood by each other through the bad times
    While the cold winds were blowin through the cracks in the wall
    Yet the seeds of change are planted in the garden
    And I'm wondring if you'll be here in the fall



"Partner of years" (TBob, August 2003, song lyrics)

When I first took your hand
In the cold of mid-winter
The music was playing in three quarter beat
We stepped out on the floor
And we waltzed through the springtime
At summer's sweet door we were still on our feet.

    In love abiding, our fond hearts are gliding
    We turn about the seasons
    and roll through our fears
    As melodies fade and the fiddler is paid
    I'm still dancing with my partner of years.

From that summer of vows
Through our decades of waltzing
We've been faithful partners for many a song
Though the dance floor may change
And hearts meet with sorrow
There's joy in our steps as the music plays on.

    In love abiding, our fond hearts are gliding
    We turn about the seasons
    and roll through our fears
    As melodies fade and the fiddler is paid
    I'm still dancing with my partner of years.

You're a May-spring of smilles
In a  field of bright flowers
A tapestry spun from the core of its art
The rhythm our feet carry into the morning
A promise that's always a child of the heart

    In love abiding, our fond hearts are gliding
    We turn about the seasons
    and roll through our fears
    As melodies fade and the fiddler is paid
    I'm still dancing with my partner of years.

When the last waltz shall end
In the frail halls of winter
With tears of remembrance in each parting glance
Though the weight of the world
Is slowing our footsteps
Our spirits still soaring go on with the dance.

    In love abiding, our fond hearts are gliding
    We turn about the seasons
    and roll through our fears
    As melodies fade and the fiddler is paid
    I'm still dancing with my partner of years.



"Tennessee River Song" (TBob, June 2004)

From ancient headwaters up high in the hills
of Virginia and North Caroline
Fed by the Hiawassee, the Clinch and Paint Rock
Where the Elk and the Flint and Sequatchie combine.

Oh the Tennessee River
she moves like a snake
through the land of the South's sons and daughters.
from  the French Broad and Holston
she winds through four states
till she reaches the Ohio's waters.

Now The Tennessee River banks in former days
Drew the Spanish and French to explore
The Cherokee, Creek, and the Chickasaw tribes
built their homes, and did live on her bountiful shore.

And the Tennessee River
she moves like a snake
through the land of the South's sons and daughters.
from  the French Broad and Holston
she winds through four states
till she reaches the Ohio's waters

From Paducah to Knoxville, before the canal
The riverfront teaming with curious souls
Awaiting high waters of a winter snow melt
Todd's steamboat, the Atlas, steered through Muscle Shoals

And the Tennessee River
she moves like a snake
through the land of the South's sons and daughters.
from  the French Broad and Holston
she winds through four states
till she reaches the Ohio's waters
She's a river of sorrows, a river of strife,
yet a source of our strength through the years
the exile, the battles, her nine mighty dams
oh,   they rend our sad hearts, or they bring on our cheers.

And the Tennessee River
she moves like a snake
through the land of the South's sons and daughters.
from  the French Broad and Holston
she winds through four states
till she reaches the Ohio's waters.



Answers to Melting Questions
Ubi sunt qui ante nos fuerunt?

   flowers now seen
                 full of
                 yearning
                 elation
                 sunlight
                 tenderness
                 eloquence
                 rossetti's invention
                 yore
                 enchantment
                 and
                 reincarnation


(TBob, 18/10/02)



(TBob 1967)

Grayly
the day kneels
in soft submission
to the hour of the folding of chairs.



"Day's Edge - A Narrative"

Gazing eastward
through the ambiguous promise of morning haze
to distant twilights in the mind's eye
where ashes of dead suns
are gathered in the faintly glowing urns of penumbral clouds
I feel their fleeting silence
rush through my ears
and veins
until it is swallowed in the boisterous noise
of daylight
and a flutter of Phoenix wings
pierces the veil of my reverie.

(TBob  3.23.02)



Walking home in late February (TBob 2.27.02)

a cold black wind sews shadows on the ground
while ice fires devour western ridges
gilding girders on river bridges
now the coward sun takes flight to Morningtown
and we are left
breathless brothers to fugitive clouds
freeze-dried and still
in the sepulchral silence of winter sky.



9/19/02 (TBob)

Gray cloud lace on pink daybreak sky
a breeze sings your fragile mysteries.



"Lingua albae" 

Sometimes
from dewy star-born silence
the sky murmurs a lighter shade of dark
before it decks itself in purple wreathes
of sun-spoken clouds.

9/30/02 (TBob)



"Unmown Field" (TBob, 06/30/03)

Unmown field,
full of morning,
whose scriptorium sky
is already graced with gentle cloudy glyphes,
and where green blades whisper
the day's impending heat
in dewless monotony,
punctuated only by spent dandelions,
and unnamable weedy buds.
All yield their muted glory
to the oven of day.



"Verba volant; Scripta manent"

Morning sun rays
cannot fathom the shallow footprints
of a small child
on the beach.
These are the spirit song of the wonderer
marked with regular rhythm.
Its lyrics
whose whispered strains have never found paper
disappear with each wave
neatly trimmed in a lace of foam.
Ah! but its melody escapes the proverb
and from far away
still lifts my soul.

TBob (8/2/03)



"Summerfall"

Oh the rosy golden haze
of late summer days
behold the toils of men
boiling in the zen
where anticipation and memory divide
where joy and pain collide
and wisdom wearies
as foolishness flourishes
still free from the harness and yoke
awaiting the final stroke
and mourning the loss
of sweet chaos

(9.4.03 TBob)



"Fado: Approaching Autumn"

With pensive steps I tread
cool shadowless paths
in cloud-muted sunrise
where memory of the joyful season has begun to fade
like flowers gone with the last hay mowing
or the vibrancy of now dull green leaves
clinging motionless to boughs
awaiting metamorphosis
into passionate fall-fire fountains.
The day's melody is sung in diminished chords
and each sad velvet note
held long
barely escapes death into dissonance.

(10.3.03 TBob)



"Mothermatrix"

Mothermatrix
chaos of cloudpaths and and vapor trails
jackstrawed
in sundown west
whose fading spillikin skyfires
paint distant windows
until a grey horizon spawns headlights
darting nervously eastward
like looters...
or relatives
from a dead man's house.

(TBob 10.16.03)



"Occidentals"

Boldly parallel clouds frame the horizon,
strange golden ripples as from a cosmic stone's plunge
into the waters of chaos.
Now the westward firepath
speaks
with borrowed pink
of winter-bare branches
espaliered against a darkening eastern sky
to vapor-trails shredding the heavens
in the name of Helios hidden
then
fading to silent black
until the daystar plays false phoenix to morning eyes.

(TBob 12.21.03)



"Springsign"

Trees measure and caress blue skies with fanned fingers
in greening grace
of Easter prime
whispering tales of coming warmth
that echo
in April's clear spring-born orb.

(TBob 4.9.04)



"Rainsong"

and if the the rain could sing the solemnities of our hearts
it would celebrate all that thirst for its touch
framing its liturgy
in tones wrought by roofs,
                leaves,
                    panes of glass
and in rhythms wrought by winds
that through the chords of its jumbled jubilates
we might find a harmony
dissipating our darkness with its joy.

(TBob) 4.10.04)



AH, SWEET SEVENTEEN! - merely thoughts, nearly haiku, by TennesseeBob



Feather-ruffle-wind
in may-spring field
dips and winds through bowing flowers

(TBob 1.5.04)



Sunlit storm clouds
like crooked smiles
can be both cheerful and ominous

(TBob 10.19.04)



Moon's eye
cocooned in the the blood of my shadow
emerge now in glory

(TBob 10.27.04)



In the poet's memory
the heart rebuilds
what can no more be seen

(TBob 10.26.04)




Le relativisme se déconstruit
quand il s'applique
de rigueur.

(TBob 10.22.04)




Ears of the heart find sweet silence
Inside the noisy shell
Of morning

(TBob 8.21.04)



All of my words
like timorous night-roosting birds
hover and scatter

(TBob 8.24.04)




Spanish moss,
tree hair on listless live oak
weighs the breeze with ghostly grace

(TBob 1.19.03)



Though the road may be long
You're never far
from the center of your soul

(9.2.03 TBob)



I am the night
caressing leaves and branches
with dark windy fingers

(TBob  2003)




Promises of weak men
sink like stones
in the waters of conviction

(TBob 2.11.04)



"High Coo"

Through Bill Gates
and Visual Basic
Defaults are now viral faucets

(TBob, 2000)



Gray cloud lace
on pink daybreak sky
a breeze sings your fragile mysteries

(TBob, 9/19/02)




Proverb

Spring fathers the fancy
while Autumn is the true
harvester of hearts

(TBob 2002)



Mon ombre
tunnel muët de mon âme
faux témoin de ma présence

(TBob 10/4/04)


"binary contrasts "

Shadows celebrate
the goodness of light,
hiding less than they reveal


Hard times deepen
the fullness of our joy
bestowing more than they steal

(TBob 6.26.04)



"'éclaircies' defined - on the art of translation"   (TBob 11.01.03)

but does my native notion come to me
as bookish weather wisdom
marching in columned cadence now
from lofty heights of Mount Lexique;
or does it speak to me
in soft sly smile
of sun-dappled high meadow,
in cloud-breaks over fallowed field
revealing work-scared years
in furrow shadows?



"Last Exam [Middlebury First-Year Spring]"

In stroly-poly green folly of dandelion dawn
in sullen slowness of May-warmed breeze
the idle rustle of leaves on trees
mocks the haste
of pens in panic
rushing heedless-headlong
through literary allusions
scratching out word-weary,
but giddy
conclusions...
Oh damn the quotation!
Check the punctuation!
No fear;
I'm outta here!

(TBob 5/15/04)



"Shadowmaker"

When daylight drains from sundown salmoned sky
into the thirsty sponge of western groves
my path absorbs its shadows...
or do they flee to hide from passers-by,
and timidly await
lamplight epiphanies?

(TBob 6.19.04)



"Mid summer dew-fog"

The velvet voice of mid summer dew-fog
mystical and milky rayfire
pouring from the vaulted splendor of trees
while my shadow caresses
silent green blades
from which will spring
sun-jewelled faces
in the fullness of morning.

(TBob 7.27.04)



Ploughshares of morning light
break through the crust of overcast sky
seeding the land with shadows
for a harvest of dreams.

(TBob  8.01.04)

Shadows melt and shrink from rain
only in lamplight
will you see the twain

(TBob  8.03.04)



"My shadow"

my shadow
glad vagabond of sunny days
mirror of mysteries
mute tunnel of my soul
celebration of the light I hide
you grow and shrink
shifting from one side
to another
then flee into darkness.

(TBob 9.5.04)



"Fickle muse"

Fickle muse
you are a song crafted
and sung from the heart
dissipating in the flight of hours
paperless orphan
dying in memory's feeble grasp.

(TBob 9.5.04)



"Politichien"

Chu vieux et nouveau
Froid et chaux
Chm'appelle... A U C U N   M E S S A G E
J'ai pas de courage
Chu politichien
J'abboie pour l' bien
La tête dans les nuages.

(TBob septembre 2004)



"Heading for the bottom of night"

Orageade sea on silhouetted groves and rooftops
daylight's dregs
in the cup of eternity
diluted into ever darkening penumbral blue.
Sounds of brass and drum
burst from lighted Thursday-night stadium.
They fly
roll
and echo
then fade like departing shadows
lured by the promise of night growing within me.
Now
my feet are my path
as they probe the reasons why I walk
in this,
the season of my soul.

(TBob 9.11.04)



"Shores and the Night Traveler"

Stars top invisible masts
from which hang clouds,
like amorphous sails unfurled,
awaiting  winds of light
from the mystic east.
As the captain sets a course for Alba,
souls shrink,
and dying night dissolves,
bequeathing a haloed horizon
to naissant day.
No,
the answer to the mystery
is not the light,
but it is in the traveler
who moves
and dreams
through the light,
to stand again
on the penumbral shore
of yet another voyage.

(TBob 9.21.04)



"from summer to fall"

summer to fall
my paths are swallowed by unyielding darkness
what was then warm silence
is now the cold and rhythmic crunch of leafy strides
as orbs of streetlights mimic
a late September moon
and still surrounded by familiar forms
I am suddenly wrapped
in the phantom
of a distant planet.

(TBob 9.29.04)



For Dear Life (TBob 10.15.04)

Let not this leaf fall from the tree,
though now its stubborn green may somewhat mottled be
with growing golden edges  in October's cold.
The vagrant winds will soon destroy its hold
on sun-drenched June, whose memory remains,
and life's sweet nectar throbbing in its veins.
Thus flung aloft and severed from it past,
it joins with brittle cousins now amassed
in bland entropic piles before us here,
awaiting snows returned from yesteryear.



"Shawneewalk" (TBob 10.24.04)

Hikers' tales
on rainy trails,
with boots that tramp
through storm-swollen streams,
laboring up and down the seams
of lofty limestone ridge,
mossy
and treacherous
timestone bridge
to Jackson Hollow's past,
as from the vast
dull
wet
brown carpet,
here and there,
a bright yellow leaf
cries out
to a hidden sun.



"A Fable of October Wealth" (TBob 10.30.04)

 The trees all laugh
and taunt the long-suffering ground,
languishing in the leisurely pace of summer.
From haughty heights
they bellow their branchy braggadiocio:
"Ground, dear trodden brother,
Consider your good fortune to be in our protective shadow.
This ceaseless season of sun is eternal
and will not yield to winter."
The ground, having taken the measure of day
proposes a wager:
"My friend's, good fortune I affirm,
but now your smile has come to term"
That night the frost gates burst,
and icy warriors gallop through the glen.
The trees must pay their bet in gold,
and then,
standing naked
in the cold,
they tremble in the light
of a traitor star.



(TBob early November 2004)

Blue patches shred
the cottonous gray heavens
overhead
drawing the eye
into the cavernous pit
of sunlit sky
Distant ray-falls,
like strings from cloudy kites
drag across a landscape
of wet gold
telling its tale
in the cold wind's song
of long lingering summer
now subdued.



"Rainy-day Life Lessons" (TBob 3/5/05)

Morning warning red sky
Kick me out outta bed, sigh
Puttin' on a work tie
Walkin' out the door.
Sun singeing cloud gray
Having trouble being day
Rainstorm'll have its way
Soak me to the core.

So Glory alleluyah!
Well, at least it's not Falluja!

Hey, Mama's in a bird cage
Papa got the dark rage
When ya gunna act your age?
You know I ain't a fool!
Brother's on a morgue slab
Sister got a meth lab
Uncle's down in rehab
And life is one strange school.



"Lonetree"  (TBob 12.5.04)

Lonetree,   
lamp 
lit by December dawn,
solitary giver of gold
into the frost-paled hands of morning,
your silhouette sisters,
stripped by raw November winds,
now stand
immobile
in skeletal splendor,
kindling so quickly consumed 
in the smokeless ice-fires
of crackling sunrise.



"Darkpath" (TBob 12.9.04)

Darkpath
with starkest strides,
my footsteps
mar the virginal face
of invisible clouds
drifting over imponderable ponds
where branchy hands
in murky mirrors
sign windsong cestinas
to the veiled eyes of night.



"Field of snow"  (TBob, 12.28,04)

Field of snow
where footprints come and go
up to the edge of sun-robed talcum sky
There I know
the false path from the true
the glitter from the glow
and there I see
a heart
clenched like fists of frozen rage
poured out as snow-melt
on my page
its easy flow
a coming of age
whose trickle tune
liquid cocoon
of freedom's song
wrapped in long-awaited words
is sung
no stranger
to the rhythm of my soul.



"Hyco Lake" (Summer 2004

Hyco Lake
I  raise my eyes from road-weary breath
on Pine Knoll summit.



"Looking at a Photo Album" (TBob 1.11.05)

I was there,
my heart wrapped around your laughter.
I was there,
walking,
sitting,
smiling,
standing
just out of range,
my voice forgotten in a corner of that room,
yet
leaping to the lips
of every stranger passing by.
I was there,
soul of the moment,
though absent from the image of an instant
peripheral geist,
for lack of wider lens.
I was the song sown in your ears,
the evolution
of a perfect smile
that cloned your countenance
upon this page.
I was there.



"Two-faced January" (TBob 1.1.05)

Two-faced January
pilfers daily
the darkness of Winter's night



Bill Zackhry's Party (TBob, 4.7.05)

Veiled in the dark of night
Our joyful fellowship
Lit up the whole house.



"The Road from Praise to Denial" (TBob, 3.20.05)

How do we pave the road
from praise to denial
where now our Savior rides in lowly pomp?
Behind a knowing smile,
the irony bites deep.
He sees beyond the branches strewn in joy,
To Galgatha,
the skull ,
where He, bruised, lashed and mocked,
will be Himself the beast of burden.
Misunderstood by those hurling hosannas,
His word will smash their idle of false hope,
and skirmish with their spiritual sloth.
Is it my face you see, Lord, on that road?
Or do I walk with You to kingdom's gate?



"Sans repos" (TBob 4.19.05)

The sun is slow to crest on eastern ridge
and bridsong lights
dawn candles
in the darkness of the heart.
With muted groans,
in slow regretful tones,
as sleepless night pours out into the streets,
and floods the very paths my feet would take,
these murky waters yield back mirrors of the soul,
helpless prisoners of my gaze
through dissipating haze
that hides,
and then reveals
the landscapes of my longing.



"For Monolingual Americans"  (TBob 5.5.05)

We are
the orphaned dust
of mythical Babylon
linguistic shards
in mad quixotic quest
of one whole jar
long ago dissipated
into trampled ground.
And we are found
to be of two minds
as we embrace the high hegemony
of single tongue.
Though "English first",
"English alone",
we claim by light of day,
at night our muddled paths take us another way.
Thus, in the very presence
of that proud eight-pointed star
we splinter now
by language
into neighborhoods and homes.

And when we see
we cannot speak our hearts
to neighbors near
and at large in the world
we curse their garbled noise
and prophesy assimilation
death by bland aculturation
praise and honor to the name
of our steam-roller god
the once hailed universal language
of business... as usual
...uh ...but fickle of late
as profits drift away
to those of single mind
who speak with several tongues
and see in fallen Babylon
more human condition
than historical event.



"Daybreak for optimists" (TBob 5.29.05)

Long shadows now disolve
on sunlit paths
while hope
dawn-spun in liberated hearts
gives sustenance to dreams
and birth to daily plans.



Your Smile" (TBob 5.30.05)

If could I see the world
from well inside your smile,
and be no longer bound
to pierce its mystery,
gladly would I embrace its joy,
its ironies,
its hidden pain
or treachery.
Perhaps then I could mock
my own weak countenance
and ridicule its dull transparency.
But I stand on the outside, looking in,
constrained by that conundrum
wrought in teeth and skin,
ever a prisoner
of that affable enigma
in your opaque grin.



"Morning skypaths" (TBob 5.31.05)

Morning skypaths now define
the blue space overhead,
but is their pattern ordered quite by chance?
Some there are
whose origins are vapor trails,
layed down by steely brids of prey
in swiftest flight;
while others,
only traveled by the eye
are sculpted in the day's prevailing winds.



"June-spring Sunrise" (TBob 6.13.05)

Through the vapor haze
of lofty late spring days,
I walk with wake-up  strides
past tender green
of dew-dappled lawns,
while
Sun shards,
like faceless morning bards,
strum the forgotten tunes
of ancient aubades,
and all the fair foliage sings
with the voices of hidden birds.

Now,
as thought dissolves
into engine noise
and pointless conversations,
no camera
can yield a snapshot,
no
recording
a sound bite
to save my fragile moment
from the corruption of growing day.


"Tender Dreams"    (TBob, 6.21.05: song lyrics)

Eastern clouds now bleeding day
Cannot hold the sun at bay
Flooding meadows with new light
Chasing down the mist of night.

    Tender dreams all slip away
    In my head all thoughts decay
    Holding fast to how I feel
    And running scared from what is real.

Friends all offer a helping hand
They will never understand.
Life passes by, but I'll abstain
Ain't got a thing out there to gain.
 
    Tender dreams all slip away
    In my head all thoughts decay
    Holding fast to how I feel
    And running scared from what is real.

Yeah, they're calling me, but I won't rise
No, I won't  put on morning eyes.
Gotta ticket on this all-night train
Gonna travel through the dark again.

    Tender dreams all slip away
    In my head all thoughts decay
    Holding fast to how I feel
    And running scared from what is real.

And if my train comes to a stop
Then out from its last car I'll pop.
You know I'll hitch a ride or I'll take a bus
Goin' back to the arms of Morpheus.

    Tender dreams all slip away
    In my head all thoughts decay
    Holding fast to how I feel
    And running scared from what is real.



"Daybreak for optimists" (TBob 5.29.05)

Long shadows now disolve
on sunlit paths,
while hope,
dawn-spun in liberated hearts,
gives sustenance to dreams
and birth to daily plans.



(TBob 8.10.05)

on this side of the wall
I call my "Self"
the "Other"is but theory.

l'AUTRE n'est que théorie
du c™té du mur
que j'appelle le MOI.




"Secret Sower" (TBob 6.12-8.16.05)

Winter-worn hayfield,
like rumpled burlap,
edged in June-spring's verdant shoots.

Behold a rhymeless chaos
of collapse and neglect,
where I detect
on certain days
the sweet stench of entropy.

But now
I see some random green,
sprung helter-skelter
from the even darkness of decay.

"Weeds,"
I say
"Nihil ad nihil;
disorder comes from disarray."

And so,
I walk accustomed paths
this week,
with hastened stride,
pushing aside disheveled thoughts,
with eyes downcast,
until at last,
on crest of hill,
my gaze turns back,
marking the flight path of some bird,
I stop
and see,
on that great stubbled square,
a secret sower's hand
in rows revealed;
the subtle ordered triumph of a no-till crop.

And with attention drawn
to beany brawn
concealed by leafy hands
with ever patient steps
I thread a hundred circles of the sun
watching
'til brittle foliage falls
as pods await
the day
when crop dust veils
a secret harvester



Nous ne sommes que la poussière
qui imprunte
de l'internet
une voix électronique;
et moi, étourdi et perdu,
qui ne suis qu'un clown clavieresque
un curseur clignotant dans l'espace
d'un vaste écran,
j'attends
la voix humaine
qui m'éveillerait.

(TBob  Wed 8/3/2005)



37th anniversary poem for Vida (TBob 8.16.05)

Loving wife
and fearless mom
your kids all think
that you're the bomb
we wish there were a better way
for us to celebrate this day
37's a special time
the date is now
the number's prime

Happy Anniversary


"Children of Promise" (TBob 2.11.06)

Where we wander
The nights we squander
The road to yonder
Our shoes filled with morning.

Regrets are hollow
Like pride we swallow
On paths we follow
Your  children of promise are gone.

    [CHORUS] And so, like dust we will fly
    brittle flowers in the cruel fire of noon
    or snowfall that's melted so soon
    We burn through our days like the dawn's early haze in the sun.

Straight and narrow
The tempter's arrow
We seek a marrow
Of truth at the core of

The songs they're singing
The bells they're ringing 
Ideas they're bringing
The well where the water is drawn. [CHORUS]

Clear the great hall
Sound the last call
Let the rain fall
On morning and  twilight. [with]

With colors flying
though times are trying
There's no denying
It's life that we seek in this place. [CHORUS]
 
We were your dreams
Fed in the same streams
Ah, but it all seems
To blur in this carrousel.

We share sorrow and
Hope for tomorrow as
Life we borrow
From promise beyond all our years.

    and though, like dust we may  fly
    know that as we're consumed by our days
    Death has no verse in our lays
    We move without fear through our valley of tears toward the sun.



(TBob May 6, 2006)

Like bodies in a morgue
memories differ
while sharing the same death.



Cold Mid-May morning (TBob 5/15/06)
 
A feint day-blaze
at the edge
of dull grey
overcast sky
whispers the hidden glory
of sun-flooded cloud-scapes
vaporous canyons
where golden rays hurtle and bend
through the heated passion of roiling white on blue
while
here
below
still-born morning
is extracted
from ambiguous
and muted shadows
gathered timidly
around
the dark
forms
of trees.



My beloved country (song lyrics,TBob, 6.10.06)

Oh my beloved country,
between two mighty oceans,
glad golden heartlands,
fed by a million streams.
They flow from the mountains,
headwaters in the sky.
Blessings on  America
where my hopes lie.

Our nation's spirit,
from hearts that cherished liberty
shoulder to shoulder,
they faced uncertain times,
and dared declare our freedom,
then framed its voice in law.
Blessings on  America
Mend her every flaw.

Our homeland's treasure
lies not in golden coffers
the mansions of her wealthy
or the dreams of her poor,
but in the tie that binds us,
all races, creeds and kin.
One brotherhood, America,
one heart within.



L'enfer de midi (TBob 8.8.06)

In febrile summerland,
feint shadows writhe and sizzle
on the torrid ground;
and there abound
the fly-morphed victims of an August heat,
those vague entropic forms,
whose borrowed life
is here and gone
like mist at noon,
or like the frenzied glory of straw fire.



To Vida, on our 38th wedding anniversary

38 years I have been yours, as you are mine
Not every one has been a draught of honeyed wine
Nor like the poet do I  thirst at fountain's edge
A cup of quiet joy instead my heart would pledge
And were my gravitas of beard a sheila's draw
And if they stood before me wrapped in smiles and awe
My loyal heart would know its place the whole day long
Locus Amoenus, where I leave my soul's true song.

(TBob 8.15.06)



"Chanson de Trois Vents"  (TBob 4/20/07)

Vent d'avril
Les samares d'érable
S'envolent dans les rêves du printemps

Vent des fleurs
La chaleur dissipe
Le souvenir des neiges d'antan

Mille bourgeons comme autant de soleils
Mille voix chantent et mon âme se réveille
Mille sentiers
Où je m'en vais
L'esprit ouvert à ce que j'y peux trouver

Vent de juin
Fait dorer les champs
En ber�ant la promesse des moissons

Vent d'été
Les journées de fournaise
Et les nuits de folle passion
 
Mille sourires dans la bonne compagnie
Et mille histoires partagées entr'amis
Mille tendresses
Mille redresses
Dans les chemins que mon coeur a choisis

Vent d'octobre
Le froid me revient
Un voleur qui nous prend la lumière

Vent du nord
Une bise cruelle
Sans remords, fait présage d'hiver

Mille couleurs dans le tableau des bois
Mille feuilles sèches qui se fendent sous nos pas
La nuit givrée
Cabane chauffée
J'attends ce que novembre m'apportera

Vent d'avril, vent des fleurs
Vent de juin, vent d'été
Vent d'octobre, vent du nord
Trois vives voix devant la mort.




Winterspring (TBob 4/13/07)

In April-spring
patterns
of winter resurrected
interlope
amid the tender blades
and newly blossomed groves
hibernal traitor's kiss
in garden green
where rugged rows of fields
sown with new ice
do now await a harvest of cold wind.



Suzanne Marie nous quitte (TBob 19/8/07)

In the still pale dawn of her absence
A roar of silence floods my heart.
Absorbed in empty hush,
All photos lie to me,
For she
Swift aura-graced dynamic soul,
Eludes the ken of focus ring and lens.
Snapshots
Are but abandoned points
In her trajectory.
And there,
Within the radius of her smile,
A camera flash
Is just another candle
Lit into the sun.




"A Glitch in Time..."  (4.18.08 TBob)

Our central clock is down,
and we are left to wonder now
with open cells,
uplifted wrists,
if time will soon become
a barrier between us,
where once it did unite our ways
and send us to our common tasks.
Digital Cronos,
ever the incorporeal
faceless god,
your children mourn
and hasten to restore
your vanished kingdom.



Carolina Beach Sunrise (TBob, 6/23/08)

At 6am
the cherry orb of coastal sun
bleeds through its envelope of clouds
and still distorted by its atmospheric veil
lingers
for one last embrace
with someone else's day
The westward fire path it strides
now bridges crests of waves
crossing wet sands
that bear the passing marks
of morning feet.
Beyond the roiling surf
all ocean depths around the ruddy star's epiphany
yield back contrasting
aquamarine.



"Down-and-out of gas" (TBob 6/27/08) - song lyrics

Out of gas on the freeway
Out of cash at the store
Out of work at the factory
don't have it my way any more

Out of time on my mortgage
Out on a limb; I know my fate
Guess I'll be thrown out in the cold
if I'm another payment late
   
    CHORUS:
    Hope it's not out of the question
    for help to come out of the blue
    some one to pull me out from under
    a helpful stranger coming though

Out of luck in my love life
Out of touch, out of the game
Out of my depth in conversations
and I just got myself to blame

All my clothes are out of fashion
Yes, you could say they're not new made
The colors all are out of season
My cuffs and trouser legs are frayed     CHORUS

Out of friends in this city
Out of favor with the crowd
Out of step with this new rhythm
and the music's way too loud

Out of beer in this longneck
Out of place in this bar
You know I really ought to move on
if I could only find my car.     CHORUS

Out of gas on the freeway...





7/4/08 (TBob)

4th of July!
Will rockets' red glare
reveal to us
what we have lost?



For Vida on our 40th Anniversary (TBob 8/16/08)

From days as warm as your sweet smile
To smiles that warm the winters of my heart
My years with you
Like ruddy gems from far Vatomandry
Are treasure both to waking hours and dreams
The lusty song whose length has taught me its refrain
The drink with dregs as sweet as its first drop
The well of friendship that will not run dry.



"I can see the springtime a-coming" (TBob 1/31/09)

CHORUS

    I can see the springtime a-coming
    Through the wind and the high-drifting snow.
    All the dark bitter days will be stories we tell
    When the warm southern breezes blow.

Thought I'd give my old friend a holler,
Then I saw him living on the street.
'Cause when the wind's chasing your last dollar,
All you got beneath you is your feet.

So many layoffs at the plants in the city;
Down on Main they're boarding up the stores.
Well, the Winter's on, and things don't look pretty
Ain't got a prayer while they're closing all those doors.

Some there are who buy meds, but go hungry
Paying rent, then surviving in the cold
Spend their time wrapped in grey ragged blankets
As their days of misery unfold

Oh my treasures from past years of splendor,
Now in hock or out in the repo yard;
These and more I would gladly surrender
For some comfort now that times are hard.



My heart is yours. For Vida on Valentines day (TBob 2/14/09)

I'd like to give you my heart
But first let me take it apart
Superior and inferior vena cavas
Right and left atriums
Left and right ventricles
Pulmonary veins and arteries
Pulmonary and triscuspid valves
Pulmonary vein and artery
Don't know much about anatomy
But I sorta
Wonder about the lonely aorta
The rest I can sort by pair
Flying solo just isn't fair
I give to you each part
Since it all has been yours from the start.




The road to  Columbus Belmont  (TBob 4/6/09)

Kentucky spring,
skald of ice sagas
weaving its tales
beyond our northern border
with bends, snaps, tares and roadside clutter.
Our wondered gaze is drawn
to stark affliction of twisted towers
but they are not any less trees for their brokenness
as awkward wounds will all be swallowed
In greening grace of supple summerscape.



A Symbol-Minded Rose for Citizen Vida (TBob 7/4/09)

Before you took a step
to pledge allegiance to our flag,
you were the cherished citizen of my heart.
Let this, the floral emblem of our land
with petals five,
like fingers on the hand that offers it to you,
be symbol of the love and liberty that blooms 
beneath star-spangled skies,
flooding each pause in pyrotechnic thunder
on this night in July
and far beyond.



Earth stood hard as iron (TBob 1.7.10)

What marked the season's joy,
and lighted,
sang our jubilation
blithely through front windows
in the somber solstice of the darkened streets,
today
was ushered out the door
and banished
to the curb,
as vacuum cleaners strained
to pull its memory from the floor.
But gaudeamus shall not flee away,
though earth stands hard as iron
while the snow in wind-spun flurries
brushes sealing strips and shingles on our roof,
or contemplates its transience
in the dim unyielding mirror of the pond.



"Free-range eggs for breakfast" (TBob 2.23.10)
                       With a smile for William Carlos Williams

A word is a poem made by a machine.
A machine is words taken from a poem.
So, is a poem a machine made out of words?
So much depends
on whether they float
when you put them in water.



(TBob, 5.21.10)

See
the stampede
of wind-saddle clouds
now shredding
the orb
of the
sun



"Rockin' in the ruins" (TBob 9.12.10)

Sitting in a grog fog
with lasers dancing
over
sanded cement
Hume's axe on causation
wordsmith's libation
our shredder's innovation
letting the skins of Aquinas
define us
and asking
Is there a doctor in the House?



"Faster than you think" (TBob 1.10.11)

brothers,
no more
are we
feu de paille
flash in the pan
like a Facebook fan
now fleetly fled
our breath no sooner given
than taken away
our dust
not risen
to the height
of  a low-riding breeze
so that our place
may only
seek
in vain
to know us.



"Portrait of the Artist as English Major"


Oh Viridis Montis, with your proud maple sap,
That was not a machine gun in it purest sense,
Nor did the skaldic song blithely spin "gangsta" rap.
From Colonel Weakley's yard where green pollen stands dense,
He joins the artist hoard at Alexander's hall.
In wordy garb, sketcher and model stand as one.
Then "English Major" answers yet another call,
So that from darkest night they may together guard
What paintbrushes have wrought, what verses pens have spun,
Creative legacy of students working hard,
The story of a nation, wrapped in one man's tale,
Or saga of sad conflict, where all nations fail.



A tribute to Ronald Charles Peckham on his first graduation day from college: May 14, 2011, by his Dad



"Apocalypse When?" (5/21/11)

While chomping down a bag of chips,
I spotted an apocalypse.
The end drew nearer, more and more.
Now was it six, or was it four?
Yah, that's in California time,
So, when we smelled the zombie slime,
Our friends did scream at all that gore,
And made a b-line for the door.
The web warning, the billboard sign,
Are henceforth pearls before the swine.
It's Camping's fault; for this he's liable.
Man, ditch the math, and read your Bible!



"Let's all kick ASCAP"  (TBob, 2/14/12)

CHORUS
Let's all kick ASCAP
Live music's really eatin' their gains
Let's all kick ASCAP
The lawers have "Free Bird" in chains
Voice without a licence on the coffeehouse floor
Stealin' from the rich, givin' freely to the poor
Attention music lover, gotta sing without a cover
Or they're gonna be mighty sore.

To all young guitarists when you're tryin' out your wings
It's jam on the bread, and not on the strings
ASCAP plant lurkin' out in the crowd
He's gonna get ugly, if you're livin' out loud - CHORUS

Scouts in the wilderness, a singin' up up a storm
Sittin' round the campfire, tryin to keep worm.
And it's "God Bless America", we're happy to be free
"No!" says the lawyer, 'cause you're not a licencee - CHORUS     

Paradise Temple is the new church in town
Lyrics on the screen, ain't a hymnal around
They stop Brother Johnson liftin' hands on high
Cause you can't praise the Lord without a CCLI - CHORUS

More apocalypse fun

Apocalypse Gangnam Style
 
It's December 21tst
now if the Mayans were right
we're in for rough times
you better hold on tight
we've zombies in the kitchen
mystic runes on the wall
a nasty fiscal cliff
you may be in for a fall
the Senkaku Islands
are a line in the sand
where Japanese and Chinese
will be taking a stand
our NRA says
better lock and load
watch "Death Wish" and "Red Dawn"
paint your faces with woad
we're going to arm all the teachers
the choir member too
if we take our guns outside
we'll catch a glimpse of Nibiru.
 
 
Now the fiscal cliff is over
And the debt ceiling looms
Better sprinkle holy water
As you're walking through the rooms
Dorner burned in a cabin
Ere the news cycle died
But we fear his doppelgŠnger
We don't want to get fried
With confidence fading
Our hearts on overload
It seems like we do better
When we're all in panic mode
So I'll pop the cork
And we'll both drink some wine
Before the zombies get us, won't you be my valentine?




Home (TBob 4/22/12)

To the child somewhere in me
the back yard of those younger days
will ever like a kingdom be.
But kingly crowns did slip and break like glass.
With every move, and every inch I grew,
that proud domain,
my home,
would simply disappear or shrink in size.
It soon became the walls
that hid my toil-worn face at end of day,
a day of battles waged to keep those very walls,
no match for earth, wind, fire, water,
now, one limping step ahead of payment due.
And if the home is truly where the heart is,
then, with aerobic fervor shall I hold my ground?
My heart, my work, the roof over my head say "no",
and all are bound for dusty days in repo yards.
But there,
beyond that dust,
a kingdom stands,
whose sure foundations in the God I serve
cradle my one true home, made by His hands.



"Dark lady" (TBob 6/17/13)
 
Apocalypse
kiss of death
crypt of passion
in her breath
moribund
her greetings fly
fade to black
in falling sky
yet in her face
there is no guile
no mocking words
no bitter smile
glib contradictions
glittering shroud
diamond gravel
die out loud
mysterious
foreboding waive
a thousand phantoms
in her grave
was this her gift
to set me free
a question mark
my gallows tree?
 

 
  "Only The Heart" (TBob 2/14/13)

Only the heart can say it right
words
formed in the mind
are a flickering candle lit
where there should be a galaxy
yet my faith in your friendship and love
a language acquired in the limitless space of our hearts
has transformed every corner of my universe
I love you, Vida



Twitterdawn (TBob 6/23/13)
 
Ten thousand tweets
and not a message read
with followers on walking paths
and porches.
Polyphonic chatter floods the ear
from perches
of feathered senders far and near.
No character cap
or cluttered SMS
no hashtag lapses
causing so much stress.
They miss the birdsong micro-blog
those wearing earphones
while they jog.



Sir Twinkalot (TBob 7/13/13)

Gotta have my Walmart Twinkie
Like a toddler craves his binky
I'll be sure to lift my pinkie
When I'm home to dine

Let not a cola touch my lips
I'm not eating potato chips
These soft ambrosia yellow strips
Deserve a first-class wine

The midnight hour, I'm crying "more"
With crisco oozing from my core
"I'll stop!", thus, in good faith I swore
But I cannot walk the line.
 



"Morningtown" (TBob 7/13/13)

Morningtown
Beneath light clouds
Curdled whipped and drawn
Where friends are old
Trees are young
And shadows listen
To the words of the wind




My Town in the Fog" (TBob 7/19/13)

My town in the fog's a bowl full of cereal
Lights and noise and melting material
Rich in fiber, far from etherial
And me without my spoon!




"Keep Fighting" (song lyrics TBob 7/20/13)

Them foreigners, we'll kick their butts
And desolate their soil
We'll burn their towns and kill their folk
Then haul away their oil.
Pro patria, pro patria
We stand with Rand's John Galt
We'll deal the flame, then dodge the blame
It's nobody's damn fault.

To the tune of "America the Beautiful"




The Corner's Tale" (TBob, 8/18/13)

Notre fille cadette, nous quitte.

From crowded silence in the prophet's voice
the present empty corner tells its tale
long before the pink farewell
before the transformation
of a Hogwarts dream
to public academe
I see the proud ceramic splendor of a Disney world
immobilized
in Cogsworth, Chip and Lumière.
These muted witnesses
to hidden dance
with pas-de-chat, demi-plié and balançoire
are overwhelmed
by aromatic waves
the clear sweet chatter
issued from cooling racks
chorus of cookie sheets and cupcake pans.
Their quest,
the child who cradles in her head
a thousand stories to be told.



"September Prophet" (TBob 9/1/13)

In the languishing green
of a late summer branch
the darkness of winter appears
speaking truth
in a slow and somber velvet voice
now the dry corn silk beckons the harvester's blade
as the long days compress
before fall fires take wing
where the tall trees undress
and the north wind will sting.



"Reason to fear" (TBob 9/4/13)

Trembling lips
demon fear
night that splinters in your ear

Holy water
waves so high
waterspouts that eat the sky

Mayhem springing
from the dark
cuts so deep and leaves its mark

Taunting, twisted,
bitter smile
Weaponized and oozing bile


"Snapchat and all that" (TBob 2013)

candy cane
mary jane
twinky left out in the rain

"Dead" crowd
live out loud
trusty like the Turin shroud

here now
gone somehow
Snapchat and all that

straw fire
funeral pyre
Walinda waliking on a wire

6 oz. coke
Seigfried's cloak
the fool who always goes for broke

here now
gone somehow
Snapchat  and all that

heavy chrome
Geodesic dome
Dust like  glory that was Rome

that photo of your opium den
should disappear from view, but when?
Just hold your breath and count to ten.

here now
gone somehow
Snapchat  and all that



"Octoberwalk" (TBob, Oct. 5, 2013)

Salmoned vessels floating in October morning sky
with sun-glint sails
they navigate the naissant day
shouting "festival"
but soon the brawny western front
hidden from those now unaware
will quarrel with their joy
they cannot hear the prophet on their screens
with dark predictions voiced by electromagnetic beams.


"My Path" (October 7, 2013)

Now, my feet are my path
as they ever probe
the reasons why I walk



OCTOBERFEST (TBob 10/20/13)

A month into Fall
Air turning before the leaves
Carolina beach
Water clings stubbornly to summer warmth
Waves sing the contentment of beach strollers
In a language only escaped prisoners can understand
Their song, dissolving into lyricless foam
As each stanza hits the sand
Two heedless golden retrievers body surf
To a descant of children's laughter
And in the back of my mind
Where I was serving my sentence
I hear the shrill voices of teachers and supervisors
Screaming about living up to an ever more distant achievement potential
"Some beach!", I sigh
Now the ocean is a mug of hoppy lager
The foam touches my lips
The song passes into my heart
And like magic, my orange jumpsuit dissolves into the buzz.



"7:31 Monday Morning" (TBob 10/21/13)

Rising tide
All the breakers roar and foam
As they call for the morning light
With hidden ropes
They are hauling up the sun
From the brothel where he spent the night
Until Helios
Still groggy
Lights a fire-path across the waves
From between the clouds
Oh the dead sailors laugh
In the house of Davie Jones
While the sea critters squirm
As they pass among the bones



"Lux hominum" (TBob 12/16/13)

The lamp spoke a simple truth to the night,
But the darkness shrugged its shoulders.
And pretended not to understand.
Years later,
The pen of shadows scribbled many pages about the lamp,
Sending those who inquired on long and gloomy quests,
Filling heads with wordy somber rules,
That few could possibly obey,
And none would dare discuss,
Claiming that a dark spirit was the ideal vessel for the light.



"December 21" (TBob 2013)

Solstice
Now the icy thief
Is in the house
Pilfering by daily swigs
The wine of dark domaine.



 "Workbot" (TBob 1/31/14)
http://webpages.charter.net/tbob/workbot1.mp3

Christmas in the rearview /Coffee from a drive-thru
Didn't know the year was new
For weeks on Gypsy Road

HDDTV / Pay with Bitcoin-Qt
Ayn Rand will set you free
Don't let your faith erode
   
CHORUS    Oh Resolution reboot
        Now, sell your soul, become a suit
        take no prisoners, grab the loot
        In Rock Star/Ninja mode [bis]

Talk about a nose bleed
Chasing down each new lead
Interpreting the data feed
We strive to break the code

Tech-savy cave man
Actionable game plan
Corner-office yes-man
You know you're not Tom Joad [CHORUS]

Impactful from the get-go
All your ducks are in a row
Never utters the word "no"
Soft skills that won't erode

Game changing five-alarm
Drama at the cubefarm
It's all their fault, just use your charm
They'll reap just what they sewed [CHORUS]

We're low on energy
Getting tired of Monster tea
Boss is into bio-hacking
Let's give it a try

Stacks of nootropics
Imbedded magnets in the mix
Can't say it's healthy living
That would be a lie [CHORUS]

Anointed manic, you must fledge
Dilberted and on the ledge
Your ideas are bleeding edge
Its time to lock and load

Stress puppy icon
Better get your game on
Alpha warrior, you don't yawn
So paint your flesh with woad [CHORUS]


No Title (TBob 2014)

The snow is on the mountain
neath the wings of long ago
and we thirst beside the fountain
when the memories all are slow



"Landing a date"(TBob 2014)

I'm waiting now at the lonely end
of hundreds of gray winter miles
where my lamp cannot pierce the solitude
that robs me of all your sweet smiles
Your promised return is a vapor trail
On a blue sky hidden from view
Meet me in St Louis
And our love will come shining through



"Non sequiturs 2" (2/11/14)

Sidewalk drawings on snap chat
Wiping my feet on a doormat
Hey, post-colonial belly fat
S'all about hip
Don't give me no lip

Ya might be a body-slamming hard-hat
Ya daddy was a cube-farm aristocrat
Ya say ya best friend is an ally cat
Derridean darling
Ya sing like a starling

Ya mama was a lycanthrope vampire
Hair got caught in the barb wire
Found her body during the ceasefire
Ya gramma got smooth skin
Like Vladimir Putin



"8 . . . Nostrodamus [stealth quatrain]" (3/13/14)

Ex-Harvard laxbros trade in the dark pool
Deep in dementia the old people drool
Lo, the red planet approaches the earth
Long live the flash boys, as chaos gives birth.



"Whan that Aprille" (TBob 4/13/14) - song lyrics
http://webpages.charter.net/tbob/aprille.mp3

The Gentle wind blows over         
A field of purple clover
An April of promise
The snows hid from view

The fearsome grin of ice gnomes
Imprisoned us in our homes
but now with gladsome hearts
We hail spring coming through

    Yet, hidden In the bright hues 
    of every lusty May-song
    are the fragile brown notes
    of November's death nell

    Deep within December's longing
    our hearts recall the summer
    and in the fire's glow now
    its story we tell
 
Oh the sounds of chains breaking
Life is our's for the taking
as we dance on the grave
of foul winter's adieu

Fishing line in the water
now the pond's great marauder
is held fast in his sleep
and a prisoner anew



"Days like grass" (TBob 6/4/14)

a cemetery of my days gone by
with tombstones for each conscious breath
drawn in my hours awake
lawns
as soft green platforms for lamenting throngs
And open graves
as portals on the dark abyss
through which now coffins pass
like ships into uncharted waters
and bold winds dissipate
a place where here and there a musty columbarium
pontificates
the empty struggle
between memory and dust



A FATHER'S DAY POEM "My Father's House" (TBob 6/13/14)

In my father's house there are many mansions
and even if the rooms are small
with walls that need a coat of paint
and move from town to town
it is a cradle of love
of rest
a hall of learning
a bastion for shelter and safety
a repository of inspiration and encouragement
of understanding
and when nothing else can heal,
it is those lips
that speak the soothing words of forgiveness
the trailhead now where I begin my journey
with hands that steady me when training wheels are gone
and arms that always welcome my return



"Undead in Your Head" (TBob 6/24/2014)

when I die, I'm gonna zombie up
open some Jack, and then I'll fill up my cup
gonna walk to the mall, before it rains
catch me some folks, so I can munch on their brains

we call 'em fast food, because they run away
but if they trip in their fear, we can eat 'em today
don't need no powder strike, or solar eclipse
you bought a full tank of gas for the apocalypse

I got a real techie bokor, who codes in the dark
He's good at mobile Makaya, never misses his mark
Don't tell me you're saved, or ask me who is John Galt
I'm as crazy as your cousin, gettin high on bath salt



The Great Ones (TBob 9/5/14)

Standing on the shoulders of giants
I often see
Where they have taken a wrong turn



For a church bazzar pantry mouse (TBob 11/5/14)

Fat Mouse
Broad brother
Chubby child
Rotund and roly-poly rodent
Weighty witness to Jehovah-jireh
God the provider
Lord of a million harvests
Who fed us in the wilderness
Reminding us we do not live
On bread alone
Our gRATitude for the life He gives
Will feed others made in His image.



"Memories" (TBob 11/28/14)

Memories are the photographs we hang
to fill dead spaces
on the wall
they are petitions from a past
borrowing voice from brief moments of light
speaking sweet folly
to an emptiness of heart.



SONG for an aging prof (TBob 1/1/15)

I can picture his tired old eyes
And his class is a tomb in disguise
His prefaces grow
Never stops quoting Poe
But he swears that his age makes him wise  bis [then repeat last 3 lines]

Typical for a man of his years
His bumbling brings us to tears
Though immersed in the fray
His asides take all day
As the real learning time disappears  bis [then repeat last 3 lines]


His lectern's a comedy stage
Takes forever just finding his page
Oh, he looks kind of weird
With his lunch on his beard
A bewildered and tattered old sage  bis [then repeat last 3 lines]



QUATRAIN - for those who write and draw unafraid (TBob 1/8/15)

Charlie, I cannot weaponize my pen
Though it can draw the gunfire dealing death
With no fear now, I pick it up again
To write and sketch the truth with my last breath



"It Jest Makes Sense" (TBob 1/22/15)

Dry pickle
A washa my shoes
Can't clean my dentures
A whistlin the blues

Can't be a royal
A stttin' on the throne
Fox News don't want me travelin'
In a "no-go zone"

Hey, why in the world is it "Je suis Charlie"?,
Everyone knows I ain't the Viet Cong
And if I draw a nasty picture of the prophet
I'm headin' for the door - you know I won't be here long,
Yeah I'm headin' for the door - you know I won't be here long

Dry pickle
A washa my shoes
Can't clean my dentures
A whistlin the blues

Can't be a royal
A stttin' on the throne
Fox News don't want me travelin'
In a "no-go zone"

My good neighbors, are probably cell mates
A wastin' their time, reading rags like Inspire   
O killing for God is their witness of manhood
Shootin' up the streets, just like your heart is on fire
Shootin' up the streets, just like your heart is on fire

Dry pickle
A washa my shoes
Can't clean my dentures
A whistlin the blues

Can't be a royal
A stttin' on the throne
Fox News don't want me travelin'
In a "no-go zone"

Shot that clip; we got plenty of bodies
Bleedin' on the sidwalk and fightin' for breath
Secular culture's the focus of evil
You'd like to spare the pain, but they're all courting death
Yeah, you'd like to spare the pain, but they're all courting death



"I'm fine @ 69" (TBob 2/10/15)

Tomorrow I'll be sixty-nine
I've scarce outlived my father
While one voice says "court healthy ways"
Another says "Don't bother"
My goal to reach that hundreth year
To some may sound quite boring
And they'll likely cart my flesh away
Just after I've stopped snoring.

Decades roll by like high-speed trains
And caution flags are flying
Say, you don't need that extra beer
T'will just speed up your dying
Hell, bottoms up, my cautious friend
And keep the liquor flowing
I'll drink my life down to the dregs
Ere death begins its crowing.

And lo, within that Limbo crowd
Awaiting a decision
To the good life I will raise my glass
And offer no revision
If then before the gates of pearl
Saint Peter's face looks cheerful
I'll enter like a lusty earl
And never more be fearful.



Stray Protéjé (2/12/15)

Your boy is on the cutting edge
His A-game's good, as you allege
But we think he'll jump off the ledge
The moment things go wrong

I know you're just too blind to see
Your yes-man cube-farm prodigy
Steeped in blue-sky mythology
Just will not sing our song

There's no synergistic integration
Best practices articulation
shovel-ready constipation
Do not ask me why   

He'll never disambiguate
He'll often miss a drop-dead-date
He needs to watch his bad burn rate
And raise the ROI


Ain't Much Changed (TBob 2/13/15) - song lyrics

[REFRAIN] Ain't much changed in our part of town
Time rolls on, and we're all beaten down

Misery struck in the house down the street
Dad's out of work and they cut off the heat
The harassment, the shame of those harsh midnight callers
Ain't nothing to eat when you don't have the dollars
Nothing to eat when you don't have the dollars [REFRAIN]

Bill and his lady got into a fight
Then his kids disappeared sometime in the night
But the sobbing we hear don't tell the whole tale
And we figure that somebody's headin' for jail
We figure that somebody's headin' for jail [REFRAIN]

My buddy got busted, when he done back to back
Cops came a callin, didn't give him much slack
Cuffed in a squad car they hauled him away
To whever they take you when you have feet of clay
whever they take you when you have feet of clay [REFRAIN]

Got a crazy old friend doing twenty to life
Another ran off on his children and wife
Still another is homeless; they called in her loan
And nobody knows what happened to Joan
Nobody knows what happened to Joan [REFRAIN]


POEM "Cold Logic" (TBob 2/19/15)

Milkshake
Icecream cake
Snowflake
Frozen lake
Arctic snake
Frostquake
It's no fake
I'm wide awake
For cryo sake
It's cold


LENTEN POEM - Give it up (TBob 2/21/15)

Sould I give up my drinking for Lent?
Forty days will not make a dent.
I'll miss all the cheer
That I have with my beer.
I just won't live dry, so, get bent!

Shall I halt my consumption of grog
With a preference for taking a jog?
I would much rather cope
With a colonoscope
Though you might see me walking my dog

Let me start with a bottle of Jack
Making sure that my friend's got my back
Since I have my DD
Devil's cut is for me
I will down all he joy I can hack

But booze is the way of all sin
And lips to the bottle are Satan's path in.
No pub crawls, you dope
It's a slippery slope
I know you'd do better
To sit down and mope

Yah! You hope!


SONG LYRICS Future Delayed: a lullaby  (TBob 3/7/15)

Sleep my baby
Lie still while your family stands watchfully by
Sleep my baby
A world full of cares cast aside

May slumber bring comfort and sweet dreams
And rest for the strength to live each new day
The God who watches o're you
    and keeps you from all harm
Has made you His heir ,
    while you lay in your mother's arms

Yawning, stiring,
A spark lighting hearts from your tender smile
Eyelids closing
Now the moment disolves into sleep for a while

May slumber bring comfort and sweet dreams
And rest for the strength to live each new day
The God who watches o're you
    and keeps you from all harm
Has made you His heir ,
    while you lay in your mother's arms

Nodding, blinking
We'll all watch the sunset in your sleepy eyes
Safe in dreamland
To wake with the birds in the bright morning skies

May slumber bring comfort and sweet dreams
And rest for the strength to live each new day
The God who watches o're you
    and keeps you from all harm
Has made you His heir ,
    while you lay in your mother's arms



Knock me senseless (TBob 3/4/15)

Crisp and cry
double dry
scar strangled
death bedangled
mud pie
don't ask me why

bully blood
bootstrap thud
tickle me tender
in a blender
its's a dud
too much crud

Ceasefire
trip wire
iron curtain
nothing's certain
flat tire
closing Sweet Briar



FORGETMENOT (TBob 3/8/15)

He is a faded bloom
a quiet tomb
of unknown doom
whose resident
was born quite dead
no one discussing what he said
they smile instead
and shed no tears
though he did live
for many years
hiding from us
all souvenirs
on closet shelves
or in an attic trunk
though never junk
memory
through time's good grace
the mindful odor
now
of what has taken place
does not exist
where recollected acts
biographical facts
do not persist
his name is found
on nobody's list
an unfilled blank
on printed form
who was he
I dunno





Green kiss of the sun (TBob 3/29/15)

While the morning sun's embrace
is cold
today its greening glance
is warmth
to eyes and heart
and as the breeze subsides
there is a spot
of sun-kissed open ground
where I have found
a heat I can't explain
march madness
it is not
though now
it is melodic
like warm voices
in the courts of heaven



SONG LYRICS "Emptiness" (TBob 3/31/15)

Emptiness
Walking in a wilderness where smiles are hidden from view

Loneliness
Traveling trhough a land of deception where no heart is true

REFRAIN
Wounds that friendship cannot heal
Pain a lover cannot feel
Dreams have fallen to the ground
Bitter memories all around


Happiness
A baloon that was stolen by the wind, you know it's a crime

Pointlessness
Taking that well-worn path to failure just one more time

REFRAIN
Wounds that friendship cannot heal
Pain a lover cannot feel
Dreams have fallen to the ground
Bitter memories all around

Carlessness
I trusted you with a heart never given away

Tearfulness
The flood tide is rising on the sorrow I'm feeling today

REFRAIN
Wounds that friendship cannot heal
Pain a lover cannot feel
Dreams have fallen to the ground
Bitter memories all around

Emptiness . . .


6. Saguenay des voyages (TBob, 4/14/15)

Saguenay
témoin du Lac Saint Jean
voix des Montagnais le long de ses belles rives

Saguenay
mère du divin fjord
c'est la belle vallée de la Rivière-Éternité

Touristes aventureux, ceux qui font du kayac
pour voir le jeu fou des bélugas à Tadoussac

Saguenay
royaume imaginaire
racconté par Donnacona dans l'oreille de Jacques Cartier

Saguenay
le son d'la chute Ouiatchouan
souvenirs des pulperies, et les silences de Val Jalbert

Quarante pays de notre monde sont réunis
ils viennent se former dans la ville de Chicoutimi

Saguenay
rivière aux affluents
la rivière Sainte-Marguerite, rivière Mistouk, rivière-à Mars

Saguenay
appelé "pays des géants"
ses falaises sont façonnées  dans le chemin d'anciens glaciers

Premières nations, et marchands franco-canadiens
Carrefour d'échanges, et foyer de nos citoyens

Saguenay
témoin du Lac Saint Jean


Song Lyrics, "Haslam's Nranana Picnic" (TBob 4/24/15)

If you go down to the park today
You're in for maximum shock
If you go down to the park today
You better be toting your Glock

For every second amendment nut
Will come with a pistol strapped on his butt
Because today
the governor signed open- carry

 [REFRAIN]
Open cary is our shield
The NRA has got the faithful buying guns today
All those libtards now must yield
to the voices of the SAF, and GOA
Along with 3D printed firearms
A legislative army only wealth can buy
Now they see our muscles flex, soon they'll be no background checks
And no more gun-free zones


You take your family down to the park
You tell your kids to behave
If they mess with an angry neighbor
You know it'll be a close shave

When Jeb's got his AR-47
Just promise the folks you'll meet'em heaven
Because today
the governor signed open- carry

[REFRAIN]
Open carry is our shield
The NRA has got the faithful buying guns today
All those libtards now must yield
to the voices of the SAF, and GOA
Along with 3D printed firearms
A legislative army only wealth can buy
Now they see our muscles flex, soon they'll be no background checks
And no more gun-free zones


They're scared whenever they watch"Death Wish"
They swear every scene's for real
When Kersey shoots a thug on a bike
All of these cowards squeal

They're packing big clips of  thrity-three
And when they fire, the villains will flee
Because today
the governor signed open- carry


"Bastrop bathos"  (TBob 5/7/15)

Jade Helm
Invade the realm
Patriots hangin' from a back-yard elm

Greg Abbott
In an old Wal-Mart
FEMA shelter death domes, ain't that smart?

Short fuse
DominionTed Cruz
Add the Texas State Guard, how can you loose

Don't laugh
You'll steal our thunder
Berets and Seals, we're gunna put you under


FEMA shelter domes
martial law


"I forget" (TBob 5/12/15)

Athazagoraphobia
your memory is fried
oh dear sweet girl, Zenobia
that means our love has died

Someone should send a nota to ya
and recommend green tea
eat chia seeds and cobia
to get omaga-3

quinoa with dark chocolate
an abundance of red wine
so recollection will be yours
and then you will be mine



Summerschoolnewz (TBob 5/20/15)

Our math class has a zombie teacher
Looks like your former screaming preacher
Could be just some evil creature
Searching for a meal

And oh, those sticky old blood stains
You know he's in here for our brains
Go whip him with your tire chains
And ask him "What's the deal?"


Hotel Walk-Away (TBob 5/27/15)

Got a room today
In Hotel Walk-Away
We have nothing more to say
Bible in the drawer
Bottle on the floor
Don't ask
But I've been drinking lonliness
From the big blue flask
hidden in my soul
Always open
Always full
Though I may run for the door
Go outside
And stand in a crowd
There's no living out loud
Reality hits hard   
No dancing in the courtyard
And the barkeep in me
Fills my cup of solitude
And when I turn around
I'm back inside
Watching my shadow collide
With the furniture


"Say no to repo"  (TBob 5/28/15)  song lyrics

Repo guy showed up today
and he wanted to take my truck
Well I didn't really know just what to say
Cause I was sure he was out of luck

You see, the family's got 5 vehicles
But all the bills are paid
Ain't no one drivin' an F150
So I told the man to go get laid.

We got identity thieves on keyboards
And they're phishing to hack your life
The feller lookin' through your gabage can
He ain't there to flirt with your wife

Those eyeballs over your shoulder
At the automatic teler machine
When she copys down your password
She can start living like a queen

So I'll scan all 3 of my credit reports
Pray for big FICO scores
don't want to lose my swagger
because it opens so many doors

If I get the name of that pick-up moocher
A person who shows no class
Got a glock in a pocket holster that says
I'm gonna repo his ass


"Nashville or Bust" song lyrics (TBob 6/11/15)

Well I done all the clubs in this county
Played in all the bars down town
Coffee house full of wanna be hipsters
Guess I hit every venue around

So its time to pack up and seek the promise
Busker's heaven at the end of my ride
I'll catch a lift when I behold out on the road a heart of gold
That's what it says in my hitchhiker's guide - [refrain]

[REFRAIN] - Ragged jeans, dusty shoes, and a faded old shirt
With an over-sized jacket that's all about dirt
Friend you're readin' me right, from my thumb to my guitar
Take me to Nashville,
Take me to Nashville,
Take me to Nashville, and I'll be a star

Pay my fees to the clerk in the city
Ask around makin' sure sure what's alowed
Find my spot down at 2nd and Broadway
Salt my case, and sing unplugged to the crowd

Won't be hangin' with celebs at the Opry
But there are stars we get to know every day
Mandolin Mike, Abby of Spoon, Free Dirt may sing a little tune
You know, it's real sidewalk opera they say - [refrain]

Now there are paths from the streets to recording
I'll sing at Tootsies and the Blue Bird Café
Up the charts and then I'm booked at the Ryman
With open doors to the great CMA

Look at the buskers who've made it before me
Doug Seegers, Jewell, and the Medecine Show
All I gotta do is sing, to make a name like B.B. King
The accolades are just beginning to flow - [refrain]


"Sign of Righteous Living" (TBob 6/16/15) song lyrics

Now I know where I'm goin' when I die
Be with my roudy friends, and I know why
Oh the Christians ride roughshod
At the Orange Church of God
They have banned us from the mansions in the sky

All the artists and musicians go to hell
Addicts, surfers and skateboarders, do tell!
Vegetarians, Fornicators
(Members love their meat and taters)
Occupiers, activists condemned as well

Oh I love my sinful life; i'll not revise
Even though my stubborn ways may not be wise
Lord, I'll drink my fill of Jack
With the devil on my back
And a tableau by Dégas before my eyes

Evil  music really prays upon my soul
And my band plays dark satanic rock and roll
Have you ever heard of "grind core"
It ain't nothing you can sign for
If you don't look like a fierce demonic troll

They say I'm ridin' on that blue wave straight to hell
Yes and rollin' on the sidewalk, as well
I can organize for pity
Even occupy my city
But my liberal intent is my death knell

When they turn their crazy myths into state law
Evangelicals of the base will be in awe
You can bake a cake for God
And be part of a death squad
If you square it with the good book, there's no flaw


PREZ TO THEE FAIR TRUMP (TBob August 2015-March 2016)

There stands unfettered Donald Trump
He didn't serve like Forrest Gump
Rich as hell, guess he's no chump
I still say he can kiss my rump

He had a word for John McCain
The Donald likes them free, or slain
Though enemy fire may down their plane
No prison should heroes restrain

Folks from el sud who cross the line
Trump says should pay more than a fine
Such foul illegals raised in brine
Just send them back; no one will pine

Fair Megyn, queen of the first debate
For Trump her eyes were full of hate
Clearly for her, not a good date
Shark week had pushed her out the gate

Those who read from the Koran
will not endorse the Donald's brand
the jerk who wears an orange tan
Has drawn a long line in the sand

Rock me Momma like a wagon wheel
They say he's master of the deal
He bids us in his temple kneel
Commander and chief? Common, get real

"You're fired" Donald, curb your tongue
When your jaws flap, it's all just dung
Ten billion bucks? your bell has rung.
Forbes says your net is four point one



"A Walk on Campus" (TBob 8/2/15)

Will someone still conscious
wake the Sunday-morning tree shadows on the quad?
Good God
the party crowd enshrined in festive slumber
lo they outnumber
the pensive scowls
laboring behind our bookish barricades
or set aglow
by passion of computer screens
but they will shrink
as thirsty tree roots drink in
noon-day sun


Invisible crowd (TBob 8/9/15)

Isolation
is a mirage
you are never
far from the CENTER of a crowd.


Mid-August Walk (TBob 8/13/15)

Leafy cloaks
on beany braun
talking to
tasseled-stalk giants
at the corner of my soul
when barely midway through my stroll
I see
corn and beans
and wonder
what it means
as they plan week-long scenes
with ferris wheels
funnel cakes
pulled barbecue
and music to remember
drone-filmed
in festival September


"Tribute in Magic Martin" (TBob, 9/6/15)s

In semi-darkness
the Seven-Bridges band
lauched into "Hotel California"
Lo,
the joyful crowd
stabbed
but they could not kill the beast
with plastic picnic knives
Thousands lifted cell phones
and millions of moments
flew like eagles
to the stars.


Carefree is a state of soul, nearly imprisoned by the dirt road and the carpe diem in the country-song genre, which pretends to sing its praises. But there are always barriers to keep us from carefree. In this poem, it is a simple four-letter word, which impedes with obligatory, often forced laughter, and moral indignation. Stepping beyond "fuck" is the key to getting into the poem, which is all about carefree, and paradise recovered.

Fuck-Tree Falls (TBob 9/21/15)

When days are long
we step beyond the dirt road in that country song
to Fuck-Tree Falls
where passion has no walls
and memories all are strong

The warm night sings
and the wise will never know just what the morning brings
to shape the day
where caution has no say
and sun-streamed freedom rings

Behold, the base
when we were young it was our favorite swimming place
with time to stay
our chores were far away
glad hours of simple grace

Lazy fishing hole
on its banks my line is dangling  from a short cane pole
waiting for a bite
with not a fish in sight
I'm on a roll

And when we're gone
listening from hillside markers in the early dawn
our hearts will soar
as rushing waters roar
oh, we'll walk beyond the dirt road when forever calls
at Fuck-Tree Falls.


 "Take a Walk through My Heart" (TBob, 2015)
http://webpages.charter.net/tbob/wtmyheart.mp3

From Long Beach to the Heartland
he came to earn his degree
he saw plowed fields full of row crops
far away from the sea

He didn't come here to live
had no reason to stay
and no cherished friendship
that would cause him to say [ref]

[REFRAIN 1]
Take a walk through my heart, girl
and you'll know the truth
it's the great hall of memories
started years before my youth

filled with the streets of my hometown
my buddies and kin
but there's a room full of empty
and that's how I've been [interlude]

They fell in love in the summer
years after he came
while working in a camp staff
now nothing's the same

Smoky Mountain September
on his knee with a ring
he heard a "yes" he'll remember
made him feel like a king [ref]

[REFRAIN 2]
Take a walk through my heart, girl
and you'll know the truth
it's the great hall of memories
started years before my youth

filled with the streets of my hometown
my buddies and kin
but there's a room full of empty
and that's how I've been [interlude]

With diplomas in their pockets
They could both ply their trade
Make a living in the sunlight
Share their love in the shade

So they worked out their plan
Bought a white house in town
Mailed out the invitations
And shopped for a gown [ref]

[REFRAIN 3]
Take a walk through my heart, girl
and you'll know the truth
it's the great hall of memories
started years before my youth

filled with the streets of my hometown
my buddies and kin
with a heart no longer empty
there's a new street within.


"It's Not What You Think" (TBob 10/7/15)

While others seek the day
I look for darkness
the voice of night is warm
and welcome to my ear
sunup
the first light streaming
through eastern windows
shadows dart,
then disappear
and yet
a green-eyed lump of gloom
watches me carefully
from her perch
on my bed
searching my face
for the animation
of a compassionate smile
but when the darkness disappears.
and becomes a spacetime region
in another galaxy
it draws the joy and laughter from my soul
so, the scene ends quietly
with a fade to white.


"Fall Back" (TBob, October 31, 2015)

Fall back
from candy dreams
behind that pumpkin-zombie grin
you'll have more time
to contemplate your sin
to walk with saints of old
of now
and how will you receive
unsaintly winter
at your door
who comes
a long-term guest without disguise
to put your summer heart
inside the darkness of its soul?


"Magic City" (TBob, 11/25/15)

Bar flies
bass notes and booze
float in the club fog
of Birmingham nights
name in lights
singing 'bout my sweet home
staring at my beer foam
and eatin' tomato pie.


"Epiphanous Wise Guys" (TBob 12/4/15)

Three wise persons
arrived in a Toyota truck
guided by Siri
each prophesying from Inspire
each with a build-a-bear gift
and seeking the Christ child
for reasons unknown
but their daesh-board
was an IED
so
we sent them back
singing "Raqqa my soul".


"Timewarp" (TBob, 12/8/15)

Eric
the neoteric
wizard of change
home on the range
tomorrow's Jurassic
smells just like a classic
that's so 2004
it all makes me snore
in my rearview mirror
the future will shrink
but he is a coward
who dares not to blink.


12/21 (TBob, 12/11/15)

December solstice
darkmas of dreary skies
voice of Apollo in lunar trajectory
voices of flight 103 over Lockerbie
fulcrum of light
trailhead in the journey
toward days that are bright
or the crest of a hill
rolling down to the gloom.


"OTNAC"  (TBob 1/6/16)

#Ezra
his opera
Le Testament de Villon
is
no
tweet
no
imagist
masterpiece
even in a
world backwards.


"Hiems venit" (TBob 1/19/16)

Repair seams on the pavement
look like they expand in colder weather
making our wheels dance
as the gray of wintered sky
sprouts a thousand light poles
but street lamps only shine
to frame the treachery of snowfall
muting sounds
and colors
and plans we have made.
icing over the passion of a hundred in the shade.


Matt Bevin and the Griswold Family Higher Ed (TBob, 2/3/16)

Hexa
GONE,
like the snows of yesteryear,
baked in the geographical prison
of the Grand Siècle,
cultural river of enlightened thought,
Proustian pastry,
running deep at the feet of Sartre,
and dissipating in the mind of Derrida.
Lost in Van Gogh's starry night,
or deep in the Francophone Sahel,
we no longer come to your banks
for Filets de Dorade
sur Lit d'Epinards
à la Sauce Moutarde.


"Vagabonage" (TBob 2/6/16)

vandweller
wanderlust
next town or bust
eternal search for new sky
no moss
no boss
coin toss at each fork in the road
determined and meticulous rolling stone
why can't you see
your prison cell?


70 this year (TBob 3/5/16)

70 this year
But what does it really mean?
Abellio's "Chokmah"?
Wisdom on the precipice of dementia?
In numerology, seeker of Truth times the whole of human knowledge
In the Bible, the number of Jacob's children
In reality now: all selfies will be ruin porn.
Ask Siri!
Your GPS has the directions toward death.


"JE SUIS CHARLIE" (TBob 3/12/16) - Here is my song celebrating the spirit of free expression we saw in Charlie Hebdo, so brutally attacked on January 11, 2015:

http://www.utm.edu/staff/bobp/french/charlie.mp3


Je déclare ma liberté
parler sans peur
chanter tout coeur

Et ma voix, comme une flamme
me conduit
à travers la nuit

REFRAIN
Le sang qui coule comme témoign
des martyrs de vérité
ceux qui arrivent de près, de loin
pour célébrer
pour célébrer
la Liberté.

Mon stylo contre l'épée
le vrai qui sort
de mon clavier

Et le mal, nu comme un ver
un monde en chaînes
victimes de haine

REFRAIN
Le sang qui coule comme témoin
des martyrs de vérité
ceux qui arrivent de près, de loin
pour célébrer
pour célébrer
la Liberté.

Et c'est à nous, la résistance
aux hypocrites
la vie en mythes

La phrase menteuse, cachée dans le coeur
n'est plus jamais
objet sacré

REFRAIN
Le sang qui coule comme témoin
des martyrs de vérité
ceux qui arrivent de près, de loin
pour célébrer
pour célébrer
la Liberté.


Dominion (TBob 3/16/16)

audio shadow
pre-verdant meadow
rain-soaked path
that dissolves into fog
ice frame on a campfire
life on a high wire
thought that grows
like a smile on a dog.


First walk (TBob 3/25/16)

A sunset walk in the new-spring
May warm once cheek
while it cools the other
lifting the soul
while devouring a wintered body
reflect the greening glory of lawns
that bore January's icy burdens
and February's mud face
voice the gleeful color
of blossoming branches
mocking the naked languor of neighbors
eclipse the trolling and bitter twitterfeed
for birdsong.


Springwalk 2016 (TBob 4/26/16)
 
Corn-stubble field,
telling the old October tale
of a harvester's path,
woven with samaras,
singing an April wind's folly
to the growing warmth
of the sun.


NOAA's Arc (TBob 4/26/16)

Green and blue splotches
cover the Northwestern counties.
The wind blows
as the red and yellow serpent
undulates through
just behind the fleet-footed
antediluvian Nephelim
and the frenzied first drops
of rain.


"Scary Primary" (TBob 5/4/16)

Puttin' Ted to bed
The hope of our nation
In suspended animation
Trump just made it over the hump
No Dominion in my opinion
And no arena for Fiorina
Don't snooze
U lose if you voted Cruz
Houston, we have a problem


"Let the weak be strong" (TBob 5/5/16) - song lyrics
http://www.utm.edu/staff/globeg/let.mp3

Let the weak be strong
Open doors to our neighbors
May the warfare cease now

Let our days be long
And may hearts full of kindness
brew the wine of peace

As we join in the throng
With those who grow weary of battle
Let our lips make song
And our passion for fighting decrease

Our skin is but a frame
Neither faith nor tongue
Will change the human inside us

We are not the same
But to have what we need
We will work side-by-side

As we join in the throng
With those who grow weary of battle
Let our lips make song
And our passion for fighting decrease

To build a promised land
Where bridges unite us
And no walls divide us

We must take a stand
On the mountain of Justice
In the city of Love

As we join in the throng
With those who grow weary of battle
Let our lips make song
And our passion for fighting decrease


Scriptural screwballs (TBob 6/3/16)

Dominion sharia
flies in sangria
awaiting His command
along the seven-mountains road

law-yoked Bible boys
screeching preacher, too much noise
can't find my car
you know, I think that it got towed


"Vida's Australian Trip" (TBob 6/6/16)

A mirror
and a drawer full of face
we're still on pace
for a flight to the future
of my past
Oz at last
cousin buzzin'
by the dozen
touching-down at Tullamarine
rellie thunder
stoked down under


"Beat the heat with no AC" (TBob 6/13/16)

Sweat forms under my arms
trickles down amply covered ribs
and pools at my beltline
but I'll be fine
fans are whispering
"Be cool, fool"
and the AC guy is here
No fear
time for another beer
nothing strange
just climate change


Summer Solstice 2016 (TBob 6/20/16)

Fulcrum of darkness
the shadow of Jericho
trumpets shall sound
for the strawberry moon
drawing night through a straw
from the cauldron of Morpheus
we can see icicles
steaming like June.


"Vetted in the Veepstakes" (TBob 7/3/16)

Vetted in the Veepstakes
what more can I ask
give me lists of lies to tell
and I'll do any task

Vetted in the Veepstakes
November's looking good
got my name, they'll spread my fame
beyond the neighborhood

Vetted in the Veepstakes
convention's up ahead
better net some delegates
or all of us are dead


Good guys with guns  (TBob  7/10/16) song lyrics

Good guys with guns
a hope of safety for the carefree concert crowd
with holstered glocks in local clubs, when they're not plowed
hair-trigger AR15s; bang!!! they say they're never cowed

Good guys with guns
a happy-ending myth the NRA is pushing hard
your smart friends all laugh and quack at this grand canard
nobody's dumb enough to sign on as your bodyguard

Good guys with guns
sure they're the first line of defense in terror's path
they outnumber all the bad guys, if you do the math
these super-heroes who'll prevent any bloodbath

Good guys with guns
see them strolling proudly open carry down the street
an active shooter opens fire nearby, now, ain't that sweet
they all run away in pooping fear, can't stand the heat

Good guys with guns
a proven hoax and joke, it sure as hell ain't what you need
armed terrorists, mean crooks and crazies they will not impede
these disappointing last responders flee and let you bleed


"Seventy-year-olds matter" (TBob 7/11/16)

No bookish wisdom framed in Koine Greek
we're not the Virgin Queen enthroned above
nor meters from target to archer's bow
the psalmist erred who capped our lives at three score ten
let him the periodic tables scan again
Ytterbium,
now bound for Unbinilium,
we are,
and in a platinum stage, we've all come far
where is the yesteryear of "Let It Snow . . ."?
or life's trailhead at  "Where Did Our Love Go?"
this really is our time
we'll have a ball
and shout "No Money"
to the bully in the hall.


"Don't leave me in summertime" (TBob, 8/4/16) song lyrics

Darling, don't leave me in summertime
where lips of flame burn the night away
you say your soul is thirsty for distant wine   
while lonesome empties my day

spring and fall
nowhere to be seen
winter is dead
in the silence of green

Oh the season's vow is a lying tongue
like a moment of peace in the city
or the dreams I followed when I was young
into a blazing sun without pity

spring and fall
nowhere to be seen
winter is dead
in the silence of green

Youth blows through these 93 days
like cheap wine on a Friday night
while age sees the gloom in that far-off haze
where we all must yield without a fight    

spring and fall
nowhere to be seen
winter is dead
in the silence of green

With my head bowed down in the ragged hours
until the tattered moon is gone
I come with a handful of faded flowers
as night dissolves now into dawn


Trip of the month (8/19/16)

Tomorrow's clouds will bring you back
but I fear you will have a knack
for leaving me
on the ground

Though miles no longer hide your face
your heart is cloaked inside the space
of walks
on distant roads

We carry mysteries through the door
unpack from luggage on the floor
forgotten tales
of hours spent

A week of jet lag's weariness
fatigue erodes our cheerfulness
the couch
no royal throne

You track the wings of iron birds
and I am robbed of breath and words
your boarding pass
on cell display

Like last time you'll travel far
I turn and head back in the car
to put flight status
on my screen


Vision of the End (TBob 8/31/16)

Apocalypse
issued from my right eye
window of the soul
raining fire
on a blurred and useless world
roaring retina
screaming insanities
at the Amsler grid
through the lens of new glasses
macular degeneration
curses the boomer nation


"Just Clowning Around" (9/1/16)

Clown apocalypse
bags of potato chips
guns roar from battleships
a darkness of soul

Clown apocalypse
smiles from painted lips
they're all shooting from the hips
and death is their goal

Zombies and robots have had their sway
nobody really fears them today
but creepy clowns infesting your woods
are next to invade your neighborhoods


"Messiah or Stranger" (TBob 11/4/16) song lyrics
http://webpages.charter.net/tbob/xmas3.mp3

From the start He was the light of the world
whom the darkness would not receive
Yet He gladly calls them children of God
All those who dare to believe [Refrain]

In the city of David not one bed
for the son of David named in prophesy
then, spurned by us, for us He bled
to teach us the grace of God [Refrain]

Isaiah foretold His Virgin birth
God with us in Immanuel
Galilee in Him would find its worth
and prepare the way of the Lord [Refrain]

REFRAIN
Oh the song of the angels
and the coming of the kings
our redemption in the life he gave
is what the Savior brings

New-born child in a manger
wrapped in rags against the cold
Now He's Messiah or stranger
with every story told


"Black Friday" (TBob 11/25/16) song lyrics
http://www.utm.edu/staff/globeg/blfriday.mp3

It's Black Friday
In the middle of Hallothankmas
You put the turkey away
You keep your family at bay

Hurry up kid, the store is closing
ain't got time for dozing

That's your smart phone
for GPS, shopping lists and coupon codes
so while you're living large
you better keep it charged

Hurry up kid, the store is closing
ain't got time for dozing

It's brick and Mortar
With big doorbuster and BOGO sales
Two-fer, bundle, and price-match
Lots of goodies to snatch

Say! Hurry up kid, the store is closing
ain't got time for dozing

And if you miss it
You got wifi for cyber Monday
set your browsers to Ebay
or Shoppify and say

Don't sweat it, the store ain't closing
You got time for dozing


"Ample Gold" (TBob 11/26/16)

Ample gold
a story told
sun spoken in the tops of trees
with eager listeners
hidden
in the morning's frost-fog


Lies (TBob 12/13/16)

The poet
should be
rex vero
in a post-truth era


Poem for December 21 (TBob 12/19/16)

the greater light now hugs the horizon
but it's candle
soon yields to night
I am wounded
but my soul stitch
is the midwinter promise
of sol invictus
a journey toward the light
made at the point
of darkmas


12/21 (TBob, 12/19/16)

the greater light
now hugs the broad horizon
but it's candle quickly yields to night
December solstice
darkmas of dreary skies
voice of Apollo in lunar trajectory
voices of flight 103 over Lockerbie
nox terrorem
sol invictus
fulcrum of light
trailhead in the journey
toward days that are bright
or the crest of a hill
rolling down to the gloom


"New Year in My Head" (TBob 1/1/17)

Well I left last year
in the bottom of a glass
to follow Eve's shadow
through the door
into the arms of cold December
still I don't remember
the ball coming down
or the cheers of revelers
all over town
or fireworks lighting the sky overhead
while I bled
I bled
my memories
onto a pillow
and called it
the new year


"Hunting for NEOs" (TBob, 1/13/17)

Hunting for NEOs
Who knows
what we will find
when we look up
through clustered points of light
where heavenly spirals wind
we try to catch the flight
of dots that go against the grain
It's insane
with no more dinosaurs to kill
the thrill
of un-fictioned apocalypse
a scream of death
upon our lips
like the taste
of slimy
gas-station sushi


DEAD RECONING (TBob 1/25/17)

We're 1.8 million strong
We put the Donald where he don't belong
Go do the count, you'll find it's no lie
You get your voter ID when you die
When we sing of resurrection
Our hearts are tuned to heaven's perfection
Not to Mr. Trump's election
Please don't ask me why


Chanson d'hiver (TBob 1/25/17)

Silence is winter's way
to fill a solitary heart
with song
dull cold
and skies of gray
two voices in the throng
a wind that makes no sound
before it rubs
against my ear
still softer than the surgeon's knife
horizon clouds are kindling
but the quiet fire
is not severe
and the feathered crescendo of bird flight
nearby
would hush a crowd
the eye-form cloud
is the fermata of peace
from which a vapor trail emerges
that can only suggest
the roar of turbine thrust
as it stretches for miles


(TBob 1/30/17)

Hey Pmurt
Your name is dirt
It's only backwards
Cause you're looking up some woman's skirt

I know, you're trying
To keep your word
But your EOs are all confusing
And the chaos is absurd

To keep "them" out
You'll build a wall
But you can't say how you'll fund it
It will be your downfall

Your AG, Yates
She's strict with law
Though it pleases not the fates
And that is her only flaw

Your flunky, Bannon
A real loose cannon
He'll run the NSC like Breitbart
Or the way he'd race a go-cart

Your boy, Spicer
A lying thug
So, we get you in the alley
And it's THEN we're gunna mug


Ice Dawn (TBob 2/4/17)

The blue-sky morning sun
springs through jackstrawed vapor trails
to cast a wrinkled path
of shattered mirrors
across the newly frozen pond


"Come Share Our Load"  (2/5/17)

We've passed the gilded dregs of day
as shadows run chasing the light
and dawn-spun hope is now dissolved
heading for the bottom of night
heading for the bottom of night

Our early start has faded fast
with smiles that wane deep in the crowd
the wolves of day have feasted well
and our dreams are there in the shroud
and our dreams are there in the shroud

O, you've seen us come
at battle's end
with wounds that bleed
for you my friend

You've walked with us
along the road
you've seen our tears
come share our load

No prophet's eye has seen our fate
no data cloud told us this tale
expert predictions all for naught
to know what lurked beneath the veil
to know what lurked beneath the veil

What cloaked the hatred in their words
What hid their darkness on that day
All those who came to sing their praise
Knew not the price they had to pay
Knew not the price they had to pay

Are we still safe to speak our minds
Do walls have ears and cameras now
We've heard their lies we've seen the signs
The truth is more than they'll allow
The truth is more than they'll allow

Our neighbors here from other lands
with darker skin with foreign name
all must explain their presence now
injustice some have called fair game
injustice some have called fair game


Then longen folk to go (TBob 2/17/17) song lyrics
http://www.utm.edu/staff/bobp/french/times.mp3

From the edge of winter lonely
with the eyes of promised spring
in the frozen rays of sunlight
shattered by each feathered wing

Reading from a tattered future
In the vault of memories
times of unrequited hunger
times of comfort, times that please

While we are standing on the pond side
where the winter rains have gone
we see the end of somber storm clouds
and our weary eyes are drawn

To ground, where we conjure springsign
and our hearts now find their peace
with tender green replacing ice walls
and the daffodil's release

Then the winds of change will warn us
that we walk a dated path
and if we do not exit quickly
we will surely feel their wrath

Ah, but my friend, we're called to goodness
and we'll take the narrow way
we can navigate the darkness
if they hold the wolves at bay

In our longing for a warm sun
as we shiver on the road
walking miles of chilly morning
traveling far from our abode

we free ourselves from winter prison
sing the warmth of travel's end
seeking the shrines of merry may-spring
for the battered hearts they mend


"Chrome-Hearted Wanderer" (TBob 7/28/17)

Chrome-hearted wanderer
well you've traveled so far
using ten quarts of oil
in what's left of your car

smoky darkness while the engine light
is your beacon 'til dawn
with no maps or GPS
to tell you what road you're on

REFRAIN
You'd be the flashing lights on the berm
as you wait for a tow
but when your finger hit the hazard switch
your battery said "no"

How bout the flat tire you bought in Tupelo
never recognized the brand
if you'd a typed the name in Google search
you might have found out it's banned

"The Machine's broke", but they get it done
with smiles that look grim
now you got tread spread and your bead toe's
pulling off from the rim

REFRAIN
You'd be the flashing lights on the berm
as you wait for a tow
but when your finger hit the hazard switch
your battery said "no"

You can hear the engine sputtering
and feel the loss of power
unexpected revs and surges
your vacation's gone sour

The radiator's turned bone dry
and the head gasket's blown
could have taken your friend Jimmy's car
but that bird has flown

REFRAIN
You'd be the flashing lights on the berm
as you wait for a tow
but when your finger hit the hazard switch
your battery said "no"



"Monday Sizzle Eclizzle" (TBob 8/23/17)

The sun sets all around me in the dark of day
crickets and katydids sing
in afternoon chorus
I stand
moon--blind in the meadow
or on a grassy knoll
reading from the prophet's scroll
head wrapped in ISO 12312-2s
I dare not look away
from the greater light
occulted in the heavens
by a stealth moon
While corona serpents chase shadow snakes
and crescents crawl on walks and walls



Beyond the country road" (TBob 9/23/17)

At the end of a country road
beginning of a sweet country song
cold beer and a tank-top honey
hey what could ever go wrong

never noticed those creepy cryptids
eatin' cows and horses in the field
or the red blood flying everywhere
as their thorny claws they wield

How 'bout those giant killer rabbits
snarling as they turn over my truck
this was supposed to be a magic night
but I guess I just ran out of luck

Extraterrestrials are flying above us
sucking all living things into  their ship
hope they got some space cakes in the kitchen
'cause I'm sure this will be a long trip



POEM 11/5/17 (11/2/17 TBob)

An hour back?
an hour ahead?
5th of November
time is dead
now darkness eats
the end of day
a frightened sun
will run away
with shadows melting
on my path
I'll not escape
cold  twilight's wrath.



"Waiting for Darkmas"  (TBob 11/26/17)

Each added minute
of night
stolen from day
brings us closer
to a moment of justice
in the fulcrum of light
but lo
the thief is never caught
who in his false repentance
turns his hand
and simply steals from darkness



"Cheating Death" (TBob 11/28/17)

While every saint has a past
But sinners will still be drinking
While the good saints breathe their last

I see no way around it
Though I work til I'm out of breath
The only rescue I can have
Is if I'm cheating death



"Don't want to die with cash in my pockets" (TBob, 12/15/17)

Worked all my days for what keeps me alive
ain't a bit of excitement that I won't test drive
been through hard times; somehow I survive
and you're still asking what makes me thrive [refr.]

Ain't gonna pennypinch for bad days to come
not sure about tomorrow, but I won't save a crumb
not gonna change; just can't play it dumb
I'll live it up while I'm here; so call me a bum [refr.]

Credit rating is down, Lord it's gone through the floor
was in the 800s, now it's 384
I want some wheels, but I can't borrow no more
if debt is a monster, I can sure hear it roar [refr.]

If you're like me, and your fortunes are down
Success is escaping, you feel like a clown
The waters are rising, you're scared you will drown
I won't let you falter, while I'm still around [refr.]

[REFRAIN]
Don't want to die with cash in my pockets
don't want them sayin' I could have had fun
Don't want to die with cash in my pockets
Won't stow my wallet until I am done



"Dust and Light" (TBob 12/17/17)

Show me the relationship between dust and light
When God created this world,
He saw beyond the stages of dust that we know
to a template
and a potential
either framed by or
buried within our humanity



"Night before Xmas" TBob 12/23/17)


Twas the night before Christmas
I woke up too soon
coyotes were howling
at a blood-demon moon

The children were screaming
in tormented dreams
all rosy tomorrows
were ripped at the seams

Wearing soft hoodie-footies
We'd both settled in
Net-Flicks binge watching
and a bottle of gin

It's a wonderful life
but you must be aware
Flick's tongue's on the flagpole
for a triple-dog dare

And on Christmas morning
what do you flout?
Red Ryder Air Rifle
you'll shoot your eye out

But why shoot your own eye
when you're home alone?
just aim for the burglars
and make them both groan

Then out on the snow
with a silence like death
bad Santa had loaded
and was running his meth

His sleigh was a coffin
pulled through the dark
by foul creatures stolen
from Jurassic Park

The Advent poet
stopped as he mused
now did he have rapture
and raptor confused?

So the night after Christmas
while we're all still drunk
and nobody's bothered
to pick up their junk

Dear Santa will come by
to rip the crowd off
for a New Year's concoction
we'll all pay to quaff


"Flu season 2017/18" (TBob 12/21/17)

H3N2
so you had your shot
but now you got the flu
only 10 percent effective
but no one says defective
Lord, the CDC
will never really come through
so many words are banned
they can't report to you


"Next step, Disneyland" (TBob 12/28/17)

Now,
in a hale of frozen tears
traveling back to the warmth of California years
her quest
not far from where I was born:
Anaheim
yes it's a frenzied start
but not a hollow promise
behind her Disney voice
a promenade of skills
that could well fill creative space
from first spark to billboarded production
awaits
a simple opportunity
and a thousand stories to be told


POEM "Winter is a lonely heart" (TBob 1/14/18)

Winter is a lonely heart
idled in white silence
icy rays from a frozen sun
simply show
what night has done
vague shadows
sketched on snowfall
are quiet
and submissive
only tracks from unseen visitors

SONG "Winter is a lonely heart" (TBob 1/16/18)

Winter is a lonely heart
idled in white silence
icy rays from a frozen sun
simply show what night has done
and that's become my song
that's become my song

REFRAIN
Straight from the day the frost path first appeared
morning light . . . on frigid trails

Winter's not a lover's voice
calling from the shadows
not a sigh that will turn your head
and not a book your mother read
to make you fall asleep
to make you fall asleep [refrain]

January's traitor theft
stealing day from darkness
can't disguise the arctic blast
you say these bitter times won't last
but we've been here so long
and I still think you're wrong [refrain]

February's solemn gray
death embracing treetops
those were the days the church bells rang
oh the silent songs we sang
they'll never change their tune
never change their tune [refrain]


24 and for more  (TBob 3/5/18)

We shout our joy
this princess hour
whose name is like a mountain flower

Age twenty-four
A time of mirth
she's come a long way since her birth

Today we know
she's twelve times two
and seen the San Diego Zoo

In Anaheim
with a dog named "Pix"
we celebrate her four times six

So now that she
is three times eight
she's opened wide the work force gate

Four and twenty
just a day
where each hour is a year, they say

And when your number's
twenty five
we'll still be glad that you're alive.


"Tillerson gone" (TBob 3/13/18)

You know Trump is smart
mental muscles he'll flex
but he hates diplomacy
so he got rid of Rex
going dead-beat broke
paying for stormy sex
now the deficit's up
and he's stopped writing checks


CAR FIELD POEM (TBob, 3/5/18)

Great Field of Car
They come from far
You bring us fame
Bright morning star

O Martin town
Can't bring us down
With Facebook glory
We wear the crown

Car field's a riddle
That makes us piddle
Let the music roll
Play on the fiddle

SONG "Martin's Mysterious White Car" (TBob 3/12/18)

the legend it rolled in like thunder
it's been our focus and our Facebook wonder
in videos and memes
root cause of our dreams
but now it's vanished, and somebody's plunder [ref]

It filled SD cards in our smartphones
car-mania photos did fly through time zones
instagramm and twitterfeed
Oh they spread at great speed
got imitators, but we have no real  clones [ref]

There's a cross where the axle was buried
and we wonder where white car's been ferried
with balloons shaped like stars
the talk of revelers in bars
and even those engaged to be married [ref]

[REFRAIN]
Oh Martin's white car, while it was out in the field
Many wild tales and selfies its presence did yield


ApocaLIPS  (TBob 4/7/18)

Wheels and angels in the sky
trumpet fanfares coming near
prophet's words won't tell me why
it's a good time for a beer


"A Season of Words" (TBob , 4/2/18)

The mind's eye fills
with images of the season
dynamic holograms
to basic 3Ds
then to photos
and two-dimensional sketches
distilled at last
into seed paths
formed with words
Others who trace our route
through the season
may walk away with fragments
of our vision
to be woven into mind's-eye images
after their own heart's fashion
and whose tone reflects
this human connection.


"In the event of death"  (4/11/18)

At age 72,
the next significant event
in my life
is death
or maybe an ant
crawling up a tree


POEM -"Mid-April Wind" (TBob 4/12/18)

Mid-April wind
is moody
it chases sunlight
until it splits the branch shadows
rips open and fragments
the pond surface
attaches itself to one side of leaves
to transmit binary signals into the heavens
and energizes bush shadows
scrubbing sunpaths on the lawn


"Moss Compass" (4/15/18)

They say the moss grows
on the north side of the tree
so, if from it
I would flee
i'm headed north
across the lawn
and if toward it
I am drawn
I'm headed south.
Relying blindly on word of mouth
trees can be my compass
but to what extent
I ask?
And in my navigation task
if I know nothing
beyond the name of my destination
it's not a true location
nor is the ground beneath my feet
without coordinates or street
and what of all the other means
I use to orient myself
body, mind or heart
are they also incomplete?


POEM TO CELEBRATE what's left of 4/20

Today is the date; it's the big 4/20
So roll it and smoke it, cause we got plenty
Say, what's that sticking out of your pocket
Joy to the world, it's an Antiguan Rocket
Sorry dude, if I misspoke
No man, really it's just a toke
Not like I was hiding a ruby
We should both celebrate, and light up a doobie
Wanna go to DQ for an ice-cream cone ...?
Nah, rather stay here, have a drag on the bone
Got it, friend; it's really that day.
Won't be happy 'til I puff on a "J".


Hibernal spring  (TBob 4/26/18)

Wind-spoken
wanderlust
squandered wages
joyful dust of futures predicting the past
rust of wisdom's fall
stepping beyond the hunter's call
into a wood of transparent trees
where we stood
with spring snow up to our knees


"When all you gotta do is die" (TBob 5/18/18)

Dress to kill
when all you gotta do is die
invent the thrill
of those who will be passers by
the body rots
beneath the glow of fashion's flair
the flesh and ignorant smile are foul
like many a scowl
that strolls unfathomed in the city square


Heart Cath (TBob 5/22/18)

Once in,
light travels tunneled throughways
towards a central hub
to determine what is blocking traffic,
only to discover a massive and nefarious force
clogging all that moves
like some demonic glue
and threatening to shut down the entire system


Talking from the heart  (TBob 6/11/18)


Cardiac rehab
better than a morgue slab
getting in a taxicab
leaving from death's door

cabbage 3, left knee
where they got the artery
surgeon pulled it out, you see
and didn't go for four

Operation's now trough
wheel him to the ICU
time to begin anew
recovery from the dregs

big restriction when he stands
not allowed to use his hands
the strength to rise, he understands
is only in his legs

Still he knows he's tempting fate
gonna have to lose some weight
smaller servings on his plate
just heart-healthy meals

Dash diet, take the vow
no salt or sugar now
no beef fat in your chow
with zero appeals

Wash cloths for wound care
liquid hand soap in his hair
shower time's a strict affair
no lotions, creams, or spray

Spirometer, he's breathing strange
80 degrees his upper range
When's  the next prescription change?
He takes 12 pills a day



There is more to come.  For poetry of the expression of my faith, see "Paths to Kingdom's Gate": http://www.utm.edu/staff/globeg/kingdomsgate.shtml

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