chatty laughter

the madness
gives an ear to
unreal conversation
you think me mad
but with you I laugh
all the way up from a giggle

oh, the happy times in my head
turn away if I disturb you
giveaway in a telling look
why not see him?

he's in his own mini world
yet he's alright

the journey seems to be
never ending awareness
but you, you've grown tired
at this time
no need to hear me laugh
reflection is better suited
lead me, leave me in the doorway
away from the humming man
my chatty laughter
turned upside down
into projected unexpected
humming, self absorbed
from the mini world
staring straight 
in the face
the condemned body


he keeps his money
a few dollars
inside a paper bag, in his front pocket
sanitary reasons
his teeth look nice
he is always with odor
no eyelets, on his shoes
no zipper
no back pocket, on jeans
no belt, because they have buckles
one never knows, what one can catch
from copper or brass
only a piece of string
twine, to hold up his disinfected jeans
‘mad sammy’ they call him
apparently, there’s no control
over the singing that he hears
inside his very private world
some may welcome the day
when they too can travel
to where the noise vanishes
from this land, long forsaken
by the creators and the wanderers
there is no easy entry
money, deejay and pants
remain optional


all about love

Do you love me?
show me hate, anguish and torture

Do you love me?
show me the other side
the side I understand so well
teach me jealousy, weakness and selfishness
honor me with misery

Do you love me?
tell me lies
take away my passion
take away the pleasure
Do you love me?
cast me out, not once
but too many times to count
shine the harsh light on me
judge me and belittle me
Do you love me?
in the moment, don’t think of me
ignore me and use me
constrain me, stifle me
Do you love me?
drench me with negativity
view freedom as confinement
pigeonhole me
Do you love me?
call me the enemy
hide in the darkness
blame me for the world’s unhappiness
Do you love me?
slaughter me and pray
for another to love


photography dreams

photography dreams, photography dreams
I'm having photography dreams
the rain is shooting down
huge frogs, three in all
big and green, call one gigantic
one is just plain tall
standing on benches, we're all on two legs
seems a little high and close to the edge
I'm stepping back
my coat is drenched in red
from berries stirred in a big pot
of iron and black
laughing animals, first one
on a surface of wet stone
curled up in laughter, then two
not from a zoo
but from the wild in outback zone
seems fitting, could be
finally looking down
someone small tugging at me
the circus has arrived
I want to get this photo
more little people coming closer I see
then comes the shout
if you want to take pictures, take them now
I forget the flash for I snap in a hurry
in order to compose
I find somewhere to rest and bypass the flurry
ushering me from my seat
some circus performers must be off their feet
I do have this photo of an insect with great hair
I notice a large lifeless moth, as I make my way clear
from the area, the journey continues
to a circus like ride, seems so hot and so fast
screaming boys dive in alongside plump chickens while they cluck
making their way through a maze like contraption, for cooking
maybe used to pluck, zipping right then left
with no chance of getting stuck
another parallel scene has come into being
a child wants his picture taken for a younger me
activity is all encircling, confusion sets in
another small child diverts all attention away
from the main event of someone fleeing
the chase is on, stop thief
the race across the subway tracks
shouting officer, officer give up an ear
there he goes, right over there
he grabbed my camera bag
it all happened so fast and like it began
the race has become the past
I run him down, no place to turn
for him there's nowhere to run
for me it's all wide open fields
and now I know what this all means
as I still have my photography dreams

if Jesus wore a suit

religion is a part of life
for some

for many close
to death and touching no one
reaching past the present
which is BC
what if Jesus wore a suit?
would he have been nailed to a cross?
gone up in a forest full of trees
would his followers have been less or more?
could sacrifice come to the man in a suit?
with BMW but still no shoes
still feeling the earth
ascending higher
for the memory of Jesus
is one of the street person
not a crier in the bunch
walking among the common people
leading to one truth
judging when being so close to being judged
prayer and worship
prop up the liars
for they are but a lie
they worship the suit
and walk their lonely streets
with a ready hot iron