Looney Tunes

When you are a courier in Southern California
with Disney is one of your customers
you get blessed with a bounty curiosities,
from delivering a Mickey Mouse topiary bush
to a private corporate party,
or taking Minnie Mouse costume
over to the dry cleaners before the big parade.

All of those are colorful memories
recalled when having to riffle through receipts,
while forced to remember those moments of tourist dementia
like the time of making a drop on Hollywood Blvd,
when this ten year old kid with coke bottle glasses
from the state of Kansas ask if I knew the address to Elmer Fudd’s house?

Then blessed to make some special delivery
on the same street during Halloween,
seeing those aspiring unknown actors
dressed up as Charlie Chan and Betty Boop,
just to try in vain to get some publicity
by doing a scene from Shakespeare
in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater.

Oh later they were joined by other out of work pals,
getting desperate by appearing
as Daffy Duck, Road Runner and also Tweety Bird,
while passing around the vodka to somehow help their act.

Slurred words from Macbeth sure didn’t impress
when I was trying to deliver that payroll,
but I know they were totally gone
after Donald Duck showed up staggering across those famous footprints,
stopping before me and sucking on a cigar,
so totally out of it all he could say was, “What’s Up Doc?”

I’m glad I work in the office now,
though some calls aren’t much better,
but at least they never reek of cheap booze.

THE CLOUDS GLUED MY KNEES TOGETHER

Leaded skies pour super glue
over my naked knees,
locked in an unbreakable bond,
sapping my strength.

Unable to rise
from that easy chair
where my body feels free
of any lighting pain bites,
which always strike
when I dare to move
towards places my heart longs to see,
perhaps tomorrow’s sun
will evaporate the seal.

Oh I could be a king
or valiant knight
if this smothering gray
didn’t hold me slave,
mutating my muscles
into a sloth’s sluggish form.

Doomed to a watch
and never act,
sullen waves of molasses
keep me stuck
watching a television for exercise.

Memos

Drones drooling their drudgery
in listless lines of stagnant suns,
watching them clone their scribbles
and cringe from the stale abuse in clichés.

Brain exploding in a thousand images,
heart racing with a fiery dream,
while fingers taps a beat upon the desk
in a private Morse code of seething rage.

A moment of pure and piercing ire seizure
sweeps across the chest
when a Shakespearian megalomaniac embezzle
struts before your mound of papers and files,
dispensing his literary crud as brilliance,
subtly hinting for raves
over the dribble he calls genius.

Wading through the litany of worn out phrases
scrawled as uninspired inventive sayings
upon the memos that rule your day,
knowing not a single word will be insightful
or the least bit infected with originality.

Meanwhile your quill that pens its light
has no admirers among the self anointed authors
whole waltz in their delusions,
pandering their plagiarized philosophies
before your eyes and ears.

Nothing aches the heart more
for one with ink in the veins
than living in a print’s oblivion
while inept minds with no creative talent
are the best sellers of corporate correspondence,
who never once read your gems.

Miracles

Sandy smiling so serenely
in the sanguine kiss of her bliss,
PMS now a lofty flight
of stress free life,
cramps no longer her demon,
irritability turned to clouds,
thanks to miracle
from helium filled tampons.

THE LIGHT OF VOWS

A kiss sends sanguine streaks through the spirit,
slithering in seductive shivers in the heart,
head spins from the waves washing their intensity,
love glowing so incredibly hot
from the vow that brings ablaze to the inside.

Hope becomes an enchanted flame
thinking that one life by a single gesture of virtuous passions
should become a fortress,
sheltering your trust,
feeling so serene in the shade
of its swaying verbal incense.

Eyes swim the sincerity in surrender,
this pledge drapes as a quilt in peace
woven with ardent and zealous threads,
serving as the silk to dress one’s fears,
quietly adorned by the mesmerizing feel,
entranced in the way the fabric of fervor
have such an enduring sense of strength.

Dwelling under that magical caress
where there is only the dream,
the pure, unblemished veil of belief
how this garment sewn by another’s throbbing needle
will never break or fail,
regardless how hard it is stretched.

What ecstasy explodes from a fire
words ignite with their match of sincerity,
sad is the darkness that consumes with betrayal,
when that shield being held before the gaze
reflecting a guardian’s face,
turns to ashes of fabrication
and what seemed a steel in resolved
melts as ice cream on a summer day.

The mouth who forged its resolution
fades as a wisp of disillusionment
into your night ravaged by tears,
for a promise is only as true
as the heart that speaks it into being

Without Concrete

The bistro was my culinary chapel,
its sacred entrees the salvation
from the demons of salmonella and botulism.

Their menu my gourmet gospel,
how that ambrosia slid so succulently
down my worshipper’s throat
after swallowing those heavenly textures,
which had aroused and enticed with rapturous delight
while in my mouth’s salivating juices.

Suddenly one noon they were closed
in honor of ptomaine awareness day,
I felt lost, utterly panicked,
worried some villainous germs wound attack,
rendering me diseased and insane
should I dare to sample any other morsel
than the ones they said preserved my life.

Wandering in a daze
to a place without concrete,
finding a bush filled with berries
unable to resist my urge and devouring my fill,
but still fearing death would come,
closing my eyes to bid life farewell,
then so elated when the chef reaper didn’t visit.

Days came and my hunger for that fruit
drove me as a wild beast
back for another meal.

Walking past the bistro,
shocked to see that the health department
had closed it permanently.

But I didn’t feel any sadness
for my burgeoning pioneer soul
as I chanted joy over my new hope,
oh sweet liberty of forbidden flavors
that my phobia pallet had feared to taste.

Nothing

Murmurs in the mirror,
tomorrow has feathers fluttering in your head,
revealing exit signs to heaven
as the world spins in the brain,
because was you know or trust never remains the same
and sanity ends up borrowed at the drug store
where they sell packaged dreams.

Ghosts own every door in your life,
they rattle them with moans bring cold sweats
though only you can hear their sounds,
while assassins with faces you know
dance on the bed sheets,
they never need to sleep.

Sliding under the covers
in the middle of the day,
borrowing a brain from cartoons,
wishing all the monsters that hid in the shower
would just vanish or slip away.

Strapping your hopes to an oxygen tank
filled with fantasies,
the brain explodes from inhaling the air
only you can breathe.

Justice is the Long Ranger
who works as a security guard in your closet
he and Tonto play hearts to see
who will control your thoughts.

Ramblings of emptiness muttered as prayers,
spoken to the Lord who holds your peace,
the one you pray to every day to slay the terror
sensed lurking in every corner.

Faith is the one tangible
that in the midst of fret’s phantoms
offers refuge from the holes of nothing
in which the soul falls.

Metamorphosis

Slaying tigers in my dreams,
boasting trophies yet to win,
visiting a jungle left scars, giving tongue a brain.

Maturity

THE FOREST

I saw a forest
protruding through a morning’s fog,
the tops rising as isles on an alabaster sea,
obsessed to learn their every detail,
of limb and bark and roots,
until I could fathom their presence,
understand what that white sheet kept secret.

Oh I groped in that blindness,
diligently discovering every hidden facet,
exhausted, lying down on the ground,
when my nostrils caught the scent of pine
and suddenly I realized
what kind of tree I had touched.

You Are As Young As You Stink

There is never any reason to really fear
when age spots and wrinkles appear,
for age depends on what you think
and you are as young as you stink.

Because getting older brings those pains,
tolerating scent of Ben Gay with its stains,
the stench of moldy foods in the ice box
that your crappy vision thought was socks.

Then there is the odor from breaking wind
you couldn’t control that does so offend,
getting worse as the body begins to sag
aroma of your gas so bad some want to gag.

But there is no reason to let it cause stress
when you can fake a youth’s vigorous vest,
for the right cologne will take care of the rest,
squirming from farts to be, yet smelling your best.

So senior doesn’t have to be a time of putrid revelry
though bowels are shot and you always need to pee,
with that special fragrance, youth you can have eternally,
getting creative enough that urine whiffs smell like a tree!

Do It Yourself

I strolled the home improvement store’s aisle
pursuing the boundless supplies in furniture kits,
convinced I could save a fortune on furnishings
by buying a few choice self assembly options.

Confidence flowed in streams of potent expectations
for I had watched those do it yourself shows on TV,
they made this chore seemed so easy to complete,
a few minutes of labor would bring a perfect creation.

Making my choice by the picture on the box’s outside,
in prudent restraint I elected to get only one to begin,
my mind ablaze with images from my home’s living room
where some future date would find so many completed items.

What boast I knew I could share in sheer prideful ecstasy
unto to every visitor blessed to inspect the fruit of my hands,
knowing they would crown me the self construction king
once my visions of success became a visible reality.

Opening the box and shaking with such intense anticipation
slowly removing that small booklet of simple instructions,
they made me dizzy from when I couldn’t match their images
with any of the parts I frantically checked within the box.

This masterpiece that I gave up on and didn’t build
lies in its container upon a shelf inside my garage,
it is underneath the pile of self help magazines never read,
next to the model ships remaining in their cardboard sheaths.

Someday I’m sure that I’ll actually finish all of them,
just have to find those fingers that walk past a thought
to a place where I touch some dream for more than a whim
and get beyond being high talking about what I’m going to do.

CRUSOE SCREAMS

Shipwrecked stratagems
stranded on a concrete isle,
languishing in a cubicle hut
where Friday is the maniacal lord
over your survival
and constantly treats you as Gilligan.

Staring towards
that shore of tomorrows
whose sands changed
from the storms.

Watching for the ship,
which never arrives,
while the sun sets on your future
with Crusoe screams.

Doing The Twist

What happened to my body’s sixties
even the seventies were cool,
could swerve those hips
to the Beach Boys,
and all those great
real Rock and Roll bands?
Ah, disco dancing was so hot,
grooving to the tunes in platform shoes
with those bell bottom pants.

No way I’m going to a club these days,
heavy metal for me
is like hitting yourself in the head with a cymbal
then babbling like it makes sense,
do these guy ever stop warming up
and actually play sounds that I can understand?

Now days eight pm is late,
can’t stomach booze and too tired
for late night carousing,
moving to the oldies
takes place at gym
during their aerobics classes,
run by some sweat Nazi
who wasn’t even born
until after the seventies.

Only thing that twists today
is my spine,
as for disco
I’ve shorten it to disc
for the one in my vertebrate,
which slipped during one session.

Going home and collapsing in easy chair
stuffing down the Tylenol,
shifting from side to side
the most strutting I can muster,
at least I can continue listening to the songs
wiggle my toes and pretend
it is still 1981!

SLEEPY

Ever feel like you need to sleep and can’t? Yep, those times you just are down right exhausted and can’t get any rest.

And the more you try the less help you get. Because somebody decides you are needed to give them help.

It s like this curse. You just send out these vibes and nobody seems to care you are tired. They want something.

Now that is the part where I figure out a nod strategy. Yep that is what I call it. A time I get to snooze.

But I refuse to let these people win. I am not going to allow them to take charge of my nap times.

Course this is all something where you do the best to create the illusion that you are very busy. Yes, that is most critical.

Now the best way to do this is to move no to more product excuses. Don’t use the same ones they have heard before.

Really that can be such a pain. And then you have to also remember what you told the others.

Because if you don’t you can be sure they will. And it is like this special challenge they take to perform.

Just make sure they ruin your night and make it miserable. So then they can be sure they are happy.

Well that is their view. Well not that they mention it. Nope you can be sure they won’t. They will pretend.

I’m not all that thrilled when that happens. Because you can be sure they will not broadcast their intentions.

This would be too obvious. So they just spend time to plot those nice interruptions, which can be tricky.

In order to avoid this you need special talents. I rely upon deception a lot. Yep, that is my favorite option.

My favorite preference is to take the time to have lots of reason for keeping my door closed. Yep that really helps.

Even works at times too.

ALL THE FUN

Sometimes I wish there was a way to wave a magic wand and turn life into a comedy. Yep, that would be great.

Just enough to be sure it was more entertaining than drama. I personally think this would be great.

But it does get very complicated. Too many just not willing to be clowns. Oh they like to make others into ones, just not themselves.

Personally, I think it would be great. Just more people wearing silly hats and acting so very goofy.

Alas I guess that just isn’t going to be the case. People are just not ready for such options I’m afraid.

Oh they do talk about it. Just aren’t prepared to actually take life to that level of reality. And I don’t imagine they will.

Seems odd to me on many levels. I mean we do love to watch those sitcoms. Like they are truth.

All I want is a little understanding here. Really, I just want this to be taken to a level that is honest.

Come on we could all use a good laugh. Nothing difficult just hopeful. A little chance to make it all have a smile.

Is that too much to ask? Not from my view. And you can be sure that I will continue to hope a little wisdom will occur.

I haven’t seen it so far. Not in my experience. So what I think is needed is some reasonable options.

Reasonable can be a rather strange word at times. I mean really so hard to truly appreciate.

It isn’t the choice I prefer. Because it is too time consuming. Just so hard to get enough cooperation.

I am going to be sure I continue to offer some alternatives. Ones that I hope will eventually get approved.

Or at least in some way end up being able to earn a few great smiles. Well sounds great. But then lies always can work miracles.

Introduction Lines

Woman To Man

She: “Are you an astronaut?”

He: “No.”

She: “Well if you come with me, I’ll take you to the moon.”

In the motel room, he found out she was from another planet,
for transvestites!

KITES

On a precipice
between stars and sol,
told you can’t fly,
having a tail from golden heart,
wrapping it around other’s lives,
until they see the sky
in your head.

My Unrequited Passions

I am the minion of oblivion,
in servitude to mental shadows,
abandon to fate’s cruelest pleasures,
left a faceless image
among those I have helped.

Do they show me mercy
over the ways they cause me pain?
Never is the whisper
my soul moans in dire lament.

Everyday they inject my body
with their small steel pins
then pound on my head
until the pain is unbearable,
just to make me regurgitate those objects
that it might bond their silly strips.

Yet have they no heart
over how it hurts so deeply
when they give more attention
unto that simpleton upstart, the paper clip,
lusting over his talent
as if he were truly capable of my permanent seal.

And then to abandon me after each faithful chore
so they can socialize
with that wretch brown nosing coffee maker.

So cruel it is to watch them drool over his juices,
even though they have no lasting quality,
utterly ignoring my steadfast gifts,
which never require any supplements in order to please.

Now perhaps has come my greatest humiliation
for I have heard rumors the new copier
has been empowered with my talent.

I can only pray my desperate plea
this latest insult
will not curse me to be buried alive in a drawer tomb.

SURPRISES

Chairs that move by themselves,
shadows on the wall
shaped like by bodies not there,
an icy chill felt in the air
during the middle of the summer’s day,
always feeling as if being watched
even when totally alone.

The normal loses its meaning
when you live next to a cemetery,
neighbors you can’t see
sobbing in the night,
and small balls of light bouncing through the air.

Don’t mind when they play in their yard,
but it gets unnerving
once they decide to visit.

For you can’t lock the door
to keep they out,
they always see a welcome mat,
coming in ways that you can’t predict,
surprises that occur,
which haunt your thoughts
every time the leaves in the tree rustle
though there is no wind.

CRIMINAL

My face was on their most wanted list
of some villain in the past,
a dreaded violation of their laws
only deserving to be punished.

No lawyer provided for my defense,
guilty and executed,
the sentence decreed
without saying a word.

Stuffing me in a box
they intended as a coffin,
not even told what I did wrong.

Silence is the hangman’s noose
for minds blinded by hate,
expecting me to suffer
and pay the price
over someone else’s wrongs.

Then there were the eyes,
who what anyone different
incarcerated outside their view
where their fear couldn’t stalk
as the form of someone
shaped in a way they saw as hideous.

What ugliness is the creature
controlling the heart,
ready to see my ways as capitol crimes
because they were odd or unique.

It is a dragon with fire
you only feel behind your back,
scorching in the deepest pain
because it never makes sense.

Insides they are howling with joy
from the agony inflicted
unable to hear your shrieks
in all their celebration.

WHAT IS IT?

I love when people drive you nuts with their idea of something new. They have this brilliant invention.

It doesn’t have to be an actual device. It might be some idea. Just something that to them will improve life.

Course they are so riveted by the idea they did something unique they have no idea that is isn’t really new. And they don’t listen either.

What happens is they get all impressed with themselves. Which ends up making them impossible to deal with.

And any attempt to make them listen is hopeless. It becomes totally pointless and boring. Which makes for less than laughs.

I guess I don’t really mind. As long as they don’t bother me with their inspiration. Just take it elsewhere.

I even have a department at city hall where I refer such people. Now I don’t bother to tell the department this.

That would spoil all the fun. And where is the joy in that? Not to me. I know I have found it by keeping quiet.

However you can’t expect the other person to always appreciate this fact. So naturally I have to attempt to not let them discover the facts.

Still I do enjoy when I can make this happen. Just have those times when I will make it all work out so very well.

Now the challenge here for me is to keep the person in that department from going insane. Otherwise we have too much turnover.

It is a difficult to manage any kind of balance at times. This much I will admit. And I have made a few mistakes at times.

But that is okay. I have found those times when an employee did crack to be a good learning experience.

Oh I hope it will always end with some plus benefits. True, it is hard at times to know for sure.

But then you know it is uplifting to know I have at times provided my employees with new and usual challenges. That way they don’t get bored.

Wish they always saw it that way. But sometimes the meds impact their thinking.

MELLOW YELLOW

He was my inspiration
always so calm in any crisis,
seemed so deep, profound and brilliant,
I hung on every word he said

One day he was speaking of the universe
leaving me in awe of his insight
when suddenly a taxi drove by,
which he asked who was driving the banana?

Later the cops arrested him for using and selling LSD,
that was the 70’s and I’ve never thought of bananas the same again.

BLOWING IN THE WIND

Pollution out of control,
air so dangerous to health,
no hope on the horizon,
so desperate scientist came up
with the perfect solution.

Forget the EPA and smog devices,
pointless to try and stop
all that industrial smoke
filling the skies.

Now the world breathes easier
each person having their own
nasal gas mask,
every ready to filter out what is harmful,
walking outdoors again a joy.

Thoughts given to everyone
changing names to Cyrano de Bergerac.
Elephants now the roll model
for plastic surgeons.

Life getting perfect
in its own odiferous way,
who needs dogs to check for drugs any longer
when anyone can smell them
ten miles from any airport?

PROFIT AND STAPLES

I’m always grateful that government isn’t concerned with profit. We can simply massage our expenses to meet our needs.

Now that is never satisfying to those in the private sector. They have to be concerned with actually producing things.

Then they have to also be worried sales. So that means they have to also come up with lies to convince others they are cool.

Which means having somebody on staff that can be creative and make it really believable. That is hard.

And then you have all that planning. Because you have to survive by making it work. But then that is business.

Now with government it is truly a blessing. We can staple those expense together. Now that is pure magic.

Just one little staple makes it all go away. No explanations or complaints. Merely the joy of stuffing it in a cabinet.

And this not to say that I don’t appreciate the problems of the business community. Just we need a more realistic approach here.

So the big way to cope with all of this is to bring some sanity to it. Which is to be sure everyone has the same understanding.

This means you have to take time to really appreciate who we need a new system. The whole profit approach just isn’t working.

Now my view is that we need a bribe system. I really think it would work so much better.

Yep. Just a chance to make it all more standardized. Now that would make it fair. Or more equal.

And who can be against equality? Not me. And I hope you won’t be either. This I think has such potential.

The plus would be the lack of taxes. Just all be subject to negotiation. A little dialogue would take care of it.

Even the cops could be involved. Fines for all crimes. Then we could eliminate the whole courts system.

Well just a thought.

AUTUMN IS A SEASON

Autumn is a season
within the human heart,
we can dream and dwell
in images of an endless summer,
but fall comes to everyone,
as a leaf
descending on time’s winds.

IN THE SILENCE

In the silence
during a noon’s sense of confidence,
minds dwell upon business, pleasures and things.

Suddenly, the planet vomits its traumatizing tremors,
hearts race as knees knock in trepidation,
streaks of fear’s lightning burn across the chest.

That calm and quiet at the outside café
where lunch was being savored
becomes a seat to watch the horror of nature’s holocaust.

Disbelief rips away the peace
when the picturesque portrait
turns into hell’s landscape.

Walls collapse from hearing
the piercing sound of window’s shattering,
shouts of terror drill the ears,
screeching brakes and car horns
are followed by the crushing clamor of cars colliding.

Panic seizes the muscles
before a child’s screams, “mother,”
streets become a ruinous wasteland of concrete rubble,
dust clogs the nostrils,
and the ground continues to shake in volatile waves
as if rocked by the hand of God.

Just when the tragedy of quivers
seems to last forever,
crippling the brain and paralyzing any tranquility,
it all stops as swiftly as it began.

In the aftermath of raped security,
wandering the devastation in stunned steps,
smoke rises from the mounds of bricks
where buildings once stood,
there comes the song of suffering,
sirens, sobs and the begging pleas of lives
who discovered bodies of their family
among the solemn mortared remnants of civilization.

LITTER

Diary’s pages
ripped from the heart,
tossed on the wind
to dry the tear stains.

But their memories
are a litter never discarded,
carrying yesterday’s headlines
of a love that spoiled.

Felt with stiletto stabs
every time
the echoes of those lips
blow across your mind.

STAY

Every once and a while we get somebody over at City Hall that claims they are quitting. This is always a sad element to this.

Because what inspires the person is a need to be told they should stay. Which I do even though I am tempted not to.

I mean there are plenty of times that some people would be ones I wouldn’t mind disappearing. Which is not good choice if it means you get somebody worse.

I wish that wasn’t the reality. But honestly with some I sure would prefer that. Just to now another clown would make things awful.

Oh I have to admit that there were times in the past I would have loved to give them a chance to depart. Just shut the door on them.

But then I found out life didn’t get better. Instead it got worse. Some new insane person got the job.

I think it is a sign that life in Mediocrity is declining. Well at least in terms of sanity. And that is not for the better.

There are probably lots of reasons for this. None that are hopeful in the least. They all suck.

Basically, I have come to appreciate that what happens in my city is that stupidity breeds more than intelligence. The sloth types always have kids.

None are in any way better than their parents. So you replace stupid with completely stupid.

This does not give me hope for the future. It makes me want to scream. And it is the pits because I can’t even recruit outside of the city.

Now that would be a blessing. But I don’t get that option. It would result in too many angry citizens.

And as long as they bother to vote then I’m stuck. I am grateful we don’t have to hire that often.

Which is made more complicated by the fact that eventually some retire. Then comes the lies to convince them no too.

They might be eighty and senile, but let me tell you I prefer that option to the getting some clown who can’t function.

All I have to do is figure a way to have them stuffed and it will be perfect.

NIRVANA

Paradise is the lair
of thunder
where the self portrait
is preserved.

Once you find
that masterpiece,
you only live
to put it on display,
finding bliss
from its showcase.

PONDS

Of waters still
and lily pads to rest,
what world the frog did know,
not asking much, but a few flies
for his meals and to croak as he pleased.

His language plain
a home unadorned of luxury,
yet when it came to visitors
he never turned them down.

So where others feared to tread
because of rumors about warts,
I found fellowship under the sky,
because at his pond
my words didn’t matter,
neither if I knew how to leap,
didn’t require a reason to explain
anything I did.

Just sat back and watched the clouds,
with my new friend,
ribbits I understood
without an interpreter,
saying what I felt,
nature shares a song
anyone can love,
as long as care more for its sound
than what someone else thinks.

DELAYED

Well anyone who enjoys this probably thinks dull is good. They would most likely be the type to enjoy cutting grass or other such mundane chores.

The point is delays might be a disaster to some, but not to others. Personally I never enjoy them.

Because they almost always happen when it is while I’m doing something important. Now I might be content if you were talking something such a city business.

That I could live with. However I’m speaking of the types of plans that I really need to take place on time.

Normally they involve money. Which I don’t care who you are, that is important. Even if you don’t have everyone act that way.

There is always the strange person out there. The one who actually can’t be bribed. Now talk about sick.

Fortunately they are not the majority. In a way I suppose that would be nice. It would simple in some ways.

I mean less greed would make it easier on us who were greedy. That would cut down on the competition.

However, that would also mean fewer people to bribe. So that too would create problems.

So it means you would have problems in cooperation. Too many people with morals. That is down right scary.

And you can be sure I do try to remain detached from such crazies. Yeah, that is down right disgusting.

Okay people talk about honesty. And it is a commendable to the point I will give it lip service.

No actual respect, but lip service will work. However, I will make it sound wonderful, even fake a tear.

But then afterwards I go back to sanity. Which means that you take time to remember that time counts.

And do the best you can to make it work for you. If somebody wants to spend the time being stupid fine.
That is the way I leave them while I am off keeping my routine and profit.