De Fic ieN cY

The bird swings its tail in flight

The female in the devil’s circus!

How many knots does she fly?

How many knots in the rope?

How many knots in the tree?

Are knots presumptive?

Leaping in an aged RV, I’m caught in the

Every fading spring, of my rainbow dreams!

Do you eat in greasy spoons and swallow

Forks filled with lard, failing to recognize

Hardening of your arteries?

The bloody pipelines reflect the absurdity

Of its contents: are the contents

Ambitious or slovenly because

They are filled with little plumbers?

Of course, my research is unable to

Resemble what it is I wish to express, but

Who cares, if poet’s commas are

Deficient anyway?

WASTED

How can I exist if you trod on my non-reality?

If songs about

Reality, smash kelp in my ocean basin – then waves

Roaring and yet not,

Silently caress your scarlet lips.

Your sensual tidal motion, give

Shape to endearment and selfish intonations of

Peter Pan’s plight into

Adulthood, so do you wish to love now?

Please place your tongue

On my lips, and smile broadly.

If you linger on you will sink into the

Debris of my senseless, hate to love ratio.

It is a valid documentation,

Of that which is not what I am all about.

Are you a spider, yet?

I saw the moonbeams reflecting in my closet, they were

Evidential in proclaiming the feelings

About your gleaming body, that sat quietly in the web.

The revolving love story underneath the

Rubble of my feelings, of course, goes on for eternity or

At least the next two minutes and forty eight seconds, unless the

World falls apart.

A toast to all those who squander,

Youth, and the
Remaining years, of old age.

I feel the fullness

The Kite Master

Letting-out more

String than he has;

Pine needles sinking deeper,

Into patches of chocolate snow;

Sierra sunrise

Orange upon white,

The dollhouse in the window – dolls broken,

One thread left,

Old frayed shoelace,

Warm rain before dawn,

Encircling the absurdity,

Seeping into white noise,

Her milk flows into me

Unseen,

I fill the fullness.

The Youth in the Photo

I stared at the faded photo

It stared back with dark young eyes,

It was of him in his twenties,

Flying high,

Hair twisted like a mat like dark seaweed.

Shoulders broad tan strong,

His face still happy, searching not lined

Then.

He told me, I was shocked, but I had known not factually

In my mind,

Had known for years from behavior,

His eyes,

His face the brutal lines,

The sullen attitude,

He didn’t want me to come near,

I didn’t, he wouldn’t let me he knew.

Many years later,

When the strident music lost its rhythm, and

Only a single dull beat played a gaudy strident note,

It wasn’t even like music just loud just sound,

It screamed in my ears, as

Reality shrieked in my mind.

The stores disappeared, the marriage, and relationships.

Iraq was invaded; the Republicans were in charge,

Everything was going to hell his life too

Mine was cheerless because I knew.

He was hurting, shattering inside lost unhappy.

His life failed, his heart failed he wouldn’t tell me.

His life was disappearing into the shadows

His sad silent voice reached my being

I heard even knew without listening.

The world

Kept turning, soldiers continued dieing, pundits continued lying.

Hatred anger fear was rampant

Still the single beat played on

Like a raucous funeral pall

Everything was dark loud insane.

His life crumbled my world crumbled too.

I staggered through aging years he staggered through

Mind tearing episodes, of

Self-disgust.

We both sobbed in helpless silence.

Now There’s a Thought

We are nothing but pieces

Of meaningless matter

Rushing madly along

At a

Reckless tempo

Dragging

Unreality along.

We are slowly being

Pulled into a dull oblivion

By the blindness

Of our egos,

The expediency of our ignorance, and

Our unfettered desires,

We will eventually be swallowed

Into an infinite black emptiness, and

Turned into dull gray ashes,

Eventually to be recreated,

Into some large,

Black

Fetid bug.

Thank you so damn much, Kafka!

21st Century Logic

A causes B

A leaves

C comes in to solve B

Subsets of A hate C

C is now said to be the cause of B

Subsets of A reinstate A throw out C

A causes D

A leaves again

C comes in to solve D

Subsets of A hate C even more

C is now said to be the cause of D

Subsets of A reinstate A throw out C

A causes E

The nation implodes

Deadly White Lines

The crushed stone

Is not rock

It is a

mass of duplicity

He believed

he was strong

that was his lie

to himself

fragile

gentle of mind

vulnerable

Within his

forbidden white

lines

he discovered hidden nightmares

Of death

Delusions

Images crackle before

dry wounded eyes

I witnessed them by

never seeing

lonely tears

solitary

answers to

unspoken questions

never solve that

which is

enigmatic

never unearth that

which is

paradoxical

to know

is not to know

all knowledge is

v a n i t y

Adrift in the Void

empty dead eyes searching

ashen meanings

vanished hidden

vacuous strands

Dylan's cold stare

Lucretius' hot glare

all null and void in

the umbra of dark space

pulsating

hating

loving

killing

hollow souls

crying

screaming

sneering

leering

feeling

not feeling

greedy men with

painted clown smiles

controlling reality

playing cosmic corporation games

gluttony

dripping

seething

comic tragic masks

feeling nothing

but the dark

abyss of boredom

saints

sinners

philosophers

poets

laughing not laughing

living not living

being not being

beautiful girls

with painted faces

staring

out of Cassini lashes

elevated heels

malicious smiles

minds sated with

white and blue

beads of artificial pleasure

stumbling

crying

dying

its all found in this imaginary drama

called life

One Crummy Windy Morn

The wind is gusting, blowing my thoughts against cold memories like the icy tirades of those who live in cottages with pink flamingos in the front yard. Where the hell is justice, and why do the homeless live in cardboard boxes with no pink flamingos in the alley; and warm themselves with the burning of garbage in black cans. Tea Partiers on Social Security, Medicare, and government run prescription drugs scream against the horrors of socialism in the government. Where is sanity? A Republican Senator in his DC apartment painted with taxpayer money, votes with his base for less government welfare as he sips his California Merlot and smiles his politician smile with plastic white teeth, courtesy of his government health plan. In an alley in a dirty city a black women sits on her cardboard bed and dreams of a MacDonald hamburger. Next to her lies a Vet with a bottle of Thunderbird wine in a wrinkled paper sack, he gave up on dreams years ago while in the swamps of Viet Nam. The din of the city wails at them like the stridency of conservatives screaming NO, NO, NO. I finish sweeping my porch littered with leaves that blew off my Sycamore tree, wondering about the politicians, homeless women, and veteran drunks. My neighbors are at their gentlemen’s ranch again; they come twice a year to admire their well-manicured lawn and Merlot grape vines courtesy of their Mexican workers. They agree with Arizona that all the illegals ought to be sent back to Mexico, forgetting who takes care of their gardens, lawns, grape vines, and mansion. Have you noticed that a lot of people don’t seem to think too much with logic anymore; actually, they don’t appear to think much period! It’s probably the fault of all that twittering, googling, facebooking, and the rest of that computer initiated stuff. Isn’t technology grand? I pull up my underwear stuck between my legs and wonder where my flesh has shifted. I look at the scudding clouds in the mountains and wonder if the clouds will produce rain to bring out more friggen weeds. I’m already tired of the wind and cold weather. I clasp my dog around her neck and tell her to get out the hell of my flowerbed. She looks at me like most Republicans look at the Democrat’s new bills. Where is the sense of order, where are the sensible statesmen and honest corporate men? Those terms appear to be oxymorons now; oops, I meant oxymentallychallenged terms. I want to use some herbs on my steak tonight, but I can’t remember their names, so much for the wonderful golden years. What the hell good is retirement, if you can’t even remember the names of some damn herbs? I guess I’ll just keep sweeping up the leaves that never seem to end. Where is summer? Where is justice? Where is an honest man in the halls of congress? Where the hell did that dog go?

people are only words

People are

transient bits of reality

existing

in ephemeral time

thoughts actions non-actions

create us

letters words sentences

paragraphs

chronicles our lives

they are imprinted

for eternity

never erased

be sure your friggen book

Is edited to your taste

Indifference

Bought arrogant politicians

Supply purchased votes

They Perch regally on leather

Hands red with green greed

Generals constantly spinning

Hawkish blue lies of warfare

Wearing their lettuce haughtily

As soldiers die for naught

Factious loud media voices

Spinning lies for high ratings

Filling banks with green lucre

Ripping apart hard truth

Biased strident pundits

Convincing the ignorant

With outrageous lies while

Wearing bold black deceit

Where are the elder Statesmen

Where are the leaders who

Hold their allegiance to the people

Higher than that of lobbyists

Where is a good cup of Joe

For a buck a BLT for

$3.95 and an honest politician

For any price

Red Damp Earth

The icy winds gust madly over bitter graves where warriors lay,

Wives and mothers mourn and weep at the sounds of taps and

The deadly roar of twenty-one gun salvos.

The tokens of war, the ugly lies, smolder near the dead,

As the grieving, sit still in their sorrow. The lies cover the mortal

Way of understanding. Minds silently burning with questions

Unanswered in the teeming void of night try to listen to those

Who sleep silently under the cold damp earth.

Those lounging in rich decay clad in gold with nary a pain,

With feathery hearts, proclaim the glory of war.

Others unable to govern the pain try to wash away the horrors

Of battle with their tears, praying for moments of fearless nights.

Those from the high towers of noble birth with tearless eyes see only

Safe nights. Those of lowly birth with tearful eyes see only dark grief.

James earned his BS and MA from California State Polytechnic University, and his doctorate from Brigham Young University. He has had over eighty four poems published in over twenty three poetry magazines, journals and anthologies this year