Poor Butterfly

As soon as you have cum, my thoughts come around like a butterfly in a twister.

I think you’re pink and when I look again, you ain’t there. Where did you go?

Did you ever flow? Were you ever here? or near? I think so, but don’t really know,

because my thoughts come sudden and swift, and spin around like the unfortunate

butterfly that’s blown around and around in a circle, like a circus clown caught in the wind.

Will I ever know if winds are blowing from left to right or right to left?

The butterfly looks for a cure, but is like a bear lost in the woods, or like my brain,

that doesn’t know which way it’s going, up, down, or around, around, and around until,

silly as it sounds, it sails away, going the wrong way to a town that was never there.

Is it okay that only my thoughts think circular or am I dizzy enough to fly like that skimpy butterfly?

If you say so, I’ll believe I’m going the right way, toward the light, but what if I’m not, will I die?

If I do, will you tell me which way to go, up, down, or around. Should I follow the butterfly that blows

with the wind, or does it ride the wind to butterfly heaven? If so, that’s where I want to go.

You’ll never know, but I will, if I follow the Butterfly all the way.


Words-Wonder- Witchcraft-Wonderful-

Take as many words as you know

and to make them flow mix a potion

in one motion in the name of love

to hear the one you want say those

endearing words you want to hear

put in smart stupid or any you want

so he becomes what the words describe


Guessing isn’t good enough to create a blend

to make a friend change from one way

to another when his mother objects use the next

best or worst words found in the dictionary and thesaurus


that are there to define what makes fine wine and

you wonder under the spell what he’ll be like

after you disintegrate the words and put them into a

witch’s brew to make them true you feed him

a dash of the potion in a cup of tea and hope


as soon as he drinks he’ll turn pink and become wonderful

from the mixed words of hope kindness charity goodness and

humor along with long forgotten historic words

told in fairy tales that made people full of laughter

and to live happily ever after


I’m certainly addicted




It has me in its grip

blinded by claims of fame

promising me what I need


and there’s no letting go

while I’m in pain, I believe

what I do is okay and



I’ll fill my needs with my

wish to please but I shouldn’t become

greedy with my craving for admiration


from girls.eager to satisfy

without saying please

I don’t need drugs to work


but hope everything I need

to fill my needs will come my way

and never let go


until I discover stupid and getting

 screwed go together

like a writer with dope


I suffer when my name appears

on the cover of a book and it brings

no fame no girls no money no acclaim


yet, I continue inscribing words and I know why

                   I’m addicted


I wanted to write a pretty poem about growing up, but these are the words that came from my head!

My Excuse Is,

Born with original sin on my soul. It helped me understand, that
in this land, the hand that slapped my ass to make me squall showed
I was loved, my Mom said, as the perpetual gleam in her eyes shone
brighter than ever before when she showed her love.

With but a fraction of my life gone by, I took action
in the name of love, to show my affection to every girlfriend
I knocked to the ground but found many didn’t want to be undeniably
loved like that.

Some, surprised by my love, called the police and they showered
me with brotherly love as they spanked my face until I went
to another place. Unable to show my affection to the police,
when released, I searched for a girlfriend to show my need.

In the Palace bar, I found one, dancing with a jerk. To do my deed,
I showed my brotherly affection and struck him in the face before I
took her away. Once home I showed my love with a few light smacks to
her face.

To my wonder, she whacked me back, hard, right between my eyes.
I returned it with one that took all my strength.
She didn’t cry Like girls usually did. Her knee slammed
into my crotch. Convinced she loved me more than I did her,

I went a step further and like the love addict I was, kicked her
until she fell to the floor. To show I adored her more than
any other man. I stepped on her face with love in my heart.
Love hurts, I knew but didn’t know one could die from it

until the police came and showed they still loved me until my
eyes swelled shut. So you see judge, that’s why I don’t deserve to
die in the electric chair in despair because I only wanted to show
I loved her more.

Joe’s Wall-All in all it was just painted styrofoam on the wall.

I don’t need no education.
I don’t need no thought control.
I’ll paint what I see, like Van Gogh
I’LL fill the empty spaces with more of the same
until I fill the final place to match the rest,
and when I complete it, my living room will
be a place, artists will want to come to acclaim
that a dummy like me has an eye for color and
talent enough to turn junk into art.

Athena’s Promise

Athena’s promise

We arrived alive after retro rockets set our craft down on a planet where
I told the first woman I met I’d trade my world for hers if I could because
I loved the stars shining in all three of her eyes and the moon lighting her
crystalline mane no one like her existed on my world a lonely place floating in space

All women on my world had only two eyes two legs and are two timers
only the stupid believed and can never perceive we’re not faithful
and true that’s why I can love all three of your eyes your three legs
and the three nipples on your back that bring so much pleasure

I never planned on returning to my world where women only had two nipples on
their chest and only one pleasure hole that we treated like gold and never let a man
hold it and then think he owned it on your world I found you and others who have
three of everything

Among us who landed on your world not one man survived because unknown to us ravenous manlike reptiles feasted on our men and wanted to have us women as their wives but desisted from using us when they found our women couldn’t reproduce what their women did when mated they’d always produce a daughter a son and a snake

But the fragrance of testosterone became so irresistible to a manly serpent carnivore they’d celebrate the birth and then their flesh addiction caused them to eat all the boy baby’s even their sons before they became men so after they had eaten every boy the carnivores became too old to recreate and with no boys to eat they ran out of testosterone

And almost became extinct until we arrived with husbands and sons and after they devoured every one of them the serpent king promised women like me if we reproduced with them we could survive and every woman wanted to live to have a baby of her own but serpents had to eat meat and without any men left on their planet they were doomed

Until I informed them of how many men lived on the world we came from they flew to my home where men waited debated but unknown to them even though they gave everything they owned the welcome they gave accelerated their time to go because serpents crawled and slithered upon my world filled with the perfume of testosterone

they devoured every man and then ate all the boys so without testosterone they tried to force us to try IVF so we’d have a boy who’d become food for those devastating beings
Goddess Athena to whom we all prayed had promised after the serpents devoured every man on this planet they’d all die when unable to satisfy their addiction to testosterone

After Athena answered our prayers and there were no serpents or men who survived we wanted to recreate and the scientists among us developed a technology where our womanly cells transformed and using parthenogenesis every woman conceived another just like them that begun the cycle where we reproduced hundreds of girls
Using the technique women among us discovered and now we produced only our genome so only women lived on this world and peace came and sexual harassment became a thing of the past as promised by Athena after the aliens died.




Beer, give me a beer that’ll

disappear my fears.

Not just any beer. Give me

one brewed with 9% alcohol

or more.



Make it dark and bitter if you

will. Frost my glass and fill

it with dark, dark brew that’ll

go down my chute to satisfy

that urge for a cold, cold beer.


I don’t want to drink a Miller or a Bud

that I’d spit into the dust. Those names

are easy to say, you know they are, but

I’ll wait for beer brewed to taste and if

the name is hard to say, like

Weizenbier or Rauchbier, it’s okay.


I’ll even drink some Raspberry Imperial

Stout or a Fruit and Vegetable Beer.

Herb and spice beer will quench my thirst,

but I’ll never know unless I drink beer beer,,

and more beer brewed specially for me.




“Take this pill,” the medicine man said when the moon was overhead,

“Strike me dead if it doesn’t make you young and full of pep again.”


I believed his words because; diplomas hanging on his walls put me in awe

of how accomplished he was, so I took the pills to be young again.


Instead, they put me into a stupor for a month or more. One day I awoke and my head was clear, but what I treasured more than anything, had disappeared.


Before taking those pills, something within spoke to me throughout the day, not in words,

but in thoughts that turned everyday objects and happenings into heavenly moments of joy.


I could write a story or a poem anytime I put a pencil in my hand, and always had an ending that twisted and turned and spurned the main theme, like a dream to the reader’s eyes.


I’d see colors so bright, they’d blind anyone else, and music of any kind filled me with joy before those pills killed God’s gift to me. Is it worth staying alive now that the best part of me is gone?


Before that part got lost, I enjoyed my own company more than any others. I was free to think and design, whatever my imagination sent my way. It was my best companion and friend.


I wanted to stop the pharmaceuticals but was told, “Take them for the rest of your life or you’ll die.”


As I lay in the dark, I cannot see what choice to make, because my imagination has died and without it, I cannot see or hear things that are beautiful to me.

Have a Good One! Easter

Just a little I thought,
and then a little more
and now I know

it has me in its grip
promising me what I need
there’s no letting go.

blinded by claims of fame
and in pain I believe
what I have done

is okay to even try
to fill my needs
my desire takes money

and eager to please I
don’t need any drugs
to work but know

everything I need
to even try to fill
my needs came in
I found today

Her shadow

Because my hands can’t feel the image I see, I know
it’s only a shadow of her that has killed the spark and
carried the dark and dreary nights into my life.

I’m alone again and don’t like darkness that envelops
me when no one else is here. I see moon and stars
shining above and wish their light

would wash her shadow from my eyes and cleanse
my thoughts so I don’t keep wondering if she’ll
ever get here to dissolve the night that’s

covering my thoughts and soul in darkness. They sink
bit by bit into quicksand so thick they’ll soon be buried
and deprived of any light to show they exist.

Maybe I should believe I don’t see shadows surrounding me and
imagine another in my head instead of her, then sunlight, starlight,
and moonlight can penetrate the night and show me that,

she’s not needed to light up my life.