Slide me into the flames
Wrap me tight for the fire
Let no man see my wrinkled flesh and thinning hair
No long worms will curl through me 
Flash my bones to ash and sift for my gold
Let me rest awhile in uncovered brass,
in the light, above the dirt that I toiled in.
Then cast me into the breeze
so I may always drift above it.
Slide me into the flames 

DSS  4/25/2011

**** An now a new one. ****

place our hope in mighty god
mighty we hope he will be
hope not placed in how we are
but hope in how he will be
we think what will come someday
will be what god says will be
when today all we can have
is how good (a) man can be

DSS

For NPM I will be posting a few poems, both old and new.

The Cold Sleep
  (A Rhyme)

After Waking up from the cold sleep,
not knowing the place I am,
No sense can really tell me
sunrise or sunset I’m in.

After Waking up from the big sleep,
unaware how long for me,
Not knowing how old I am,
how old would I think I’d be

After Waking up from the long sleep,
not knowing what house to use,
When looking for my home place,
which side of town would I choose

After Waking up from the deep sleep,
not knowing what race I’m in
If I knew what time it was
then when would the race begin

After Waking up from the dark sleep,
not knowing what job I do
Blinded from the work I’ve done
then what life would I pursue

Before Slipping into the cold sleep
knowing the man that I am
Are there things I need to know?
are there thoughts I must exam?

DSS  (September 5, 2011)

Only As One
 (A Thought)

Words
Thoughts into phrases
hung together
in lines indented
only meaningful when read as one.

Me
Thoughts into actions
hung together
into a life indented
only meaningful when accepted as one.

DSS     (January 24, 2011)

I’m not particularly in search of God Almighty. 
I feel that being spiritual is more the quest for questions than it is a quest for answers.
If it is a scientific thing, a firm answer may be found.
If it is a spiritual thing, the answer may be no more than mist
and if we find it as fact, is it spiritual any longer?
The world is round and the planets do orbit the Sun
What if we found God living down the block at 500 Vine Street?
Would he still be an inspiration to us?
If we passed his house each day and he was sitting in his favorite chair on the porch admiring his creations
would we be so amazed?
Would you still pray to credit God for good fortune or for the courage to survive your hard times?
Or would you just go down to 500 Vine Street and sit on the porch with him for awhile
and thank him in person?
Soon wouldn’t you just be passing by and only giving him a tip of the hat or a shallow curtsy?
No, I am not searching for God or His answers any longer.
It is much more interesting and perhaps more spiritual to search for more questions of the Universe.
Why do bugs have 6 legs?
Why are wheels round?
Why is a thought just a thought?
Where is God?
I know, He’s at 500 Vine Street 
If He were there, it wouldn’t be long before people would be asking,
Is he really at 500 Vine Street?
An answer takes so much explaining
A question can be so short no matter how complicated the answer.
And the Universe never runs out……. without questions, how empty the void would be.

DSS   

What have I to say?
I can say the sweet things, the accepted things
the heart warming, precious things.
Speak of love and the expected things.

But how hard the life?
The road of bumps and gravel dust,
of roadside weeds and ungated railroad crossings.
And always forgetting to look both ways.

The life of pebbles that break windshields
and jiggling of toilet handles to prevent a flood.
Watching dimly lit gas gauges on E
and quickly mown yards with untrimmed edges.

Oh, to notice the perched hawk, saying hello to him and following his stare as I pass
Wanting to remember the first days of the new seasons and to watch the Sun and the Moon
and to know when and where they will rise and how full it will be on my free Sunday.

How hard the life to forget these things?
How good the life?
To want these, to have hope of these.

I am as much as the beetle stranded on his back.
For even he struggles to right himself and live.
If he, then so will I.

DSS

       I remember the year like it was yesterday. 1967 was rainy, windy, hot and had a very cold winter. It was filled with extremes. I got my first driver’s license, first motorcycle and came very close to getting laid during that summer. Ya, it would be fair to say that I liked 1967 from the start. The events of that year made me feel normal, if only for a short while.
        I first began to love the movies in 1967. I not only finally got to drive my dates to the movies in the privacy and comfort of my dad’s ’58 President Studebaker but once there, got to see The Graduate, Bonnie and Clyde, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner, The Valley of the Dolls, To Sir with Love, In Cold Blood and Cool Hand Luke. Hell, that year, if movies were wine, they would now be selling for 3 thousand dollars a bottle. It was a very good year for picture shows. 
       Then, on those slightly chilly nights, top off the date by climbing on the Yamaha bike and feeling behind me the heated presence of my date’s tightness and warmth snuggled up against the small of my back. That’s the year I learned what motorcycle riding and high passenger foot rests were all about. A good year indeed.
        We listened to Whiter Shade of Pale, All You Need is Love, I’m A Believer, Light My Fire and Strawberry Fields Forever. And heard about an album being released by a little known group named Pink Floyd. And we still had two years to go to reach 1969. 
      Remembering the old days is good, but when you get to feeling that the remembrances are of no value to others… you should move on. 1967, the year I learned how to breathe, how to live, and yes,….. how to move on.

DSS

Just before dawn
before the deep of dark thins
just as the birds awake and night vermin returns to dens
shhhhhh…listen…look into the morn
all creatures are still as Lady Hawks transform.

You will see neither bird, neither blond dame,
may hear the weak growl
a wolf’s mournful howl
for the Bishop’s evil green bane.

DSS

Tuesday December 14, 2010

Feeling bad…
I’ll tell ya feeling bad….
wake up without a dime to your name
Or a bed to call your own
No place to clean up, your clothes or your face

I’ll show ya feeling bad…..
Just need a job …
 work your ass off
for a day of poor wages ….
But no chance of making it better

Hell no…no chance of makin’ it better.. 
with worn out clothes and shoes…
the only livin thing that talks at ya and smiles
is a dog that’s only lookin for a meal
and a box as warm as yours

follow me today….
I’ll show ya feeling bad…
all that I own in a shoppin’ bag,
a pair of socks and a book..
a book to read to feel I’m still alive

Don’t read no long words to me
For now I’m alive without them…..
I’ll listen for the soup but the soup is thin,
as thin as the platitudes it’s made from
and the stench of your Holy speak

say your words ….
give your sour looks…
when you leave look back.
yeah..I’ll still be here feeling bad …
yeah.. follow me today

follow me today…
like the shadows behind me
talking in my ear so loud,
shoutin’ my name,
tellin’ me to keep movin’ or die..

yeah….follow me today….

DSS.

I’m sitting in my new electric easy chair.
Simple to operate.
It has two buttons,
up and down,
They are placed conveniently below the armrest.
Sleepy? Need a rest?
Push the up button,
but slowly,
there is a sweet spot for the proper extension.
Feet and legs elevated, supported snugly by a soft leg/foot rest.
Back just slightly reclined,
straightened
perfectly supported.
Neck tucked ever so neatly into a built-in cushy cushion.
I think I’m going to like this new motorized adjustable electric chair.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz 

DSS.  

Small and unknown
Like others of misfortune,
battles the routine of the day.
Unknown why,
Unseen how,
Burrowing through
by gnawing.
Scraping by on crumbs
found between the cracks,
Safe from the occasional broom,
a mouse’s life.

DSS

My head turns to thoughts of the Moon
The Full, the Crescent, the New
I think of the Moon’s oblong Tide that rolls across our planet
Not stopping at the ocean’s edge but continuing across plains, mountains and Man.
Tugging on water, granite and skull as it makes its way around Earth captured paths.
Raising and lowering
Stretching and shrinking
Day in and day out 
Performing a constant celestial massage on all things of this world.
Forming and changing shores, mountains and minds.
Bringing spring tides or slack waters

DSS.