Poetry of life

Iconic Legend

That Iconic Legend

and those things it does

to you.

When I ease your pain,

I own your sanity

as well as losing my own.

Whatever eases your pain becomes

the God you worship.

All those bad dreams

become a Poem;

all those bad days turn to

Poetry someone else read

in a dark alleyway.

Some things you get over, some

things you live with, as the Raven watches

the hooded ones lower you down deep.


do a quick check in at the cat box hotel;

Lest, the  only way to prove your love

and devotion is to find me a hangin’

in the garage on the end of your silken rope

sippin’ down my last jack and coke.

This anger just won’t let you go

so you can’t turn it loose into

the world of women.

It’s that insidious one

you didn’t think was there

because it submerged itself

between your hateful knees.

This empty stays as empty

as the night sky.

It’s the cream of California calling ya’

Making you take a backwards walk with a feather in your

Dodgers baseball cap.

It was living in old LA that did it to you and I.

Wading through all that smoggy traffic

in the way you have to

without pulling your smokin’ gun out of

its holster

(and, you promised me it was only goanna be just one last angry time!?)

You were takin’ a ride on that soulful tour bus, and

that ghostly driver drove you

to that mansion where all those

people were brutally killed

in the day;

and you had the gall to sit there and gawk.

But, it gawked right back at ya’ eye to eye and you didn’t

like all that dripping red, did you?

You dozed off somewhere in the heart of Disneyland as

the van

jarred your head

 back in gear and gave you partial whip lash

driving you past all those

palm trees, and a desert

of cactus and beautiful orange red sunsets,

through Hollyweird with all those dancing costumed


stealin’ the sidewalk stars


The skies killed us, that sandy beach, and everywhere you

were told to look you found out for yourself with your own

mind that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

Everywhere you looked, you saw one big lie

on every lit billboard on the side of the freeway

as you drove by in your old caddy

ninety miles an hour

puffing on your big cigar

taking a swig off an open bottle of Ripple

in a bag

(like the bag’s goanna fool anyone?)

As men think they’re so strong when his woman

is wrapped up in his arms;

he fears what he already knows about his

own terminal weakness.

But, she always knows

ahead of him.

That love never fills his soul

through a shallow mind.

That the grand theory of nothing persists

in that cavern despite its

delightful upbringing

delivering a telegram to your

door with all the answers

to life you always sought.

I have none.

I have no past.

I have no son.

It is as far as I see it, and

of my own making.

As the future rises, I have no recollection of

being asked to get up and leave

this dirty city.

Yet, I have this feeling as much as I believe in the

invisible; that as I walk, I walk

as no one follows.

That I have lived in vain, that there

is something else out there;

way out there,

out of reach who colors the background

filling my eyes with what it wants me to see.

As things have turned out differently because my path in life

changed and took me there

in these worn out feet

that talk to me and say

‘do what you do because you like it, and don’t look back,

not because it feeds your body and your ego,

but because you’ve long lost your way.’



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