Descending chords sound the death knell of summer. The piper calls the chieftains, kings and warriors from the far fields of wasted war and destruction to gather together around bright solstice fires together with lost and forgotten lovers and friends. So beat your pagan drums to the true religion of the earth, of the … Continue reading Autumn Meditation
I was relaxing with my late afternoon Margarita in our hot tub, I was listening to old jazz on Pandora, Paul Desmond, Gerry Mulligan, Miles Davis, Stan Getz, Sonny Rollins, Dave Brubeck, Chet Baker and others. Such memories of those days of jazz in underground smokey bars, drinking whiskey sours and smoking my Camel straights, … Continue reading Reflections
The piper played the requiem calling the mistral home busy after the equinox and blood moon eclipse that set surreptitious specters free from epic sleep dreams of fanciful fancy where the princess found no charming after the storm. Play piper a desperate dirge so all souls can laugh at such a jaded jiggered joke … Continue reading All Hallows Eve
The midnight sun set on my dreams that no longer mattered since life left me on the side of the road.
Two robins packed for the last train south. Trees now but skeletons of summer splendor. The gypsy mystic was long gone from city streets. Once alive parks and playgrounds empty of laughter. How has our time together vanished so quickly. Our halcyon banter evaporated like fog in the sun. Joyful excursions through mountain flowers … Continue reading Last Train South
A dead boat lay solemnly upon white sand too far from the turquoise water shoreline at the border of impenetrable Mexican jungle where Mayans and jaguars once held court. Hemingway knew he should die in 1961 when there were no more stories to tell, when everything became too hard to say, when fiction had … Continue reading A Dead Boat