Living to Tell About It

 I felt a gust of rage
equal to robbing a grave
I'm tell you I was living
in a malicious, mean neighborhood
my temperament
just as mean
just as malicious
worse sometimes
money came easy
easy money
and I spent the evidence
in places where even dismal fog
refused to gather
across that wide abyss
where the brutal
copulate in hate
sometimes grande dames
wander among the great unwashed
for wicked adventure
tired of hubby's trying
and failing
to get it up the second time
his ego deflated
besides
they've found out
marriage is an advanced
course in
lying your fucking ass off
the wrinkled old hides give you the look
the look that sez
she wants to saddle you up and ride
baby ride
even though their eyes
their dark, cold and commanding eyes
try to pretend
they're no more than a used-up
street-walking
five-bucks-for-head-in-an-alley
crack whore
even though they ride
back into the country club reservation
in a Mercedes
guys like me
left behind in the rubble of
more money than we've seen for a while
no longer thinking of what
we had to do to get it
better'n robbing banks
maybe
they left us well fucked
they left you well heeled
it'll be gone soon
like I said
spend the evidence
then
like hungry tigers
lay in wait for the old hides
to return
hope she picks you
and soon|
sooner than you ever thought it would
their eyes stopped lingering on you
smiling instead
at the new guy
the fresh-faced new guy
resigned to the fact after it happened
time and time again
you either
pick up a newspaper
wander through the want ads for a job
or pick up the gun
either way
you're incarcerated by bars
or a bosses' time clock

©August 21, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

A Gathering Cloud

I can see it hovering

this gathering cloud of mine

waiting

patiently waiting for its time

it knows the time is close at hand

no rush

it will know when to come

for almost a year it has waited

uncomplainingly, biding its time

understanding the nature of the game

is to gather all the bad things

I have done

the bad things done to me

bad things

that is when it likes to come and torment

giving an eye for an eye

tooth for tooth

payback

how you like it motherfucker

when I give you something you won't be able to handle

depression

it has tried to come before

succeeded to an extent

but not really because I was too strong

not now

I am weak and it knows it

its coming

this is just fact

so, it has finally come to this

I find myself alone with my mutt

my wife ten feet away in a box

still haven't gotten a vase

I find I miss her so much more than I knew I could

I'm not complaining

life is life

it does with you as it sees fit

but I have fucking news for that gathering cloud

I ain't that weak yet, buster

get lost

not today

not tomorrow

not ever

you are not welcomed in my life, I am not that weak

©January 23, 2009 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Street Scene (Music Director Alfred Newman's movie theme from several 20th Century Fox film noir classics) by Larry Vuckovich

Street Scene (Music Director Alfred Newman's movie theme from several 20th Century Fox film noir classics) by Larry Vuckovich

Question for Hussein (Sedoka)

I am wondering,

Who set you up to be God,

To kill America's worth?

The voters did citizen,

Voted me in, their eyes shut,

Relax, and watch how it's done.

©August 1, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Rock Solid (Double Acrostic)

Rack up those balls and let us heaR

Oboe notes filtered from the gazebO

Checkered tablecloth is so pathetiC

Knee-jerk response from fuming cooK

Soda has been spilled upon my dresS

Order that plate cooked with bamboO

Light here makes things very dismaL

I would advise you get the calamarI

Do you think so? I prefer the squiD

©August 15, 2010 Jerry Pat Bolton

Margaret and David: A Love Story

From past, present and future events in Amerikstand this book becomes more and more relevant.

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/margaret-and-david-a-love-story/6320722


Margaret and David: A Love Story, is a circumspect story which takes its presumption from history; a love story with political ramifications and social impact. After America's second civil war, fanatical Muslims seized power. Margaret and David: A Love Story is the story of tragic interracial love which develops as a nation grows to understand that bigotry and suspicion are tools for oppression and hate no matter where it is found. This is a love story of hope and devotion in the face of hopelessness and despair; a story which blur the lines of our multi-racial society. Margaret and David: A Love Story is about forbidden passion, political upheaval, treachery and hate.

Reflections

I sit and stare out the window,

Think about lips kissed long ago,

Close my eyes and play "let's pretend,"

As these words tumble from my pen.

I focus on a face once more,

Still as beautiful as before.

We go through life seeking comfort,

Attract, dismiss, all in Love's Court.

Memories of you find their place,

In daydreams you're adorned with lace.

But like the sifting sands of time,

I am no longer in my prime.

It is the winter of my life,

Sometimes it wounds me like a knife.

I think of places we have been,

Where we can never go again.

I breathe the air of this sweet earth,

As I have since my lonely birth.

Knowing full well with you I share,

There's nothing like it to compare.

I embrace your mem'ry so dear,

Hold high a glass of red to cheer.

Speak to me, Nanette if you dare,

I stand here with my soul laid bare.

Toward the dawning of the day,

I've talked to you in my own way.

Fate will reap its final reward,

As I fall forward on my sword.

©August 13, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Kill the Infidels

A battle cry heard throughout the world,
kill the infidels! are unfurled.
It is the words which they do not shout,
because they don't carry the same clout.
The real and scary secret they do keep?
Defeating the Holy crucifix!

Yes, indeedy, old chap and chapette,
you can fold your cards on this good bet.
Kill the infidel! is so oft said,
we hear, we smile and shake our heads.
That's how they talk, it means nothing, heck,
'til they lop our heads off at the neck.

The same ones in the U S of A,
who hate religion, all its clichés,
find themselves rooting and with much glee,
for these slaughterers of sanity.
Sometimes you can hate someone so bad
that it causes your thoughts to go mad.

Tongues lash out for political gain,
hurtful words from both sides calling names.
I never thought I would ever see
this much hate in the land of the free.
Some shout all are not free in this land,
just try speaking your mind in Iran.

©November 23, 2005 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Bird on a Limb

A bird is singing in a tree,
It seems he is singing to me.
His notes are sad much like a groan,
Has his lover left him alone?

He stopped singing and flew away,
Into the sky so dark and gray,
I wish he hadn't left like that,
Especially wish I'd worn a hat.

©March 1, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Clunk Slide, Clunk Slide (Monotetra)

I can hear you, clunk-slide, clunk-slide,

What do you want, my whispered cry,

Oh, leave this house you devil's bride,

Show yourself please, why do you hide.

Why have you come to me, you fiend,

Why don't you let yourself be seen?

Are you a monster colored green,

Or an enthralling old drag queen?

Have you come to collect my sins,

For things that I did way back when?

You are too late, too late my friend,

I'm not the same as I have been.

If you're here for my soul, please go,

I've forgiven myself, you know,

All those wild oats that I did sow,

So go away, stop! I said whoa.

Why do you not in me confide

If only to comfort my pride,

And please if you will, halt your stride,

As you clunk-slide, as you clunk-slide,

©August 8, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

The Long Hot Summer

The long hot summer

The heat sucks the life from me

Let's hear it for fall

©July 31, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Summertime

Original form of poetry I call "Septcouplet;" from Septette (A set of seven similar things considered as a unit) and couplet (Two successive lines of verse forming a unit marked usually by rhythmic correspondence, rhyme.) The Septcouplet consists of seven free-style verses, with six lines each, no syllable count. After each verse there are two lines which rhyme, with four syllables to each line. The style is lowercase, except for proper names, punctuation when needed inside the lines, but none at the end of lines.



hot summer puffs of air
gives fair warning of a far-off storm
floating just out of reach
and touch
but there nonetheless
eating whatever it can on its way

I pen this note
Bonnie’s remote

an ogre
with the wrath of humidity
here in the sub-tropics
ninety-five, going on heatstroke
can't walk my mutt
round the block anymore

oh, she gives out
half block, no doubt

I walk with a cane
for protection
from animals and huminals
when I heard complaints of heat
wanted to break the cane
over their heads

they hated cold
so I was told

summertime living is easy
they sang all winter long
bull hockey
can't take enough clothes off
when you're frying
winter you just grab a heavier coat

dress for the day
that's what I say

crude floating in the gulf
smothering everything it clings to
bad management
top to bottom
BP bad
White House worse

two months it’s been
politic spin

hurricane season now upon us
nature upping the ante
weather channel soothsayers
vomit out the terrible news
gonna be bad
the storms are a-coming

tho not much fun
I've yet to run

©August 6, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Lust

Here's what ya need to know about lust
When you're in lust
Talking about guys
You're either in heaven
Or you've got the blue-balls
It's women's turn now
Lose all sensibilities
Spread dem legs in an alley

©August 5, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Love

Can I tell you what makes love so frightening?
You don’t own it.
It owns you.
It owns your body,
Scrambles your brain
Gives you the energy
To act stupid
Then wonder why divorce courts thrive.

©August 4, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Life's Sonnet #1

My foresight and reality are one,
I cannot divide them in two, you see;
They help me as I look toward the sun,
Foresight, reality and me are three.

My heart tells me no, look back to the past,
I calm my heart with tenderness and care,
And say there is a future unsurpassed,
If we but reach for it, it will be there.

This inner struggle has cost us a lot,
The pursuit of the beyond scares us both,
Still, it's not too late a dream to be sought,
A paltry weed needs the sun for its growth.

We wake up and look for the morning light,
From it we ascend to infinite heights.

©September 25, 2009 / Jerry Pat Bolton

There Once Was a Man Named Fred

There once was a man named Fred,
He had a pie upon his head,
Those who saw it laughed,
Said he looked like a giraffe,
So he changed his name to Pudding Head.

©July 17, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Virginia

I was a stranger in a strange land,
Walking the city streets of pain,
From normal life I had been banned,
I was wearing shackles and chains.

What would I do, where would I go?
Defeat was in the air that day.
My soul the devil surely owed,
Dark clouds hovered o'er me; I was prey.

Oh, my deep down was low alright,
Couldn't go back, future looked bleak,
No one to share my pitiful plight,
Then you looked at me and did speak.

Your Texas twang gave me a smile,
You were taken by my blue eyes.
I came to love your down to earth style,
You chased all the clouds from the sky.

Tho my demons were still with me,
They were pushed on the back burner.
We loved, we laughed in old Big "D,"
I was happy because of her.

It lasted awhile, but no more,
My demons came back; hers did too.
We soon were fighting our own war,
All we could do was say adieu.

©August 2, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

I Blue Myself Today

I know, it’s a terrible thing to do,
I cannot believe I have stooped so low,
But actually there are benefits too.

I thought about it as I drank my brew,
And I just wondered how much it would grow,
I know, it’s a terrible thing to do.

I mean it is better than sniffing glue,
Besides it’s kinda a cool thing, you know?
But actually there are benefits too.

When I do it I guess I’ll think of Sue,
And at first I will take it nice and slow,
I know, it’s a terrible thing to do.

It’s much better than standing in love’s queue
I’m good at it, I’m like an seasoned pro,
But actually there are benefits too.

Hey, everybody at times gets the blues,
When you’re finished you can forget your woes.
I know. it’s a terrible thing to do.
But actually there are benefits too.

©July 25, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

America! Out on a Limb

These days America is looking bleak,
Revolution’s in the air, can’t you tell?
It’s time Americans stood up to speak.

We’re getting tired taking it on the cheek,
Hussein’s incompetence is our death knell,
These days America is looking bleak.

Freedom is being eroded each week.
Look’s like we’re in for a very long spell,
It’s time Americans stood up to speak.

Talking nonsense to us is his technique,
And each day all his cool words start to smell,
These days America is looking bleak.

We won the election he almost shrieks,
And the constitution we bid farewell,
It’s time Americans stood up to speak.

Come next November we will end his streak,
Conservative Congress will be his hell.
These days America is looking bleak,
It’s time Americans stood up to speak.

©July 30, 2010 /Jerry Pat Bolton

Don Juan of the Mind

I'd start making my rounds around midday,
And haunt the bars until the midnight hour,
Leaving nothing to chance I'd stalk my prey,
The lovelies were out there and on display,
My aim was to pick a pretty flower.

A man of leisure was I way back then,
I tread the nightly haunts with smile and guile,
I searched and I searched for a perfect ten,
And each conquest I made I'd say amen.
I soon had them swooning, that was my style.

Marvelous Mitzi's fell under my charm,
Sweet lassie's for the pickings it was nice,
I had them all in a swoon for my arms,
Some said I was as hot as a five-alarm,
Picking 'em off at closing time, my vice.

At closing time they were all movie stars,
Fair-haired and so lovely were my conquests,
It wasn't 'til morning things got bizarre,
My movie star turned into Rosanne Barr,
And I swear some had hair upon their breasts.

July 3, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Crows on a Wire

its clear to me the light pole wire is full
again
squawking crows
littering the ground beneath them
foul droppings
from Satan’s minions
perched atop the wire
which droops from weight of the imps
spawned by commit a blasphemous devilish curse
insolence on parade
communicating to each other
foreign to everyone and everything
other birds cannot understand their gibberish
and steer clear
from the bullies of the backyard
paranoid way of thinking
maybe
maybe not
foul, evil blackbirds
crows
from the sky descended
perched upon that wire
by prearranged petition
oh, a cold wind
blows throughout my soul
their eyes
beady and Satanish
measure me as they were sighting
down a gun barrel
what a dark place id live
with these wretched birds
they’ve been coming
every afternoon
now for three weeks
waiting
watching
what little soul I have left
for them to pick it apart
somewhere in the distance
the lonesome scream of a southbound freight
wish I could catch it
scrunch up in the corner of boxcar
away from the crows
it has been some time in coming
this great fear
fear so immense
I feel like my skull will soon split open
arteries will crack and come apart
blood pour through my nose
the doo-ron-ron background music
filters in my brain
old nineteen-fifties album
colored girls singing
can’t remember their name
the music
only thing that soothes my heartbeat
upsets the crows too
that’s why I put it on
keeps them at bay, or it seems to
but
I don’t know
for how long

©July 28, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

Be Careful

when you decide
for whatever reason
to
"get over" on someone
maybe you should rethink
even modify
your dastardly plan
'cuz see
karma is a kickass muthafucker
oh
need another cliché
how bout
what goes around comes around
when you test
certain individuals
a tad too much
they will kick back
in places
in situations
you'd never guess
let's just say
you're stupid enough
to have your home address
and
telephone listed in the old phone book
huumm
lots of possibilities there
wouldn’t you say
course none of my meanderings
mean much
to anyone I guess
except for one person

you

©July 5, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

To The One I Loved The Best

If I could, I'd forfeit my life for you,
You gave me understanding, you stood tall,
I see your face so innocent and true.

In those turbulent years you were the glue,
You were white picket fence, I, downtown brawl,
If I could, I'd forfeit my life for you.

If God is in Heaven, you're in his queue.
Your sweet name will be subscribed on that wall,
I see your face so innocent and true.

If I could conjure you back into view,
I would stand up for you, never to crawl,
If I could I'd forfeit my life for you.

But I cannot and that that gives me the blues,
Sometimes I want to sit down and bawl,
I see your face so innocent and true.

A nomadic life was all that I knew,
I think back to those days when I was small.
I see your face so innocent and true,
If I could I'd forfeit my life for you.

©July 16, 2010 / Jerry Pat Bolton

The Storm That Couldn’t and Next November’s Election

If we got thirty drops of rain from Tropical Storm Bonnie I’d consider it a flood. Just kidding. As I watched the Weather Channel on the computer as Bonnie tried and failed miserably to make herself into a full grown hurricane I was again grateful I don’t have cable. Or disk. I have a television, but when I moved in April of 2009 I refused all offers of television hookups. As I said, the little storm that couldn’t made me happy that I had chosen to be with television. I would have been screaming at it, maybe throwing something at it, and generally be downright irked about the coverage of Bonnie. Because I have seen it so many, many times before, the constant coverage with anchors and anchorites spouting off inane comments and trying to be all worried about the storm. Don’t kid yourself. They aren’t worried about the storm and how it will affect millions of peoples lives, oh no, they secretly want it to be a Category 5 monster, Katrina-like storm. I am convinced that is true.

Everyone seems to be holding their collective breaths waiting for this coming November’s mid-term elections. The Democrats are worried, as well they should be, that they will lose both the House and the Senate. Although I am not a political science major, nor am I an expert, I thought Bill Clinton would lose both times he ran for president, I have a problem with whoever wins in November. Oh, about Hussein’s (I refuse to call him Obama) victory in o8? I did predict that he would win. It was a done deal. The Republicans had no one to run against him, but I’m not too sure Ronald Reagan could have pulled off a victory in that race. Ah, race. The key word here. If Hussein has been a white man McCain might have stood a chance, but he wasn’t and he didn’t.

What has me scratching my head thinking about the coming political races this November is not will the Republicans win, and win convincingly, but what happens after these newly elected Republicans will do when they march into Washington with the support of a large majority of Americans. Even those who are determined to hold the line on their conservative views, and try to strip away some of the horrendous things Hussein and the Democrat controlled congress had shoved down the throats of America. Washington has a way of turning the heads and changing the political bent of far too many so-called conservatives. For instance, the new Republican senator from Massachusetts, Scott Brown. He owes his victory to the Tea Party and yet he has already voted against the Republicans on at least two key issues.

I fear for America.