top of page
  • Writer's picturePoet

iN honor of decembeR, 1964

wheN the wood-winds drip spit… and sweet tears bleed sweat / weT and dirty with grief

/ thE only relief comes when goD breathes in us so completely, so gently we can hardly feel

thE pain


picturE it

pilloW soft, Sticky Snow / China White Stuff―so Dope / everywherE

during these evenings leading to christmaS evE

santA displays and nativity scenes

outsidE lights line the streets to hide

aN honest reality which lies loudly in this Dark knight

wherE johN’s coal train smoke and Reindeer Dust clouds his Dark

nighT sky piddles pitchy, three note motifs to color the snow yellow / deeP

drifts blend with mesmerizing blues riffs

aS tragic magic rains like cats and Dog Food

akin to the way king henry the 8th ruled a multitude to their graves,


He ain’t six-feet under / Yet / In a yonder wander outside wonder, full box that

Acknowledgement bebops a baile Resolution in Pursuance of Psalm, deific

Scats skag-scatter smack that Key of E / Free

from humans and halos / Free

from heroin’s era heralding new errors

Listen… Let’s / Tune

our eardrums / Cymbals

shimmer as a distant saxophone enters and fades / His withdrawal

Going, going, gong crashes like a pithy epiphany pierces the brain fog to illuminate

light bulbs in the holy spaces of his temple

He trembles / Yet, he is not troubled / A piano tremolos / The treble continues for John / It’s simple

He has to fall


John falls from that white horse

He hard hits sharp gravel

Gratefully grovelling in clean dirt—pleading, praising

Pulling pure power from Earth Wind and Fire

Water forms

Spit drips, tickles a bit then runs down lips / Chapped

Cs accent E-flat Major, Fs and Bs / Flat tears wash away the past

Anguished dissonance

Gradually descending


Chromatic steps up


His Saxophone


Good grief


He Pulls

Himself from himself and prays/A million vibrations in one thought:

A Love Supreme

~Penned by Poet


27 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


bottom of page