Nightmare
and
Talking About People
and
Towns and Their People

POETRY

FICTION

ART

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Poems  by Sea and Moonlight

A Smile
I have a SEED
Somewhere within I am
Hugo
Letter to My Brother Frank
Dictation for a Dictator
An Open Door; Heed It
Toast to You
Gleaming Eyes
Said Ken to Me
Count to Satan
Loneliness
Reflective Voyage
Pick up the Pail
Death Today
Quick Life
Old Man's Whistle
God Is:
Each Season
As If Infinity
One Hears the Tune
Have I forgotten Jesus?
Brain Damage
Church Description
Den
Death in a Jungle
Ten Lines
Nature's Law
It's Still Sad
The Flea Tree
Gain or Lose
Going Away from Here
Nightmare
Talking about People
Towns and their People
Dear, Dear, Dearest
Population
Top Line
Mountains Reach
Upon these Grounds
A Ship?
Let the Timbers Shake
Wladyshaw
Winds of Fate
Sweet Young Girl
Fingers of Nature
The Lord Spoke
The Celtic Told Me
Mary
Poem to Pat
A Free Man
Poem


Above the cover of hud
where lay rugly a rug.
Wonder a sun from above.

Creep to the steep of the bed.
Crouched, then touched my head.
Light up the night gone as said.

Down to be sound at my feet
into the folds it did creep,
powerful yet so mightily meek.
Touch the sun, ounce its ton.
Given time and rhythm rhyme.
     Always. always, spinning around.
      Falling, falling, spilling on down.

Talking About People

We are a breed of destruction, destruction is our aim.
See how we crave on corruption, and fancy good and evil as the same.

We hide in the midst of semi-parents, and cry on the shoulder of pain.
As we burn each other as we do to serpents, we debate each man
is the same.

And walls around us we can create, yet the enemy conquers.
And all that time for education's sake, all of it falls to ulcers.

Understand we are born to die, God will not rid of us.
We are here to kill and hide. And to forget justic is just.
No, Heaven will not bother with us, Her hands She will not soil.
She'll sit as we kill Earth's crust, and watch this miserable place boil.

Towns and Their People

Townspeople cry when townspeople die. Townspeople feel alone
when they lose a human tie. Townspeople congregate and mourn
the death which silently reminds them that they too will die.

No wonder townspeople cry when townspeople die.

Townspeople's rules are followed not by newcoming fools.
Townspeople can chase passerbys using laws as their tools.
Townspeople live by their own morals made in offices,
streets and schools.

No wonder townspeople's rules are followed by all sorts of fools.

Townspeople's minds haven't stopped since the beginning of time.

Townspeople are confused, threatening, and seldom glance behind.
Townspeople only feel fine on drugs or town'e made wine.
Little analysis that Townspeople's minds have strongly
entered our time.