About 8 mile around the bend…

~~~

~~~

In the bush n’ the cacti, I kicked off my shoes

with a book in my lap, I started to snooze

n’ before I knew it I’d made me a lizard friend

the little runt amused me about 8 mile around the bend

~

This little critter’s whole body wiggled when he ran

from bush to bush and his slithering tail was oh so grand

then he come up next to me & look me in the eye

then he dart away & do it again on the sly

~

Then he’d disappear for a while, I’d read some

then off in the distance, well, here he come

skid to a halt next to me, dig around n’ up n’ tilt his head

there he was, lookin’ me in the eye like a thoroughbred

~

After my affair with Mr. Lizard so charming

I fell in love with Freddie The Fly so disarming

he was buzzing all around just wantin’ to die

but I just couldn’t kill ’em, I don’t know why

~

I had him under my thumb, but I let him go

then I caught him in my hand & opened it up real slow

for a moment only his head was peeking out

his two big eyes and his cute little pout

~

Then I climbed up the truck & layed down on the roof

I was fallin’ in love with everything but I had no proof

I tried to feel bitter & alone but didn’t get very far

‘cuz as day turned to night I fell for sweet Suzie Star

~

Moods will work you up and down and all around

before you know it you’re insane and unsound

they’ll yank you this way & yank you that way

before you know it, the White Coats are dragging you away

~

God’s creatures are all creeping up slowly on me

before long I’ll be slow-dancing with Flunky The Flee

I just hope that if I step on Rattle The Snake

he doesn’t mind if I also bake him a birthday cake…

~~~

poems from an out-of-print book

A Love Song To The American Lizard

by Rawclyde!

(Copyright Clyde Collins 1999)

~~~

~~~

Hallelujah

~~~

~~~

Remorseless, I arrived

too disheveled to kneel and pray

but on time for the celebration

of hallelujah…

~

An outcast desperado without a penny

I stood amongst those who had many

blessings children jobs and a handful

of hallelujah…

~

I found myself corralled also by pretty

females, young & not, who reached forth to

shake my hand & the jitters disolved in a hail

of hallelujah…

~

Courage deployed ~ deployed its soldiers

throughout the fort of my dismay

so I leaped for the chalice, the body, the blood

of hallelujah…

~

How does this all add up in this

this church in which I finally prayed

this ghost town through which I’ve been wandering

ahhhhhhh this ghost town called Love

?

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

 ~~~

Chapel Floor

~~~

~~~

I awoke in a strange place

beneath a strange light

surrounded by dozens of strange men

lying on the chapel floor…

~

They were scruffy and bewildered

tossed turned & turned again were they

all sleeping like smiling babies with

wings folded, arrows hidden in rumpled blankets…

~

I awoke right in the middle of this

pseudo Michael Angelo on the floor

I didn’t mean for this to happen

my life wasn’t supposed to come to this…

~

I was supposed to be wandering around in

the ghost town called Love, not

waking up in a Goonsville painting

then someone hit me in the head with a hammer…

~

I fell down

   dreaming again…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

Another High Noon (#1)

~~~

~~~

T’was bad ground & holy ground

in this American ghost town

in which the haunted saloon whistled its tune

which sounded forth shrilly especially around high noon…

~

There was no more whiskey

no more tables no more chairs

one wall was missing & half the roof

dust was thick where a rooster roosted

I wobbled on the last stool at the counter

Holy Mary the barmaid poured me a shot

a shot of grace

& I gulped it down.

~

In one corner stood some Tea-Party fumblers

in another some Occupy-Wall-Street tumblers

all were a-worry over the top 10% of the rich paying a fair share

but the flapping of the right & the rapping of the left

these wingers of the left & the right

never got together & that afternoon was icy as dark dark night

here

in the ghost town called Love.

~

There’s bad ground & holy ground

in this American ghost town

where the haunted saloon whistles its windy tune

which sounds forth so shrilly especially around high noon…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

Back In The Haunted Saloon

~~~

~~~

I strolled back to the haunted saloon

arrived floating

swung the bat-wings aside

one fell off its hinge, disintegrated

into a pile of dust as

the winged-heels of my hiking boots fluttered by

what a relief

finally floating after all these earth-bound years

“I’ll have a double” said I

to the barmaid, Mary

ahhhhhhh Mary

Holy Mary

our favorite Mary

   amen & hallelujah…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~ 

The Lost Goddess Pyramid

~~~

People people people hiding in metal cacoons

rolling rolling rolling all around most afternoons

& they’re lying down inside refrigerated tombs

dozing infront of TVs that turn them into goons.

~

I met an Egyptian goddess in the tumbleweeds

she pushed me down, made me her wanton slave

the pretty ancient disappeared in a puff of dust

I sit in front of a pyramid now a wanting to misbehave.

~

All the people sneek around behind tinted windows

I stick a thumb out, they lock their flying-by doors

I walk ’til I’m dead as they pay oodles for a private ride

as they build acres of parking lot & bigger dumber stores.

~

So now I sit in the sand infront of The Lost Goddess Pyramid

awaiting a swirl of dust to do what the last one did

numerous trains roll by, a chunk of stone falls off my nose

buried beneath a footprint & a trumbone blows…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

~~~

Flock of Grace

~~~

A flock of birds gathered

in front of the locked library door

chirped & chirped

so happy to be alive

so charming & delightful

like an expanding crowd of hispanic women

waiting to be let in the library

here

in this ghost town

  called, yes oh yes, Love…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

The Barmaid

~~~

~~~

I sauntered into the haunted saloon

placed myself carefully on a stool at the counter

nobody was there but a bunch of ghosts & me

the barmaid, Holy Mary, uncorked a bottle of grace

poured me a shot

the shot glass looked empty

but I knew, yes, I knew

the shot glass was now full of grace

“the Lord is with thee,” I said to the barmaid

she smiled gently

a replica of the Milky Way galaxy in each eye

a crucifix above her head

“what’s a crucifix doing in here?” I asked

her reply:  “This is the ghost town called Love, remember?”

an awkward grin tilted my head sideways

I gulped down what she had served

& left a generous tip…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

Tired

~~~

~~~

I’m tired of whittling on the carcasses of

blind 3-eyeballed dragons with

dried-up peas rattling around inside their broken skulls…

~

I’m tired of finding girlfriends of yesterday

hung by the neck ’til dead & gone & gone again

from the sagging branch of the hanging tree infront of

the sherriff’s office & him hiding in

a locked jail cell all night long…

~

I’m tired of being told by the whistling wind that

my hair is too long & my work day is too short

& to hand it all over to a landlord who was born dead…

~

I’m so damn tired of walking around avoiding goons in cars

who chip at my brain with an insane

overload from television noisily sucking the juice outta their souls

& splattering this goon piss all over my reading lamp…

~

I’m weary so weary bleary & tossed & turned burned

& still walking ~ always walking around ~ in this

ghost town called Love

ahhh yes, this craven ghost town

this squirrelly ghost town…

~

(Copyright Clyde Collins 2011)

~~~

Go ahead, visit

RAWCLYDE’S CODE ROOM

http://rawclydescoderoom.wordpress.com

~~~