Very angry, I walk
along the turbulent
Hudson river finally
resting on a wooden
dock. Its earthy,
pungent smell brings
me to sanity.

Hammered by a dream
I saw this morn's yesterday
in a sunny room

Very angry,
I walk along an
equally turbulent
Hudson river,
finally resting on
a wooden dock.
The acrid smell
of creasote brings
me back to sanity.

Enraged, I walk it off alongside
an equally turbulent Hudson,
finally settling an a dock. Like
a medicine, its creasote smell
brings me back to sanity.

precariously,
in water, standing on muck,
a lone crane fishes

boats furrow moonlight,
sailing to away places
her ripples still dance

cool, not yet winter,
dawn breaks with alacrity,
gathers my shadows

My eyes bloomed roses in
the campfires of my youth
we talked, talked the nights away
but the horses were already saddled-
the distance-the blowing waste of
ground zero.

small, sometimes scrawny,
the youth of the farmland pine
will light up Christmas

The crashing anger,
the ebb, the flow,
the rightness,
the kiss of the beach

normanclayton2004
@yahoo.com

was fishing for a kindly step,
found New England's Emily
Christ! I'm...dancing with her!
Boy can she ever dance! Whoops!
I've missed steps!

Saw news, said hello,
how are ya he said
today I'm good news
but I really want to be
bad news cause that sells
maybe I can sound bad
but have a happy ending?

1
so catch it,please,
and help bring the
bread, the wine,
it's a festival!
2
remember the bread,
the wine, the fear of
autumn,
the soul nearly bare
3
I imagine God
waiting, wanting, to be me
Did I shut the door?

normanclayton2004
@yahoo.com

How nice the piano in
my kitchen. It will play
Bach while I'm frying
eggs and the eggs will
scramble themselves
by just listening. Eating
listening eggs, so I've
been told by advertising
gurus will give me more
brain power. But maybe
it's all just Bach. Bok...
Bok Bok Bok

Funhouse

Hiding under the mirrors
I take long strides but
the mirrors catch up
making me fat and short,
thin and tall, making me
old when I feel young,
so I dip into the mirrors,
almost drowning in the
mirrors and I demand
others to show the same
reflections and if they
honestly cannot I count
them as true brothers and
sisters for that is the way
out of the funhouse

Said hello to Hamlet,
did his pain care?
Does mine?
Said hello to Ophelia,
did her pain count?
Does mine? Well,well,
I just said hello,
talk to me.

American Potporri

"Whole grains...consist of
the entire grain seed"
New York Times
"The creation of a thousand
forests is in one acorn"
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"The boneman in closets who
rattles the mothballs"
Erica Jong
"Color is no clue. Brown
bread may contain molasses
but no fiber"
New York Times
"People create their own hells"
Holly Lisle
"We trot across the vegetable
world in a pack of mad teeth
and tongues" Joyce Carol Oates

American Potporri

"Whole grains...consist of the entire grain seed."
New York Times
"The boneman in closets who rattles the mothballs"
Erica Jong
"The creation of a thousand forests in one acorn"
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Color is no clue. Brown bread may contain
molasses but no fiber."
New York Times
"People create their own hells"
Holly Lisle
"We trot across the vegetable world
in a pack of mad teeth and tongues"
Joyce Carol Oates

American Potporri

"Whole grains...consist of the entire grain seed."
New York Times
"The boneman in closets who rattles the mothballs"
Erica Jong
"The creation of a thousand forests in one acorn"
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Color is no clue. Brown bread may contain
molasses but no fiber."
New York Times
"People create their own hells"
Holly Lisle
"We trot across the vegetable world
in a pack of mad teeth and tongues"
Joyce Carol Oates

American Potporri

"Whole grains...consist of the entire grain seed."
New York Times
"The boneman in closets who rattles the mothballs"
Erica Jong
"The creation of a thousand forests in one acorn"
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Color is no clue. Brown bread may contain
molasses but no fiber."
New York Times
"People create their own hells"
Holly Lisle
"We trot across the vegetable world
in a pack of mad teeth and tongues"
Joyce Carol Oates

American Potporri

"Whole grains...consist of the entire grain seed."
New York Times
"The boneman in closets who rattles the mothballs"
Erica Jong
"The creation of a thousand forests in one acorn"
Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Color is no clue. Brown bread may contain
molasses but no fiber."
New York Times
"People create their own hells"
Holly Lisle
"We trot across the vegetable world
in a pack of mad teeth and tongues"
Joyce Carol Oates

Marriage

Walking the morning, seeing
if she needs a drink. She doesn't,
nor do I. Now we shadow the
ground together, each with our
history of go-arounds, though
hers are more regular than mine.
And,for now, both of us, we,
come back.

saw art today.
It has a shiny new shovel
and it was digging, while
I had a dirty old pitchfork
that smelled like the stuff
I was forking.

"fuzzy wuzzy was a bear
fuzzy wuzzy had no hair
fuzzy wuzzy wasn't very
fuzzy, was he"?

Stick it to this teddy bear
I'm talking trash again.
I'm saying "rootabegger"
Now there is a word:
scholarly, warm, dry,bright
with a ring to it. I don't want
to hear any of this "fuzzy wuzzy"
crap. I still have loads and loads
of hare. I mean hair. I really do.

There once was a woman named Jane
who in looks was far from plain
but her glow inside
was where she resides
though her spirit is far from tame

yes,a little air
a little sun
a little earth
a little rain
sweet green pea
you laugh at me
as I go back forward back
and it's you who are born again

life's icy stares
how much for lonely?pain?
well,I, gave myself a bisquit
and I broke it into two
one me, one you

I guess the big difference between
the lion and me is that he eats,smiles
and I smile,eat.

Noncloudy Days (to Gwenn)
every sunset the sun is touched
or maybe its me who is touched
for while I'm with you my horizon rises

Unfinished Country Song

Dear, when are you leaving my heart?
It never began, there was no beginning,
so when are you leaving my heart?
And when is my heart leaving you?
Freedom from pain all that to gain
yes when is my heart leaving you?
Leaving, leaving you?

kicking my old dust
life's little pick-up,honking,
travels thru my heart

You never whisper
but sometimes I dream aloud
stuck in your closet

 

linger on the cliff,
walking tight,rope tight,
but I rewind and the rage
that was so beautiful
skips tiringly to calm.

unrequited,
it's ready-made to collect dust
or to be put on a pedastel
or in a dusty drawer, one filled with
sweet smells, a drawer where one
can can often take it out and
polish it.  Just to keep its purity,
always keep its purity, that honest
sunlight would dissolve.

Rage
I force the lion's roar for
his rage is not my rage
nor is his dinner my dinner
but we have the same
long lost uncle and so
I call him cousin despite
our different rages. And
what we do about them.

Howl
 
Coyotes in the basement
the moon doesn't give a howl
 
Basement coyotes
The moon still doesn't give a howl
 
Moontight and sullen
like a basement coyote
I don't give a howl

Gwenn
turn left the
street's one way
up and down
down and up
well I thought one way
Me. I thought me.
and now there's you
You.yes you.

lift up your high heeled sneakers
put your wig hat in your hands
faster faster
today's a day of twenty only four
with just its anxieties
not tomorrow's
and if you set your starting line
at zero you can almost erase
yesterday's regrets

Big popcorn Dipper,
Thank all the fish in the tank
I get to see, eat

Ring around his neck,
the cormorant dives
for his fisherman.
And I, I, yes I,
wish to discourse
on this. Sir.

Buttery skies
buttery me-
but not me-
buttery skies
not tomorrow's anxieties
not yesterday's regrets
not heavy me
buttery skies. me.

Rebirth

Dawn is tasty,is
lemon pie with rose
hued merangue, so, yes,
come the revolution,
come come the revolution

King Chicken

Being fried with bread crumbs
made him peckish made him
dull and squat in short
he felt insignificant
he felt his far right wing
he felt his far left wing
they too were hot
they too wore metal not medals
and the fish--oh there were
lies all around--yes it was
better just to be a barnyard
layer--than to be on the hot seat

Beauty

You are Cheerios
or a squabble with corn flakes
love, you ain't telling
just like traffic in the basement
or a lot of bells ringing
deadman's tunes dying with a
fly full of minnows and
lickity wings music as
coarse as kosher salt
yes I have flowed your river,
your longing clutching my
roll of pennies fit for deadman's
eyes yes I have flowed the song
down the room raising eyebrows of questions
Why? What and who was it? Art as bandito,
starting with this kiss.

Beauty

You are Cheerios
or a squabble with corn flakes
love, you ain't telling
just like traffic in the basement
or a lot of bells ringing
deadman's tunes dying with a
fly full of minnows and
lickity wings music as
coarse as kosher salt
yes I have flowed your river,
your longing clutching my
roll of pennies fit for deadman's
eyes yes I have flowed the song
down the room raising eyebrows of questions
Why? What and who was it? Art as bandito,
starting with this kiss.

falcon,falcon
flying,flying oh
flap flap oh hover and
float and so floating and so floating
down well
catch me I'm a dream
catch me if yoy can

clouds like curly waves
almost lemon merengue dawn
pie in the...heavens!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARY
The gentle tomatoes,
the saucy onions,
the stately green,green peppers,
and love and kindness and
yes contrariness,all
grow in Mary's garden!
love ya brother Norman

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MARY
The gentle tomatoes,
the saucy onions,
the stately green,green peppers,
and love and kindness and
yes contrariness,all
grow in Mary's garden!
love ya brother Norman

Left my laugh laughing
it was,like bar room pretzels,
too hard to swallow.

The wine on my breath,
the bread in my mother's hand,
now smell of the sea.

Left my laugh laughing
it was,like bar room pretzels,
too hard to swallow.

The wine on my breath,
the bread in my mother's hand,
now smell of the sea.

Sugar is a risk
said the lemon-y salesman
ask any basket,case.

The giver of rocks
left me two peaks and one cliff
said climb up some time

my bib, my high chair,
my fine art of living dry
grow up sleepy head!

Looking at Dover Beach

The empty pains of me
My always grinding pebbles
My grout eroding my madness hovering
its waves still splashing

and yet my hopes, my joys,
my longings, my courage, yes my courage
going down this river to the sea

deeds red white and blue
put myself on a wood horse
two footed gallop!

Day and night it groans
Know what? Go skinny dipping!
Let St. Ambrose fear

Sprung Luv

morning feeds on tigers
it's aptly titled spring
"parsley, sage, thyme,rosemary"
flip that exit line, my dandeLION

which side of my wave?
the old undertow pulls me
who dares go to sea?

fighting for a rock
such strife, such small bananas
finger deep the earth

floating on floating
my low tide washes me up
the beach welcomes me

How's my sweater bumps?
All the meadows are asphalt
I scream for ice cream

Saw General Custer
dreaming of handcuffs,riots
pass on gentleness

Adagio song
I enjoy my new haircut
pay attention birds!

vertical moon beams
while,on course,the moon circles
many tall glass huts

swim with the wood ducks
smell the magnolias on shore
I loiter, float out

blossoms are grounded
where no cherry blowers bloom
Potatoes! go dig!

wild geese headed south
they do not leave formation
spring rains weave songs, dances

wind splashing the waves
lap to lap a quarrel sound
no marriage today

dewdrops bead, scatter
a man walks his dog early
their prints amble,trail

in this shallow pool
I wash and ocean hard spots
boat in the morning!

Bear hugs,bear hugs all
I gain,lose, my second coat
what matter seasons?

This storm of summer
rows of trees bend towards me
who's the windy one?

Blus eyed, like stream water
every hair five gallons full
gray as my tin pail

Another busted haiku
Dredging memory
I bait hook line and sinker
but nothing nibbled
nothing but me who is
out to lunch

There once was a writer named Joyce
whose green snot gave him a sharp voice
he said the sea is our mother
plus the significant other
but father son's the consubstantial choice

Board walking my wolf
far above the surf, the sea
hut, two tha ree four
I rest, say peace over power

Shadows chase the sun
or does the sun chase shadows?
never played tag?

Pick me a flower
give me a rose without thorns
She held mostly pain

Sailing the oil slicks
a lot of godless ding ding
belay! Land ho!

When my jungle leaps
the hairy lions sliding
Jesus! do I reach

I'm sleeping on a fish that's
pulling lots and lots of line
I'm always reeling in
always reaching out
my circling arms always open wide

Airports are the same
gates slide their canopied beds
Smack! Smacker smacker

Birthday 65

It is just your mist
Cloud trace my face on your clouds
Rain, rain go away!

Journey

secret howls to cross
always meaning/ meant/
mean to cross the paving
stones always meaning/
meant/ mean to fertilize
the billboards/ always meaning/
meant/ mean to fertilize my soul
always mean to cross with the cross

The invisible
The cheap mirror's reflection
Today, I shoot up!

My talents unearthed
I should be nice and fitting
Blue-eyed, without "vig"

Skinny rocks, fishing
the water has no footprints
only wind riffles

Twisting my moustache
Will I ever stop looking?
Fewer in the comb

Set off by the moon
friends walk the shiny mountain
the stars glitter, fade

Walking difficult
halfway up the mountain path
the notes of a flute

I travel the land
a fox set loose for the hunt
catch me, the wind said

Sparrows a' twitter
plum and cherry trees silent
swaying in the wind

The hidden flowers
They each plead for a new dress
Frost with winter, fall

Dandelions float
the green green cemetery
dot yellow yellow

I struggle ridges
you've got your Cadillac
climb my eagle's wings

Mirror mirror fall
gave myself a golden head
masquerading now

Today,tomorrow,
yesterday's brocade of leaves
float my Central Park

The Book
Where's my money?
I want my fuck en money
Yo! you piece of shit!

I fish for talents
I feel the deep flowing earth
Hook line and sinker

California Revisited

"To stand on one leg and prove God's existence is a very different thing from going down on one's knees and thanking him."

"They are cutting out the Bay ferries but it is still not to late to get lost in Oakland."

Yes I'm awake
white cloth and lonely sleep
smack my new bottom

Satori in a peppered crowd

so many rust flakes

in my gravy

Zen Masters Revisited

"My hair's falling fast--this afternoon I'm off to Asia Minor"

"and they have strange license plates and engines that devour America."

Windy

You are as old as old can be!
I am not quite as old as old can be.

Therefore, turn your faceless head and
listen to my stillness.
Three, caress me only when you are warm.
Whoops I'm in the building now. Hope to see
you tomorrow, you tugging, tag a long.
Wait for me"

Fishing Again

"Like a glum cricket the refrigerator is singing"

"O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!...
All mimsy were the borogroves
And the mome raths outgrabe"

Two Falcons

"dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon in his riding
of the rolling level underneath him steady air and striding"

"High in September's frontier winds white
brocade feathers, the Mongol falcon flies
alone, a flake of snow, a hundred miles
some fleeting speck of autumn in its eyes"

Seventeen

Donut clouds
Sugar mountain
My coffee black
as that long Cadillac

Marriage

the marriage of the
farmer in the dell to
Goldilocks is my own
invention

it could be worse
I could have her marry
Count Dracula
but I won't
I'm a realist Ideally as a
farmer's wife Goldilocks could learn
how to milk cows and collect eggs
she would lose some of her pickiness

and does Cinderella really need a
prince? He could turn out to be
Count Dracula
but that's another story

Jungle
no moon
hanging upwards
lean parrots
calling calling
monkeys feeding
"along the white hill
owl floats"
I climb down almost
first time

Thomas
where you once lived has a sign like a big sore nose
and it may date to Look Homeward Angel
And it is basically red
and it basically glows, serving as an exclamation mark
to your so solid bronze plaque by the front door
where, many a night, you stumbled in from the cold

Eve,
the trees itch, they always do
grounded fruit calling to me,to you,
always to you, to blessed you,
to beautiful you, to lovely, lovelorn you
woman who had no choice
woman now with a choice

let me toast you with a sip of wine,
will you sip too?
yes, a cup of wine me,
a cup of wine you
always always beautiful
always lovelorn you

Eve,
the trees itch, they always do.
Grounded fruit that calls to me, to you,
always to you, to blessed you, to beautiful you,
to lovely, lovelorn you,
woman who had no choice you,
woman now with a choice you.

Let me toast you with a sip of wine,
you will sip too?
Yes, a cup of wine me, a cup of wine you?
Always beautiful you
always lovelorn you.

Erica says

I never asked a rose to push up
I never asked a rose for push-push
But many rosebuds asked me for push-push
And I never asked them to be pink
Do you like them pink?
Apple red? Or would yoou prefer a peach?
A sunny velvet-ity peach?

Fishing

"Receiveth as the sea nought enters there
of what validity and pitch soe'er
but falls into abatement and low price
even in a minute..."

"In the deep bosom of the sea buried"

"A thousand men that fishes gnawed upon
wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
inestimable stones, unvalued jewels
all scattered in the bottom of the sea."

"Your mind and you are our Sargasso sea...
you are a person of some interest, one comes
to you and takes strange gain away...."

The Sailor

I bring a sailor thirsting for more wine
let him tell you stories of whales and men
"Sailing? Pirates? They're near Hawaii.
Whales mating, that's your biggest problem.
It's just the way they do the dirty deed.
To mate, they swim about five miles apart
but, god bless 'em, they can't see too well.
So, if you are sailing in a small boat
the whales can mistake you for their true love
and come at you like horny express trains.
Smack! Belly to belly they mate in air
and man in the middle is a hard spot-
birds of the air may nest in your branches."

Shade Ophelia

You were tender,you were savage, dear lord
and silly parrots play drums, kettle drums;
Oh, noble, lovely, cruel thought-smitten prince;
I say away, away you, away drums,
for only the quietness speaks goodnight
and only my dreams are clad in mourning.

Perusing Rexroth

"The clitoris is present in all animals. Sometimes, as in the female hyena,it is quite large."

"It is as though a cloud enclosed me,lucid, dense, solid, polished like a diamond forged by the sun. We entered the eternal pearl which took us as water takes a ray of light, uncleft."

The Poem as Memo


Affection,approval,recognition, self-confidence:
"never,never, forget" the king said. You will though,"
said the queen,"if you don't make a memorandum of it."

My Attempts at recalling the haiku that the younger housekeeper inadvertently tossed

The night of lawn
the wet dew unseen
but coldly there.
Reach out red star.

Saw the dew tilt
the cherry blossom
Saw the sun with morning.

The lawn in night,
wet dew, coldly seen.
Sun! My flower rises!

Saturday morning,in bed.
I am half asleep- like fine wine or
like the moon. Dandelion! Tickle me!

Goat on a Hill

I love to love love
I love to love
I love
I love to love love

And somewhere, somehow, father,
I might love you.

I Love Lucy

I imagine Lucille Ball--all eyes and mouth-eating a seven foot piece of spaghetti when a tiger enters.

Lucy: "Tiger, tiger burning bright in thr forest of the night."

Tiger: Grrr

Lucy: "You have another red sauce that you're fond of?"

The Journalist

Yes, I write about feelings and with feeling that I don't feel: the rain yesterday,mom's broom closet,the man who did the lawn.

Real juicy stuff, but just a warm-up. What really matters has goal posts or four (count 'em) bases. Rained out. Rain yesterday--go tell my editor that one!And you'll end up living in mom's broom closet with the guy who does the lawn.

Hey! A story! With my mom's broom you will sweep the series! A lead! Right out of the closet, mom's closet!

TIMES SQUARE


They advance, they retreat,flow,give,
take, they tell of wars,celebrations,
deaths,births,ball scores. They
always turn corners,they are as tangible as the old tug
they decorate.
Others, from the square riggers, descend,
light, ignite. At Toys R' Us, they tell of the
origin of silly putty,the millions of color
combinations of Rubic's cube, the length of
Slinky and its wire size.
They are usually white, always bright. This is
America, this is Times Square, the heart and
soul of America. This is where, year after year,
the ball drops.

SIN IN CAMELOT

We studied the mileage
On her car. For:
"Love-roof, silk-thread
crotch and vine."
Rocking in Boston,
Philadelphia PA. We took her deep in
The heart of Texas and across
The new USA
Your squirrel was on his shoulder
"The sniff of green
Leaves and dry
Leaves."
If you shoot a squirrel
In the shoulder you
Will not spoil the meat.
Enter the frog king,
"Did you/he/she it
Shoot his wad on you?"
Aw shoot, "I and this my story
Here we stand."


By Norman Clayton

MELVILLE AND THE F TRAIN

Drowned names
scratched by soon
drowning sailors.
Yo Maria! Yo!
Your black roots
still clutch your
opened thighs, your
scarred, etched and
tortured thighs. Look!
Enter scarred me,
tortured me, who finds
black huor in the
stained stainless steel,
the fluorescent light,
shining now, at midnight,
underneath the East River.

by Norman Clayton