Blue cracks mental me
Abstractions riding my soul
Today they are gone

Eyes on the white lambs
fresh prime rib choice cut visions
Mothered by rams



Eyeballs on her hips Her tight thighs are round targets
For my stiff hard darts




Whispering into his mind
Leave those thoughts behind
He heard the soft wind

Curving red train tracks

Blue veins twisting down old cracks
Needing to “detrain”

Blue ocean so cool

Roll through my long icy throat
twirling spray upon

Brilliant bright pupils

Milk white and red inner eyes
Johnny sings the blues

Books drop from the sky

Novels water the Earth’s soil
Wet to my armpits

American child

winter’s hot and summer’s cold
Inhale the white snow

Living in the cold

winter builds up hard crystals
reflecting by the moon

Purple sunglasses

The bottomless pit

Satanic society
Run by the Moloch

The goat looking down

Wondering when to descend
Into this old town

Dogs landing like cats

The cats smelling cheese like rats
Rats eaten by me

Twirling down steel tracks

A whirling north towards the sea
To see the full world

Rough men at road work

clearing the rocky mud path
With each mighty stroke

Bubbles beneath skin

Lake fire with blue visions
Cleansing mind devils



In the face of hate
The soft sweet hands of the sun
Warming cheeks and hands

mother of real truth

father in the blue shadows
holy ghost power

A loud evening sound

Dogs are all around, talking
With people, howling

Generation gone

Never far from their cell phones
And text messages

Ocean cascade

Eyes full of silver crystals
Apex sky rising

From rainbow droplets

splashing upon hitting ground
Cleansing ,smoking brains

The Moonshine nightmare

The cat dives under black sun
The dog’s resting place

A bus ride round town

Slow trek throughout a square street
circular city

The big dark black dog

Plays poker and rolls dice well
No match for snake-eyes

The purple creatures

With invisible features
Vanish in smoke

Soul shoes foot dancing

Full of James Brown stomp prancing
And black and white shouts

She rose from the tomb

Slow as the drinking full moon
weeping in the sun

Night rider glides home

He Stops to smell a rainbow
In the pouring rain

Black horse white pony tail

new modern zebra hybrid
Rides into the sun

The Earth’s ride

i.

It was just another Sunday morning blow job
And the headache would pass as swift as the new
Monday morning coming{and I needed some me-di-cine}

ii.

The flu had caused the most terrible of effects within my face that of running mucus from the nose.
But I blew my nose and said no more.
Everything was just fine for awhile. Then,
The hacking midnight pirate arrived and
Dropping with every passing hour his anvil on my head, so I took more medicine to subdue the cough.[me-di-cine]

iii.

The night was good and hot as well as cold and mean;full of boogers drops working their way about my body’s stream.
I put one oar in the water for balance;it
Drew a shark who snapped it off. I could
Smell viscid fluid in my mouth flowing
To my stomach and the increasing pounding of my brain, so I took more
[med-i-cine].I had to stop the hacking cough, tapping tummy pop, and the hammering head throb, so I took more mee-dii-cine].

iv.

“The iron tongue of Midnight struck”
“All lovers to bed,” I dozed.
Then the dusk came. I awoke in water vomit surrounded by the Atlantic, Arctic,
Pacific, Indian and sweat oceans, so
I took some more [mmee-di-ccine].

v.

I oozed my way through the liquid and puss.
Phlegm flying from my mouth;
Waste ready for dumping from the boat’s
Bottom. I sat up in the bed rocking and
Rolling:back and forth,calling for an anchor
To be thrown over board!

vi.

The boat disappeared replaced by fear.
The ghost darts around the bed in the darkest part of the room.
It’s in black and white.
I paddle hard heading for shore,
Looking for another dose of medicine.

vii.

The figure looms over me beginning a movement towards the left: a series of shadows and clouds are my eyes.
A roar from the universe pulled over to the right.
Circling the room with wide sweeping scans moving out of frame.
My medicine need I

viii.

Darting goblins, singing witches, laughing zebras criss-crossing trains pulsating
Gyrating further to far end of the globe on my bed…lam.This rubber legged crew member attempts stance rewarded by a splash to boat’s bottom.

[mee-di-ci-ine took I]

ix.

I arise again to breath. Quickly,on my knees crawling down the hall
Through a worm hole

x.

A long linear corridor conversing merging
With whales and stars into a single vision
Within my eyes the Earth sky and it’s as blue as my soul.

BUBBLE’S BALD HEAD
I.

AS THE MIST CLEARS THE MOUNTAINS, THEIR BROWN SKINS AND DARK SHADOWS MAY BE SEEN AMAZINGLY RISING ABOVE THE LONG HIGH HILLS AND FOG ENCIRCLING THE REDDEST CAMP FIRES WITH DANCING GERONIMO, SINGING COCHISE AND PRAYING CRAZY HORSE, CRYING ROBERT KENNEDY AND HIS BROTHER JOHN, PREACHING MARTIN AND MALCOLM, PROTESTING CESAR CHAVEZ, OBJECTING BARBARA JORDAN ALL IN MOTION…AROUND THE CAMP FIRES UNLIKE THE MODERN LAND BOUND BROOM DRIVING WEAPONLESS WARRIORS OF THE 20TH CENTURY GIRTH.
ii.
UNTIL ONE DAY, BUBBLE EYES ROSE UPWARD, TOWARDS THE MOUNTAINS AND VIEWING MANY SHADOWS, BUT QUICKLY RETURNS TO HIS EARTH SOUND TASK OF BROOM PUSHING, MOP DRIVING, WAX FLOPPING DUTIES
FROM 9 A.M. TO 5 P. M. BUBBLES’ JANITORIAL HAUL MUST CONTINUE;
MONDAY THROUGH FRIDAY ON HIS FEET, WITH KNEES AGAINST KNEES AND HANDS PRESSING FLOOR GLORY: NORTH BY NORTH WEST.
IT’S HIS JOB SWEEPING FLOOR TOPS: BRIGHT, DUSTING THE PEEKS OF HILLS UNTIL THE VERY CRISS/CROSS SHINES
HE’S A BLEACH BLUES MAN …PRAYING ON THE KNEES
UNTIL YOU CAN SEE JESUS
AND AT 11.95 AN HOUR THERE IS THE LEMON PLEDGE SMELL THAT MUST RADIATE FROM THE VALLEY’S FLOOR.

YOU CAN HEARD THE OLD MAN SAY: “GOTS TO GET CLEAN, LORD
GOTTA GET IT CLEAN ‘CAUSE MASTER GONE UH BE HERE IN SETTING DAY”


III.
SO ON THE OLD MAN BUBBLE SCRABBLED, SCUBBLED
HE HAD TO GET RID OF THE SINGING FROM THE MOUNTAIN PEEKS
THE VAPOR DANCING OVER THE WOODEN FLOORS
FOR HIS JOB DEPENDED ON THE CLEAR WHITE FLOOR
AND THE BOSSMAN SAYING IT WAS SO
IV.
MR. EDISON ARRIVED ON TIME AN DROVE HIS HUMMER ABOUT THE FLOOR KILLING BUGS AND SPITTING
THEN WITH A EAR FULL OF MOUNTAIN SONG HE SAID DO IT AGAIN , OLD MAN
THE SONG IS WRONG
V.
THE OLD MAN’S EYES THEN EARS ROSE TOWARDS THE INDIAN SONGS
ABOVE THE CLOUDS INTO THE VERY PUPILS OF THE ELDERS OF MARTIN OF MALCOLM OF GERONIMO OF COCHISE OF CRAZY HORSE OF BIG BUBBLE BALD HEAD SR III
VI.
DOWN WENT THE CLIFFS AND STEEP HILLS
DOWN HE THREW DOWN THE BLUE DETERGENT WITH WHITE BLEACH
DOWN WENT THE AJAX AND COMET
DOWN WENT DOWN THE EXTRA LONG HANDLED MOP THAT HIS DADDY HAD BROUGHT HIM
DOWN CAME THE ROLLING MOUNTAIN PEEKS
LANDING IN ONE LARGE PILE OF DOO-DOO
VII.
BUBBLE KICKED THE BUCKET
DROPPED THE WAXER AND WALKED
AWAY INTO THE CLEARING MIST
OF DUN


The Earth Smell
i.
She smells like the earth at all times of the passing moon
Likes to walk about in her underwear
Pushing against the wind’s crying warning
With that fresh earth smell of hers…
Depositing it where ever she goes… on an arm, on a stomach, on the face, on the leg or any place on planet earth.
ii.
She sweats in Chanel No. 19 and when all becomes calm, she takes that 6 a.m. yawn: the big breath inhaling in Africa, exhaling out of Europe. She’s full of air throughout her lungs; is full of water within her throat; full of land under her feet.
iii.
Whirling air
Spinning water
Tumbling over the land
She sends
Virgin ocean tides against old rock of ages;
High pressure centers bouncing off low;
Dirt careening off of boulders
iv.
In time, all shall mountain down to the smallest of hills and the earth smell shall hover above the earth. And her soulful droplets shall drop from the nose like falling rain to the ground to be absorbed by the soil and soul and only the earth hounds know—the scent.
v.
Blue blood dogs endlessly chasing the stuff from her nose keeping up a powerful pace compelled by her aura. Blue blood dogs seeing red while keeping the beat in the warning wind with the half moon moving to full.
vi.
Now, she breathes more heavily, for the moon has reached her full cycle and the dogs have slowed. She turns over grasping a tree branch to blow her nose. And when her nose comes clean and empty, she all at once takes to the sky:
jetting from the earth
blazing from the solar system,
blotting from the universe,
Leaving us poor dogs behind sniffing for the odor of her earth smell.



The blue soul by bill carr
All rights reserved. 02/21/2008
Written, edited and published by bill carr
A special thanks and dedication to penny