Sailing On The Surreal Sea
Page 1
Sailing On The Surreal Sea
By Duffy Laudick
Copyright Duffy Laudick 2012
Table of Contents:
Cool, Blue…Jazz
The Passion of Love
Changing Seasons
Surreal Dreamscapes
Hot Tango Nights
My Melting Thoughts
The Beauty of the Beasts
About the Author
Cool, Blue… Jazz
Acid rock trip
makes me long for the menthol taste
of that cool blue jazz
~~~~~
Sweet saxophone blues
play on the airwaves
then disappears like morning dew
~~~~~
Groovin’ bass and drums
cool piano laying it down
hot summer jazz, man!
~~~~~
Trombones slide
Sax’s harmonize
swing with me
~~~~~
Menthol cool jazz
billows over me
leaving that sad solo behind
lingering in the taste of my tears
Back To The Top
*****
The Passion of Love
Your kisses
a warm breeze
that flutters the leaves
under the tree we lay
~~~~~
Quiet breeze
kisses your cheeks
smiling
~~~~~
Do you remember slow dancing
with that hot date
during that long fast night?
~~~~~
Loves beautiful face
a kiss from the breeze
moon glows bright
~~~~~
When I look at you
I have loved you forever
never ending light
~~~~~
Rapid pulse, blood flows
hands grip, sweat drips down, soft moans
Touch of heaven in your arms
~~~~~
Heaven Bound
Guard down, heaven bound
you and I.
All it takes is a flick of the wrist, a twist
fingers intertwined.
Jump up, jump down, the rise and fall
my heartbeat revved on high.
Guard down, heaven bound
just this once.
~~~~~
Clothes lying on the floor
bed sheets are all a mess
moaning in another room.
~~~~~
Reflective glow
your form casts shadows
evening slumbers await
~~~~~
Breath held
electrified kiss
passion races
~~~~~
With my Glenn Miller swing
and your Billie Holliday blues
what beautiful music we could make in our room
~~~~~
Rainbow Painted Sky
Rain drops fall
from a rainbow painted sky
to wash away
tears from your face
and watch the world brighten
as a smile splashes across your face.
~~~~~
Warm slumbers dawn
a blissful smile shows
with you asleep, dreaming next to me
~~~~~
Shining lights warms
the truth lies within us
truth in love
~~~~~
Rose petals cling
to the disheveled bed sheets
and to you
~~~~~
Lost, ocean of dreams
pleasures crash upon the beach
your warmth under the sheets
~~~~~
To Give and Receive
One thousand rose petals I offered to you
one thousand pieces of music I have played to you
one thousand sonnets I wrote for you
one thousand “I love you” I have said to you
are nothing compared to the love you have given me.
Back To The Top
*****
Changing Seasons
Tonight
Tonight,
People are going out to be with friends
people are going out to be alone
Tonight,
Someone is going on their first date
someone is going on their last
Tonight,
Someone is going to have a baby
someone is going to make one
Tonight,
Someone will take their first drink
someone will take their last breath
Tonight,
One era will end
a new era will begin
Tonight,
I will go to sleep in one year
and wake up in a new one
~Happy New Year!
December 31st, 2011
~~~~~
Once green trees longing
to spread their leaves and give shade
to warm birds nesting
~~~~~
As God’s eye watches
winters protector sinks down
to rise in the south
~~~~~
As I look out my window, I see the world covered in a blanket of white ice crystals.
The image fills peoples’ minds with dread. Too cold, too slippery, frozen, death.
But underneath that cold hard ground lays the seed of our future. It slumbers away, waiting for the life giving water that will soon soak down, beckoning it to grow.
“Push yourself up,” says the once frozen snow, “and bring happiness once again to the world. Fill it with your life and let it spread.”
~~~~~
March winds start to blow
kids with cash head to the store
time to fly a kite
~~~~~
My sweat beads
fingers claw, dirt moves aside
my garden grows
~~~~~
Summer showers cool
the Earth takes a breath
quenching its thirst
~~~~~
The geese are huddled
to keep warm while the wind blows
they should have flown south
~~~~~
The falling snow flakes
winters first kiss, trees frosted
noses glow bright red
~~~~~
Pure white snow falls down
sleds carried, hills to be found
winter wonderland
~~~~~
Frozen Hill
a young boy plays war
all alone
Back To The Top
*****
Surreal Dreamscapes
Used To Fly In Another Life
Some wanna be hip soccer mom plays Korn a little too loud on the radio,
while in the back teenage boys rest and dream about girls panties around their knees,
and outside a dog plays all alone.
Over head a jet flies away to some far and distant land called Trenton New Jersey,
a baby cries wanting it’s mother’s milk and ends up sucking dead air,
and the DJ has nothing to say.
A pigeon who used to fly in another life,
still makes bombing runs on Abe Lincoln’s head
and the ambulance runs away for its life.
An old man watch's life pass him by sitting on a bench,
wishing he was once again in the back of a soccer mom’s van,
and the TV falls asleep in its static bliss.
The world spins and twists in its unending danc
e,
the universe says sit still, but we get too old to before we finally hear it,
and the rivers cut down the mountains down to size.
~~~~~
Noir
My mind is a jumble
like an old black and white film
scratched and jumping around
with bad narration and too many shadows
and a scream for help in the distance
with a gunshot echo
~~~~~
Emptiness Of You
Kerouac dreams abiding
to reach out from the void
and to touch the emptiness of you.
Light pulses from above
flashing your smile
and fades into the night.
Surreal visions unfold
our hands melt into one
as we pass into the great bliss.
~~~~~
Splashes
Decadent seats from executive sweets
they can never polish away that lustful shine
and their shame spilled on the carpet
the helpless millions cleaned dry
the tear that was imagined
in the despots’ eye
~~~~~
Rainbows aflame
crème filled sun
surrealist dream
~~~~~
Lost Love
Rusty dusty record spins around
with a tango full of sin
overhead, the moon glows bright
watching me as I take you in my arms
searching for that lost kiss
you dropped on a winding path
that long summer ago.
~~~~~
The Great Abyss
The record sits there, spinning endlessly. I was afraid what it might say, or maybe I wasn’t ready for what it had to say. Now is the time, no time like the future, operators are standing by to take your order, but wait…there’s more!
The needle goes into the groove, the speakers hum and the ears ring. Barbarian jazz seems to play. It starts to skip, skip like it’s trying to go down some yellow brick road wanting to find its savior or maybe a nice cup of tea. Number nine?
Out of the vibrating speakers seeps out profound wisdom. It melts the transistors inside my head and reprograms the mind’s eye. I finally understand the great abyss I see when I look into the mirror each morning. Turn the record over.
On and on it plays, auto repeat set and what every kid should already know I finally get. It’s so simple, why didn’t anyone say? The needle comes off and the arm is put to rest. Maybe it’ll be easier to play the next in the set. Outstretched my hand goes, to the next set in the collection of life.
~~~~~
Voices
The voices in my head
are now telling me
to switch to Geico
so I can save a bunch of money.
They want me to buy a better life
so that they will stop seeing
pop-ups of Sham-wow ads
and Billy Mays haunting
in my dreams.
~~~~~
Women wearing June Cleaver dresses and Betty Davis eyes,
I imagine silk stockings encasing those thighs.
Time to loosen the tie and tilt back the hat,
and go get take out so we can eat in.
You and I are going to jive, we’re going to swing
papa loves his mama and well go on all night,
just so that we get to turn off those city lights.
Men wearing fedoras and ties
women in Greta Garbo dresses, with a Katherine Hepburn attitude.
Gangsters hang in dark shadows, waiting to do their Bogart entrance.
and Louis is asking where we got those eyes on the jukebox.
a perfect night to dance and swing.
~~~~~
Cleopatra
I saw Cleopatra in New York,
a beautifully raped queen.
She was painting neo-hieroglyphs in black lacquer,
with the street bums in the brightest of night.
Offering praises to the golden corporate arches,
receiving promises of fame and fortune,
in the dirty ghetto that is always just around the corner.
With her army of jobless politicians,
they marched down those black licorice roads,
searching for your secrets,
that you keep behind closed doors.
And promising of a better life for you,
sometime soon,
but not before their three month vacation they have to take.
The last tragedian on bended knee
promising Cleopatra eternal bliss,
only to be trample by the Clowns of Chaos
on their way to the big sell off,
just down the street.
As TV’s fall asleep in their static filled bliss
Cleopatra takes that long ride, Central Park East,
feeding pigeons with all the other creative beats
wondering where nothingness went
having forgotten the taste of their strawberry field.
Twist the dagger and lift you up
entropy ensued, Wall Street fell down,
as the sun god rose above the spires
left us begging for more.
Cleopatra says today is the day
to pay tribute to the faceless name,
and the fame they could have had
only if they died when they turned thirty-three
on the set of some dark noir charade.
~~~~~
Divine intervention is what you wished
your shot at heaven has been missed
your long walk into hell
is the path you know so well
for from its depths your were birthed
and ill placed on this earth
just so you can tear out my heart
I am so glad that we can now part.
~~~~~
Existential troubadour
how can you be so happy
when your abstract self doesn’t exist
~~~~~
I Heard It On The Airwaves
I heard it on the airwaves
that the politicians are now priests,
giving sermons in our bedroom
just before they mount me,
and the Clowns of Chaos ponder
which golden rod they should polish
so they can get the best seat in town.
What better party can be had
when greenbacks are passed from hand to hand
just as easily as crack whores pipe
outside the Four Seasons hotel
and the Clowns of Chaos ponder
how easy it would be
to tell the truth even if it was a lie.
~~~~~
Clowns of Chaos
Clowns of Chaos Come
We consume their lies, fresh meat
Election year again.
Clowns of Chaos stand
News crews, zombie like us all
salivate, can't wait.
Clowns of Chaos go
Battles won, now to get paid
From our pockets gold.
Clowns of Chaos reign
but want to return if they may
and campaign again someday.
~~~~~
Square
What made you change your mind,
you sat with us, acting as the the last stand-up tragedian
listening to Brubeck,
jamming to Kerouac,
and sipping martini twisters.
Now you sit there, afraid of the change
that you wanted back in the day.
The money in the bank, is your new musical beat
You welcome the clowns of chaos in
and they get fat on the truth of your lies,
as I look at you, on the big TV screen,
&n
bsp; I wonder how you got so square.
~~~~~
The fanfare has reverberated
dying against the cold stone walls
promises of peace and life
lay crumbling on the rotting floor.
Darkened is this day
and hell finally has its sway
that shall bring you back to my door.
~~~~~
Circus of Dreams
The three ring circus of dreams
pours in from the night
while the ring master, a real stand-up tragedian
practices his verse and prose
white faced clowns with sad blue eyes
lament the laughter that passed them by,
while the lion tamer whips himself into a frenzy
the bearded lady’s hair turns grey
an elephant I saw in my pajamas
but how it got into my pajamas I’ll never know
spoke the black faced freak
while the young violinist
played with her feet.
~~~~~
Technicolor Jazz
Technicolor jazz
melts my minds fatal noir landscape
while Kerouac beats call out from the abyss.
The last stand-up tragedian hoping to take his final bow,
is told about the all you can eat buffet
over at the King's Table, he makes a killing.
The soul coughed
and God punched out at 5
echoing in the abyss.
All that can be drank is drunk
all my beds have been made
and I am too tired to dig my own grave.
To the sad clown who was wandering
looking to make a killing
I told him to find an all you can eat buffet.
~~~~~
Graffiti
The stand-up tragedian
takes his place
under the black spotlight
brightly showing his shame
rolling down his cheek
and into a dream
only to give the pregnant a pause
before the long night laughing
and life's graffiti has etched
its' sin on our soul.
~~~~~
Guts
With a million dollar delight,
passed away through the night.
you should have played that ace,
but instead you fell on your face.
with your guts filled with dread,
they’re going to use you to paint the town red.
So ends your life as a wise guy,
for ever shall you look over your shoulder and say bye bye.
Back To The Top
*****
Hot Tango Nights
Accordion bellows
Violin crescendos, wait
Lovers entwined, Tango
~~~~~
Dark smoky room
the spot light shines down
two to tango
~~~~~
Stepping in cadence
Astor’s music carries them on
it’s always time for tango
~~~~~
The bandoneón
concertina is grown up
tango was its dream
~~~~~
Bodies in motion
hands clasped, eyes stare, feet move
per chance to tango
~~~~~
Electronic tango machine
compress the dance to bits and bytes
forever riding a carrier wave
~~~~~
Hot tropical night
tension, sweat drips, bodies move
it’s time to tango
~~~~~
Bandoneón exhales
waiting for the lovers’ next step