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Sailing On The Surreal Sea

Duffy Laudick




  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