WOA Zoom-William Carr Feature-June 22nd, 2020

Bill Carr Feature-June 22nd, 2020

And More Bill Carr…..

The Boy Has Some Dogs

Blue Soul by Bill Carr

 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
targets for the sick  in heart                           
  For a stiff hard dart
 
  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
• Vanishes 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}
 
 
 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 globins, singing witches, laughing zebras criss-crossing trains pulsating
•  Gyrating further to far end of the globe on my bed…lum.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 AMAZINGINGLY RISING ABOVE THE LONG HIGH HILLS AND FOG ENCIRCLING THE REDDEST CAMP FIRES WITH  DANCING GERONIMO, SINGING COHISE AND PRAYING CRAZY HORSE,CRYING ROBERT KENNEDY AND HIS BROTHER JOHN,PREACHING MARTIN AND MALCOM,PROTESTING CESAR CHAVEZ,OBJECTING BARBERA JORDAN ALL IN MOTION…AROUND THE CAMP FIRES UNLIKE THE MODERN LAND BOUND BROOM DRIVING WEAPONLESS WARRIORS OF THE 20TH CENTURY GIRTH.
.
•   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 FLOPING DUTIES
•   FROM 9 A.M. TO 5 P. M. BUBBLES’S 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
•   UNTL 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 MALCON OF GERONIMO OF COHISE OF CRAZY HORSE OF BIG BUBBLE BALD HEAD SR III
VI.
•  DOWN WENT THE CLIFFS AND STEEP HILLS
•  DOWN  HE THREW DOWN THE BLUE DETERGINE 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 DO-DO
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 Channel 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
•  Tambling over the land
•  She sends
•  Virgins 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 breaths 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



Bio

Bill believes in the long poem. The poems that travel down unknown roads and paths, twists and turns, where only imagination can travel blind.It is always grand joy, a desire to pursue for some pass on dramatic skills. We who look to teach others can always distinctly remember how proud those elementary school teachers made them feel when each child performed his/her school work to the best of his/her abilities. The goal of all good teachers and poets is to inspire their future students to perform their skill set to the best of their abilities.My interest in a teaching career continued through my college days at the University of California, Davis.

While at Davis, I majored in English and participated in many forensic events such as plays, poetry readings, and speaking events.During my junior year at Davis, I was awarded a fellowship to [attend any of ten Schools in the Calfornia University system and earn a masters degree. After I was awarded the fellowship, I spent my remaining time at Davis developing my academic skills and preparing for graduate Study. Upon graduation from U.C. Davis, I enrolled in California State University, Sacramento, in the Masters Program, I earned my Masters degree in English language and literature. Immediately after earning my Masters Degree, I obtained both a Community College teaching credential and an Emergency teaching credential and I began to teach professionally.We who have spent  years in teaching and counseling at both the elementary school and junior college levels learn the importance of communication skills. This experience teaches all that the world of instruction is rewarding, yet demanding. Students come to realize that the journey can be both demanding and rewarding in ways that they had never before imagined. While the learning of a new skill set  may appear to an outsider to be tedious and monetarily unrewarding, students find the skill set accomplishment of great joy . Truly.it is the educational trek that powers gaining of the storytelling and poetic skills.

This article was written by todd

BIO: Current self-published author/writer. Blogger, Open Mic Host, Former social studies teacher, social worker, and railroad worker who is no longer in the wage and salary industrial complex so feels free to improvise. www.writersontheair.com

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