Wild Moon Symphony Preview       Kyoti       Back Issues        Comments

Blue Moon, Small Jimmy Warner's Wild Moon Transit
July 00

    music: Tocatta & Fugue in Dmin by Antonio Vivaldi

Summer Symphony

BEACH CAFE                              revised


Beach life starts out lotion down the slant of the back,

and slides into hot pants going beyond to the trance,

the heart of a story lurking in the tide of folks to come.

New faces in the juke-jive fuse with the missing, coarse,

ill-tempered, just back from bad nights and hangovers.


The same love, out for itself, survives the crusty scene,

a mosh with teen divorcées, high on live brass and

tungsten feet multiplied by frozen statues, babes losing it,

misters and mistresses caught wild in the freeze frame.


Up front, they want to pat it down, disarm it as it enters.

Spot the one who’s always at fault, or does something,

forcing his way, pushing a vague problem onto the floor,

one lone figure clueless for a mate, his motives throbbing.

Bouncers watch him, wait for his heart-skip assault.


They eye another face, that slim girl in blue strobe reality.

All man underneath, but she can make herself be anyone.

And there’s an all-too-quiet God T-shirt guy.

Look at his stuffed olive eyes, and sketchy beard,

he could spaz, stalking too many pale horses.


Tragedy and trivia, a broken tile swirl,

a mosaic world falling together on its own,

it reminds me of you, your filed edge,

a blade in the war zone of boring trials.


Tinted glass disguises what people feel,

no clue what might be strange in the air.

You found me hanging at the back of my life

and worked your way forward, stirring, unrelenting,

sweeping over me like a lighthouse far in the night,

searching the shadows all the way to lands end.



New Hope bent on a sky blown tomorrow   

Handle bar events with far-flung news,

The paperboy views a dog’s day each

Day by day, each bite of the cuff, one

Seat of the pants job, overthrow rainbow

Feel of the wet road, newspaper muscles,

Rules of the road left soggy by roadside.


Denizen dogs abide by day, a darkside, 

Nightfall at curbside as cold stars arise,

New hopes bend on sunset glowing, in

Late news blow by blows, runaway wind-

Torn pages go racing for green yardage.

Each day a scourge of lateness carries

My personal abuse uphill to be bruised.


All Hope went to my sky blown tuition    

College kid events with far-out views,

The paperboy portrait as a weary dog 

Day in day out, slipped back in the past, 

My seat of the pants tattooed by rainbow.

Feel of the road, the steering muscles,

Rules of fittest made tame by roadways.



Jimmy's poetry table of contents              ©Jimmy Warner Design,2016

Hit Counter