“Frying Pan Of Gold”

Tax And Duck

Cut The Foul-Mouth Rug

From The Sinking Bug.

Creative Destruction Land Of Dysfunction.

Anything Goes When Laws Explode.

Wankers Agree

Flakes On The Bench

Dig A Deep Kiss-Ass Trench.

Lots Of Fears

In Home-Made Weird.

Never Too Soon When Anger Blooms ─

And Violence Grooms With Tell-Tale Prunes─

Soaked In Gloom.

Right─

Those Hand-Made Brooms

And Silver Spoons,

In Rank Streets Under Dirty Sheets

Eat─ Then Blink.

Freedom Has A Funny Stink.

In Any Kitchen Sink.

Best Be Bold

In A

Frying Pan Of Gold.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

The Dues

Spread The News─

Emperor Loves

Those Wing-Tip Shoes.

They Sparkle In Gritty Times—

Leave Nothing Behind

But The Dirty Shine

Of An Eroding Mind.

Every Phony Verb

Is A Hard Ball Curve

That Gives

That Bruised Cat

A Lying-Brain Attack.

It’s Like─

Riding Anger Laps

In A Bloody Field

Of Red, White, And Blue─

With Num-Nut-Laced

Truths.

While Hatred

Enjoys

The Dues.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Human Under-Tow

Emotions And Intent

Energy In A Psychic Tent.

Thoughts Align

Like─

Lights For The Mind.

But─

Clouds Of Inner Fear

Act Insane

And

Cells Do The Same.

War Is The Game.

When

Choices Grow

From Angry Seeds

Planted In That

Human Under-Tow.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Dirty Diaper Fan

Quick Drying Prints

Thoughts Can Be Wimps.

When A Pot Of Fear

Hangs In Anger’s Rear

And Drops A Load

In Anxieties’ Mode.

Present Power Changes Hours.

In Sour Days

To An Iffy Maze.

Part Of The Plan─

Go,

Wash Them Hands─

Under An Ill-Smelling

Dirty Diaper Fan.

On A Shaky God Train

Shades Of Glory In Every Wanker’s Story─

Thunder Thugs. Political Pugs.

Promises Go Up In Flames.

Trust Has A Phony Name

In A Valley Filled With

Ego-Driven Nerve Pain.

It’s

Just Like A Pack

Of Inner Cells

On The Way To Hell

Cruising Through

A Slippery Swollen Brain

On A Shaky God Train.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Ass-Bent Years

Special Spot On The World’s Pot

Grunts And Groans

With A Garlic Tone.

Golfing Bro Goes Round And Round

Making Angry Sounds ─

Wearing A Nobel Crown.

At A Time When Ally Beefs

Feel Like Crimes

And

Nowhere Near Sublime.

But─

It’s Instant Relief For Swollen Feet

With A Mickey-D-Beat.

All That Waste Has A Bitter Taste.

Cause Bolts Of Fear Skin Dance

In Ass-Bent Years.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

As A Keepsake

Mind’s Open. No Need For Tokens.

Thoughts Rush By ─Just To Be Fly.

Razor Sharpe Hours Shower Internal Flowers

Grasping Beauty As It Unfolds─

You Know─

Praise To The Bee In Its Quest To Be.

Weather’s Never Old. But Love Is Bold.

Nature’s Plan Is A Juicy Chaos Land.

Everything Grand In Mixed Sand.

Pull Up Nasty Stakes

Keep An Eye On The Flakes

When The Body Keeps

Ancient Mental Fakes

As A Keepsake.

www.shortsleeves.net

H.T. Manogue

Years Are Those Things With Feathers

Years Are Those Things With Feathers

That Fly In Nervous Weather.

Emily Said It Best

In A Back-East Poets Fest.

Scratches In Time.

Earth Has Its Own Mind.

Those Who Stray─

Find Notes With Ancient Signs.

Those─

Shake And Bake Alien Rhymes.

Mental Petals Do Survive

In Deep-Brain Dives.

So─

Nothing To Fear In Any Perception Year

When Truth Uses Main Gear.

And Squally Moves

Make The Body Groove.

Happy New Year!

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

In High Tide

Step Back In Time

Body

Has A Mind.

So, Stand On A Holiday Cliff

Watch The Air Drift

Two And Fro ─

Mental Wind’s

Magical, You Know.

Knocks And Frocks

Life’s

Full Of Midnight Tocks.

And

Nylon Socks.

There’s Plenty

Of

Pointed Toe

Clues

When Thoughts

Dream With You.

Get Out

Of The Way.

Enjoy

That Big Christmas

Payday.

Plenty Of Love─

Nowhere To Hide─

When Consciousness

Swims

In High Tide.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Bananas In The Snow

Crossed The Line. Weather’s Fine.

Running From A Dream ─

Ego Got Caught

In The In-Between.

Halfway Up Remembering Hill

Feelings Got Kind Of Chill

Like A Cook In Bed

Eating Frozen

Sourdough Bread.

Then

Brain Steps In

Call It─

Slippery Son Of Sin

And Its Twin.

Heart-Beating Glances

Lots Of Chances.

School Bell Rings

Choir Sings.

When Bullshit Burns

In A Smelly Urn.

And Truth Breaks Wind

While People Hang Low

Like Bananas In The Snow.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

So Be It Thanksgiving

Pulitzer Prize winning poet Gary Snyder wrote the poem So Be It with help from an old Native American (Mohawk) prayer. The poem’s message keeps walking through my mind like an unleased dog looking for the right tree.

The words in the poem fill me with a unique awareness. And a connection to another aspect of my physical and non-physical presence.

So Be It opens a door to a new reality, and I feel that reality surround me. Happy Thanksgiving!

Gratitude to Mother Earth, sailing through night and day-

And to her soil: rich, rare, and sweet.

In our minds so be it!

Gratitude to Plants, the sun-facing light-changing leaf

And fine root hairs, standing still through wind

And rain, their dance is in the flowing spiral grain

In our minds so be it!

Gratitude to Air, bearing the soaring Swift and the silent

Owl at dawn.

Breathe our song

Clear spirit breeze

In our minds so be it!

Gratitude to Wild Beings, our brothers, teaching secrets,

Freedoms and ways; who share with us their milk;

Self-complete, brave and aware

In our minds so be it!

Gratitude to Water: clouds, lakes, rivers, glaciers;

Holding or releasing; streaming through all

Our bodies salty seas.

In our minds so be it!

Gratitude to the Sun: blinding pulsing light through

Trunks of trees,

through mists, warming caves where

Bears and snakes sleep- he who wakes us-

In our minds so be it!

Gratitude to the Great Sky

Who holds billions of stars- and goes yet and beyond that-

Beyond all powers, and thoughts

And yet it is within us-

Grandfather Space

The Mind is his Wife.

So be it

Thanksgiving

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleves.net

Ageless Drug

Wash And Wear

Forget Them Cares.

Trust─ Not Fuss─

Swallows Foggy Air

With Smiling Stares.

Yeah,

All Is Good

Under That

Inner Hood.

Drop The Fears.

And Lonely Years.

Cause Life Is Born

In Cellular Form.

Grease

Your Inner Wheel

It’s Time To Peel

That Camo Rug

From That

Painful Mug.

Sit In Love.

And Be Your

Ageless Drug.

Wrecking Ball Ride

Write All Over The Sky.

Jerk-Off And Fly.

Like An Vulture

On His Way

To A Fish Fry.

Room To Cheat.

Laws Have Cold Feet.

Is That? ─

Having A Blast? Or Just Gas?

Cause It’s

Plenty Of Range

To Act Insane.

Hit A Note.

Fix A Vote

While The World Drifts By

On A Wrecking Ball Ride.

H.T. Manogue

shortsleeves.net

Crooked Signs

Toss It Out Sour Mouth. Spit It Up.

Take A Gulp.

You Can’t Choke On Diet Coke

In A Fit Of Fear

Surrounded By Hat-Wearing Peers.

Suggestive Crowds Act Really Weird

In A Casket Filled With Lawless Cheers.

Anger Talks Loud And Dresses Dirt Proud

In The Middle Of Democracy’s Shutdown.

What’s Hell And Counts In Time?

A Hate-Filled Suggestion Plane

Fit To Fly

Thanks To Our Ignorant Eyes ─

Yeah,

The Holy Scriptures Have Some Twisted Sisters.

They Trap Minds In A Cult-Like Bind

That Squeezes Thoughts

Into A Psyche Line

That Bends The Sublime

With Crooked Signs.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Takes to Bed

Eagle's In A Knot

Right Wing’s Caught

In A Class-Less Pot.

Hey—It’s Like ─

Spiders’ Instant Art.

Home’s A Silky Fart

From The Inside

Where It Begins.

Mixing Finesse

With Gracious Sin.

Cause

Colored Bugs

Have Their Own Kind

Of Mental Tugs

They Fly─

But Not Too High

Like─

Red Ants On The Hill

Swimming In A Tariff Spill.

They Cough Their Way Through

Using A Confusion Pill

To Push The Spread

That Makes The Dread

Anxious Freedom

Takes To Bed.

H.T. Manogue

Crustaceans’ Life

It’s A Crab Crawl History Ball.

Pincher’s Out. Belly’s Stout

From The Worms That Yearn

For A Seat In The Grand Repeat.

Nothing’s Unsaid, So Pass The Bread.

Crumbs Of Life Filled With Spice

Make Crustaceans’ Life Pretty Nice.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Dog Shag Race

Red White And Blue

Lives in A Cloudy-Ass Shoe

Socks Filled With Plenty.

Spiritual Hands Rather Empty.

Guilty Thoughts

Act Like Sores On Religion’s

Confessional Door.

One Choice Forward

Two Leaps Back

Sin Likes To Brew

When Lies Screw

A Time Or Two.

Flag’s Dispose. Hearts Decompose

When Minds Look For A Throne.

With A Shiny Sword

In The Name Of The Lord.

So Break A Little Bread

Say Something Not Said.

Words Like To Wed.

Like Pounding Paws

And Drooling Claws

In A Dog Shag Race.

“Dog Shag Race”

H.T. Manogue www.shortsleeves.net

Truths Do A Flip

Mind Be Told. Lies Are Bold.

No Need For Peace

When Money Acts Like Grease.

People Lose Their Grip

When Voting Is A Power Trip.

Revenge Yells Loud

Mercy Can’t Be Found.

War Fills History’s Blanket

At An Anger Eating

Bombing Banquet.

Nerves On A String

Fearful Thoughts Make Them Sing.

It’s Brain Pain For The Insane.

Inner Sound Pours Loud.

Searching For Right

With Dim Headlights.

Nothing’s Set When Destruction

Takes A Seat With Muddy Feet.

Cause Violence Likes To Boast

When Negative Beliefs

Crack The Whip

And Truths Do A Flip.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Filled With Flies

Double Jerk Night

Fame And Fright.

One Likes Might

The Other Banks On Bytes.

Shred The Sand In Their Plan

If You Can.

Crabs Do It Best

When Water Makes A Mess.

Insipid Thoughts Turn

Like A Spinning Urn

Hatched From Ancient Burns.

Bleeding Ashes Tell The Tale.

Body Feels Like A Jail

In A Sea Of Disbelief

Full Of Gritty

Bullshit Grief.

Forget The Foggy Goons

That Spit Out Gloom.

Like Striped Cats Licking

Half-Eaten Pie

Filled With Flies.

Faked Its Load

Twirling Rabbit Has Raunchy Habits

Makes That Body Looks Bent With A

Double D Wing-Tip Scent

And A Mouth Full Of Tweets.

That's A Scary Beat.

Cause—

Hawks Squawk About Pocketing Money

On The Way To The Blank

With All Things That Stank.

Hey―

Phony Images

Are A Crash-Filled

Separation Sign.

Cause Anger Wants More

When Any War Makes A Score.

Fear Turns To Roar.

Vengeance Dresses To Lore.

Hanging On Picky Vines

With No Shine

Like A Piece Of Fools Gold

That Faked Its Load.

H.T. Manogue