Capitalistic Drain

Bloody Footprints Sink In Sand

Ancient Stories Guts And Glory─

Grand Plans ─ Holy Lands.

Power In The Holes

Moon Surely Knows.

Plenty Of Feet Dream Of Peace

But Angry Birds Want The Last Word.

Sharp And Coarse

In That─

Choices Chopping Voice.

Awareness Rides

In Flames.

On An Never-Ending

Burning Plain.

Circling

That

Capitalistic Drain.

H.T. Manogue

Cries For Rain

Blood’s On The Road.

Thoughts Explode

Like Bombs For Peace

And

Screaming Dead Geese.

Lessons Old─

Anger Blows

And

Death Makes Us Crow

History Tells Us So.

Stuck On Repeat ─

Mind Skips Lots Of Beats─

Contentment Woes

Battled Weary Toes

What’s To Gain

When Love

Cries For Rain?

H.T. Manogue

Shortsleeves.net

Grandad’s Rusty Mental Truck.

Top Of The Line

Ego’s

Ready And Primed.

Tickle That Pride

Cause─

Sanity Tells Lies.

So─

Step On The Gas

Watch That Ass.

Point Of Power

Is Any Hour─

Proof Sits In You.

Ignorance Has Instant Glue.

Aliens Times Two

Religion Gulps A Few.

Politics Has The Fess-Up Flu

When─

Fear Rides A Saucer

Looking For

That Perfect Cup

In─

Grandad’s Rusty Mental Truck.

Shortsleeves Dot Net

H.T. Manogue

Half-Grown

Loud And Useless

What’s The Plan?

Changing Piers─

With Dominant Worldly Peers?

Democracy Is Like A Fall

Caught In An Epic Brawl

Because─

Beliefs Tie Slippery Knots.

They Try To Give You

Something They’re Not.

Right?

You Know─

Get Down On Them Knees

Bow To Nothing With Fleas.

Ants Like To Tease

When─

Stumps Are Trees

With Brown Leaves.

Yep─

Honesty Looks For A Home.

And Deceit Loves Life

Half-Grown.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

Runny Nose

Listen To The Sound Of Air

When Human Thoughts

Turn Bare.

Or─

While Shaving Mental Hairs.

Drop A Positive Pin

In That Brainy Whim

And Look Deep Within.

Go─

Un-Dress Ego’s Frum

Have Some Inner Fun.

Cause─

Beliefs Flow Through

That Bubbling Brook

Your Mind Took.

Looking For─

An Aurati Glow Head To Toe.

So Remember─

Truth Never Erodes

From A Vocal

Runny Nose.

H.T. Manogue

www.shortsleeves.net

“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