Beer Notes


Poetry scribbled
on bar napkins,
should be left
there.

It somehow
loses its tone
typed out
neat and
pretentious.

No longer
smeared with beer
and ashes;
it somehow
loses sight
of its origin,
the simplest
naked moment,
the purpose behind
its circumstance;

a truly honest
(drunken)
slur.

adieu..........

It is with a fond farewell i put this blog to rest……. it has accomplished its original intent……. i wanted simply to learn what web logging was all about…… my young girls were so into it that i needed to see the how’s and why’s….. and i understand the sharing now and the fact that it is exponential in form…. it’s been a fun trip and I will visit my new friends on a semi-regular basis… thank you all for participating in my strange little world…… i will leave you with a simple poem....................................................




Laurels


He's lost the passion
in his poems
there was the time
words
would spew out
hotter 'an any jalapeño
would flow
as imperfect
as any mountain brook
tumble
and roll

I used to pan for gold
in that brook
find my next beer
in its precious dust
spit the pepper seeds
between my teeth

You just ain't got it
any more
i say

you know...

the passion

as he frowns back at me
through the bathroom mirror

Tomas

holiday spirit?

dang..... 2 posts in one day...... 'sup w/that ?

SO

there's this guy

in our neighborhood

from down the hill

who walks his dog

from his car

we live on a dead-end street

and every now and then

while i sit outside

smoking a ciggie

he'll drive by

at like 5 mph

dog trotting along the street

he

talking on his cell

dog
lifting his leg

now and again

SO

this dog is as grey in the chops

as this guy in the car

and

yeah

well

maybe it is a little chilly outside

this time of year

yet even with the odds at

7 to 1

i'm betting on the dog

Tomas

Hypocrite

Ultimatum

I gave my wife
an ultimatum
the other nite

it was stupid
built exponentially
frustration to the nth power


thing is
i HATE
ultimatums

tell me

this…

or…

and I’ll choose

or…

every time

if nothing else
outa’ spite

i gave my wife
an ultimatum
the other nite
doesn’t matter what it was
nothing (ultimately) matters

i was happy when she accepted my apology
and so very proud of her
when she chose

or…


Tomas

Perceptions

in Looking out



to touch
is to
perceive
as bubbles fighting
to reach the surface
descending panic
in ascending motion
whole
and spherical
and silent
rushed to break
the water's edge
and vanish!




Tomas

Annual Thanksgiving Day poem

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. I truly reflect on all I have to be thankful for. (well there is the food and the beer as well !!)



Thanks Given


i am thankful for my new home
safe and warm and cozy

thank you Karla
for opening your mind and letting your perfect spiritual self inside
and for declaring our love by marriage
i love you
i adore you

thank you Emma Claire
for the artistic and creative spirit you bring into my life
and reminding me that age is not a definition

thank you hannaH
for sharing secrets with me... trusting your 'step-dad'
and for every single hug you have given me (physical or otherwise)

thank you mom
for molding me in such a wild and good natured and wondrous manner
you ARE the best

thank you to my siblings for all your love and...

Anna.... for being the pillar of reality in a not so reality based family
(i'm still jealous of your latest Harley)

Tim... for taking over as head of the Thomas household when David passed on

John... for reminding me that life isn't so serious that a good buzz will slow you down

Lynda... thank you for all the love you give to all creatures on this earth
and especially those of us who walk erect...
may your upcoming marriage be blessed

thank you Michelle
for my grandnephew and..... well, for just being you

thanx Jen
for always staying in my heart and letting me hide out in yours

thank you JD
for trusting me enough to rush to your house ( pistola in hand) on a single phone call... no explanation required !!
and for the understanding i have that you would do the same for me.......

thank you Claibe...
my constant friend, in a world full of variables

thank you Nessa
for always sharing yourself with me

for Catherine (my Alabama mom) and Billy....
thank you for accepting me into this family with open arms....
i not only give you my love, i give you my respect

thank you Reckless (good ol' hound)
who showed me many paths
i rejoice you have moved on
i may catch up some day

and to Molly
for always being on guard and ever alert

thanks to all my friends left behind...... Denver, Panama City....
you were never really left behind
to you and all my online friends
distance these days is only a state of mind
and love is unique unto us all

i count my blessings this Thanksgiving Day
one
by
one
by
one thousand plus

and i cannot help but smile

thanks given
to all of you.............

Tomas

on the lighter side from my last post.... back to my bar series poetry

Wheel Of Fortune Set In Tune To C&W Blasting On The Juke Box



quiet nite

at the Brewery Bar

hank williams

stands alone above the chatter

and vanna,

sweet vanna,

she glides across the screen

flipping letters on the board

like webster's daughter

on the prowl



Tomas

if Rwanda only had oil.....

Commentary
Search for Perpetrators of the Rwandan Genocide
by Leroy Sievers
Morning Edition, November 4, 2005 · Commentator Leroy Sievers covered the Rwandan genocide and its aftermath for ABC's Nightline. Recently he travelled to Congo to look for the perpetrators, this time working for the International Crisis Group, an anti-conflict organization. He says there can never be closure after the horror of the slayings.


i heard this story on NPR last friday morning and i sat with tears running down my cheeks before i was out the door to work....... one of the accounts was of this journalist's interpreter in the Congo... he is Congonese, but was married to a Tutsi woman..... he bribed the Hutu guerillas to shoot his wife in the head in front of him, rather than for them to hack her to death with machetes....... he gave them money to shoot her to save her the suffering they were planning on inflicting..... i mean fuck !!!!! could you imagine this?

this report deeply unsettled something inside me..... i hope this post relieves some of what i feel still now...... i'm on no soap box here..... this one just tore me up and i had to post..... please listen to this report..... it's only a few minutes long..... and tell me that there is justice and love and warmth and people who care in this world

and also.......

be happy where you are
right now.....
this moment......
and cling tight to the ones you love

Tomas

All Hallows' Eve.......

photo by emma claire.

Re-evaluation


Canteloupe eyes
a vegetarian meal
for those who seek
my soul

Equestrian gait
the flies
left in the meadow
not really running away
more like running towards
the center
of unreality

The noblest quest
is walking the edge
is finding that center
then looking out
and realizing
what it took
to get there


Tomas

ok...... i'm back.... we are in our new home... working our butts off...

and so here we are..... and i am happy...... new home.... new life....
well there is the stress of
not having all our stuff up here yet
not selling Karla's house in Southern Alabama yet (which would put us over the top)
working a job that requires me to drive all over a big (enough) city that i don't know

and still i wake up every morning with a smile on my face..... content with new directions...... satisified with choices..... happy to be me

i pulled this poem from my archives.... not sure why, but it does seem to remind me that the bullshit is all just that......





Alive

i broke something
in my body today
deep inside
i don't know what
i'm not even sure
what makes me think this
other than the sensation of a quick
hard
thud

ultimately i am sure
due to the alcohol
and the smoke
and the neglect
something snapped

but i remind myself
that i treat my truck
with the same abandon
i tend to drive it
into the ground
yet it always gets me
where i'm going
even if i have to
pop the hood
now and then
and fuck with
this
or
that

someone might say
"this is really a matter
of priorities"
but i would say
it's all a matter
of pushing limits
of walking the edge
of saluting the stars
it's a matter of
living
vs.
existence

like winning the lotto
a cool 2 mil
then blowing the wad
in one night
waking up the next morning
hung over
broke
somewhere in Rio
with a big-ass smile
on my face

alive

Tomas

This blog will be down for a few weeks.......... It's adventure time !!!!

thanx to my friends, who visit on occasion.... i am shutting down for a couple of weeks while i metamorphose into an entirely new world of existence..... this is my farewell to Panama City, FL..... i am moving to Birmingham, AL to be with my wife and new family there.... in brief explanation, our oldest daughter got accepted to ASFA (alabama school of fine arts) which is rated like the 4th best high school in the nation.... virtually guaranteeing a college scholarship and located in Bham, AL..... there are all the pros and cons in my head about the move.... i quit my job already @ FSU in Panama City...... the 3 biggest pros are i will be actually living w/my wife and family for the first time (there's a 4th 'pro' included in the middle of that statement.... but i won't touch on that right now {eg})....... we are a stone's throw from the Appalachian mountains (i haven't been camping in over 8 years..... my favorite recreation when i lived in Colorado).... and NO FUCKING HURRICANES !!!!!

Farewell Panama City, Florida

Who or What I Am

you capture a moment
without slicing
or dicing
you smile
carry it in a backpack
wave goodbye over your shoulder

you refuse to

add up the
seconds
minutes
hours
days
years

you, uh

just leave

eyes forward

... and suddenly
you're in
a new
and wonderful
place

damn i love my life

and who or what i am

Tomas

for those you love, please make out a living will... in honor of Terri Schiavo and my brother, David Thomas

With No Explanation... 8-22-96

I.

"Raise your foot David"
somebody says
eventually his foot raises
I could tell my dog
"scratch Reckless"
eventually
he will scratch

It is the faith
the false hope
the not wanting to let go
(or admit)
that
masques
their rational thought
that masques
the promise
that tears this family apart

II.

He walks up to his brother
propped up
in a wheelchair
mouth open
tongue flicking
without intent
the blank stare beyond us all
for one brief second
he flashes
on a time
before the accident

It seems
at least right now
it was a perfect time

before the blank stare
before the drool
out the side of his mouth
as incomprehensible
as it may seem
he reads the lips
the silent babble
hears the words
from a far distance

get me out of here

He draws a loaded
38
from under his shirt
without hesitation
aims
pulls the trigger
silence
(other than the ringing
in his ears)
silence and then
some weird sensation touches his brow
a kiss

before he is wrestled to the ground by the orderly
before the cops
an' the courts
an' the rest of the family
an' the whole damn world
condemn him

a sacrifice
not for himself
not for the selfish
or the survivors
or the betterment of all

but for the moment
for the betterment
of one
the one
who's gaze
has pleaded these silent whispers

help me
get out of

this

for who's past should not be
desecrated
because of faith and concerns and even love

Specified
long before this ever
happened

I told you all

I do not want

this

All of them listened
am I the only one
who heard ?


Tomas

for Kuroaki....

Cockroach Revenge

Monday nite
i glance around the apartment
the computer sits alone
i sit alone
the plants
well they all commune
they all get watered every week-end
at the same time
B B King leans against the wall
black and white
and smilin’ that wonderful smile
he has
tellin’ me
that the blues
ain’t about bein’
blue
they’re ‘bout
lettin’ go

No sign of cockroaches
i can’t believe
i finally squashed
every
single
one
under my fist
brown stains on white walls

Perhaps the cockroach word
is out
stay away
from that crazy
mother fucker

I turn off the fan
listen for little cockroach
footsteps
under the futon
or behind the bookcase

Nothing

“I know you are there !”
i shout
“just stay outa my sight
and maybe we can get along”

Not sure why i hate the damn things
so much
i mean
they’ve been around a lot longer
than us
they figured out how to survive
by scurrying
and hiding
in dark places
by bothering no one
if not by accident
tickling across my hand
draped to the floor
awaking me
from a
not so perfect dream
and making me
sit up quickly
pulse racing
flicking my hand
trying to gather my senses
unsure of where i am
for a moment
or where i have just been

Tomas

in remembrance

poetry by my loving wife, Karla Sasser.........


8:48 am, EST, Tuesday, September 11, 2001

this morning,
the one of blue fall skies
clear white clouds
crisp morning breath,
this morning
painted with hope,
potential,
expectation,
this morning
she stood tall.
pressed her silver dress
with narrow hands,
fingers like thin steel.
a day's work.
life in her belly,
head in the clouds.
tall and swatting
the foreign fly in her soup.
denying his existence.
hands on her hips,
cocked to the side
at his audacity.
a turn to her sister,
the twin, sipping her coffee,
shuffling papers and plans,
unaware of the intrusion
or approaching knife.
life and potential
spilling on the street.
last sibling gasps
rising in black smoke
to this morning,
this morning
of fallen blue skies
and war.

kfs, 9/12/01, 11:21pm

Katrina... one more casualty, one more great loss...

Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown died Saturday..... battling lung cancer and heart disease @ 81 years old, he evacuated from his home in New Orleans to his brother's home in Orange, TX... his home in NO destroyed, both his brother and his agent said in different words (in reference to his love for New Orleans).... 'he most likely truly died of a broken heart'.....

Louisiana-born, Texas-raised multi-instrumentalist Clarence "Gatemouth" Brown has been dishing up his unique blend of blues, R&B, country, jazz, and Cajun music for more than 50 years. A virtuoso on guitar, violin, harmonica, mandolin, viola, and even drums, Gatemouth has influenced performers as diverse as Albert Collins, Frank Zappa, Lonnie Brooks, Eric Clapton, Roy Clark, Bonnie Raitt, Ry Cooder, the Rolling Stones, Joe Louis Walker and many more than i can even imagine here to mention.

Thank you Gatemouth.... i gotta feelin' god is boogying down as i speak.............................

... those were the days

(me and Greyhawk, back alley behind Muddy's Java Cafe circa: Denver,CO 198s0mething)

The Oases Of Life

Memories
(no,
moments)
music
camping
Hieneken!
sleep?
Monday Night Football at jd's?
a hot bath on a cold winter night
Monty Python
fresh hot unsliced apple pie
good wine
good cheap wine
friendship
a good poem
a good lover
Carlos Castaneda
Carlos Santana
smokin'?
tinies at the Brewery Bar II
'shroomin'
Blues Brothers the movie
pepperoni/mushroom pizza
(with tabasco sauce)
ZZ TOP/La Grange
a dog asleep at your feet
Charles Bukowski
air guitar
a dog asleep at Bukowski's feet
Ah yes, Muddy's Java Cafe

Oasis,
relief
in our desert
existences

Tomas

ok..... enough depression, politics and empathy for the moment.... back to poetry

Shifting the Paradigm

Attending my friends' wedding
a lesbian wedding

i was asked

do you wish to sit
on the bride's side

or on the bride's side

oooh
one of those capsulated
little zen moments


Tomas

apology...

apparently i spoke too soon..... in reference to my last post i heard today that dozens of countries have offered aid to the U.S. in wake of Katrina and that number is growing..... Germany was the first, Russia, Canada, France, Honduras... offers of medical teams, electrical experts, specialized equipment.... Venezuela offered $1 million dollars out of the gov't owned oil industry there (Chavez called Bush king of vacations... i LOVE it !)

dubya commented to nbc news a day or 2 ago "i'm not expecting much from foreign nations, 'cause we didn't ask..." " this country's gonna rise up and take care of it"

arrogant fuck !!!!

as the state department considers the offers (considers the offers?).... i humbly apologize for my presumption... and am reminded that good resides in the midst of evil..... seems the problem isn't with the offers, it is with this administration's unwillingness to admit we need help...

Tomas

Question ...

I wonder how many of our "friends" in other countries will send relief, equipment, medical supplies, doctors, nurses, building materials, food, water, money to the good people in Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama... (?) oh yeah, forgot it is better for u.s. to give than to receive....

Katrina... one badass bitch, one evil eye

barreling down on New Orleans....... cat5..... currently 160 mph sustained winds and still growing.... please say a prayer to whatever god you pray to for the folks there.......

dubya declares emergency.... think he'll reconsider joining the Kyoto Club?..... nah

Earlie's Leg

(please click on pic for full effect)

Fear

I'm not afraid
of dying.
I am afraid
of dying,
without living
first.


Tomas

... the pain never really goes away, you just learn to live with it

(click on pic to see detail)

The Letter

Dearest Tomas

Sorry i haven't
Written in so long but we've been
Pretty busy
Out here
The neighbors
Just bought an amphibious
Landing craft at a gov't auction and
We've been enlarging their pool
On top of that
Mom fell down again
Broke both arms
And her right eye
She's still hitting the booze
So with both arms in a cast
We had to rig an iv

Did i tell you herb the postman
Got a serious rash
That isn't so bad
'Til i tell you where it was
I think it was in tj

How's the sun tea business
Mom keeps saying
She doesn't think
You're going to do shit
But i tell her
It can't miss
With the low overhead

Gotta cut this short
The doberman next door
Just pissed on my tires
Again i'm going to kill
That fucking dog

Take care for now
Please write
If you find out
Who
You are

Your ex-son

S.

from the Advertiser,,, (formerly Thrifty Nickel)...

i was thinking of responding to this ad..... but not enough information.... like paid how much?

...fear and loathing

This coming Saturday... Hunter S. Thompson's ashes will be shot from a cannon inside a 150-foot-tall monument over his Woody Creek Canyon home, Owl Farm, near Aspen Colorado........

now THAT'S poetry.......

... and today is a good day to die (my friend Gregory Greyhawk)

i used to dance
by myself
around the living room
a lot (!)

it gives me strength
to fight the daily
bullshit

it grants me power

friend of mine just
burned me a copy
of 'Blondie's Greatest Hits'

downed some beers
a shot or 2 of jager
put on my new birthday hat
and tore up the damn carpet (!)

and now
i can't seem to get
this smile
off my face


Tomas

song for Tomas..... circa: 1997

~if only i

would you love me more
if you woke
to find me
cloaked in mountain clouds,
bathed and pure
in melting snows?
could you dream of me
in deeper sleep
if eyes were closed
with passionate fingers,
wet with ocean foam
and salty tongues?
would you find
yourself intoxicated
by nectar petals,
opened and alluring
on the pathway to Eden?
could you resist
the song my siren sings
if my message
were whispered
on summer's breeze?
could you love
me more if
i were simply
these things
and you were
loved the same?
do you love me
same, as i am none,
and only i remain?

kfs

... one of those poems that wrote itself (ok.... so there may have been a beer or 2 contributing)

Polite Discourse

Sunday a.m.

wind cranks up hard

shakes

my abode

the cows are all

standing

tails to the west

wind blowing

up their assholes

mooooooooooo's coming out

the other end

Tomas

song for Karla..... circa: 1997

(if your love were a mountain stream)

A Quiet Day, Thinking of You

If your love
were a cloud
i would bathe naked
in its gentle rain
and clap my hands
to its thunder

If your love
were a mountain stream
i would sit on its bank
to cool my feet
and listen to
its soothing whispers

If your love
were
an ocean
i would surf its strongest wave
taste the salt
of its passion

If your love
were a flower
i would every day
bend
to kiss
each petal

If your love
were
the softest breeze
bringing me the scent
of far away magnolia's
sweet embrace

If your love
were my
last dying breath

how sweet

pursed lips

ascend

Tomas

oops........

Patterns in the Evening Sky


Like any good human
i abide
for the good of the many
i abide

well i toss in those lil’ moments
of personal satisfaction

yet no one sees
or hears
or smells
or is hurt by my hand

never
take a hit
at a major intersection

... these are words
to live by

Tomas

... stylin' in my new birthday hat from Karla

You say it's your birthday
(na-na-na-na-nant-na)

It's my birthday too--yeah
(na-na-na-na-nant-na)

They say it's your birthday
(na-na-na-na-nant-na)

We're gonna have a good time.........

(Beatles, 'White Album'..... sort of)

let the music set you free...... (Carlos Santana)

Sweet Music



something inside me shouts danger
i ignore it
the time is wrong
and i know
my mistakes
every one

i know
there is more to it
than circumstance
there is more there
than any control


just let sweet music take me
lead me to the edge
and i will leap

the beauty is in the fall you see
suspended in the truth
that the bottom will come
soon enough

on its own

Tomas

....favorite quotes by famous poets (part B)

if yr not sure what this post is about..... scroll down to 7-15-05


...but as God said,
crossing his legs,
I see where I have made plenty of poets...
but not so very much poetry...


Charles Bukowski

... in honor of a very Old Soul (who taught me well)

Reckless Abandon and me

Pleasing My Friend Reckless

i often wonder

why he barks

at nothing i can see

or hear

or sense

out there

in total black

"what is it boy ?"

i whisper (for effect)

patting his head

"what is it ?"

he barks again

a deep throated war cry

i am not so sure as to whether

it is his imagination

or my lack of...

hmmmm...

there was a time i would

yell at him

"Reckless, shut up !"

concerned about the neighbors

but he only barks

when there's somethin'

to bark at

or he perceives something

out there

an' just 'cause i can't

sense it

doesn't mean

it's not

an' besides that's his job

we all got

our jobs

to do

so since i figured this all out

i encourage him

i pat him on the head

scratch behind his ears

an' say

"good boy Reckless

ya' ol' crazy dog

good boy

you scared 'em alright"

he gives a final

half woof

half snort

and lies

back down

proud

content

Tomas