Poems
BUTT-NAKED LUNCH by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet)
when
times get tough
and bad things
happen
my lover and me
love the sound
of our skin
slapping
together
beat by beat
to one rhythm
overlapping
in time
we find
healing
with both our hearts
kneeling
on bended knees
eating
each others skin
is so revealing
peeling away
every sweet
layer
to the bone
with softest moans
melting the night
while fingers roam
feeling at home
all over us
all a glow
until
both of us
know
everything
is gonna be
alright everything
and now we see
love is all
we’ll ever need
and sex is a feast
so i’ll serve the beef
whenever life
seems so mean
my baby and me
hear a dinner bell ring
and again
and again
it’s time to feed
it’s time to eat
the butt-naked lunch
bon appetit!!!
ELEGY IN OCTOBER by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet) in memory of Kara Christine Parker
it was in
a gray October of
one long gone year
we both fell in love
way back
when we were both so young
back when i was sunburned
and she was the sun
and she was
the love of my life
she was an angel from above
she was to be my wife
and with a little bit of luck
we would make sweet
love love love
run amok
we supped wine from a loving cup
like two licorice libertines love struck
when something was up
and she was my first
and i was hers
back in that gray October i spoke of
back when her autumn arrhythmias would cause me to erupt
when she was my marigold
she was my macramé angel
softest skin i’ve ever known
will ever know?
so her skin was a field of snow
and her emerald eyes were a million stories left untold
her saffron curls
of golden swirls the ozone
when i was with her i was home
and i love this babe to the bone
but now she’s gone
and she left this world
and all she’d ever known
just like that old Hank William’s song
she’s long gone
she’s long gone
and i am so
alone.
RIP MY LOVE!
SURF SONG by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet) Poem & Poemfilm
SURF SONG by Jeff Callaway
I wish I could surf.
I want to ride the crest
of the bluest wave
the sea will be my brother
oh surf would me save
oh see me out
on the endless sea
only the waves
my surfboard
and me.
I come in with the tide.
I wash up on shore.
I stand on the beach
with my surfboard.
the ocean and I
as one My Lord.
I shake my curly blonde locks
in the wind
all wet with
the stuff of the sea
within.
if you didn’t look too close
you’d think I had fins.
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NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway
NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS by Jeff Callaway
my
alabaster princess
of Atlantis prances
into oblivion
kissing me with her ocean
and breathing in heavy animation
a promenade
of sensual acumen, aplomb
a parade
inside the lover’s aquarium
where there is algebra in our footsteps
and a masquerade
of opulent beauty
in the caress of her
fingertips
all icy
patterns on my bare skin
to the bone
so we drop the linen
in the kitchen
towards an apex of explosions
or a crushing weightlessness
taking us towards our graves
or mine
gravely
in the grave digger’s serenade
her tongue of waves of fire
is like life is the alphabet of death
and her teeth are like tombstones
that spell out orgies
in her mouth
where i immerse myself
mercilessly
in the rain her hair is also fire
orange and golden curls
that swirl
secret side inside secret
swirl she is a cupcake
in her creamy skin, an ivory
death wish bone china cabinet
and i am the rain
upon her sweaty bed
with its no sheets, a bare bedlam
and i am the child she is torturing
in the dungeon
with butterflies
nurturing tsunamis in my stomach
as i reside within the walls
of her
wet soft pinkness
© Jeff Callaway
TO: JOHN FOGERTY by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet) Poem & Poemfilm
TO: JOHN FOGERTY
the crickets chirp
an old Creedence tune
like Bad Moon-
…
Rising or Born On The Bayou
the water moccasins sing too
through
poison devil tongues
of Satan’s tooth
to
hiss the song right on through
their mouths agape and cotton fanged
the moonlight serenade
alligators and crocodiles promenade
to Have You Ever Seen The Rain
their ivory wide smiles for miles
seem to say
yes
to the bullfrogs bopping
the slimy toads hopping
this Green River is never stopping
with snapping turtles surfing
on logs meant for the chopping
so just Keep On Chooglin’
up to the big Bad Moon
Rising
above John Fogerty’s phantasy zoo
where his creatures in Mississippi mud
sing the blues
in the breeze
just cause
I saw it on TV
the footprints of the Boggy Creek
monster
mad in marshy marmalade mud
this Blue Moon Swamp is a musical masterpiece
to flood
the silhouettes of cypress trees
as the dark shadows bud
and bloom
to the lead guitar grooves
and the lead singer’s croons soothe too
his music sets the mood
while lily pads float soliloquies to
the rowdy river
that mirrors
the mystical sky in deep blue
to ooby dooby ooby dooby ooby dooby too
like Willie and The Poor boys do
when the marshmallow clouds thunder and boom
and rain down on birds of prey
but the whooping crane plays
like my ding a ling shakes like a big rattlesnake
and he smiles
with a catfish in his slender throat
and a hungry death wish hope
as the great horned owl
watches all suspicious eyed
hoot hoot hooting!
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ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF MADNESS by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet) Poem & PoemFilm
stoned
and de-throned
left out on the back porchÂ
all alone
on the outskirts of madness
it’s weird Wednesday
psychedellia
guys running around in trench coats
with sunglasses on
strange things happening
on the neighbor’s lawn
a girl’s voice mumbling in my ear
no it’s a bird
3am cocaine nightmares
rats in the kitchen
bats in the belfry
it’s dawn and i’m still awake
the madness ensues
on the outskirts of madness
things are strange outside
these people staring at me
through the cracks in the blinds
must want me to see all these strange things
i’m telling you it’s strange
did someone just knock at the door?
no, really lock the door please, i’m scared
Devil is in the barn
dog don’t want to go out and play
the wind is crying it’s a dark day
i’m skitzin’Â on the windows
at the games the light
and the shadows play
and the games that one’s ears play
on that third day
when i think someone is here
but their really in the neighbor’s driveway
i stare at these windows for days
with nothing to say…
but welcome to Speeder Freak Lake
welcome to the outskirts of madness
welcome to a season in hell
that is my sadness …
as well as my sanctuary…
ON CAMPUS OBSERVATIONS by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet)
gin and tonics
at the Jubilee House
are not enough
to ease the calm
from the love that i lost
they only feed my qualms
about day two with no pot
as i sit up here at the college
and rot
with my lonesome nose in my notebook
i squat
and scrawl my secret words
the passerby might never have heard
but only stare at me
through my wild word sea
like lost little hush puppies read
in wonder
as i wonder why
the beautiful girls they just walk on by
and they don’t even
notice me
just because i seem
like some weird luke warm book worm to them
and not the MAN that i truly am
as even more
random folks stroll on by
an old man hobbling horse legged in old worn boots
smoking on a yellowed cigarette through broken teeth
killing ants on the park bench the pain of a sting is
just wishing someone would
notice me
like some kind of finder of lost things
like someone to bring out the beauty with me
to dust off the dust off of these
past relationships
just like a flagship
or an old friend
or a long strange road trip to come in
waves of firework and cathartic good times
that finally
read me
between these
lines
and so yes i will
drink me some more wine
spo dee o dee drinkin’ wine
from the bottle of burgundy in my backpack
of rhyme
with no Swatch Watch on my wrist
to tell me the time
and no weed dealer to sell me a dime
as i sit here
stuck in concrete like
community college is a crime
and i’m
craving the caresses
and the freshness of freshmen
and the sexy solar plexus
of this sophomore from South Texas
who’s been playing with my emotions
and not my erections
like playing hide and go seek
too good for so long
and
1 Mississippi
2 Mississippi
3 Mississippi
she’s gone
but then she’s back again
sitting on a bench reading a book called Zen
And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance when
i kiss her and watch heart palpitations begin
as dumb preppy boys stumble by
and coo and clap
and she puts her arms around me
and sits in my lap!
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ABSINTHE by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet)
when
i drink down
this witch’s brew
of wormwood
this devilish elixir
that sets free within me
these words in me to feed
this poet in me who runs rampantly
crawling out of my woodwork like a termite
to search for something erotic
i’m nothing shocking
short of hallucinations hypnotic
my psychotropic eyes
my dropped wide jaws
with my bloodcurdling screams and applause
i’m feeding all of these faces who
are judging me
from somewhere other than themselves they plead
in beet red to dwell in hell
with eyes ghost glazed
the bells bells bells
as motion through motion they’ve failed
to live through their meager days
but my licorice sweet absinthe can take away
all of those pains
and i am the poet
i am the pimp of the perverse
and there is a darkness that lives
inside of every man
in tiny spots
or in larger splotches
i’m like a word painter with Van Gogh’s ear
to hear that blood is a gift of melancholy made
to course through my veins to feed
the force-field of this tainted blood
this liquid wickedness would prove true
this devil’s drink of which i have consumed
if only to say
i’m pro consumption
i’m pro sensation
i’m pro erection
i’m a convection engine aching
for your sex like a man possessed
writhing and screaming
for the soft embrace of my demon lover
my succubus bartending blonde bombshell from hell
but i’m not the man to bring home to mommy
and i am the absinthe poet laureate of Zen
with zeal i did seal the deal
i did ingest this dark essence
in silent sadness sackcloth moon
to feel eternally enshrouded
in these tales from the cryptic creeping
skeleton doom
swimming in these green balloons
a pagan king
i would assume
the brother to my sister the moon
existing in this wicked liquidness
to bliss
on the day of my doom
entombed
hand in hand
a zombie bride for my corpse groom
under a pagan moon in the nude
sprawled out in my wicker witches bed
where i indulge myself to taste her flesh
as she binds my hands to her buxom breasts
then turns and smiles and blows me a kiss
and then
she places her hands on the apex
of my phallus feeling
to offer her holy sacrament semen
and i die and i die and i die every day
again and again and again and again
when there is nowhere to hide
besides inside
myself
and it kills me to hope
anything will be left
of me
the pagan king
in my death shroud of black i pray
in my death shroud all night i rave
in my death shroud i drink green dreams
in my death shroud i exalt i sing
in my death shroud pagan king
to my absinthe queen!
RODE HARD & PUT UP WET by Jeff Callaway (Texas Outlaw Poet) POEMFILM
Poem film by Texas Outlaw Poet Jeff Callaway based on his poem of the same name. Please LIKE COMMENT and SHARE y’all dig!
RODE HARD AND PUT UP WET by Jeff Callaway
i’ve been rode hard
and put up wet a many a night
by dirty gin martinis
by fine moonshine
by the crucifix neon signs
of the bible belt of East Texas
where the liquor is always thicker
in one of those wet counties
and it always seems to find me quicker
over on the other side of the tracks
but back to what i was saying
i’ve been rode hard and put up wet
a many a night…
i’ve seen the likes of mystics
madmen
six naked men on bikes
in downtown San Francisco
i’ve seen the likes of speedfreak succubus angels
creeping like snakes inside my beer bottles
listening to Radiohead, reggae
redneck romantics
who had also been rode hard and put up wet
i’ve written poems which i’ve put away
until nowand poems i put to you
today…
i’ve seen the rain
from a trainfrom a Greyhound window
from a plane
i’ve seen the night inked in a blanket of fog
and i’ve sat and admired the moon from a hollow log
i’ve rolled my bones and joints
through cellar doors
through the Celis Brewery
through the celestial stars over California beaches
i love to eat the sweetest little peaches
i’ve read at Big Sur
i’ve loved English teachers
i love the sea
i love this poem that rages in me
i’ve combed the seashores
i’ve slept on floors
i’ve been locked behind bars and i’ve been free
i’ve been in a horrible mad raging sea
i’ve slept under the trees
i’ve watched evil TV’s
and i’ve seen
the sunrise the sunset
and all of these wonderful people i’ve met
who have also beenrode hard and put wet…
i’ve been drunk and just went to bed
i’ve been underfed
i’ve had sex drenched in sweat and i’ve bled
i’ve thought for sure that i was dead
i’ve thought for sure the sun would not rise again
and i’ve made friends and i’ve made love
i’ve cried and prayed to the lord up above
i’ve felt and held in the beds of my lover
sendless nights of soft flesh
wrapped in covers
under Texas skies
beside cheerleader’s thighs
in smoky rooms
the scent of northern lights
and i’ve made love on through the night
and into the day
but what i really wanted to say
was i’ve been rode hard and put up wet
a many a night…
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