Come Casual

They say grass is greener
On the other side,
But that can’t be, you see.
Cause while I’m thinking that woman’s fine,
Her husband’s over there looking at mine.

They say never look
A gift horse in the mouth.
But that can’t be, you see.
Though her dad gave her away, I still
Think her mother’s not part of the deal.

They say love is sweeter
The second time around.
But that can’t be, you see.
Cause my ex-wife’s husband now knows why
He’s not a happier man than I.

                                rlkilgore

Love’s lofty ambition
And the measure of Heaven,
More sought than gold,
Though through golden means,
This wisp, Happiness -
Disguised to be
The siren’s caress.

No beckoning served
That demands a kiss,
Yet sweetly found
When love’s requited,
Elusive Happiness -
Pursued beyond
What we possess.

rlkilgore

Growing up in Texas.  I’m on the right and my amigo is now mayor of Rockport, Texas.

As far back as history records
there seems to be,
Even with skeptics,
A universal craving for life
To continue after death.
Religions are a means
Of organizing the afterlife
Into a form the mind
Is able to manage.
But, is the notion
of life prior to birth,
Which human senses lack
The capacity to recall,
Any greater reach?
Perhaps we are a cosmic existence
Of which life on earth
Is an interlude,
A sojourn, a vacation -
For some a pleasant week
At the beach and for others
A nightmare
Where all the flights get cancelled.

                                rlkilgore

My youth budded in a small town where I came 
To know the world, at least the world I saw.

In school I studied math and state capitals
But my core came from the people
Where words like wetback and nigger
Came as naturally out of the mouth as Mom
And Dad with no thought of discrimination.
I wrapped my arms around that world and held
On because it was what I had, it was mine.

That time is long since past and now I learn
From a larger world. My thoughts are about
Individuals and groups, not races.
However, some races have segments
More worthy of my contempt than others.
When this is mentioned the cry
Of racism is loud and shrill.

Decisions represent bias and discrimination -
From the person we marry to the route
We select to go to work each morning.
The self-righteous will say all are equal
And stand on this platform as pure nonracists.
But we are not all equal.  Oriental children
Come to America and in five years not only
Learn the language but win the spelling bees.
It is not an accident the fastest runners are black.

Those who attempt to suppress the realities of the world
Do a disservice of which I will not be a part.
So I am called a racist.

                                 rlkilgore

                                Whenever there I chance to see
                                Sails and gales,
                                In mystery,
                                I wonder where I might have been
                                If I had blown before the wind.

                                Perhaps a beggar on the street
                                Worn and torn
                                In stocking feet,
                                Wine imbibed, waiting to die
                                And cursing all that passes by.

                                Perhaps a president or king,
                                Bestowed with gold
                                And high esteem,
                                Adulation, fame, success
                                And fortune more than popes could bless.

                                Fair winds have borne me love’s caress
                                Hand in hand
                                With happiness,
                                Compassion, trust, fidelity,
                                No greater fortune could I see.

                                And what I am is what I’ll be,
                                Plain as Jane
                                In reality.
                                Though precious youth is robbed by time,
                                The child inside remains behind.

                                                                  rlkilgore

    Lift your eyes, modest lady.
    Reticent, sidelong
    glances faintly reflect
    the direction of your
    Concealed intent -
    to lure or reject.

    Raise your skirt, modest lady.
    Reveal your
    lovely milky thigh,
    not enough to show
    your secrets, just enough
    To tease my eye.

    Beneath your chaste mantle,
    what wasted beauty
    lies unseen, unshown?
    Behind your coy demeanor,
    what joy is lost
    we both might have known?

                              rlkilgore

Stay tuned for a slide show of my climb of Mt. LeConte as soon as I figure out how to put one on this site.  Mt. LeConte is the highest vertical climb in the Eastern U.S.

Miss Mt. LeConte

Miss Mt. LeConte, a spinster I would think
From your morose, unsociable posture
Towering above, looking down, judgemental,
Funeral garb drapped to the ground.
Why would you need a man?
Even a backdrop of sun filled skies
Could not disguise an anger you held
Of encroachment nor soften your virulent air.

How we mortals love the game,
Dominate, control, violate -
So began my quest to convert
Your insolence to lap cat purring,
An assault to you so pitiful as an ant
On a proven path, no leader,
No follower, just an ant.
Annoyed, you then, with the back of your hand
Of wind and snow and ice and rain, 
Reached to brush me from your skirt.

                                  rlkilgore

My son-in-law bought a limo so he and my daughter could go on trips with the kids and roll up the window between the front and back.  They recently took so many people on a trip to Florida that they could not get all the luggage in it.

Water on the moonlit lake is smooth.
So smooth, surface ripples swirl
In diverse directions from an invisible hand
Of the breeze which I neither hear nor feel.
I only see.

Tree frogs croak on this cool August
Night and are the predominate sound.
These I cannot see -
Nor the crickets or the outboard motor
Droning in the distance,
Nor the muted, far off shout of a man
Who for some reason chose
This moment to raise his voice.
These I only hear.

A search light, probably some advertising prop
From the town beyond the hills,
Faintly sweeps the clouds, punctuated
By a red period shining from the top
Of an invisible cell phone tower.
None of these I hear.

Incongruous sights unheard and sounds unseen
Search the senses
To find an interpreter.

                            rlkilgore

You, Profaneness, flung in blasphemy,
Reeking contempt with arrogant bravado
Of Hell’s abyss, you are a belief
Of disbelief whose consequences
Require no answer, for there is
No other, other than yourself.

But what of you, Pious Pride,
Ensconced so smugly in your convictions?
What influence you wield, what power
And wealth to proselytize by cajolement,
And if failing, bloodshed, regardless
Of your creed or your sect or culture.

Whether viewed as light to darkness
Or darkness passing into Light,
Passion holds no sway.
Which is the blinded fool
Is, perhaps, only he
Who presumes to know.

                       rlkilgore

It seems to me Bill Maher has replaced Madalyn O’Hair as the face of atheism. Why would one take it upon himself to attempt to dissuade others from their opinions or discredit their beliefs when those beliefs, with their morals, are the basis on which our country is set, regardless of the validity of those beliefs? The primary reason I can see is to boaster one’s ego, fame and wealth.

You Promised Love demo tape

               words and music   -    rlkilgore

You Done Me Wrong Too Long To Make It Right Tonight  demo tape (waltz)

                                     words and music  -    rlkilgore