Tag Archives: Dreams

In the Glass I See

There in the glass I see a sixteen year old boy with an old man’s mask on. I begin to notice the dark circles under the green eyes that sparkle; nothing dull yet; but his glasses do need cleaning. I see white stubble and mustache with a two inch long goatee on his saddening face; like he’s had no reason to shave in the past few days. Looking closer I see the goatee covers a weak double chin with a single wrinkle that goes down the length of his neck. The same white stubble covers his shaved head to cover the thinning bald spot in the back and what’s left of his front hairline.
His round upturned nose reminds me of a Santa’s nose, but there’s a thin scar going diagonal from the left nostril to the top that makes his nose tilt to the right side of his face. His cheekbones are set high, but it seems to highlight the dark circles more. The ears are long and close to the head.
Wait a minute… he’s starting to smile with a broad grin and his eyes are lighting up and sparkling even more. His whole face transforms and laughs a little with a tear rolling down his cheek and then is when I happily succumb to my fate realizing the old man is me and that my wrinkles are really my laugh lines. My green eyes are still that of the sixteen year old from so many years ago… but they’re still with me today.

© 2011 Michael Yost 12/10

Pete

childrens-portrait-photographer-elliot-jonah-bridge-1

That’s Pete and myself 20 years ago.
Today I walked the rail alone, because Pete had to ride.
It was a beautiful coach and everything;
He always looked his best in his dress blues.

It was a beautiful spring morning then too.
The ground was soft that morning and fruitful;
The worms we got were huge and the trout ate em up.
Almost as big as the ones crawling out from under that tarp.

I brought this picture today to remember important things.
Pete’s sacrifice is obvious and full of meaning.
What’s not so obvious is that
Pete greased the last three feet of that rail.

©2011 Michael Yost 01/14

Pete is everyone’s brother, son and father

up.the.anteater@gmail.com

http://www.booguloo.wordpress.com

Melancholy Mood, Bob Dylan

Stop Sign

Yesterday I believe was our start
Today marks the binding of our hearts
Tomorrow starts the journey of our love
With the showing of the two white doves

The world was our bumpy road ahead
Laughing with each new bump as we sped
Not a care or worry crossed our minds
That is before they ran a stop sign

The angels were there to push our car
Before the semi got very far
Still the semi hit the brakes
Saving all our lives for Heaven’s Sake

© 2016 Michael Yost 03/17

My Final Sin

I question my motives everyday
Trying to find the righteous way
Not giving into a hateful fate
Nor pushing through or jumping gates

Not giving into the path of ease
Coming across like you meant to please
Opening my heart and letting you in
Was my final mistake my final sin

© 2016 Michael Yost 03/17

Adjusting Words Past

Come over here and sit by me
On the soft grass under the oak tree
Dreams faded away paint cracked and curled
Once were the days you were still my girl

Deny not the smiles they were real
Fears from broken hearts past did peel
Let’s make things right don’t go astray
Adjust the words I said and didn’t say

The sun’s going down the end of the day
Look at the time spent we’ve had to pay
We have to go now and I don’t know how
Accepting defeat again with closure now

Let me give hope back filling your heart
Give it a chance we’ll have a new start
With our tracks behind us converging
Let’s be together once again merging

Don’t take me down on bending knees
I don’t want to but beg I will please
If it’s your will then I’ll push this rock
Never again your door will I knock

© 2012 Michael Yost 3/22

Under Her Cup

Keep your only love under your cup
Don’t let your eyes settle too long on him
While sitting at the long table for sup
Close your eyes for prayer and hymn

Your father watches you close to see
Whether your blue eyes remain shut tight
And he can’t see your foot rub his knee
Suddenly the ground shook with a fright

More pleading prayers and hymns calmed the earth
Then a black cloud and red fire spewed up
Like labor opening giving birth
Her secrets out up from her love’s cup

© 03/12 Michael Yost 2016

Disguise

*”If you wanna find
Out what’s behind these cold eyes
You’ll just have to claw
Your way through this
Disguise”

Working the floor smiling hiding tears
People behind pushing trying to steer
Her young death hard keeping up the facade
Sadness now wanting madness’s rod

No more penance and self flagellation
Opening these gate’s reputation
Run away or you’ll make your own wreath
Looking up you’ll see you’re underneath

© 03/10 Michael Yost 2016

*In The Flesh
Roger Waters
Pink Floyd
The Wall

Possibilities

Looking beyond the possibilities
Shows the doors of probability
Sesame only echoes futility
By my chiney chin chin’s hostilities

© 2016 Michael Yost 03/08

Aluminuggets

Not having ten advisors I look to you
You seem to know the answers with no voodoo
Watching the caldron my fate seems to bubble up
Dipping in the chalice I taste the corrupt

Picking up the gold nuggets emptying the cans
Looking towards the new horizon I stand
Watching the sun crest over the fall tree line
Gathering in the carts I count all that’s mine

© 03/03 Michael Yost 2016

It Caresses The Tip

MarionS.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rushes in on a musky sweet wave
Almost like flash flooding creates and behaves
The cool sensuous flesh soon fills the void
Shooting cold chills through her opening Freud
Pushing forward and up clamping shut
Just in time
Only to lose a couple drops of the sublime
Melon for you
Melon for me
Such aware company
© 2010 Michael Yost 11/24

 

 

Alien Reconstruction

Passing Gas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Welcome everybody to the introduction
Hopefully I’ll explain it all through my induction
Building a new existence through self seduction
There’s no time now for self destruction

Compiling the knowledge for instruction
Eliminating the extra work through deduction
Now it’s time to begin the inner construction
First finding all the hindering walls by deduction

Then knocking down all those obstructions
And leveling off all the reductions
Finishing my new existence by conduction
Forgetting the time of the alien abduction

© 2011 Michael Yost 12/03

Our Glass of Sand

Katherine Forbes Photography

 

 

 

 

 

Pushing on past time and space
Touched by fire with her radiant embrace
Chest to breast, hearts synced in a race
Never ever wanting, to leave this place

Scent of her hair ear, lobe cool to the touch
Loins rushing red, our lips about to brush
Breathe quickened now, soon to combust
These feelings must not only, be given to lust

Fingers running down, her arms to her hands
Our eyes locked in smile, lingering in stand
We were almost part of something banned
As time stood still for a moment, in our glass of sand
©2011 Michael Yost

An Understanding

Inhaling yesterday’s memory.
Her scent’s lingering long.
Sprawled naked on her silken robe
She rose early and now she’s gone

The nightstand held a note for me
I smiled as I read
The evening was nice, please feed the cat
Don’t forget to make the bed.
© 2011 Michael Yost 08/01

Pete

childrens-portrait-photographer-elliot-jonah-bridge-1.jpg

That’s Pete and myself 20 years ago.
Today I walked the rail alone, because Pete had to ride.
It was a beautiful coach and everything;
He always looked his best in his dress blues.

It was a beautiful spring morning then too.
The ground was soft that morning and fruitful;
The worms we got were huge and the trout ate em up.
Almost as big as the ones crawling out from under that tarp.

I brought this picture today to remember important things.
Pete’s sacrifice is obvious and full of meaning.
What’s not so obvious is that
Pete greased the last three feet of that rail.
© 2011 Michael Yost 04/23

Pete could be everyone’s brother, son and father

booguloo@live.com
booguloo.wordpress.com

Growing Older

 

Growing older shortens time
The sun and shovels blister
Dead Men’s Chest off key’s a crime
Dying is lifetime’s closure

This is not the bitter end
The wheelhouse rolls with raves
And the main sail billow sends
Helped pushed and pulled by waves

The dead men told no tales
And those who danced with Jack Ketch
Or went for Moby Dick the whale
Anything else was another stretch

© 2014 Michael Yost 05/13

Teach Your Children

Once tangled up in an addicted existence
Kept my family hostage, but at a distance
Now they’re gone, done with coexistence
Not by mine, but with their insistence

I’m blessed by most with conversation
Texting mostly with a short duration
I’m not complaining now, it’s still a relation
It’s a new life for all, dealing with isolation

© 2011 Michael Yost 07/09

Dissolving Fears

Being alone is, one of my greatest fears.
Not having a sweet lady, very near.
Someone to talk, to let words fill the air.
Instead of writing, about this despair.

Alone again in, a cheerful crowded room.
Wandering around, seems to be my doom.
A single light glows, as I scan for a date.
Could this be the one, as it’s getting late?

Mutual eyes meeting, the room getting bright.
Approaching slowly, as to not give fright.
Talking to her true, she made it quite clear.
This may be the one, dissolving the fears.

© 2011 Michael Yost 06/09

Dazing Phrasing

The feelings are real but are only my feelings
Just as most of my thoughts are just as fleeting
Only do they matter if they become some actions
And then to only mean something to some factions

Trying to sort out what really matters to me
But feelings and thoughts sometimes get the better of me
Most of the time they lead to no actions
End up just being some sort of distractions

To some I know this makes perfect sense
And to others becoming much too intense
And yet to some others really weird
Find that talking to me is something to be feared

So finding out what really matters to me
May be something I’ll never really see
So if you see me walking around in a daze
It’s just me feeling and thinking of a phrase

© 2011 Michael Yost 06/20

Intoxicating Scent

Under my fingertips your lips were moist.
I was certain I heard your pleasure voiced
Those goose bumps were real, I felt at your door.
That brief stolen kiss whispering one more

My feet in the door, one more kiss to gain
Hands slid down your frame I knew you’d abstain
Intoxicating scent left on my hands
I left rather quickly fearing quicksand

©2011 Michael Yost 04/28

Not Left Behind This Time

Left behind to play with himself
Finding a puzzle he might solve
All the other kids went ahead
When they seen him often they fled

He was a normal and quiet boy
Mother was poor not many toys
Father had left for some reason
Mother mumbled about treason

Left alone too while mother worked
She told him uptown a store clerk
Some boy’s drunken dad let it out
He saw his mom whoring about

Grew up stronger and tougher too
Came up alone fought quite a few
Signed up Marines a paradox
A dad for sad until the pine box

© 2011 Michael Yost 05/11

Mom Warned Me

Didn’t give you much of a chance
Nor did you hold up much of a stance
Being a single mother since I was less than one
And I being the only and youngest son

My salvation was your greatest concern
At eleven I gave my heart so I wouldn’t burn
Decades later I still know I’m saved
But you wouldn’t know it in how I behaved

You would suggest behavior in all that I did
Very few things did you ever forbid
Out of respect I followed most of the time
Never really caught when I did the crime

Next milestone was at the age of thirteen
The year I was no longer green
Lost innocence under the green porch light
She was twenty five and my mother was mostly right

Changed my life’s path for good and for sure
Some would say I was no longer pure
Could or would, knowing I couldn’t change a thing
Even going from a tenor to baritone when I sing

© 2011 Michael Yost 11/04

 

 

Best Read with New Meds

Lazy eye turns and I see double

Tired eyes close, the start of the trouble

Drifting away, sleep seals my work

Minutes later, a sudden jerk

 

Awake now and ready to start

Writing half lines within my heart

It’s a price I pay with new meds

Wonder if it’s worth, sleeping instead

 

© 2012 Michael Yost 1/15

“Bar Stool” Gary Jules

Old man on a barstool watching TV
Got up and came over to sit closer to me
He said “You look familiar to someone I knew
But when were your age we were older than you
Jimmy was twenty and I seventeen
And to us there was nothing but girls and machines
Jimmy got married and I went to war
I still don’t know what we were doing it for
But if you’ll buy me a drink–turkey on ice
Then I could give you some advice

“You just stay in the bar
For as long as you can
As long as you’re drinking
Then you’ve got the world in your hand

“There’s no shame in hanging your world by a string
And you know there’s no harm in not thinking a thing
But trying to find a place for yourself in this world
Is like trying to make a wife of an American girl
If you’ll trade me a drink for a story or two
Then you’ll know what you need to do

“You just stay in the bar
For as long as you can
You know love is for sissies
It’s whiskey that makes you a man”

Now the old man got up and stumbled out in the street
He’d been drinking all day and left his bar tab with me
I didn’t have the money to cover his bill
But I found me a man who looked like me, younger still
And said, “Buy me a drink and I’ll tell you a tale
About the old man who taught me so well

You just stay in the bar
For as long as you can
Hell I know you’re a friend
I can tell by the shakes in your hand
You just stay in the bar
For as long as you dare
As long as you’re tipping
Then you’ve got a good friend somewhere

May I Wonder Aloud?

Like the song, I ask where all the flowers have gone.

Where are the people that were part of my life growing

up as a babe and young boy?

I know the answer; they have slipped away into a memory

I have the memories, deep memories, I should be happy.

 

Next the teenage years and a lot of the same people are

there; but there’s new ones too. They were priming me

 for the new adult life and the first loves of a teen.  It was

happy anxiety.  Those people and the girls have all slipped

away into memories.  I have the memories, deep memories,

I should be happy.

 

As a young man the 7 seas were going to be my home

and I married a young lady to keep my house. We had one

child and finally four growing up and out of the home. 

Three have wives and husband of their own. Those children raised

me!  The wife and I drew apart and the family all slipped

away into memories. I have the memories, deep memories,  

I should be happy.

 

Aging as people do, I found a few friends; the kids were

all far away and I turned to writing as an outlet. Nothing

was ever published, but that didn’t matter; the writing

was for my benefit, no one else’s. One day the Doctor

told me I would soon lose my memories and after a

while I would finally die. So now I write even more of my

memories, so I can remember them; so I should be happy.

 

 

© 2012 Michael Yost 2/7