Go Black Jack! (Ace in the Hole)

"Go Black Jack! (Ace in the Hole)"

Written by Jonathan Henderson

Tuesday December 9, 2014 @ 11:41 PM

A swig of whiskey and tonic filled with gin, and O'! How 

Shall I celebrate this victory, all those poker chips and the 

Money while feigning a humble grin? Puffing on my cigar -

Tocar! Estos pequeños Castros del espíritu - and my! So, so

Illegal it is right, righteousness that is, begetting pure and

Only bliss I say as the priest prepares to chris-ten the unholy

Partnership of "The Corruptible" with his lover, fair Avarice,

That madam butterfly out of her cocoon and fixin' swoon -

So many tonight from which to choose! I believe the House

Actually was the victor, for I am to receive the truce between

The barrier of the corridor and the gang of catwalkers known

To themselves as the Flooze... and I am the sovereign to what

I choose as I always roll snake eyes, sipping away my night as

Fright of the chips having fallen where they did only accounts

I do lose the same - Judas Iscariot to the cause and the celebrity

Affair for whom all my details will be divulge like the deluge of
Subliminal messages - the scent of decadence which surrounds.

A big swig o' my Lynchburg Lemonade, a puff for my posterity,
And how shall I bet the house, for I am afflicted with the louse of
Cerebral resistance to intellectual discourses plaguing my head
And thy heart which beats colder by the second - and as I roll that
Snake Eyes, I have my little Ace in the Hole - I  hold the deck and
Ye shall await for my command pertinent to the heart's discontent,
And what of you? Shall you vent? Shall you recant that ground as
You remain touched down on Earth rather than the meanderings
Into the supernova of the mind - the vestibule, the atrium and my
Valve, six cylinders prepped for roulette once I yell "Go Black Jack!"
And thy tavern du esprit, for whatever it is worth, just cut off your
Tab, demanding now that you pay down on this lush ol' House....

If It's Me You Believe

"If It's Me You Believe"

Written by Jonathan Henderson

Sunday November 30, 2014 @ 7:11 AM

The skipping of my stone rations a gently seismic ripple in the pond... and

O' I believe it is time to sail my boat as the moon's baton directs His Opus
 Magnus as the crickets bow their legs - Nature's violin ensemble of Lord
Knows all, and while pickin' daisies, blowin' into the wind those cottony
Ol' dandelions whose helicopters, like a white snow sprouting only from 
The ground, are to fly! fly! fly! Fly me away, and home to my eternal spa
Where the waters never age and there need never be good reasoning to
Read into the crystal ball, to stand tall as that gypsy queen on a new day's
Halloween foretells a life yet to be, but if you shall never believe me, well
That's just fine - I shall fly away! Way A-way! Light as a feather and even
Less busy like a bee, the pot dullened as that honey sweet just dried away.

Fantastic though my story's told, it's only applicable if it's me you'll believe
And not the fiction of an eternal sunrise preparing to enter the vestibule of
My blank mind - and how my life has been quite unkind! Yet 'tis God who
Always informs me to sail my clipper 'cross the Atlantic hurricane, the gale
Screaming as a queen in the heat of a bristly tryst - and I'm alive amid this
Bliss! Sunkissed! A tan indicative St. Thomas of the Bahama Island's sound
Singing to me a tune too intoxicating in amorous delight to simply e any old
Siren; her erotic shrill a cappella pitch, so sweet, ma belle St. Marie - and O'!
How I do hope you'll believe me now, for life is such a sacrificial cow, and if
We could be seen right now as tonight descends on our fateful forevers, and
Never a day to pass us along by and by, and indeed I sigh for in translation
I never was lost, but died a spiritual dive into my hellish immolation - and how
My spirit shall never be free of thee so long as life continues to "be", to exist.

Year Zero Down, an Eternity to Go

"Year Zero Down, an Eternity to Go"

Written by Jonathan Henderson

Friday November 28, 2014 @ 12:07AM

Year Zero without you at the table, begging for random kernels

Popped just as I handled you with care, and I hope you knew as

I still do now more than ever before - how I'll always love you so.

Time only sailed the stormy gales of the sands of the hourglass's

Granules, so small and yet as microcosms, a world all their own

Because the tell tales with so much to behold - and o'! Now you're Gone and I've suddenly taken a cold -

And if I never told you each moment at our home how I loved you,

It was one chance missed out of so many I'd waste, for by our time,

Measures are merely pithy condemnations for how we shall never

Control, for science only knows a tangible end to the beginning of "No".

Almighty God planted for each a cedar, a trunk firm as its age-old

Rings tell of many a tale, but I digress at yours within that wooden

Home, and how you are home, where no tempest shall uproot you

So long as there is an Eternity for you and me to spare.

Road to Nowhere - Sao Paulo, Brazil

Road to Nowhere tunnel - Bryson City, NC, USA

Cedar Tree

"Cedar Tree"

Written by Jonathan Henderson 

Tuesday November 25, 2014 @ 5:32 PM

Post a baker's dozen and four and O'! she's forever seen but 

Now that root is gone, burnt to ashes, the winds blow her 

Asunder, I shall never pray away for another blunder...

The holidays never mean so well in that mind of mine, 'tis

In an unkind hell more cold than hot, pure azure in its ice

Than all the inferno Dante could cast me away...

Ornaments once were sacrosanct, but I confess, they'll not

Be now nor ever or again, and I shall break the tidings only

To commiserate the first bleak day when Fate cut down my

Cedar Tree a-whole...

Shall I sail the starry seas of the blackened coal skies as 

I am pondering just when I shall find those Kingsfords inside

And what I need - and what I see is how I wish my beloved

Cedar Tree could come home, to climb that stairway once 

And no further times, to stare into her emerald eyes - the 

Most soulful to haunt of my heart, as we'd dine a la carte,

No pain nor mercy driving me insane, so should she feel o'

So serene, and let our spirits purr as the motorboats coast

Down that River Jordan, content with our one last time.

This Winter of Discontent Segues into a New Life of Spring

This Winter of Discontent Segues into a New Life of Spring

Written by Jonathan Henderson

Monday November 24, 2014 @ 3:13 PM

Those trumpets now herald the dawn of a new day, for it

Shall always be the brightest, for all other days blended

To one, and if one ever dreamt the sun shall never again

Shine, well that is fine, but don't you dare sip another of

His wine -  for no one told you that vino would ever be

Plucked from a vine in that Italian countryside in rustic

Lombardy and its villa and looking ever onward, nor of

The Sun King as he lived lavishly inside Versailles, only

Of history's charge of the Light Brigade until Sevastopol

Was sacked, and boy! Wasn't Nightingale sans so many

Naps as she cared for warriors whose hearts far more

Luminescent than any bar of gold bullion -and I believe

Faith dealt you a currency its riches can never exchange.

Charge! Charge! I beseech you press forth, for no good

Is ever won if not the malicious to be defied, no easy time

To pay the dime you earned, for nothing is something, and

Something shall never be nothing - 'tis the laws of nature's

God, and God is Sovereign; He grants thee His Truth to be

Acquired by the blade of a crusader, and He has faith that

You have yours, too - and look at you! The triumph shall

Be soon! Come the break of dawn or tonight's moon or

Tomorrow shall bid thee soon the reward of l'esprit

De coeur! This winter of discontent shall segue into its

Newest life of Spring, and so shall you along the road

To the next sweet lullaby song, the break of a new dawn

And a daylight infinite in its possibilities, and so it shall be.

The Drift of the Unconscious Sufferer

"The Drift of the Unconscious Sufferer"

Written by Jonathan Henderson 

Wednesday November 19, 2014 12:27 AM

My suffrage of the temperance of the soul, depravity sings

Of the long acquaintance in my mind, that it be thine own

Mind, pontificating as it will, or as you never were nor may

You ever - Charge up that hill! 'Tis uphill, but those men in

The hilarity of their passe white coats of infamy peeping so

Far down into the precipice of an abyss to crown my very

Boorish countenance a lost cause in the catacombs along

The banks of the River Styx, doing all I may to steer clear

Of the gnashing mongrel Cerberus and his knives amid the

Rim of despair's capacity to forever tear my apparatus from

Limb to limb - Habare corpus ut daret - and my home! O! O!

My home! Mala fortuna! Another one of me now bitten of that

Lazarus respirat ultimum... Nunc est mea tempus relinquere 

Pro bono. Bon opportuna ad futura ad infinitum....

Flying Home to My Fair Andorra

"Flying Home to My Fair Andorra" 

Written by Jonathan Henderson 

Monday November 17, 2014 @ 9:14 PM

Like an eagle flying o'er the Pyrennes' rocky mountain high, 

From Iberia West coasting to Barcelona's seabed blending

As with pastels with my daytime sky - and I cry! Tears just

Cascade into the entrenchments, just flooding my fair lady

Andorra's sweet tidings, for I escaped los toros de Navarre!

How I did not drive your car! But had I so, I'd never know just

What that atmosphere on the cafe patio as we sip of our pre

Siesta java al fresco, and those ocean waves 'cross those

Emerald and blue shores my Mediterranean soul feeds, and 

That breeze! How it doth tease away my life with ease! And 

So please, my fair Andorra, I beg of thee, let that chill in the

Autumn night air slip fly a kiss of bliss on my fat, rosy cheek

As I wave to mi munde loco "Hasta la vista para el es la

Despidida, mi senorita dulce, hermosa"... and the song shall 

Go on, and ever onward ad infinitum....