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.