Cagney King - Artist
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      LET ME TAKE YOU TO A PLACE 

      Let me take you to a place
      A place where
      Shovels hang on fences
      Ice picks on sheds

      The village idiot puts razors
      On the feet of bug-eyed crazy chickens
      And grows dogs starved to fight 

      The drunken neighbor
      Looks the other way
      While she sits…and sits…and sits
      Crocheting lies in warm blankets 

      The sign of the times
      Is the electric bill
      Lighting street lights that glow
      On paths to nowhere 

      There are dead animals
      In live traps
      Black cats eat their kittens
      And hiss sickly warnings 

      Blind dogs summon underground
      Animals that bump into rocks
      Causing silent screams 

      Your heart beats in a blues rhythm
      Slowly thumping and building
      To an explosive end 

      The earth is alive
      With worms
      Crawling through roots and telling lies
      Causing birds to frantically fly into windows
      Fighting their reflections
      Trying to nest their souls against winter winds
      And summer whispers

      GEORGIA ON MY MIND

      The soft slam of the screen door
      Announcing the end of the day
      Rosy cheeks and warm smiles
      Await on the other side
      In well rehearsed and worn rocking chairs
      Lightening bugs left to die in a mason jar
      Stirred to life by the Buzzzzzzz-ring
      Of the doorbell
      Basement projects with old tools and paint
      Homemade go carts with wobbly wheels
      And a rope to steer
      Fueled by laughter and gravity
      Stopped by the flat spot at the bottom of the hill
      Cracked sidewalks and scraped knees
      Red clay stains and fire ants
      Afternoon thunderstorms lead to
      Countless hands of 500 Rum
      Grandma’s recipe of sweet pickles once dill
      Sugar cookies and sweet tea
      Tall pines and winding hills
      Mass on Sunday once Latin now not
      Followed by fried chicken and stick onions
      Stone Mountain and General Lee
      The Varsity
      Krystal Burgers
      New summer sneakers and hair cuts
      Emory University with Foreign Films and Art to see
      Fox Theatre; Peachtree Street
      Margaret Mitchell and Willie B
      All now Gone with the wind, but will always be
      Georgia on My Mind

      BLACK DOG

      The black dog is loose
      The black dog is on the run
      I want to run free
      Free in your mind
      A silent partner
      To your thoughts

      There is no time
      I’m stuck in this moment
      My soul might die here

      Dog is god
      God is a dog
      A black dog
      The black dog is on the run

      Philosophy is found
      On the bark of the black dog
      Not that tree

      I’m chased by the black dog
      Keeper of dark days
      Even darker nights

      Drink it all
      Still can’t sleep
      I see you
      In my dreams
      You are uninvited
      I am the black dog

      WHEN I AM OLD

      When I am old
      Will I sit alone?
      In a café
      Stirring my coffee
      Black
      With paint stained hands

      Will I stare?
      At youth
      With longing or relief
      Will I hold their gaze?
      Or re-direct my glance

      Was I a good friend?
      A great lover
      A respected rival

      Will I remember the books?
      Books I read
      Songs I sang
      The philosophies and lessons
      That rang

      Will blue still look blue?
      And compliment yellow
      Will the black dog
      Sit and stay
      Or run away

      The work is done
      The coffee is cold
      What will I do?
      When I am old

      LISTENING IN COLOUR

      Close your mind’s eye
      Let colour fill your silence

      The sound of yellow calling blue
      …ring around the roses…
      Violent violet scraped on knees
      …pocket full of posies…
      Green screams and orange hides
      …we all fall down…
      Fall down and touch red
      Hold it close and listen to its cries

      Listen to the colours

      Red ants march in yellow corn meal
      Blue raisins shrivel in pudding treats
      Grey ashes float in cold coffee
      Paint on brush
      Across canvas
      Through hair

      Churchill’s black dog barks
      Philosophy under grey skies
      Black birds nest in yellow ochre
      Umber branches scrape paint chipped
      Window panes
      White whips and snaps in wind

      Listen to the colours

      Erase black
      Replace with blue
      Scratch white and it’s yellow
      Listen to the colours
      The colours are talking to you

      BRITTANY SPANIEL
      The hot mid-day sun caused momentary
      Blindness as she entered the dark auction barn
      The stench of un-wanted animals
      Over-whelmed her senses

      Sight, once adjusted, lands on
      Spitting llamas, with wide, black eyes
      Of shock and confusion

      Old, tired goats with miss-shaped horns
      Flattened by age and curled at awkward angles
      Stared back in panic. 

      Stocks of wire cages full of chickens
      Line hastily built plank walls
      The chickens defecated on the rabbit cages below. 

      Used incubators with yellowed fixtures and frayed wires
      Cardboard boxes tied with string with holes poked through
      For air to help whatever struggles inside to breathe. 

      There – there she was – in the middle of all the stink Heat and chaos
      In a cage two sizes too small for her frightened frame.
      “Husband couldn’t stop beating her” the man said, “so the wife Said to take her to the auction and get rid of her.” 

      “What kind of dog is she?” She asked.
      “Brittany Spaniel” he said, walking away into the shadows And sawdust of the auction arena, passing a sign that read:
      No Dogs Allowed.

      THE GARDEN 

      My minds shadows are cast
      Over your emptiness
      Leaving us both in darkness 

      In the garden
      Ideas are suspended snakes
      Threading their way through memory cells
      Fighting to stay alive with you 

      Monkeys attach themselves
      To every limb
      Demanding explanations 

      Bugs crawl in and on your skin
      Causing silent screams
      To reach up to infinity 

      In this garden
      Nakedness is anger
      Surrounded by weeds 

      In this garden
      Nakedness is a cloak of anger
      Tickled by weeds
      Irritated by reality 

      In this garden
      Thick cloud formations
      Frame the death of photosynthesis
      A cool wind
      Blows your scent from my window 

      Sleep only prolongs the
      Reality of death
      My love is real sick
      My dog is blind
      And the landscaping doesn’t hide
      The truth 

      In this garden
      The birds will pick you clean
      Leaving your frame of truth
      Revealed
      Never to be picked

      FALLING

      If I could breathe
         I would cry
      If I could cry
         I could breathe

      I’m not afraid to die
      I am afraid to fall
      It’s Einstein’s theory
      Falling needs no explanation
      Gravity will absorb the speed
      Of your fall

      A person falling
      Freely feels
      No force of gravity

      These are the thoughts
      That bends fenders and tightens ropes
      Nobody knows the sadness
      Hiding behind blue eyes
      That is cracked mirrors

      Cloudy windows
      Grey cotton
      Snagging on black trees
      Acting like thoughts
      Even though
      I put them there

      ANTS IN MY CORN MEAL

      There are ants in my corn meal
      Ashes in my coffee
      Here I am
      Broken in two
      Invisible today
      Lonely
      Dark and hollow

      Smoke it anyway
      We’re all going to die
      Smoke your dreams
      Live your nightmares

      Eating Melba toast
      With green butter chips
      In a blue café
      Crying green
      Through red eyes

      Dead birds
      Hanging themselves
      Near the clothesline
      My empty thoughts
      Are rockers
      On a sunny porch

      I’m NOT naïve
      You can cut your hair
      And grow your past
      There are such things as
      Slow cigars and fast women

      Dead grass still grows
      It grows and grows
      It won’t stop growing
      Growing grass
      Hiding jagged rocks
      Broken ankles

      Drinking and driving only
      Gets you there on time
      Pour me a drink
      Liquefy my tension

      IN THE DARK

      Burdens of the dark
      Too heavy
      It can’t hold up for long
      Dark is so heavy
      I’m in the dark

      I’m in the dark
      Left of your heart
      The voices screaming
      Stop fighting the darkness
      Live in it

      Dead animals
      Represent our souls
      My soul might die here
      I look up from the hole
      Still dark

      Brutal dark hangs thick
      Faceless fear becomes the norm
      End it all
      Still dark
      Haiku

      TEARS IN HEAVEN

      As the wind blows
      East and west
      So does the bird fly
      On wings of regret

      Broken hearts
      Reaching up not out
      Grabbing and grabbing
      Enclosing minds in fists of hate

      Dry hurt drains
      Into blind eyes
      No
      Not hate
      Painful love

      A sister can’t help

      She can only hold
      Only hold the bucket
      That will hold the tears
      In heaven

      Cagney King : King Studios - 2 West Main St., Greenfield, IN. 46140