MY PROPHET RISING

  My prophet rises from snow-white sands. He is cut & bruised with bloody hands. His metamorphosis is marked by purple flowering feathered wings immaculately conceived. He reaches into the eye of the sky & fondles memories from before my time, back when this river flowed with twice its heart & the sky more volatile…

GO BACK TO YOUR OWN COUNTRY

We are odd creatures, aren’t we? With the same information, we come to absolute opposite conclusions. For instance, there are people who think these four women below in the news clip inserted, are the lunatic. idiotic, anti-American fringe, while there are those who believe that without these women, our planet, forget about our nation’s laws…

THE CHILDREN OF BLISS STREET

WRITTEN BY SCOTT UTLEY “STOOPS TO NUTS” WOODSIDE-QUEENS-NEW YORK CITY A WARM SPRING DAY IN APRIL,1972. BLISS STREET IS A VERITABLE BEEHIVE OF ACTIVITY. STICK BALL PLAYERS OUT CUSS EACH OTHER FOR ATTENTION. A FIRE ENGINE IN FULL THROTTLE SCREECHES UP THE STREET WHILE VARIOUS NEIGHBORS CONVERSE FROM ONE APARTMENT WINDOW TO THE OTHER. THERE…

MOON BEING

Part of my face is an immense crater. It is here I spend all my free time, sitting beside myself sipping tea on the lips of my cheek bones.  We talk endlessly about your perfection; what a profound  defect of character that is.  We then respond ad infinitum. We compare notes. We laugh, cry, and wistfully whine,  sitting…

A FINE, FINE DAY

Let lovers be born upon holy ground on this fine, fine, day. May they grow happy, healthy and free. Let there be peacemakers born onto this earth on this grand, grand, day. May they follow the footsteps of Jesus, Gandhi, and King. Let there be shamans born into this world on this most spectacular of…

TAMING THE BEAST

Pour your soul into my heart. My body is your sacred chalice. Swim in the warm waters of my mind. Wash your wounds in the sea of me. Nourish the belly of your beast with succulents from the bounty of my harvest.  

IS IT ANY WONDER? SOPHIE ELLIS BEXTOR ~ SCOTT UTLEY

I was born of vapor rising from the hairline cracks of skyscrapers. I could fly before I could run. I could run before I could walk. I’ve seen the world in flames. I’ve heard my mother sobbing. I know your pain because I am an old man dying. I am the wind that churns. I…

PERFECT FROM THE START

I was born a prodigal son with tattoos plastered across my face. In a mysterious & enchanting old-world script they said, “Dear Mother, I will recklessly forget your glory. I will scatter the riches you give me upon a sweet, naive & unsuspecting full moon. I will choose to suffer before healing. I will rip my…

ALBERTO GIACOMETTI ~ SCOTT UTLEY ~ I’ll FIND MY WAY HOME ~ JON & VANGELIS

Our planet? A trillion times infinity. Our nation? Simply a quark in a maze that defies the logical, a  paradox more than brilliant surrealist expression. She is lost in a spiraling galaxy within the heart of modern man. Look overseas. Pierce your consciousness. Elucidate the meaning of your purpose. Speak your inquiries unto the southern hemisphere. Seek answers north, seek reason south, then reverse, about-face, repeat.