FANS

THEY POP UP BEHIND YOU
IN SILLY SURPRISE
AND STAND THERE
SMILING WITH
BIG BRIGHT EYES
WANTING TO TOUCH
AND SHAKE A HAND
SHY AND HALF-NERVOUS
MAKING A STAND,
AS I WANDER THE
FESTIVAL SHOOTING
THE ARTISTS
I MEET QUITE A FEW
THAT KNOW ME
ON CUE
THEY WATCH THE TV SHOW
WHILE CREATING
THE WORK
THAT BRINGS THEM
TO MARKET
ON HIGHT END ALERT,
THEY STAND BEHIND
COUNTERS, SHUFFLING
THEIR FEET,
PUSHING AHEAD
WHILE BEING DISCREET,
JUST TRYING TO
SHOW THEIR WARES,
IT’S A HARD ACT
TO MAINTAIN
WHILE NOBODY CARES,
THEN WE ARRIVE TO
QUERY AND TOUCH,
WHILE WE REALLY DO FILM
AND FULFILL THEM
AS SUCH,
AND IN BACK OF
MY HEAD
I REMEMBER INSTEAD
THE SAME EXACT FEELINGS
THAT LEFT ME IN REELING
AND SCARED SENSATION
WAS IT LONG AGO
OR JUST THE OTHER DAY
WHEN I WAS TRYING
TO WIN THEIR WAY,
RECOGNITION COMES
SLOWLY, LIKE RINGING
A BELL, FIRST YOU
YANK AND YOU PULL
AND GO THROUGH
SOME HELL, PUSHING
TO FIND THE GROOVE
THAT WILL FIT.
MAKE THE GOODS
PUBLIC AND ALWAYS
A HIT,

Westend Festival
 
THE FANS WATCH
ALL THIS AS
THEY ASK FOR A TOKEN
I KINDLY OBLIGE
FOR MY HEART HAS
BEEN BROKEN
MANY A TIME
AS I WAITED MY TURN
FOR THE SPOTLIGHT
TO BURN ME
END THE SWEET YEARN
FIND AND RETURN ME,
THEY SURELY DON’T
REALIZE
JUST WHERE I
HAVE BEEN
OR THAT ALL THESE
GREAT COMPLIMENTS ARE
TAKEN AGAIN
IN THE DUSK OF THE
EVENING
WHEN I’M HOME
AND ALONE,
LOOKING AT PHOTOS
AND MOVIES AND PHONES,
THEY GIVE ME A WARMTH
THAT HAS NOT BEEN AWAITED
OR VALUED WITH EASE:
THEY JUST ASK
FOR A HUG
AND AIM TO PLEASE
WAIT FOR A HANDSHAKE
AND SLIGHTLY RETRIEVE,
IT’S THE BEST OF ALL
GIFTS,
WHEN THE PARADIGM
SHIFTS,
AND YOUR PART
COMES TO HELP AND
CONFER,
THE WHEEL TURNS
THE EARTH BURNS
WITH EXOTIC ALLURE
AND FATE SENDS A KISS
WHEN THESE
THINGS OCCUR:
THE LOVE AND THE PAIN
BECOME A HOT BLUR…

©J.W. WINSLOW 9/1/15

REBOOT

IN THE QUIET CALM
OF A SUMMER MORNING
IT SEEMS IMPOSSIBLE
THAT THERE WOULD BE
A CLOUD IN THE SKY,
YOU DON’T EVEN TRY
TO IMAGINE,
JUST SMILE AND DWELL
ON SOMETHING SWELL,
LIKE THE NEW BABY
COMING TO MY FAMILY,
A WEDDING PLANNED
IN THE COUNTRY BRAND
WITH NEW MEMBERS
ADDING TO THE
PLETHORA OF NATIONS
INVOLVED,
WE HAVE EVOLVED
INTO A GROUP
OF FAR FLUNG
GENIUS, NOT OF
MYSELF DO I SPEAK
BUT THE NEW ONES
WHO CHALLENGE
AND CLIMB TO
THE PEAKS,
WHILE BACK
AT THE RANCH,
ON THE SHORES
OF BIG BLUE,
THERE ARE PASSIONATE
PROJECTS
ABOUT TO COME THROUGH,
I SNEAK OUT AND
WATER BEFORE
THE CURFEW
AND SMILE AT A NEWLY
BLOWN ORCHID,
PUSHING OUT FROM
A HARD MOVE
AND A NEW POT,
THERE WILL BE
A BLOOM
BETTER MAKE ROOM
IN MY STYLING
ALWAYS BEGUILING
FLOWERS TO HONOR
THE DAY,

Reboot
 

I AM FULL OF A
MESSAGE THAT
LOOPS IN MY HEAD
TO BE GRATEFUL
AND THANKFUL
FOR WHAT LIES AHEAD
ALTHOUGH I KNOW NOTHING
AND NEITHER DO YOU,
IT WILL BE A WONDER
TO WATCH IT COME TRUE,
YOU EITHER BELIEVE
OR YOU DON’T,
AND LIFE WILL HAPPEN
OR IT WON’T,
SO THE GUYS WHO
HAVE COME HERE
TO FIX ALL MY STUFF
HAVE LEFT ME INSTRUCTIONS
ON HOW TO BE TOUGH,
TAKE A BREATH
AND BE PATIENT,
UNPLUG AND WAIT
FOR A SILLY TEN
SECONDS AND
THEN OUT THE GATE,
IT WORKS EVERY TIME
IN LIFE AND PURSUIT
WHENEVER IN DOUBT
PLUNGE IN
AND REBOOT!

©J.W. WINSLOW 8/1/15

THE OAKIE FROM TIGERTAIL

THIS IS NOT A TALL
STORY OF BACKWOODS
AND GLORY,
OR A GUY WHO ONCE
LIVED IN A SHACK
HE WAS BORN AND BRED
HOLLYWOOD,
JUNGLE AND JOLLYWOOD
LOTS OF WILD THINGS
IN THAT HEAD,
WE SHARE THE STREET
WHERE OUR FAMILIES
MIGHT MEET,
WHERE THEY ZOOMED
ON HARLEY’S WITH
MCQUEEN AND CHARLEY,
WE DID THE BEACHES
AND WAVES,
AND LATER IN LIFE
FOUND THIS LOVELY
CONNECTION,
THE TIGERTAIL BRENTWOOD
AND FILM PERFECTION,
SO MEETING AS SORCERCERS
TO FOLLOW THE COURSE
OF MY WRITING AND
LIFE AND MY GAME,
HE JUMPED INTO PLACE
AND JOINED IN THE RACE
TO PUMP UP THE
FORTUNE AND FAME,
I ASSUMED WE WERE
HOOKED
BY THE MUSIC AND BOOKS
HE LOVES THE TALES
OF MYSTIC BIG SUR
AND JOINED ME
TO ORCHESTRATE
JUST WHAT WILL OCCUR,
I NEVER IMAGINED HIS
BOOTS AND BIG SMILE
WERE PART OF A
TREASURED FAN
OF THE YOKELS,
HE TURNS OUT TO
BE SO VERY COUNTRY,
AMONG THE DANDIFIED
LOCALS,

406045c64704af629e118eb1cb9b7779
 
THE MUSIC IS STRUMMED
THE LYRICS ARE
HUMMED, SOMEWHAT
SAPPY, CORNY AND DUMB,
BUT NEVERMIND,
HE’S OUT THERE BEHIND
OR IN FRONT OF THE BAND
MAKING A STAND
DANCING HIS LITTLE
HEART OUT,
WHILE I, INSTEAD
SEE FUCHSIA, NOT
RED,
PREFERRING TO
TWIST AND SHOUT,
SO THE ROCKER REMAINS
AND BARELY CONSTRAINS
A GIGGLE
WHEN THE COUNTRYFIED
MAN DOES HIS SWIRLY
SWEET STAND
AND MAYBE A BIT
OF A WIGGLE,
I FIND MYPEACE
WITH THE SWEET
RELEASE OF
THE FACT THAT
WE BOTH LOVE
THE MUSIC,
WE MEET IN THE
CENTER
AND HE IS MY MENTOR
ACROSS ALL THE LINES
WHERE WE SWING
AND SHINE!

©J.W. WINSLOW 7/1/15

 

Mourning_Dove_2006

THE RATS

ONE WOULD NEVER
HAVE KNOWN
FROM THE LOOKS
OF THINGS,
FROM FOGGY NIGHTS
IN EARLY SPRING
AND SUMMERS
FULL OF WILY PINGS,
THE HAPPINESS
FROM VOICES IN
TUNE,
PARTIES IN JUNE
FEATURING MASTER
GUITARS AND
NEAR FAMOUS ROCK
STARS, AND
SCRUMPTIOUS EDIBLES
LACED IN AND OUT,
THE SOFT SMOOTH
BREEZES, THE AERIAL
SNEEZES THAT COME
FROM POLLEN
AND JOY,
THEY WERE HIDDEN
BEHIND THE LUSH
GIANT BUSHES,
SET WAY BACK
AGAINST THE TRACK,
NEVER TO BE SEEN
OR HEARD, EXCEPT
PERHAPS DURING
THE DEAD OF NIGHT,
WHEN UPON AWAKENING
THERE WERE LITTLE FEET
SCAMPERING ON THE
ANCIENT ROOF,
I THOUGHT IT
WAS THE NIGHT
BIRD, WHO SANG
NEAR MY WINDOW
SWAYING AWAY
AND SLEEPING BY
DAY,

BUT ALAS
IN THE SPLENDOR
OF MY INNOCENT
DREAMS, THE RODENTS
WERE PARTYING
NASTY AND MEAN,
CAMOFLAGUED
BY FOLIAGE AND
SKILL,
FROLICKING
STEALTHILY
DRESSED TO KILL,
THEY SHOWED ME
REMAINS ON THE
DAY I DEPARTED,
SAD AND CONFUSED
AND SO BROKEN
HEARTED, TO THINK
THAT THE RATS
WERE SHARING
MY SPACE, SNEERING
AND LETHAL, THEY
LAUGHED IN
MY FACE,
IT’S A STRANGE
WAY TO END
A LONG RUN OF
DREAMS, BUILT UPON
STARLIGHT
AND FIXATED
SCHEMES,
THE MEN SENT
THEM SCURRYING
OVER THE HILL
FAR AND AWAY
TO ANOTHER
BIG CHILL,
AND I TRAVELED
ON TO THE PLACE
I CALL HOME,
WONDERING HOW
I COULD EVER
HAVE KNOWN,
AS I TIPTOED
ON FRAGRANT
GROUND, THAT
THE DANGER
AND FEAR
WERE ALWAYS
QUITE NEAR,
THEY WOULD
HAVE ME FOR
LUNCH, (PERHAPS
IN A CRUNCH)
BUT SOMEONE
WATCHED OVER ME
AND LED ME AWAY
FOR ANOTHER FINE
LIFE AND
THIS BEAUTIFUL DAY,
IT TRULY HAS
FLUMMOXED
AND BLOWN ME AWAY,
NOW I SING WITH
THE DOVES,
FULL OF PROMISE
AND LOVE!

©J.W. WINSLOW 6/1/15

 

HOUSE OF DREAMS

THE HOUSE OF DREAMS
APPEARED QUITE BY
CHANCE, UNINVITED
AND VERY PUT OFF
BY A CROWD SHOWING
THAT MADE ME RUN,
TAIL BETWEEN MY LEGS
WONDERING AT MY FATE
A LITTLE TOO LATE
FOR SPILLED MILK,
THE TIME HAD COME
TO MAKE PURSES OF SILK
AND OWN UP TO MY
REAL BACKYARD,
THAT PLACE WHERE YOU
STUFF THE YEARNINGS
OF FORMER DAYS
AND SECRET JOURNIES
INTO A BOX FOR TOMORROW,
NOTHING LIKE A LITTLE
REALITY TO AWAKEN EVEN THE
DEEPEST TEMPTATIONS,
SO AS I SEARCHED FOR
A PLACE TO HANG
MY HAT,
IT SEEMED TO KEEP
COMING BACK,
THAT WILD WIDE VIEW
THE ROLLING WAVES
THE PLACE THAT REMINDED
ME OF ART DECO
AND MY AUNT’S PARTIES,
TIME AFTER TIME
I DENIED,
UNTIL FINALLY DEMANDING
A PRIVATE SHOWING,
THERE WAS NO GOING BACK,
FOR I HAD SUNK INTO
THE TRAP OF DESIRE,
YOU KNOW THE ONE
WHERE IT LOOPS
LIKE A SONG HOOK,
TRAVELING THROUGH
EVERY THOUGHT
EACH TIME
ANOTHER RHYME,
ALL THE SAME

view
 
AND THEN I STOOD
OUTSIDE
ON A DAY MEANT
FOR PICTURES
AND KNEW THE GHOSTS
OF THE PAST
WOULD NOT LAST
IN MY MIND,
IT WAS TIME TO
PLAY THE HAND
SLIPPED INTO MY
BACK POCKET,
SETTLING ONCE
AND FOR ALL
THE FATE OF MY GRACE,
NO SAD STORIES
NO GOODBYES,
NO TIME TO JUMP THE
FENCE,
NO TINY BLUE LIES,
I WROTE THE CHECK
AND CLOSED THE DOOR
ON A PAST MIXED
WITH ALL KINDS OF SCENES,
BUT NOW I HAVE
THE HOUSE OF MY DREAMS.

©J.W. WINSLOW 5/1/15

 

Birthday Girl

AUDACIOUS

THERE’S A FABULOUS
SUNKEN TUB
WITH JETS AND
STREAMS
MEANT FOR A BATH
FULL OF HOPES
AND DREAMS,
STATUES AND
CARVINGS
AT LEAST
SEVEN DECKS,
A LOT OF
REDWOOD
WHICH REALLY
REFLECTS
THE MOOD OF
THE COAST,
THE VIEWS
AND THE CUES
THAT SEND
THE WHITEWATER
ABOUT WHICH
WE BOAST,
I POKE AROUND
HOUSES
COMPLETELY
UNKNOWN
I HAVE TO MOVE ON
MY COVER IS
BLOWN,
I HAVE MARCHING
ORDERS
TO BEGIN A
NEW SEARCH,
NO DELAYS
WELCOME,
DON’T BE
LEFT IN THE
LURCH,
ALL THE WHILE
I AM THINKING
ABOUT SOME
THINGS PAST
AND HOW I
BELIEVED THAT
ALL THIS WOULD
LAST, BUT
KNOWING THE
WAYS AND
SCHEMES OF
THE WORLD,

AND LANDLORDS
AND DEAMONS
IN THE SWAY
AND SWIRL,
I GO AND SIT
QUIETLY
COMPOSING
MYSELF, A VISION
OF HEAVEN
AND FRAGRANT
GOOD HEALTH
WHICH COMES
TO THE TOP
A MIASMA OF
GLORY
I AM WRITING
THE PROLOGUE
TO MY OWN
PRIVATE STORY,
NOT DYANNA
OR JOHN,
OR KEVIN
OR UMA,
ALTHOUGH THEY
EXIST IN MY MIND,
NO, THIS FUTURE
LIFE IS A
PRIVATE DEVICE,
THE DOOR HAS
REOPENED
TO LOVERS
AND VICE,
THE PATH ROLLS
AHEAD,
I AM LAYING ASIDE
AND WAITING FOR
HEAVEN TO
TO BECOME
MY GUIDE,
EXPECTING THE
NEW, AND THE
UNFORSEEN,
TAKE MY HAND
AND TRAVEL
WITH ME, WE BOTH
SHALL COME CLEAN,
NUANCES FLOWING
JASMINE AND GREEN
SURPRISES
AWAIT US,
KNOW WHAT I MEAN?

©J.W. WINSLOW 4/1/15

 

Family

TEN: FORTY THREE

ABUNDANCE
OF ROSES
FUSCHIA AND SPICE
GREEN SHOOTS
AND VOLUNTEERS
ALL THAT IS
NICE,
FINDING ACCEPTANCE
IN EVERYDAY
THINGS
IS THE RESONANT
POWER
OF QUEENS
AND THEIR KINGS,
FOR WHEN YOU
LAY DOWN
AND LET IT
ALL FLOW,
WILD STRONG
OR SOFTLY,
THEN YOU WILL
KNOW
THE SECRET TO
SHINING
THE POWER OF
CARE
THE SOUNDS OF
THE MUSIC
THE PURE
SALTY AIR,
THE JOY OF
YOUR BODY
DELIVERS A NOTE
ALL ABOUT
FREEDOM
AND JUST HOW
TO FLOAT,
ALLOWING
THE WAYS OF
THE WORLD
TO SUCCUMB
AND SIT AT YOUR
FEET, FOR A
CHAT AND A PLUM,
SO FINDING THE
COURAGE
TO JUMP IN
THE MIX
WATCHING
THE AUDIENCE
LEARNING
THE TRICKS
IS A SECRET
THAT KNOWS
IN REVEALING
ITSELF
TO ALL WHO
REACH OUT
AND LOOK
FOR THE HELP,
THE WORDS
AND THE PICTURES
THE FILMS AND
THE VIEWS
THE WAY THEY
TELL STORIES
AND ALL OF
THAT NEWS,
PUT IT ASIDE
AND THINK
FOR YOURSELF,
BE TRUE TO
THE SOUL
AND THE
GLORIOUS
WEALTH
OF THINGS
THAT ARE
SIMPLE
AND HONEST
AND FREE,
THOSE ARE
THE THINGS
BETWEEN
YOU AND ME!
 
©J.W. WINSLOW 3/1/15

 

DEAD TOUR PHOTO
SAIL ON, ROCK!

FISHNET TIGHTS
BLUE VELVET BOOTS
OPEN TOES
JUST TO SHOW
THE KIND OF SNAZZY
JAZZY FEEL
OF THIS PLACE
RIBBONS AND LACE
ALL DECKED OUT
TO ROLL
AND SHOUT,
THE PARTY
HANGS AND
SHAGS ABOUT
A MAN WHO MADE
THE BIG PARADE
SO MANY MOONS AGO,
THE EBB AND FLOW
OF TIME HAS
BROUGHT US HERE,
SO WILD
AND DEAR
TO CELEBRATE
AND CALIBRATE
EAT AND DRINK
AND COGITATE
THE MEMORY OF
THE DEAD,
GRATEFUL THAT IS
FOR ROCK WAS A
WHIZ AND SENSITIVE
MAN WITH A
MARVELOUS PLAN
BACK IN THE DAY
WHEN CRAZED
WAS ABLAZE, THE STREETS
OF THE CITY
THE PARKS
AND THE TOWNS
LEARNED OF THE
MUSIC AND GAVE
THEM THE CROWN,
TONITE THEY
TURNED OUT
TO CLAP AND SHOUT,
SAY WORDS OF LOVE
AND PRAISE AND HUMOR
FRIENDS BOTH FAMOUS
AND SIMPLY RUMOR,
THE MUSIC FLOWED
FROM GRATEFUL HEARTS
THE ROOM WAS PACKED
WITH FILM AND ARTS,
PHOTOS OF FAMOUS
AND MYSTICAL STARS
PEOPLE LONG GONE
(MAYBE TO MARS)
HIS FAMILY APPEARED
TO HONOR HIS NAME
AND THE REST OF US
JOINED THE MEMORY
GAME,
AS I STOOD IN THE HALLS
AND WATCHED THE
BEAT, I WONDERED IF
HIS LIFE WAS EVER
COMPLETE, FOR NOW HE
WATCHES THAT PIE
IN THE SKY, WONDERING HOW
ALL THIS OCCURRED,
HE WROTE THE STORY
WORD FOR WORD, SLIPPING
BACK BEHIND
THE SCENES
GIVING THE REST OF
US TIME TO DREAM,
QUIET AND FUNNY
VIBRANT AND SUNNY,
QUIRKY AND SMART
A SOULFUL DEPARTURE
HE MIGHT HAVE PLANNED
QUICKLY AND SOFTLY
TO ROCK & ROLL LAND,
HE’S THERE WITH JERRY,
AND THEY ARE MERRY,
TRULY ALLOWING THE
GRACE,
NOW ROCK SCULLY
IS FACE TO FACE
IN MEMORY, IN JOY
A FITTING DEPARTURE
FOR A FABULOUS BOY!
 

©J.W. WINSLOW 2/1/15

 

Home

HAVE THE GODS
SMILED ON US
THIS CHRISTMAS DAY,
SENDING THE DEER
TO GRAZE, THE SUN
TO SHINE,
GIFTS OPEN UNDER
THE TREE,
THE POWER IS ON,
THERE IS TIME
FOR A BIKE RIDE
AND WALK ON
THE WILD ROAD
FULL OF MEMORIES,
WE FIND TOURISTS
FROM ALL CORNERS
RACES AND COLORS
SNAPPING AWAY
AT THE LANDMARKS
WHILE THE PACIFIC
RESOUNDS
EXTRAORDINARY SOUNDS
THE BOOM OF
THE SURF
INVADES MY BEDROOM
AT MIDNIGHT,
AFTER WATCHING
MICK AND KEITH
REBEL ONCE MORE
ON STAGE IN LONDON,
WHAT COULD BE
BETTER, THE FIRST
REAL TIME WE HAVE
WITH NO BLUSTERING
SORROW, ONLY
SOME LAUGHS AND
MEMORIES THAT
COME FROM A WALL
OF PORTRAITS
WITH ALL THE OLD
FOLKS SMILING AT US,
WE ARE LUCKY
TO HAVE EACH OTHER,
AND THE WIND
THE SALTY AIR
NO CARES
APPARENT
JUST FOR TODAY,
WE ARE HOME
IN A FAMILY
WAY:
LEFT TO
CARRY ON
A NEW TRADITION,
THE TRANSITION
IS FAR LESS PAINFUL
THAN IMAGINED,
MORE LIKE
JOYFUL LIGHTS
SKIMMING ACROSS
THE WAVES,
WHITEWATER BREAKING
WE ARE ALONE ON
THE BEACH
OUT OF REACH,
JUST WE TWO,
THINKING
OF YOU.

 

©J.W. WINSLOW 1/1/15

 

Shady Grove: Nut Loaf!

We stroll along
In Shady Grove
On Thankgiving Day
I will not give away
The locale,
Best to say
A stone’s throw
Or maybe a leap
Into time,
Further gone
Than where I belong
Where sublime
Becomes the way,
We have wandered
Into a famous fine deli
To pick up a turkey
Ordered and sold
The scent in this
Place is spicy
And bold, big
Hearty guys
Laughing at sighs
From patrons who wait
With intent,
They will scurry it
Home and hurry
To gather the
Folks in a lather,
All rounded at table
No one unable to
Pass on the seconds,
We watch the old houses
With porches and spikes,
And giant grand trees
And kids on their bikes
Ride through huge
Piles of leaves,
All of this scene
Is stranger than fiction
To one who resides
On the hill
Near the water
Beside all the daughters
Who never will cook
but order in well,
Not so much different
The action is swell,
You might get a
NUT LOAF
Instead of a thigh
Be careful that nothing
Is calorie high,
But I’m not at home
And neither are you
We are back
On the streets
Where the roses
Once grew,
And too late for
Citrus, it’s all on
The ground, waiting
For juicing, joys
To abound,
So if you are wondering
Where I have been
And whether you
Might be a part of
The sins
And frolics of joy
The compassionate
Ploy that remains
Of the Pilgrims,
Let us just say
You have eaten
Your fill,
In a country where
Freedom and love
Still occur
And spicy fresh
Apples are a
A juicy allure,
Slide down
The flagpole
And give us
A shout,
That’s what
America is
Really about:
REJOICE/REMAIN/
REPEAT/RETURN
THE FIRES OF ANGUISH
HAVE FINALLY BURNED,
WE HAVE OUR FREEDOM
WE HAVE OUR STYLE
WE HAVE THIS FINE
COUNTRY
MILE AFTER MILE!

©J.W. WINSLOW 12/1/14