Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Party Fouls and Other Atrocities

COMING SOON! PURCHASE your copy HERE or at AMAZON.COM, PARTY FOULS & OTHER ATROCITIES by Jeff Callaway, brought to you by MIZTA HO productions in association with Texas Outlaw Poet...
Party Fouls and Other Atrocities

Thursday, September 9, 2010

HELEN by Jeff Callaway (video)

Texas Outlaw Poet, Jeff Callaway, reads his classic, haunting and tragic narrative about love and addiction. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H8TsOQakxv4

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

LAID by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway

as now I lay

my pen to write

these words do fold

to ink the night

in ravishing hues of you

in colors true

lips red

face rouge

in my pockets and blues

I'm happy to see you

with a sword through my side and soul

and a fast train to D-town to die

I will consume these lies

and pretend that you love me

even though you despise me

you try to disguise me

you try to make me not want to be me

you just don't feed me

and in the end

I just want to be me

this poet

this man

this me

if only I could ever be

this man that I dream to be

all dreamed and clean

and on the scene

behind a silk screen

but still more brighter believe

me always effortlessly fallen asleep

awakening to my lazy dreams

and kicking this cling to me

and this perilous timeless sea

or this somehow always pyrite dream

full of all these haggish fiends

and the sting of those busy bees

to fade this flop with ease

and shake these knobby knees

like so many leaves

in the sun

copyright jeff callaway 1996

MOVE by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

move this flesh

this soul at rest

this flesh unwed

this flesh utterly


this flesh twice fed

and put to bed…

this weary worded unwinding of flesh…

this once or twice or thrice at best…

see me now at my best, so take me…

this binding of life and love

this leisure like hour

this school of thought

this principal of adhesion…

let's soak it all in, let's live deep from within…

let's become

let's get some sun

all in good fun

accept me for who I am

catch my drift

catch me falling off a cliff

you are the reason that I exist

the flesh is the key…

the adamant Atlantic

to the west I say in purest form

purest form, nature

the unbounded sea all bounced

unbound these curling waves

with their tongue to the beach

in the kiss of the tide…

old moon rising and falling

all sad song said and done

all to where these words become

this love of flesh and bones and words

this love to you with heart like doves

to you for whom this heart does yearn

this love does seeketh thee…

and finds me and flies and moves me…

moves the waves, moves this unlimited sea

uninhibited moves me, moves these…

fractions of time in rhyme with the time

in eternity…

move this rhyme, rearrange these lines

it's the sign of the times and no I'm not fine

I'm moved…

copyright jeff callaway 1996

LOST MAPLES by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway


of Vanderpool

upon the Sabinal River

with varicolored trees

on rolling hills

which Mother Nature does deliver

in Autumn

a most majestic Texas sight

deep in the heart of

Lost Maples

we three friends

did camp one


just Bryan, Josh and I…


shortly thereafter sunrise

in a beautiful birth of first light

we arrived

a wondrous wedding of friends

to nature's sweet delight

we set out on a five mile hike

out to our most quaint camp sight

upon the shores

of a clear and meandering stream

which the earth did feed

from the womb

of its natural spring

from atop a mighty limestone peak

my brave Bryan did dive

into its cool




tall tall trees

live among the splendor

of the leaves

yellow, brown and green

Uvalde Bigtooth Maples dream

dramatic scenery

the Green Kingfisher sings

the song that late October brings

to echo against those rocky peaks

where Golden-Cheaked Warblers

nest and feed in Spring

to awaken the great Gray Fox that sleeps

the White-Tailed Deer

the bobcats screech

javelina, armadillos, raccoons root free

with all the flora and fauna

who both live together in peace

in nature's sweet sweet


and then

a lonesome

wind did speak

to Bryan, Josh and me

a breeze that blew bitter


up above and beyond

a canopy of trees

and those scenic streams

the sunlight beams

off clearest creeks

beside the deepest variations

of steep and rugged limestone canyons

we finally stood atop a grey plateau grassland

to admire

a limitless landscape of endless

wooded slopes

that sat softly radiant

in evening's pink


and also


evidence does show

that prehistoric peoples

once did roam those

rolling hills that rolled and roll

from a horizon of black gold

to distances unknown

my friend Josh was even told

Apaches and Comanches

in days of old

both brave and bold did pose

a most menacing threat to those

settlers they met

who stole their homes

if truth be told

and truth be known

Josh told me so

by the campfire's warmest glow

by the campfire's wildest light

later that night

we both agreed that it wasn't right

but that Lost Maples was quite a sight

so while in hammock Bryan slept tight

right within the confines

of our quiet

and quaint camp sight

as Josh and I both drank

we came alive

alive we cried

under that wide open starry sky

of Texas night…

just Bryan, Josh and I…

copyright jeff callaway 2005

A FOREST BY Jeff Callaway


our love

it was a forest


in darkness of night

she was a huntress with amethyst eyes

and I

was a mockingbird in flight

drinking mai-tai's

when what we had just felt so right

like silent moments or only breathing noises

shared between her and I

and all the evanescence of those times

in her Big Thicket's wilds

those games

we once played twice in one night

like hide and go seek

or delicious disguise

or we were learning to ride

a bike in her bed

was quite nice

while the tar sky

inked dark and old and bold

and bright was her ceiling

inside her

bedroom of the night

it was like

some psychedelic black light

and besides

the grass was crushed emerald glass

(or carpet)

and the pine trees were alive

alive alive walls

with leaves of hunter green

or lemon

or lime

that time the moon was a golf ball of twine

as "fore" I cried

I swung my nine iron wide

awake in America I

crossed her continental divide

where it was warm inside

and I smiled

like a big dumb child

with orchids for eyes

closed clinched tight

dreaming a world of pleasure

inside her animal eyes

inside her porcelain thighs

her breasts

my powdered milk delight

and like I said

what we had just felt so right

those wet explosions inside

a forest

of the night

copyright jeff callaway 2005

NAOMI by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway

I'd give you my world

if you'd just kiss me right now

like a lover you've known

for so long

how my fingers wander

makes you wonder

how I always seem to see

the image of an ocean in your eyes

and the river that runs through it

a thin disguise to your heart

and so I guess what I'm trying to say


I've loved you from the start…

so kiss me naked

and poised like fine art

and run away with me

and my heart

to San Francisco in Spring

to live with me

and to be so free

in a two story white adobe

with a little white picket fence

and we'll rinse our brand new Hondas

with spot free rinse and glint

and we'll grow like weeds

oh why can't you see

that you need me indeed

and I dream

of you and me in the gold and orange sun

or in the tub scrubbing up

our skin could be so much fun

coming out

so fresh and so clean

so early in Spring

with your flowers so bare

and opening up

and blossoming

and I think you must be

some kind of angel with wings to me

and so with these wings

fly inside of me

and cast aside all of your doubt

to indulge

in the pleasure of

my wet lips…

kiss me again

and tilt your head

a little to the side

this time it's almost one

and I promised you'd see the sun

and also breakfast…


about your lips and


about your hips and


about your thighs


about your eyes and


in your eyes…


that please and pun


that are fun to someone


that have gotten us nowhere

'til now and this


and so

please stop leaving

and like me

or lick me with love

like little doves

from your mouth

or your mouth

your mouth…

I'd wait for a month

just to hear your voice…

I'd die in the dark and rejoice…

I promise

I won't make no noise

if you'll just sleep here

beside me tonight

it's so cold

so we'll just cuddle

for warmth


copyright jeff callaway 2003

TO: JOHN FOGERTY by Jeff Callaway


the crickets chirp

an old Creedence tune

like Bad Moon-

Rising or Born On The Bayou

the water moccasins sing too


poison devil tongues

of Satan's tooth


hiss the song right on through

their mouths agape and cotton fanged

the moonlight serenade

alligators and crocodiles promenade

to Have You Ever Seen The Rain

their ivory wide smiles for miles

seem to say


to the bullfrogs bopping

the slimy toads hopping

this Green River is never stopping

with snapping turtles surfing

on logs meant for the chopping

so just Keep On Chooglin'

up to the big Bad Moon


above John Fogerty's phantasy zoo

where his creatures in Mississippi mud

sing the blues

in the breeze

just cause

I saw it on TV

the footprints of the Boggy Creek


mad in marshy marmalade mud

this Blue Moon Swamp is a musical masterpiece

to flood

the silhouettes of cypress trees

as the dark shadows bud

and bloom

to the lead guitar grooves

and the lead singer's croons soothe too

his music sets the mood

while lily pads float soliloquies to

the rowdy river

that mirrors

the mystical sky in deep blue

to ooby dooby ooby dooby ooby dooby too

like Willie and The Poor boys do

when the marshmallow clouds thunder and boom

and rain down on birds of prey

but the whooping crane plays

like my ding a ling shakes like a big rattlesnake

and he smiles

with a catfish in his slender throat

and a hungry death wish hope

as the great horned owl

watches all suspicious eyed

hoot hoot hooting

copyright jeff callaway 2003

DAY 1 by Jeff Callaway


from day one

it's you

against The Man

all with a grain of salt

and peanuts in your hands

and your courage

and your convictions

and all your fool's mistakes

it seems like you were destined

to fail

ever since you were

a babe

but babe cease not

and forever not

now be

the kind of man

who turns pillars to salt

and parts the wildest seas

but cease not

now be

of the blood of life

live now

to drink

drink deep

but drink bold

and to your own

strong soul be true

bend not

at these futile words

that so forever fold

and bold blow

and sing your own tune

and go here

and go there

go your own way

you have the right

to choose

just don't be painted blue

paint yourself

every color that is you

be undaunted

to your ownself

be true

be cool

be you

just like I do

copyright jeff callaway 1998


by Jeff Callaway

we are all alone here

we do not know this place

we are lost

we are mad children

not knowing

the meaning of words

unlearned to us

but not free form

flowing forms of madness


unfurled and still

unknown to both of us

but real

and still more truer still

than ill

or even a breath

or even just a kind word

to you

none the less

I'm something special

you can take home with you


I'm naked, shaved

I'm all clean

I'm like a new baby

out in the light

my shiny iridescent dream

like belief

for someone who

could not conceive

of belief

or dream to ever be

someone's queen bee

or king of this

brave new world

and with words wield this love sword

like a welder all woven

in green shades

of plenty pockets please

this please this

desirous need

for uncertainty

like steel dim obedience

and blinding light

and how light can play

out this scheme

and what it all means

and what it all means

and how all of this

all of this words

and nothingness

and birds

can only lead to


and flying

or staring at everything

with a pen in your hand

at sunrise

SHE by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway


sat there in the smoky room

where the poets loomed in the gloom

and the coffee brewed

as time seemed to

stand still

I knew that she was real

or that she was like

a wonderful white rose

just waiting to bloom

in Spring

or even right there in front of me

where I noticed how her bones caught

shadows of light

from beneath her skin

that I wanted to be inside

and soon

I longed to touch her

with my long velvet tongue

my hands

calloused and wet

with words

with ink there of

that burned

into the page that was her

with long blonde tresses

and spectacles

all spectacular she

was just like she was

the moon

that I could feel her

pull like I was the ocean

my swoon and my sway

as she sat there silently

scrawling romantic electric words

with her doll like hands

creamy and ceramic

into her black leather notebook

where she kept her poems and things

she seemed just like a cat

with her litters of light

as I took the stage

to read

I watched for her responses

to each

of my bombastic elastic words

that I bombarded

upon her ear lobes

until she became shell shocked

and pulled her kites, her eyes

from the page

to glance up at me

with her eyes

her eyes like lights

that shown up on the stage

where I stood lonely

and longed for her to join me there

but she just smiled

NIGHT OWL by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway

and so now I know

I can always catch that

night owl

back home from downtown

when I'm 2am broken and haggard

from a bender or a foul

and I've always gotten home

safe and sound

from Sixth Street

when its so late and so loud

and in the liquor

I've almost drowned

but I guess I've always been

a night owl

ever since I was five years old

and I set free my caffeinated soul

and awoke every morning to a hot cup a joe

with lots of sugar

lots of cream

in my cream of wheat

TV malt o meal mornings

of before school early mornings

with Mommy

the Three Stooges

with Bugs Bunny

I'm all full of coffee

because even as a kid

I'd spend all night long rocking

and so I needed that extra boost

to get my schoolwork up off me

but it was nothing like it is now

as a girlfriend starts another pot of coffee

and I smoked forty seven cigarettes yesterday

and the coffee pot hoots

like a Benzedrine train whistle

and I'm just another poet

in this Austin, Texas

is a zoo

and I'm Banzai Buckaroo

hoot hoot hoot

through every coffee shop on Guadalup'

plus Ruta Maya's even open til two

and there really is nothing

like coffee after a night of cold brews

and a pack of Marlboros too

as my head it just soothes

in such smooth

buzzing blissful toffee

man what can I say

I mean I really love coffee

so get off me

copyright jeff callaway 2005



we listen

like thieves

to the beginning

to the end

as the body

painting ceremony


with my sensual

sexy special surprise

and all for my favorite baby

on her twenty first birthday night

when we both get undressed

but we both don't hide

where the sun don't shine

you can see us just fine

as she unwrapping and unopening

this present of romantic bliss

and this recklessness

is seething heaven

for just her and I

and our rhythmic blessings

pressed tight with our bare thighs

and our magnetized lovers eyes

to rub a dub in the tub

wet hot

my spa is ka

by candlelight

with the foreplay

and the drip dry

has her new adventures in hi fi

and our hearts all hurly-burly

with our lips all wet with lingual kisses

as she closes her eyes

to make birthday wishes

she is both my masterpiece

and my apprentice

as she answers my body painting advances

her flesh is my canvas

and I've covered the bed in plastic

and my mattress

is graph paper

for the geometry of our love making


slivers of silver

metallic paint to radiate

upon her flanks

her sweet meat flesh

to break the bank

under the mesh

of bleached pubic regions

as I color all four of her seasons

on all fours

when I'm on the floor

her belly is a bowl of apples and oranges

when I daub on a crown of thorns on the arms

of my Chloe dancer paramour

and then I adorn

upon one tiny foot

a forlorn Van Gogh

and on the other a piece of a poem by Poe

that reads quothe the raven nevermore

and my body painting kit is a big hit

yeah it's a righteous score

that I bought in the Fort Worth bookstore

where four leap clovers upon each of her toes were born

to bring good luck to her luxurious form

an electrical symmetry

to our eclectic chemistry

is painted flames to keep her warm

and to keep our love life

oh so bright

like a red candle to burn

all through the night

while the green grass drips high

on the floor

where the yellow rose of Texas

dreams more rainbow scenes

to turn over the paintings

that are not what they seem

but only naked scenery

as my fingers

begin increasing these

finger painting dreams

as I paint on

colored strokes

upon my lovers skin

in tribal patterns



copyright jeff callaway 2003

TO: DALE EARNHARDT JR. by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway

speed kills

but Dale Earnhardt Jr.

does it for thrills

and he does it on all four wheels

with balls of steel

he goes through all five gears

as his tires squeal

into turn two he steers

and the rubber he peels

reads Goodyear

but the car that he drives says

Budweiser is the King of Beers

as he faces 500 laps with

no fear

the power of 800 horses

wrings competitors tears

and adds one more win

to his fabulous career

'cause he's a champion

chasing the cup

to the sound of the crowds cheers

but all 8 pistons firing

is all that he can hear

lap after lap

until the checkered flag appears

or Daytona burns

'cause he's got some points

that he's got to earn

and all the other race car drivers

got a lesson to learn

from Dale

and all of his fans

got different stories to tell

about how number 8

drives like a bat out of hell

in a red Chevrolet

and you can ask

any of the drivers

and I'm sure they'd say

that when the green flag goes up

Dale Earnhardt Jr.'s racing to win

the Nextel Cup

copyright jeff callaway 2005

JUNEBRIDE by Jeff Callaway


she was hotter

than a June bride

on the fourth of July

and I knew I just had to

make her mine

if only for one night

if only for the rest of our lives

she said to me that it'd be alright

if I came with her to her house that night

and so I bought her a beer

and then I booked us a flight

to some place called Astoria

to some place where she could cool off

she said her name was Gloria

and I said that was fine

and we had such a good time

as we drank bottles of wine

and she read my mind

and my new chapbook

as she put on chapstick

as she licked her lips

and then she lit

us both another cigarette

and then she lit an incense stick

she was about to light herself on fire

and I was inspired

I danced on the wire

my face licked the fire

and I lapped up the last of my supper

I introduced her to my mother

she became one of my greatest lovers

and my latest flame

as she spoke my name

and then burst into flames

late one June day

copyright jeff callaway 2004

LONELY GIRL by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

lonely girl

with beautiful lips

her sleepy eyes, dreamy

these incandescent incantations

limiting my ability

to see things clearly

beyond her years

sweeter words

that only her lips have heard

sincere moments of her breathing

sleeping hands

restless at her feet

with angel's wings

and words that burn

the fore thought of forgotten emotions

falling unheard

and so without asking her

if I could kiss her

she said yes

and she showed to me

what heaven really could be

or that it did

really exist

once my lips touched hers

pillow skin lips

that touched me with sugary heaven

and spoke of words

words with language that danced

like a dancer

cotton eyed joe my soul

she spoke to me

in whispers

tiny kisses

my hands on her thigh

as she awoke


bathed in beauty

her lips




copyright jeff callaway 2004

INSOMNIAC by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

I just can't sleep

with you beside me

you leave me hot and bothered

and burning

for love

at night

sweating against you again


your perspiration

my body slides against yours

my hands resting flat

on the backs of your thighs

my hands gliding

my hands

never resting

but counting the sheep

and counting your blinks as you sleep

and you dream beneath me

the beauty that lies

beneath the lids of your eyes

as I pull your hair back

behind your ear

I tenderly kiss your neck

as I listened to the rhythms

of your breathing

and the beat of your heart beating

but still awake

my heart at your feet

as I wait for you to open your eyes

I just can't sleep

with you by my side

and so just take me in

like a wet stranger

take me in

to the moonlight of your

warm and crazy home

and on my body rest your bones

making me breathe like worthless merchants

in the valley of the dolls

walls holding moaning our oneness

in the morning

all of these

new breaths like newness

that's falling like dew onto

the mouth of love

this yearning to learn your oneness

and make it my own

make it something of bones

clay twigs and mold

it's my fort

it's something that cannot be sold

something that is yours alone

that cannot be shown

but only be known

now that you're grown

and you're out there

in the void

all alone

in this darkness

they call heaven

it still can be

so cold

down here in Texas

with all of this


to roam

ROSE GENTIANS by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

the color purple

in mosaic shades


rhetorical explosions

onto a page

grape grenades to grace

with such floral royalty

they animate

like raspberry ironies

my ivory blank

canvas erupts a

plum page

the petals swirling in lavender


like box fan blades


around their lemony centers

the yellow antennas to splinter

rose gentians in Spring

making me remember


in all my lilac daydreams

deliver me

gold is nature's first green

with its livid imagery

these purple passages sing

the pollination of

a bumble bee

copyright jeff callaway 2005


by Jeff Callaway

Barbed wire to keep the cows inside the field

Lounging longhorns in bluebonnets and green

Un-cut grass that the wind in Spring does wield

Even wilder than gunslingers have seen

Blue bullets shot from a gun to the sun

Ornery children of Texas in bloom

New blooms can be like love in Spring is fun

Nestling me drunk inside their soft loom

Electric heaven in blue was this sight

To quiet the cows and accent the day

Like a painter can un dim a vague light

Or poets can find the bright words to say

Very bright Texas flowers love bold words

Even flying poems like mockingbirds

TEXAS HAIKUS 2 by Jeff Callaway

TEXAS HAIKUS 2 by Jeff Callaway

in Texas night

lone star lovers with mad moon

romance bluebonnets

empty beer bottles

shine in hot light round here

in Texas Summer

azure sky opens

to the call of a Yellow Lotus

rain dance

my buxom Texas

lover in blue stockings

bares her soul's lone star

drunk Dallas, Texas

nights in Deep Ellum I love

burgers bars live bands

buy Lone Star beer

support local drunkenness

and Texans spirit

here in Texas town

drunk watching the news

talk of Texas casinos

howdy y'all

burlesque barbecue party tonight

ten kegs and girls

Cholla Cactus blooms pink

lavender clouds sink deep

into the Big Bend

on both sides of the Red

Indian Paintbrush and Bluebonnets

dance hand in hand

Rose Gentians in Spring

make purple love to my green

backyard in Austin, Texas

and it rained today

East Texas mushrooms in cow patties

of Texas growing

please support the Bill

medical marijuana in Texas


thousands of men

in prison for smoking joints

yet sleep next to killers

my Deep Ellum bliss

is when Reverend Horton Heat sings

at Trees rockabilly chicks

music capitol

Austin, Texas guitars wine

and cry a song for Stevie Ray

with all of my heart

remember the Alamo

Goliad and God

the red mountains sacrifice

their stone souls up

to a Cap Rock Canyon sky

Slender Stem Bitterweed

contrasts the cloudy deep grey

Palo Duro Canyon sky

and Texas is my home

my hearts own square acre to roam

my life, love, Texas

LAST BUS ON EARTH by Jeff Callaway


by Jeff Callaway

in this night of dreams

with these beat wings

with these bruised moods

all these leaded woes

filled of fatal foes

fed of fatal land

just a slide of hand

nothing up my sleeve

nothing inside me

nothing can save me

I feel like I'm beat down blue

I don't know what I should do

I gotta get a plan

become a man

I gotta get it while I can

I gotta give it to you

I gotta promise for you

that I'll always love you true

and give it to you deep, wet

I'll give it to you correct

I'll give it to you, my life

I want to make you my wife

I want to make all of these dreams

and I want to touch you it seems

I want to love you

I want to be with you

eternal in heaven true

pre death me saint naked you

shrouded together

cloaked in night in you

together forever

wrapped in each other


I feel like

I've reached the end of the line

the bottom of the stack

the last bus

I feel like I'm searching

accumulating direction

motivating to move

to do, to create

to be somebody in all of this

here and now and whose who

and to find the me

that can be free with you

I'm trying to get a clue

I'm trying to find something to do

I'm trying to be comfortable in blue

I'm trying to find you

my love it is you

I have found my you

it's you

I've found truth

my youth

I'm blue…

the sun is rising

in Shreveport, Louisiana

the birds are chirping

I'm waiting for the last bus on earth

I'm missing the girl I love back home

I'm a lonesome traveler

in a moronic insane Greyhound night

I'm broke and tired

I'm withdrawing

I'm unwinding

I'm down wind

I'm away

but it's a new day

and I must go away

I've got to find myself

gotta find my way

back to you

back to you

but today I'm so blue.

and the blues

is my truth

copyright jeff callaway 1997

HONEYCOMB by Jeff Callaway


drunk again

the swim of words

in the lush

and the thrust of lust

before a rise tidal waves

over us

and the age of Aquarius

is upon us

and it feels as if so

that these words should

be free

and that they should fly

and soar high

up above us

and even though

my head it's spinning

and it feels as if so

that I feel

or even bolder

that I see

the queen bee

hiding in her honeycomb.

and you were there

in the gloaming

beside the honey bee tree

beside the measureless sea

that brings in the slosh of the waves

that lie where two lovers meet

to become true

blood brothers and sisters

through the scabs

of bumble bee


and so it's time that we

put back for a better future

for you and me

and for you and me to see

that time tries to swallow us

before hope can let us see

that life and love

are our common goals

and to someday

live by the sea.

but you've stirred up

a hornet's nest in my heart

and I feel as if

to never be apart

and if so

then not to leave

but to live

or hang me

from the honey bee tree

to die

by the choke of the rope

if not for the sting

of the bees.

because I will not live without you

no matter the cost.

for you suck the blood

from my veins

like a wasp.

in this journal

where I hide

my secret thoughts

and these illustrious dreams of mine

for all of us to share in like glory

that is hidden in a shamrock

for good luck

before the rise of a tide

or the calling in

of the seasons.

or in the pollination of romantic flowers.

or in love

where it falls

faithful and true

and binds two

in eternal kiss


and bliss.

and so I will not hide

behind rocks alone

but words of stone

that stamp on along

this ever groove-ish emotion

and following suit

and folding

to the everydayness

of 9 to 5 life.

copyright jeff callaway 1997

BEAT POEM by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway

I was cold

I was broke

I was blue

I was afraid

to tell you

the truth.

I was beat

I was bled

I was dead

I was lost

in a sadness

of flesh.

I was not in my head

and not in my bed

and not in a state of mind

so blind instead

to only see red

and not to be led but to lead

or to find this too much a deed

and I never saw the sea

nor saw a see saw

nor sawed a block of wood

I got a wood

I come from the woods

I wooded would

if only me you'd fancy

if only you'd give me a chance, see

no, don't ask me

just eat me

my dirty poem

my greasy goosy root

my lump of words

oh word lump

oh shit of my head

you brain shit

my poetic excrement

iambic pentameter crap

in my lap

paper, pen

this here now

the end…

but oh not to be ended

this letter yet unsent

this everything I meant

this all of me

this whole of my intent

this advertisement

oh the sentiment

I'm an existential transient

a microscopic giant

my angelic element

these felonious hands

these larcenous lands

this utter less greed

that we all must feed

to be able to breathe

and keep your feet

up above all of it

independently buoyant

sophisticatedly exotic

my neurotic doll

my holocaustic tootsie roll

my endless gab and flub and flaw

my flipside

my dip back to the real

my kick back and chill

only feel

don't think

just feel…

on the edge of a teardrop

dripping off the mouth

of my fear…

copyright jeff callaway 2000

SURF SONG by Jeff Callaway


I wish I could surf.

I want to ride the crest

of the bluest wave

the sea will be my brother

oh surf would me save

oh see me out

on the endless sea

only the waves

my surfboard

and me.

I come in with the tide.

I wash up on shore.

I stand on the beach

with my surfboard.

the ocean and I

as one My Lord.

I shake my curly blonde locks

in the wind

all wet with

the stuff of the sea


if you didn't look too close

you'd think I had fins.

copyright 1997 jeff callaway

TV BABY by Jeff Callaway


by Jeff Callaway

my mommy is a television

my daddy is a stereo

I get my morals and values

from sitcoms and talk shows

I'm robbing and raping

isn't that what I should do?

I'm killing and stealing

all I want is to be cool

no one loves me

I love no one in return

I get my respect

and my revenge

with my machine gun

I take a drink

and I take a pill

and I kill

and I soak up the blood

with dollar bills

copyright jeff callaway 1998

POET'S LAMENT by Jeff Callaway


by Jeff Callaway

these ghostly pages

have me now enslaved

to rave unraveling pages

to drunken to be laid

but all my debts pain

in full

I'm a bull

in a sort of china cabinet

and I know that it's not good

to be like this

with all of my precious life

now adrift

and bound by unchained bounds

a prisoner unto myself

punished by my loneliness

and fed by these empty fiends

all this bashfulness and scene

bled dry by wet dreams

too close together

to be unseen

this thing

this thing I call me

raped and drowned

to die

drug up on the beach

copyright jeff callaway 2000

BROKEN HEART, TEXAS by Jeff Callaway

BROKEN HEART, TEXAS by Jeff Callaway

you broke my heart
in Austin girl
you tore my heart
right out
i walked right in
and saw you with him
saw your arms wrapped
tight round his back
and with your cinnamon lips
pressed right against his
your bottom rested flat
on his lap...

you kissed him again
until you saw me walk in
neither one of you
knew how to act...

i didn't know what to say
i didn't know what to do
i just wish you could
take it back...

and though we're not through
you know i'll always love you
and i'll always take you back...

but if you do that again
then i might kill my dear friend
the diamond i put on your hand
would forever be cracked
and i'd live my life doomed
in a concrete zoo i can't do
and i'd surely have a
heart attack...

and life would be
spilled beer around here
in Broken Heart, Texas...

and love would be
full of fear around here
in Broken Heart, Texas...


PSYCHIC HEARTS by Jeff Callaway

PSYCHIC HEARTS by Jeff Callaway

all evening
i lie awake
at night
my heart pounding
i'm ever thinking
thoughts abounding
how my heart has
bound me to you...

these thoughts of
you leaving me
are leaving me blue...

i never needed anyone
more than i need you
to be...

these thoughts
of you leaving me
are driving me crazy
i need you to embrace me
don't ever replace me
it's my dream
how you found me
how you saved me
how you grace me
with your presence
these thoughts of you
and your essence
feeds me
so please don't
ever leave me alone
i feel you inside
i feel you
in my bones...

and no one else can see
and no one else can know
what only two hearts can know...

the very first time
ever i saw your face
as if i'd always known...

you are the only one for me
i'm finally at home...


FIFTY-CENT DRAFTS by Jeff Callaway

FIFTY-CENT DRAFTS by Jeff Callaway

when i needed
to smile
whenever i needed
to laugh
i always had you
to take me for
fifty-cent drafts
to Scooter's we'd go
together hand in hand
we'd clown around
and have a few rounds
listen to your favorite band
on the jukebox
vodka on the rocks
it's okay for us
to have some fun
we live right
around the block
so pop a top
and sit right here
on the barstool
nearest to me
you know i'm your man
and you can lay me on down
take me home
and make love to me
but before you do
we can have some cold brews
and enjoy each other's company
at the best place in town
Carmen, lay two more buds down
make it three
and can we
get our tab?


Saturday, May 8, 2010

LOVE & A .45 REVIEW by Jeff Callaway *****

LOVE AND A .45 is a hip electric road trip road movie from hell that takes place on the black top back country roads and highways of the great state of Texas and all the way to Mexico. With brilliant acting as well as casting, this shotgun blast of a movie was released in 1994 by genius Texas director C.M. Talkington, whose amazing writing, characters, plot and style make this film pop with crisp imagery and storytelling. Vibrant cameos by Peter Fonda and Anne Wedgeworth, and simply perfect classic Texas outlaw roles Watty and Starlene, played by Gill Bellows and Renee Zellweger deliver. Every single performance adds the heart of truth to this entirely original classic violent modern Texas gangster film. The comfort in their parts and swagger in which the entire cast carry themselves in the movie is truly famous. Not to mention, an amazing soundtrack that adds a thump to your stomach and a rockabilly jingle of guitar by the likes of the Reverend Horton Heat, who also plays music behind strippers in the movie. Electric chair Huntsville prison stories, cops blasted in the face by psychopathic tweaked out ex cons, robberies gone awry, gruesome bloody scalp tattoos, shots of meth from high powered air needles, soul mate outlaw lovers on the run to freedom and life, burnt up hippies, and bumbling idiot thugs, this movies got it all. The best movie I’ve ever seen. RIP Dinosaur Bob!!!

-Jeff Callaway, Texas Outlaw Poet

THE LANDING STRIP by Jeff Callaway


the times are tough
even the weekends can be rough
and Mondays become monotonous
just look where this 9 to 5 life has gotten us
searching for some smooth space
where we can unwind
maybe drink some wine
in some sassy place
where the girls are fine
and they like to grind
and the grand spot
where i can always get a grip
is in Austin, Texas
at The Landing Strip
it’s a long strange trip
to just sit back and sip
like the nights are so long, they just roll on
they mix my drinks so strong that i’m mixed up
and i’m gone
i fall in love with every girl on every song
when they light up the stage and crank it up
and everyone sings along
here comes my favorite girl Desire
just stick this bill in her thong
and its on
and we’re off
to a dim lit table
in the corner of the room
and i whisper into her ear she’s so damn cute
she puts my head between her breasts
and i can smell her sweet perfume
stiletto heels
and fish-net stockings
she’s like boom boom
for the big tips
she kisses me softly on the lips
and then she dips
but then she bounces right back up
and she jumps
right up into Daddy’s lap
and i’m in love
and all my dollars in her strap says
my velveteen vixen
just might be
an angel from above
or some
elegant elixir of flesh for
this poor outlaw
an effeminate pink blessed
box for my heart’s casting call
crossed with a bit of animal raw
The Landing Strip has the loveliest strippers you ever
and that’s not all
i’d tell you the rest, my friend
it’s last call


by Jeff Callaway

in a lonesome
hotel room in Paris, Texas
in exile from all that i love
apart from all that has left me drunk
staring into a Rusty Wallace Commemorative Can
of Miller Light as begin to realize
how i’ve wasted precious time on sour desserts
like how much a gram of methamphetamine is worth
instead of how much the Dixie Chicks might love
a Texas Poet

and now it’s satori in Paris, Texas and i know it
because two roads have diverged in the woods
but only one can be chosen
and one left behind

after my woman done left me and my dog done died
and in the Texas penitentiary i spent some time
after i lost my house and my car and my mind
and finally i realize that i’ve wasted my time
on a monkey on my back that’s chasing a white line
and now this satori in Paris, Texas is mine
and not Jack Kerouac’s

so i drink down a tall can of Pabst and i swallow hard
and try to forget my book of blues and Big Sur sorrows
and how i almost lost my book of dreams
and my visions of Girard and Cody
to a silver spoon syringe sorority
and now my Maggie Cassidy wont even talk to me

so i need to kick soon or i’ll be kicked
when i find a final fifty-thick fix too thick

before i get to see my sweet baby sister again
or tell her and my Mom and Dad i love them again
or finally find me the house, the wife and two kids
or just get drunk at the club with my closest friends
or write more Texas Outlaw Press chapbooks to print
or i enter my poem in the poetry contest and win
or i get to travel the world and see other continents
satori is i refuse to be another fading trend
satori is to save my poetic life of sin
so that finally my hypodermic battle will end
and my new life can begin

then my triumphant return to Austin, Texas
can be penned…

A SEASON IN JAIL by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

locked up
inside this gloomy
grey cell
where i’m sentenced to abide
i'm banished to dwell
in my mind the green pastures of life
a season in jail
further faster
the prisoner’s parade
is a sea of blood
for the sharks gone insane
or a flock of sea gulls
a stagnant steel cage
with my wings clipped and lips just to pray
for my soul
stuck in concrete counting the days
till parole
or a poet’s pardon from the state-


-but today
i’m plagued by vague voices
louder than love and this blaring TV
and i cant sleep
with these demons sleeping
right beside me these monster
murder meaning menacingly
stealing other people’s property
those vampires who try to beat
the blood of me
and another year of this and i’ll be crazy
but can you blame me?
when i’m just another number without a real
name in this sad sanitarium of sadistic sodomy
and pain, nameless faces just out to make a gain
locked up stuck for stealing the change or smoking
some crank or trying to make the big bank but
its just worth it, time dragging slowly in
the jailhouse pit and pendulum the pedophiles
play and then make parole
after a few months stay…


and gone is yet another day
to the life of the Devil’s blind date
in this house of the damned
sealed my fate


-but only sorrow and hollers

murder is in the mail
and this is my tale
…a season in jail
is a season in hell…

Friday, May 7, 2010

JAILBIRD by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

like a whore in church
in a jailhouse
in the West Texas desert
i’m like Kurt Vonnegut
i’m a jailbird
and you ask me
what kind of bird doesn’t fly
well, the bird who doesn’t try
is my only reply
and so now i press
my pencil lead to the page
and pour forth my outlaw heart’s
lonely rage
from deep
from within side
its rusty bird cage
full of dusty spider webs
of emotions i must convey
and a million things i’d like to say
to your face
as i sit
in this room of
concrete and steel
and ask myself
how the hell i got

is it because i like to drink a few beers?
is it because i walk through those mushroom fields?
is it because i like to smoke a little weed?
or is it because of this life that i lead?
or for some other forgotten dirty deed?

either way
The Man wants to send me
to the pen for two years
He wants to infect me
with His hate and His fear
or maybe
He can rape away
my love for cold beers
or if nothing else
He’ll just steal
my mother’s tears
or maybe
He’ll just shank me in
the neck with
a pen…

The Man wants me to kill or be killed…

because i have a dream like Martin Luther King
because i have a dream like John F. and Robert Kennedy
because i see a light at the end of the tunnel
but now i realize it’s a train…

with 173rd District Court printed on its side
in red, white, and blue letters…

but He’ll never have this bird by the feathers…

because my words are my weapon.

GRIM HOTEL by Jeff Callaway


the grim hotel
a hot spot to stop
on your way to
for the path of excess is
a broken road that leads
to death
or jail
or maybe to both
for one can never tell
but as for me
i’m just another guest in this
i’m just another ghost
rapt in a chemical spell
and this is just my tale
i must tell about how i fell
so far and so hard
i’m just another prisoner of war
in my own country’s drug war
where The Man is The Czar
i’m just another number in A1-dorm
printed on my card
my only offense a sack ice in shards
with white rocks to seduce me
into needles that reduce me
into this too dark park
where i kick start my heart
but i don’t have to lie to kick it
drug to perfect my ART
for some lessons in life for some are so hard
so hard for the bard
when the man holds the cards
and so old and so cold
out there on the rec. yard
Larry McMurtry says the earth is mostly
just a bone yard
but like i told you
i’m mostly lost and lonely
all these tired dour hours dire
the poet make words a maelstrom of fire
from haunted victims in the eye
of addictions stormy desire
spring forth
with yet another lesson learned
as slowly the wheels of justice turn
and as the world turns
if you play with fire you just might get burned
but i must share all these words
and the heart in the words
these words are birds
and they fly above the razor wire
my guardian angel is a mockingbird
justice is a mockery
and this prison is
a grim hotel

GREAT & SECRET SHOW by Jeff Callaway

by Jeff Callaway

i am not here
in this room
in this world
in this skin
i am not in
within sin
i am not lips
i am not the one
whose word is this
not intimate nor friend
nor wolves of flesh
wove we bound in
nor wombs to live
in one mouth of spirit
with no limits
no bounds
no names
no lanes
no rules to follow
no authority to swallow
my love nailed cross, sweet father
bleed deep through the needle
without fuel to feed
my gluttonous need for consumption
consumerism, mail fraud
in the mail room
behind the stacks of mail
all of these endless tales
up spun and spun up
through these starving veins of mine
hungry for the fix
and the prick of a needle…
B.P.’s old man lives in San Fran…
atomic brainstorms, an anatomic demoralization
an end to fit a means to an end
woe but the hand of a friend
the heavenly presence of hope
bound in lies, surrounded in eyes
frankincense and myrrh
balanced on the wings of a word
by a dove, the fly of my endless woe
these oats i have sewn
my Adamic flesh, etched in stone
beat against the bone
only to be left alone
in this room
with these lonely, blank pages
singing, drinking with sage wages
onto these pages, i’m mean
i’m unrepentant
i’m unclean
i’m obscene
i’m a fiend
i’m between
bewitched and behind
and be free
i’m not free
i wont be
i wont breathe
i unbelong
in unbelief
unrest, unrelief
uneverything, un-me
nor no me
no more me
no alimony
oh poor Joe Maloney
been talking too much on the phony
the only, lonely
one who bone me
befriend me
behind me
no more me…

we come for you
all of us to you
all wrapped up in you
i will not bleed me through you
i’m through, all through
wont be impure
nor untrue
nor you

copyright jeff callaway 1997



i can see
two of everything
as these
sonar radio waves sing
in the sky
like perfect of light
come alive on this crazy night
when the heavy sight
of the moon
hangs tight
in its lunar basket of atoms
to bathe in this dark blackness
only to feel the stars showering snow
in the theater of meteors
to touch my skin
to fill in
the wide open spaces of
translucent in the face of my stoned night sky
standing on a beach standing at the sea
and asking myself why
am i
here in Galveston, Texas drunk and high
watching my words
pull these feelings from
the high tide
as i write
my words of sin
my words of vice
lanky lurking liquored words
the sober mans thoughts bottled in
drunken slurred words
with euphoric words to kiss behind your ears
with tickling tingling tenderness to tears
and to take
your heart close to mine
just like fate
and tonight
there are no clues in the booze
and i’ve nothing to lose
just by singing the blues
there’s no clues
in the booze
so i’ll just drink a few more
know what to do’s
when love
isn’t coming from nowhere
and isn’t growing on trees
where does this leave me
but to step inside my drunk sleeping bag
on the whiskey beach
and write my drunken ramblings
alcohol sleep

ODE TO BEER by Jeff Callaway


if the ocean were full of beer
i’d learn to scuba dive
if the ocean were full of beer
i’d be the happiest man alive
if the ocean were full of beer
i’d be Jean Cousteau
if the ocean were full of beer
i’d buy me a home on the coast

if the ocean were full of beer
i’d sail the seven seas
if the ocean were full of beer
i’d drink the sea of Galilee
if the ocean were full of beer
i’d be the Silver Surfer
if the ocean were full of beer
i’d be a drunk motherfucker

if beer grew on trees
i’d donate to Walden Woods
if beer grew on trees
i’d climb the tallest tree that stood
if beer grew on trees
i’d build me a tree house
if beer grew on trees
i’d have leaves all in my mouth

if beer grew on trees
i’d always have a morning wood
if beer grew on trees
i’d plant every seed i could
if beer grew on trees
i’d embrace the great outdoors
if beer grew on trees
i’d have no need for the liquor store

i mean i really love beer

DRINKING SONG by Jeff Callaway


i’ve been drinking to forget you
swallowing all of my pride
taking shots of agony
and chasing them with your lies
bottles of frustration
cans of emptiness
in my beat up old pick up truck
looking to start some shit
searching for the truth
in the bottom of a bottle
and only finding myself
looking for love and friendship
in places where none exist
bottles of frustration
cans of emptiness
in my beat up old pick up truck
pulling over to take a piss
cockroaches on the ceiling
beers in the fridge
every day i make the pilgrimage
across the Caney City Bridge
smokes, tokes and jokes
i’m a bad tomcat
telling my dreams of New Orleans
to an empty bottle of Jack
got no love to live for
sleeping all of the time
drowning all of my sorrows
with bottles of wine
so turn up a bottle
and take its trip
and we’ll lie down
and re-create the things we did
and pray that we never forget



at Cedar Isle
i walked the miracle mile
many topless Texas nights with a smile
on the back patio
with Mrs. Kitty behind the bar
with cheese sticks and Cuervo
and the breeze off the Cedar Creek Lake
making all the girls shake
to the beat that the waves would make
or the bop that the drummer would play
all liquored up and looking to get laid
and then not to remember her name
the next morning
with a scotch and soda
all these bedroom relations
in the dark revelations
in the laps of margarita girls
sitting on barstools, bar tabs, even barflies and beyond
eating burritos and drinking boilermakers
blues bands on the jukebox
how 'bout a toast to Old Ted
here's to Old Ted
and to Mrs. Kitty
and to Goldslager Gary
and all the gangsters in the poolroom
and all the lawyers on the barstools in the front room
and a dozen oysters on the half shell
and all of these drunkards who are going to hell
if they don't change their evil ways
and all the bumps in the bathroom
and bimbos on the bandstand
or the blondes offshore on the boats
or the volleyball bikinis in the sandbox rocks
the wet t-shirt contest gone awry
but it's alright
the best time to buy a beer is
oh hey there girl come over here
come for some conversation and cocktails
and come home with me
or just come over undercover
and buy me another drink
or maybe you'd like something to eat
and then i'll eat you
or maybe Ted's tortilla soup will do
or maybe a nice midnight cruise
to this safe spot that i know
and skinny dip in the moonlight's soft glow
or we can go back inside and watch satellite TV
or we could even go water ski
or we could just sit here and drink
or maybe you could just sing to me
every karaoke night of the week
which is on Wednesday and always makes me weep
but the drinks are always so cheap
and i somehow always know what is up
at Cedar Isle Restaurant and Club

LIQUOR STORE by Jeff Callaway

by jeff callaway

i’m going to the liquor store
i’m going to the liquor store
i’m going to kick off my shoes
and start singing the blues
and find a piece of the night
to set on fire, i’m on fire
i work so hard for so little pay
i party all night to sleep all damn day
and life can be a drag man
life can be a bore
but i know i can always go
down to the liquor store
on those lonely nights
when i want to get drunk and fight
i want to chase the moonshine
into the light
when i feel so lonely
i think i could die
when i’m going across that line
i’m trying to stay between the lines
cause Johnny Law will hit you with the fine
but i want to have a good time
when all is said and done
i can still have a little fun
if i have the money to buy some
down at the liquor store
down at the liquor store

Thursday, May 6, 2010



his handle is Dizzy Dean
and he’s a trucker on meth-amphetamine
and he’s so far gone, he’s gone for four days
with no sleep
he’s like a rolling stone (gathering no moss)
all the way from New York City
(he don’t get lost) with 400 more miles
until he reaches Texas City
he says it’s all about hard work and clean livin’
into the CB
to Uncle Buck and The Big Trucks
who just says copy that
and that’s a big 10-4 good buddy
and dam that lot lizard was pretty
and over and out
and it’s another long black night
in the big-rig
for Old Dizzy Dean
and he’s all juked-up
on that high-speed chicken feed
and he never thought he would ever be
addicted to that meth-amphetamine
or mesmerized by the yellow stripe
like his front window is a TV screen
or some psychobilly plasma screen
as his radio it just beams
that song American Pie by Don McLean
but asleep at the wheel
it’s not how Dizzy Dean needs to be
because he’s got his three kids mouths to feed
and the wife of his dreams
is at home, asleep in Caney City
her name is Norma Gene
and she’s real pretty
so he just picked up the habit
and he never let Norma Gene know
that he’s tweakin', haulin' loads of livestock
for Roadmaster’s Transport Co.



scotch and some soda
and some sex and some soma
so i’m so stoned
in San Antonio
it sounds like Sublime’s
Scarlet Begonia’s
circle circus surround sound systems
in stereo ozones
by my side my Miss Scarlet look-alike
who’s my guide
she doesn’t remember where we’re going
and somehow i can still remember the Alamo
(and Goliad)
but as the pills begin to kick-in
its then
when i know that it’s too late
and so i pull over to the shoulder
and i park my Chevrolet
and i reach out for the pill bottle
as everything turns grey
in my head i can hear the Reverend Horton Heat
sing It’s a Dark Day
i can’t make out what the warning on the label is
trying to say when some fuzzy itchy something
comes over me in waves of OK and Oh Boy! do i
feel great
not half but whole baked
on the Texas Highway (please don’t litter) its best
to stay awake
if only i could find a Motel 6 or Super 8
or some soft silent sanctuary
to pass out straight
and so i pull into the Hotel San Antonio
and rent a room to retreat
and we have dinner and shit, shower, shave
and we’re both so beat
but still, my beautiful Miss Scarlet, rubs my feet
and she serves me a hot toddy in her old favorite-T
and an old slip with a good kiss on the cheek and then
make love (that’s hot) she’s so sexy and sweet for me
to eat and
i fall asleep
in the arms of the girl of my dreams
in sheets
wrapped up in blankets, so warm and cozy
until morning brings
in hung-over sunlight beams
and i can finally see so clearly
the words on the label, i can finally detect:


GIN & TONIC SONNET by Jeff Callaway


kick back and relax in fact it’s your time
to buy a gin and tonic with a lime
and while you’re up you could refill my cup
and please bartender turn that jukebox up
‘cause today has been a really rough day
and here’s to Dean and Sammy by the way
and to that blonde at the end of the bar
what a dream come true blue far away star
whose boot scoot blues would move closer to me
in sweet release drunk in spurs let us be
she can see drunks are not all such bad guys
not all nice suits and new ties are best buys

but gin and tonic man says to your face
how bout sex, drugs, rock-in-roll and my place

CUDDLE PUDDLE by Jeff Callaway


upon a dream
when my special girl and me
made sweet love on three
tabs of ecstasy
in our special bed where we
press our bodies close together
applying pressure
to pleasures unmeasured
i found a buried treasure
between her thighs
and sin inside her soul that made her sing
her skins pink pink masterpiece
tasted just like an ice cream cone to me
and the night was naked electricity
so we fed off each others energy
to create some stellar cosmic swing
that rolls or radiates and beams
between the sheets
psychotropic sex beats
that made me think i could see
an angel in utero appear on the scene
all aglow and all a gleaming
and busting through the ceiling
like some ultraviolet being
who’s sexually appealing
and undressing completely
the three of us rolling and reeling
and drinking and eating from each other really
over climaxing glow-stick bodies
as the sky was raining locust
and there was an ocean in our bedroom
one hundred candles dreaming
patchouli nightmares of orgasms
we swam in for centuries
to the town where love was built
and also where the hamburger was invented
but we couldn’t eat it
so we continued to bond
as one
bold light bright
rolling inward roll
naked in the kitchen
you were grilling some chicken
and trimming my split ends
when lightning struck twice and frightened us
back to life
in the bedroom
where we let loose
lust on the love boat cruise
the walls were breathing when i planted my root
and chipped my tooth on my foot
in weightless amusement i smoothed
my hand down your thigh
needles and pins in our eyes
and down your spine
with ice
and we both came twice
but it was nice next to the thunder
black tree
silhouettes through the window was under
the aliens
laying between you and me
sprawled in sheets
with a rave on the ceiling
phat beats through the TV
DJ Dream and The Liquid Osmosis
seemed steamy
when i was your



mean green
motorbike rides supreme
down the street
when i’m on speed
i go to this place to meet
and breed
with these sweet
big breasted broads
doing me
harem dance dreams
hallucinations in the whorehouse
sleek rememberings
of a smooth John Coltrane song
before i catch a plane
to Hong Kong or to Tangiers
because i heard they had cold beer
when Old Bull Lee was queer
when the green grape groped
the seasonal artichoke choke
cheers to the cat clit crew
or the teenage wong fu
or golden blast budding May
and live fast die young HEY!
(i wrote that part in the john!)
but in the mean time
caress this beam shine
lick my ripe hind
powdercake spank bedtime
sign my slick hips, mine
bearded treasures
hunt, find
cunt rhymes
tequila shot in the head
bloody red
burst of night
where we all must fight for our rights
(to party) in the age of Aquarius
a quartz aquarium quasar
quittles and qualms his quill
with glorious gushing ink to fulfill
with bold strokes
the needs of rebel yell hellions
please breed crunk drunk crazieroms
in hillbilly heaven



and then
there was this
one time
on this particular night
when i was tripping out
about flipping out
in a fright
when i was freight
on this Greyhound bus
coming home
from Tennessee
by so many amazing
strange things
like psycho funhouse beauty queens
with destinations unknown like dreams
who were eating cherry sours and Boston baked beans
wearing thick glasses
and reading teen magazines
but it was like i was in a bad dream
except for their hot little asses
and i was on acid
bouncing up and down spastic
it was really beginning to kick in
and then
while they were listening to Edie Brickell
my mind it sort of fell
to some hell
i was kind of tweaking
i was really peaking
on four hits of Grateful Dead
and i smoked so much pot at the last bus stop
the sirens in my head were hallucinating cops
it was the psychedelic bus trip from Memphis, Tennessee
when Elvis reached down from heaven and saved me
and then he
got me home with the click of his heels
and he asked me
if i had any booze, grass or pills
and so i rolled a fat spliff
and he took two big hits
then we dropped two more hits
to continue our trip
it was the psychedelic bus trip from Memphis, Tennessee
when Elvis reached down from heaven and saved me
and then he
put a ten-strip
between his tongue and his lip
he had a jug of Real Sangria
and he gave me a sip
he had on blue suede shoes
and he kept shaking his hips
covered in jewels
a curl in his lip
he passed
me the joint
he said
hey son its yo hit
it was the psychedelic bus trip from Memphis, Tennessee
when Elvis reached down from heaven and saved me
and then he
left the building

LSD POEM by Jeff Callaway


much glue
to stick to
so much to do
i cant sit still
i’ve got to move to move
so i fly through the sky
and i fly so high
that i fry in the sky
with my pupils the size of dimes
and so
will you tell me which way- to go
to the yellow brick road
goodbye to some shady place
under the trees of my soul
where we can roll a joint
or load a bowl
whichever makes us whole
below the walls that
are breathing
in sequence with me
as i realize i am one with everything
and so i leave my body
for other worlds to see
as consciousness wakes to Morpheus dreams
will you take my hand
will you go with me
into this new reality
where Maenad wraps us
in velvet violet halo wings
while we’re submerged spirits
in our ecstasy orgy ritual dreams
like the flesh it screams to please you
and Midas’ touch goldens the scene for you
to give everything this jazzy hue
so just go with the flow
you know what to do
cherub flight
to orgasm
over skeleton flames
to exalt the way i felt you
when you came
and you tingled
and your lips are to taste
and you’re safe
in my arms
when you

you open your eyes with the sunrise…

you wonder if it was all fantasized…

you open your eyes with the sunrise…

and i’m laying right by your side…

STONER CHICK by Jeff Callaway


braids her hair
and she wears
juju beads
and she drives a green
Volkswagen bug and she
smokes so much weed
when she’s drinking jungle-juice
and she’s snorting up speed
as she spreads her creamy sweet legs
around my fire of pink desire
she’s packing a fresh bowl
because she wants to get higher
with her psychedelic eyes
she’s like my ultra-violet lover
and everything inside of me
is burning for her
to soak up the tears
should she ever cry
and my love for this girl
because she’s my hip kitty-cat
and she digs the beat
and she’s free
and i’m her cool Daddy-O
with my cosmic dreams of ecstasy
and it seems
that it’s been a long strange trip
that she’s been livin’ with me in peace
and it’s a long lasting feeling
since we’re both so free
but this stoner chick rocks me
ya see
the dog-gone girl is mine
and we’re lovers
and we’re smoking joints
under the covers
like her juicy lips smother
hips pressed tight undercover
fingertips against silk
head long into our highest kiss
cause we’re star crossed lovers
souls dancing in bliss
and i will always
love my
stoner chick

BLOODY MARY by Jeff Callaway


another bloody Mary
with Sexy Sadie tonight
would be alright
in this almost midnight
lemonade light
and so how many times
will she love me just right
in how many different ways
will i lay this sweet babe to bite
and lick her fine sugar cane tonight
when the sky is clear
before early dawning morning is here
i will meet her there
with beer in hand
and a mushroom kiss
so her and i can be together again
and we will breathe in
tomorrow’s hours with a smile
with stories
that only her lips could say
in only the words
her lips would speak
and when she tells me
from those lovely
she articulates
her beauty
and in this beauty
she sits with me
and drinks