John is an interesting author with many tales to tell.

He was originally from Texas. After an exciting life, he moved to Peru.

The circumstances of his writing the first poem are fascinating. He writes,

 "Ode" was written by light of a cigarette, in federal prison after "lights out".  I would fall off to sleep and the next stanza would lift me like a cloud back to consciousness. I had to write it down, then off to sleep again only to have another stanza lift me back awake.  Interesting night.  Hard to write by cigarette light.

                 Ode to a Berkeley Street Freak

                      I’d heard of Don Quixote

                    Of how this famous warrior

                      Was mighty and so bold

                   So I located the local library

                    And opened the dusty book

                    Thumbed through the pages

                       And took myself a look

               Well, Ol’ Don Quixote amazed me

                  He stood with sword in hand

                  And with fits of imagination

                   He proudly took his stand

         There were towers of toil and struggle

                Damsels in distress did abound

               There were green-eyed demons

                        And fiery dragons

                   And bloody battle grounds

           Returning the book to its dusty shelf

                 I realized I’d learned a lot

                     Like way back then

                   There must have been

                  Some mighty groovy pot


                  ADAM’S LAMENT

Come, let us seek this truth called love

Let us walk along the freeways

And sit quietly

Neath the roaring jets and towering buildings

Our minds playing childlike

Among the concrete and steel railings

Spinning squealing rubber squealing

Swiftly through smog-clogged avenues

Of dead trees and neon desire

Come, let us sit quietly and try to remember

The taste

Of the apple