Night Train

The mythical vessel,
The dream,
Percolates from serene
To obscene,
Flinging the mind’s Window open
As a way of coping.
The RUSH of Fresh air
Sparks a breathe of reality
The dreamer
back down
To embark the next ride.

One Lick

Flames on the chicken wings,
Grease on the guitar strings,
Marinated steel,
Squealin’ like a pig.
Old Rig,
No pick-ups,
Raw Acoustic,
One Lick.


Kurtis Lunz

Couch Potato

I could fall asleep,
Or I could just watch T.V.
Which one will it be?

-Kurtis Lunz


Growing vegetal,
Then, Blooming with color
Like a flowering plant,
We absorb
And reflect the sun’s rays
In the most glorious ways.

Kurtis Lunz


Aroma Therapy

The sweet scent
Of Waffle Crisp cereal
Fills the air.
It only helps to balance
The bitter irksome
As my minds wheels
Turn some
In their constant
wondering and wandering.
Aroma therapy
Serving as bass line
on this beat.

Stay Believing

Building strong
From the base
Up to the face,
From the pedestal
To the mental,
The Grand vestibule,
The entrance,
Where the mind unwinds
And grinds into its
Sediments and Sentiments;
But, it all begins
In its place.
When my feet need rest
from the daily race,
I look to God
As the place
To hang my Faith,
For the evening,
And even
When my feet are
Still Running strong.
Stay Believing.


-Kurtis Lunz

Thanksgiving Time

So real,
Are the ways we feel
About the things
For which
We are thankful.
If the tryptophan
Doesn’t wear you out,
Try counting
The ways
You are Grateful.

-Kurtis Lunz

A Blue ReArrangement

Spiced Apples
And Blue Spruce Candles
Light the mantle
While Alice Coltrane
Brings the Harp Strings Handles
“Turiya And Ramakrishna”,
Massaging, rearranging,
And Freeing
The Tensions
From the body’s sinew,
The deep muscle tissue;
All the while,
My mind sings
The John Lee Hooker lyrics
“Blues a healer, All over the world.”

Kurtis Lunz

Take A Moment

Wheels spinning and churning,
Smoke beginning;
‘Turns to burning.
It’s the Yearning,
Always the next second,
The thought dominoes
Are falling too fast
For their cause.
Growing further away
As we think about it all;
They circle their path,
Come across a missing tile,
And grant Pause.


-Kurtis Lunz