Mr. Butle was an older guy.
He'd hardly ever smile,
head always bowed and stature slumped,
most of his words were full of bile,

Yet everyone thought well of him,
he had that valued "Midas touch"
so most overlooked his grumpy ways,
his grumbles, frowns and such.

His wife always dressed to the hilt.
For an older lady she looked good
yet her smile seemed somehow cold
as she walked about the neighborhood.

I'm not sure how to begin
I haven't been into my feelings
For quite some time but then
I meet you crazy sexy appealing
In every way and by no means
Do I intend to let you slip away
You're like a dream that I deem
True. Serene, my brightest day,
My queen, my sweet escape
From the numbness, from the pain
The forced hate, the being afraid
To feel again. Truthfully, I'm amazed
At first, I wasn't sure how to begin
Nervous, this still being somewhat new

Dr Chaz I am near you

From the legends of Kali

I heard the churning of the Ocean
There the milk frothed and changed state
A poison I have brewed for my enemies
Madhva can relate this story true to you

It with me, are now locked in legend
Or so it is told to all men to deceive
Halahala will be mine to give too many
Even Vaya tried to make it weak

His winds could not reduce Halahala
A gift of the milky Oceans fury
Shiva he turned blue with just a sip
In a gold pot, held in the arms of Vaya.

When Sun bids adieu
the greens wave in gratitude
for keeping their grins

At night they enact their role
wiping some carbon footprints

Moon glides merrily
a ballet on starlit stage
the crickets applaud

Floral tributes greet at dawn
in rose buds speckled with gems

Somewhere in the trees,
a hooting owl greets the night
restless bats take flight

Spying on the moon,
a young crow is mesmerized
by her great beauty

Where fireflies gather,
tiny merry lights linger,
teasing the shadows

While the crickets sing
celebrating the dark hour
with their own rhythm

The night comes alive
with the sound of hunting beasts
fighting or survival....

Well, let me hold you!
We have many things to hold
what all you want to hold
just let me know
when you yourself are held,
no one will let you go
without breaking a weld
so hold on
I shall await
a message from you
till then I shall hold on
my prettiest one on to you!

Emerald City

Thin dogs snarl ferociously
fighting for a bone
in an empty parking lot
where shapeless people moan
about inclement weather
and the rising cost of wine
all the while insisting
that their attitudes are fine

on yon cerulean sisters
this heart discovers a pumice in apiary
ring wings of inkling curtains
fleece cloud like fanlight
bird rainbows covert
of sky-light reeds
mauve descendants splay
velvet illumined concussions

lace of the swift attic brew
like dew temperamental befall
charlatans bruised in hope
pore fire hush mildewed
to sapphire cobbled wires
on stone shone gales flit
pearly heatwaves - this Dorset gift

neverbland
the bulbs broken
sift with a magic blackness
swing in the humid puffs

the leather jackets
creak
leaning
the salt air
mixed
these changed up winds

barbarous
ferrous tides
and stained handles
the doors like a canal
gate gushing

kisses out of boredom
frustration
in crushed holds
like diver codice
log books
silted history
in submersion

exagerations
in candles lit
footsteps on heavens gate floor

My God we were mad!
To have looked at life in such an abstract way
And it was worth it still
So we ran into the night,
We danced our crazy dance,
And howled at the moon,
To let it know that down here are a bunch of mad young minds,
A bunch of reckless philosophers running wildly on the concrete,
Under the street lamps.
And eventually we stumbled into our own little reality,
We found solace in that place.
Where everything was holy and just,
And there was no need to run around wildly anymore,