You traced your name upon my face

faded skin
redden eye
carrying the cavern’s stamp
mimicking the colliery’s faithful

the cairn
citadel of separation
light plays upon each stone
chasing dew
ignorant

as the sombre requiem
rents space between the robins call

envied soil
dark and sweet
now our tangled sheets

time
the once wondrous gift
now a cloistered cell

I trace your name upon my face

Halloween on the Isle of May

Roger the ranger was having a nap.
Fair exhausted he was, such a poor, sleepy chap,
When a rapping and slapping woke him in mid-snore;
He'd been woken up - by an Auk at the door!

Roger knew that no bonfire was lit on May Isle.
Halloween was ignored by the students, no piles
Of wet, slimy driftwood to form blazing heap;
Then was shocked as the puffin coughed out, "Twick or Tweet!"

We are all dead here!
Lives spun out of patterned chaos shredded
Spent in adoration of Mac Blo, Nasdaq, Exxon, Bechtel
Promises of sated lives
Broken percussion played out on now arrhythmic pulses.

A Long line of gangling skeletal bodies
Dressed in uniform gay glissando
That covers our sickly blue translucent, mottled, skim milk, hides.

Furtive over shoulder looks.
Anguished twitches in response to
Sounds of deep limitless mourning.
The final uncontrolled movements of cadavers freshly dead; .

Why do you not see?
That the words I write
Are just my poetry
Shouted from the heart
Each beat caught
Though it’s late at night

Come read and then say
That was it yesterday?
Or even today
Was it started,
On two days?
Did midnight overlay,
The theme?
Was just for you
The words so clean
A poem did I hear

I didn't care
I wrote, yet.
Did you read?
I have reached out
Now do you care?
That I was there
Standing by your side

blossom stays
arrive
bloom awareness
gooseflesh measures

Im a million mile stare
caught
an echo
thrown out
at night

passions heat
ravaged with rain

how we sodden
treasure
limits

like sunlight
cutting arcs
cross thin
pale landscapes

to all ladies and lads
across neo
free kisses from
meeeeee

take them or blow them away,
it’s your lips and cheeks to say ..
I have composed,
many kissy poetry
so many have read
alas not paid a penny

here I donate all my kisses to you…
catch them for free will you
all poets are friends,
even jealous ones….
I have to make amends

I‘m a friend of all those
who love me here
I send bags of kisses
blowing all over the Internet

It feels so disconcerting

this paradigm shift,

that tramples through my thoughts like, shadows gray;

if I start to yield a comfort

because a spin doctor's around,

then my resolve has just begun it's sad, decay.

You may completely know this

shearing of our ledgers,

it happens as with a whisper at the dawn;

yet, everyone still heard

each perpetuated lie,

they can start, & end the shearings' on our lawns.

No sadder fate exists in life

than being drawn, & led astray;

weight of shadows
cracked reflections

hunched, humbled
clenching forlorn wants

oblivion beseeches a cloak
of velvet
to hide within its folds
the truth

illusory venerations
blighted fantasies

of our

sweet minuet

Barefoot into the blush
of dawn's rose petalled suffusion
permeating the essences of night and day,
as orion guides the eye towards the sky,
where slipping gently off,
the garments of the night, that faded
into the oblivion of deep dark space.

Some cotton
shields the eye of
twenty-four
carat gold
while a sylphlike rose
rises from
the sleepy womb
of life.