MORNING WAYS

When shadows gray
and blue melancholy
cross my brow
as morning strikes
and I awake
I wonder how
many ways
I can break
this evil spell

Lined up neatly
All in a row
I've seen X's before
Criss-crossed when they
Run out of room
But not you

Even in this
The worst of all things
You are precise

And you are beautiful
And what you do is disgusting

Pull your sleeves up
I want to see what you did
When I couldn’t be there

Could I even stop you or
This thing that seems to take over
You start and you can’t think ahead

Billy Budd was dropping knowledge bombs
on those he saw as crude
Bobby Nova was showing Geezer
his favorite Redtube nudes

Knowledge dropping is alright
Making fun is kinda mean
Killer thought about saying that
when Billy called Gee; Guy Bean

Now Killer don’t take kindly
joking about his friend the Gee
Told Billy Budd; now stop it
or you’ll answer to me

Billy Budd, he couldn’t stop
He just had to go on cracking
Killer grabbed him up
and gave him a shellacking

It's nights like this
The ones where there is nothing
No lights
No sounds
No one about
That i feel you the most

Your gaze is on my skin
It begs for my attention
The air is disturbed by
your sweet breath
Making me dizzier with
every lung full I take

Your presence traps me
My body is no longer mine
to command
My mind can scream til
my heart stops
But it's no use to fight

There is a globe above my head
As I lie naked in my bed
It reflects all that it sees
Me, the garden the Linden trees
It is shiny metal
Like a kettle
But most expensive
And quite reflective
I hate seeing me in all poses
Most of all my body exposé...d
In unusual deshabille
To some it would give a thrill
The naked parts unsuspectingly bent
Being followed by image wherever I went
Sometimes I stick my tongue out at it
And it replies in identikit
It lends a air of class to my room

The tips of my fingers are the
forging expansions of a
lover’s oily grip on
stubborn tense
shoulders.

Comforting your frame with every
slip and glide grasp they can.
Hints of desired massage
wrapped in self-assuring
tactical brush rituals
of soft touch.

Your floured skin reminds
sardonic stained bones
of textured ether pelts.
Stretched thirsty
upon defeated
armies of dry
confidence.

when does a woman give in
when she wants him in..

then she has no inhibitions
of what others think …
she has made her mind
so she thinks
as love flows and only she knows
from within

she has made her choice

now none can stop
love for her becomes a lovely stop
she lets him enter
but never regrets
till she has reason to repent
then tis too late
she can’t relent

our hearts were once joined,

now apart the degrees

of separation are burning,

my wounds are weeping 

there is no other day

judgment came yesterday

Autumn leaves began their journey

as my night was laid to rest

the walls started falling down

scattering the Rose of Sharon 

a bed of flowers to die in

a place to lay my weary head

I can no longer go walkabout

black smoke is streaming

a signal, all is not well

Filling me up until my hands shake on the ends of these thin arms.
Wrap themselves around the body they belong to
in a slow coil like thievery
and untold stories full with sin.

The bones, they bend
so hand over shoulder
ghost white skin
lay on top and weave under;
these bones with a place for my forehead to rest,
these lips mutter prayers as they lean into nest.

I got up
out of bed
got dressed
fed the cats
and myself

turned on the tv
news and weather
looked outside
it was sunny
but cool on the windows

sat, smoked, thought
half a day gone

pointless but true
not all inspirationy
or exciting
but true nonetheless

my life this morning
in a piece for
your boredom relief tonight

a dull poem
for sure
but it took some of your time
away from
nothingness
creeping all over you