Thank you,
when what you gave was not enough
it was enough
that you gave.

It has been fun,
and laughter
and pain.

So long,
farewell
until we meet again.

far beneath the belly of the beast
the jungle crawls
silver and polished with the hot sun
the whine of the turbine
and the wear on the carbine

heavy and incoming
Pall Malls
and deaths
pall riding shotgun

and the gleaming fire of
the sun burning its hot
visions through the green
visor

The being that is you, inside

is finally just getting, here;

the one you need
to blame is greed

not, this scapegoat in the mirror.

This shadow of your more, pensive self

allows the both of you, to have a beer;

but, too much malt
will have you both, blame, fault

on an innocent, scapegoat in the mirror.

Neither one of you, will ever learn

for reasons still, unclear;

as far as I can see
you took the wrong, journey;

when you chose, to blame that scapegoat, in the mirror.

A naked tree bends in the breeze
A lonely leaf falls to the ground
It shudders in the winter wind
The December roar is the only sound

The bitter cold is unrelenting
A cloudy sky looms overhead
The dirt is frozen, hard and stiff
What was once alive has now been dead

The darkness settles like a knife
It tears the day apart
The streets are empty this time of night
The fields are barren like my heart

I tried to write within the now
in wee hours of a winter night
it seems I always failed somehow
hunched over pad beneath floor light

Each time a line entered my head
and worked its way through pen to page
"now" had already skipped ahead
"now" had become a long passed age

So I tried to write much faster
fingers moving in a rush
results were just short of disaster
jumbled wordsbecamemeremush

by day,
your body a silhouette
dancing along the walls.
it reminds you of existence
but it is only to be
vanquished into the darkness
threatened by the starlight.

The moon flat and mouldering
Is both
Hidden and unveiled

Its sulfurous gleem
A gem upon twilights ringfinger

Casts its ceaseless grasp
On the shining beach
above the cowering tide

Time languors
At the foot of cobwebs
Between the glowing grass

I came to touch my world,
the things I used to feel,
but no intimacy's found,
nothing today feels real.

Not the aroma of mom's cookies,
nor the freshness of the dew
came this morning to me.
Nothing this day smells true.

My eye, once caught the colors
of the rainbow painting the sea,
see none today to wash
my flowers, the grass and the tree.

I'd hear the whisper of the land
the happy chirps of the bird.
I heard the unspoken words,
but all those sounds today fade.

accept the pragmatism of time today ...
guys only love ...
since times immemorial to play ...
today you are trying to pin them down ...
for a while may be or you shall win....

but a time will come again ...
when men will ride all over again and again...
as living- in becomes the norm ....
women want orgasm..
which grand-moms having foregone...

THE SHIELD

The moon was but a clouded gleam,
Its fitful light both cold and dreary,
We heard a hunting sasquatch scream
But could not run, so drained and weary.

Our group, the last of man's resistance,
Were no more than a hundred strong.
The Dark One challenged our existence,
His Orcs and wolves came chasing on.

Each bloody battle fought for homeland
Left fields of dead at such a cost
Kings and Nobles slain, we nomads
Running northwards, broken, lost.