she's lickably luscious
delectably plump
laced in skimp and lotions

my senses and notions
in mental commotion
floundering, reckless
in churning emotion

then,
that 'come-hither' look
the hook
the crook

and so I took
a ravenous
bite

god, I hope she's not poisonous

As the Day’s dust slowly settles
the Evening turns her back, on the Sun;
and you’ve yet to sing, the song Night’ll bring,
for the Day’s not really, quite done;

Somewhere, lurking in the shadows
with a watchful eye upon you,
lurks a demon ugly, the Dark Jzourahpaddee;
you’ll be his, before the Night is through !

There are no “tell-tale” clues, with these guys;
and you cannot “wish” them, away;
I’m afraid, my dear friend, to the “bitter end”,
it doesn't matter what you do, or say.

First i feel an aura
That can calm any storm
Heal any pain for the
Rest of time then adorn
A smile i do, as her lips
Move to form the word hello
Her voice sensual, crisp
I was nervous but now mellowed
Still in aw by her glance
That sends me into a heaven
Only known through her dance
Her body's blessing
How she smells, is a mix of fruit
And flower, quite fragrant
Theraputic. Feeling stupid
That a dream is my infatuation

How dare you compare me to him?
The one who ruined everything we had.
The manipulative selfish asshole.

After all I've forgiven
My heart you've stricken
You leave me smitten.

Selflessly I was there
my love I despair
Hatred I declare.

I'm still waiting here
Behind the setting sun
where we once stayed.

Close the door to the world
blind my existence
Leave me distraught and angry.

31.10.10

Uh Oh...Poem

Woman know you are his home
In him, for you only has been placed a compass
A tenderhood lives within his soul
And he lists
Always to you
Of his heart comes the certain sweetness
Even as manhood's brusque gruff barnacles coat
No matter where
Or with whom
He is home
In you

*******

At the bottom of a large glass
Dies, tommorrows virtue

Saintly vision; hears not
Its tethered wings
Are blind

The maverick eye; feels not
Lidded affliction
Casts its thoughts towards sleep

Epistle to a brother,
struck by the thistle with it's thorns,
a horn that blows the doom of paled religion,
dark and gloomy, deep and deadly,
the sound of organs playing
in the blue of the lagoon.

INFANTALIZATION

You were the first
I was the last
a child of circumstance
filling an empty space.
I sought my definition
in your shadow
a cold and dark place
a field left fallow
where no loving seed
could grow.

Your world is colorless
Your silence piercing
Your words unforgiving.
And when you speak
I am as a child
again.

voracity
devours the mornings thin glint
shinning like a pin

as a pain
that mourns the moult
when useless wings
on angels float
shadowless
and pensive post
the tactile visions
guarded float

I need to be kissed no,
none does me give this bliss….
I yearn more for a kiss
than some joker commenting on this
my missing of a kiss …
I hope soon someone will send a pack too…
no, not of cigarettes
but of kisses
as I open the envelope, all kisses will fly
to catch all like a butterfly
I shall try