My head pounded as if it would break
Pressure in the arteries increased
Were the eyes red, I saw not myself
A move brought piecing shattering pain
Migraine fed on tissues in the brain
Goblins rode across on their chariots
Celebrating putrefying gangs

Down the sympathetic mental strain
Vigor dimed around solar plexus
Tummy stirred up with effluvium gas
Nauseating salty saliva in the mouth
Forced open by gagging the cavity
Not a day of feverish cold wind
When body heat blazed to melting point

I remember your hands
and their journeys,
firm and sure
they planed my hips,
and smoothed thighs
to abandonment

you touched my eyes
asleep,
as if you could see
the visions of want
in my dream,
rimming my lips of the taste
lingering from my last meal,
(sometimes you)

your hands haunt me
like ghosts of themselves
where once, you would need
to feel the pressure of us

now,
you pick me up like fine china
and press my hands to your lips
as if sipping tea

Okay I bought it
the winning lotto ticket
I can dream can't I

...
You are that Rose!
that many don't deserve
and when you leave their garden
to them abandon
then alone they will know
the loss of their loving Rose

you are gifted and wonderful,
too many other gardeners
would love to water you...

hope the message is taken
and well understood
many a planter then has cursed oneself
for not having praised and timely too
ere they strayed to plough
to greener pastures
they thought…..

Today not Today…

They walk in rags of highest order,
these people known to some as serfs.
Heads bowed, tempered not fiercely,
ignoring most of life’s adulations.

Can help be attained or given,
to a sullen language of postures.
As they walk quietly past wrongs,
never asking for hero worship.

Courage is staying alive today,
casualties strewn on streets hourly.
Facing a situation’s reality rarely,
keeps sanity in elapsed consciousness.

occult clouds stream
touched the vaults insidious hue
the candle tuft
twisted and black

Masters of vision
laid upon the tracks and dreamt
the shire horse run down
the hounds alive
amongst the birds of black

Awake in nights curled ache
the parking lot vacant stare
a shroud of fear creeping

Beneath the tender tallow night
the restless sleep talks restless
flight
awake the hours crawling haste
the hot elleptic brilliant taste

Dark winter clouds now rule the sky,
and in my heart there is a terrible sigh,
for the snow has fallen upon this earth
and my heart has lost its entire worth.

Now I wait for the fresh air of another spring,
where rolling fields of bluebonnets will reign.
With those many blooming flowers of blue
that will bring a rendezvous of just us two.

The darling houses with their gardens of delight
are all done up as if they’re going out tonight.
Birds whistle, like the traffic, hardly noticed.
I goof along, singing songs, my eyes unfocused.

Children run, mothers fuss, its ten to nine.
Real cuckoo chimes the hour; kids form a line.
Cars angle parked beneath the trees are silver dark.
Grills grin, they’re sleekly shaped, cold as a shark.

From the sun I'd borrow its warmth
from the clouds some softness
from the stars the pride
and would borrow from the rain gentleness
to wrap my frigid heart.

From the sky I'd borrow its glory
from the day some light
from the night the quietness
and would borrow from the moon its sight
to veil my weary face

I'd borrow from the trees generosity
from the sea some passion
from the rocks some strength
and would borrow from the soil compassion.
to fill up that greedy heart.

Middling Finale

utter failing
aspirations grand
anticipation
stripped away
one dream
in succession
as the abyss
of mediocrity
yawns bleak

oblivion
glowers back
fixedly
watchful
one misstep
condemn
and decree
the final
shame
and end
of
me