I have opened my heart wide,
like a blanket being opened above a bed.
The constant kick in synch
with the music of your words,
So soft spilling like honey in the air.
A whisper...
A floating feather,
A single cotton petal sifting sorrow
with powder and bread.

Inner beauty...
Inner beauty...
Forgive me and forget it.

There is room filled with dead bodies,
poetic pieces-parts, strewn about
like
insect wars, black and red ants.
I never know which side wins,
do you?

O the wonders of the spring
all the song birds perched to sing
a wasp just stung me on the ass
I've got to cut the freakin' grass

With flowers blooming everywhere
I've more than enough love to share
pollen swells my nose and eyes
new fire ant mounds which I despise

Ladies' fashions become spare
belly buttons and midriffs bare
along with men's knobby knees
plumbers' butts shine in the breeze

just in space..
you are the master of yourself
learning…
I the master still yearning....

after the age of seventy
one is on the footsteps of senility
and someone at seventeen on the heights of juvenility
but all is relative…

pardon me some poetry is extinct,
yet it doesn't stink

a few current ones smell foul
some bad mouth
many spoil
yet the rife mind soils
the visions of those who appreciate
and don't think random

ABOUT MAD DOGS

I am like a dog
grown mad
with hunger
sinking teeth into
carrion
holding on
not letting go

I am like a dog
In fear’s madness
crucified
to my soul
holding on
not letting go
not left behind

Banging on the gong
Gets her heart to thumping
Before it is too long
Her body starts to jumping

He bangs away all night
She doesn’t mind a bit
Jill thinks that it’s alright
She hopes he doesn’t quit

Jack is really great
He keeps on like a bunny
His timing is first rate
He don’t do nothing funny

He just keeps on the beat
Never falters once
She's potatoes, he’s the meat
Jack’s no bumbling dunce

Slam your heavy pains, woes
for nothing merits pain
A pristine twilight shows
a promisin' day to gain.

Clean the smell of hatred
with love we better grow
time should never be wasted
profit in the morrow.

Now, hurry! come on dear
and put your hand in mine
when good intentions clear
our ways with gold will shine.

As happiness lingers
think not of the poor past
Don't moan, cross the fingers
sorrows can never last.

why can't I have them - what I want?
You say to ask and I'll receive
requesting perky breasts to flaunt
I get ones hanging past my knees

why can't I have them when I ask?
You say all comes to those who wait
but I have boobs all long and gaunt
I'm not impressed, I'll tell You straight

I shouldn't place such store in them
they're really just appendages
but it's Your fault, 'cause You made men
with one-track minds throughout the ages

vista clean
the wiper blade
scream

dry between tears
its measured
heartbeat drop

like a needle on a habit
like a dirty shoe
on night long lost
trysts

falling

crystal sleet
clings to everything
dipped in glass

cinderalla bitch
sleeping

kiss kiss

I didn't sleep again today
but that is my usual way
I might write giddily and sway
it doesn't mean I've gone away

So I'll get up and walk around
for no purpose I can see
my general premise isn't sound
but I'll be the best that I can be

so wash and eat
is a good start
and a resounding fart
represents a stunning feat


this poem wasn't meant to mean
that godliness is always clean
so I'll will my mentor now ignore
and go back to bed and snore