Grateful is one
Who loves the worth of another one.

So as we all on the Internet move,
Some new ones arrive,
Few go,
Others who miss the fun
Do often return
Hopefully,
till the sunrises each morn
And
The horizon isn't forlorn,
The skies remain blue,
As much as the sea
I’m quite sure Neopoet
Will many elite poets see.
Those who finally bring us all
To lime light
And
Hope we all add
A wee bit of our mite

The perception is all yours,
like it not, the mirror of recognition
is a poisonous drink, drink to your fill
and fill in your own blanks with discontent,
bewildering
the sky with its savage heat, the ultimate desperation
is a communicable disease,
if one
should think about one's thinking;
consider the atomic structure of an
internal sun
the sun neither hides nor carries
shadows but for what stands in its way,
the moon makes no overtures of disclosure
to things that come what may,

Elegance, you were a descendant of evil, I swear
I never felt skin to the likes of yours
You were a drug, an addiction. I am in withdrawal

Manic, you were a child of a rainstorm, I swear
You were uncovered in a tomb of gold
I never held my heart from you. You are a caged bird

Infatuation, you were the sun on a winters day, I swear
I never felt radiance in another like you
You were a fire, burning glory. I am smoldering

Bull shit, verbal leakage,     
 you cruise in 2nd gear
When you should be in 3rd,
You don't engage your brain

Your a waste of space
All you can do is fornicate
And procreate that any ape can do

The fact of your existence offends 
Makes me want to stamp you out,
Scream and holler 

bull sit verbal leakage
I want expunge you 
I need lobotomise my memory of you
Obliterate the stain

THIS STILLNESS

There is a stillness deep
a silence that soothes
and terrifies
no words can be spoken
the noise of living
fades into distant places
and I wait quietly pretending

the world doesn't speak to me
the same way it did before
my words are sharp and clear
yet somehow fade and disappear
heard by none

my art if art it be
hides my soul in metaphor
and the stories I tell
are me in hell

The autumn winds will soon bring frost
foretelling colder air to come
so before the last of warmth is lost
we'll pick the last sweet summer plum

Let's walk the woods and pull on vines
shaking loose from the high canopy
purple juicy muscadines
from which we'll make some wine, maybe

Now, while worn leaves still are green
with poplars, only, showing gold
while doves and humming birds still preen
and buck antlers are growing bold

I see everyone
On the express
To what they believe
Is the formula to success

Does anyone know
The color of their God
Because all I see
In their eye's is green

God is a mathematical
Equation
Answered in dollar signs
To what is considered
A life of bliss today

I am not
A domesticated creature
My thoughts of bliss
Seems to be that less
Is all I need

When the wind from the north
off Lake Erie
wraps around your breath
and a hard rain has ushered in
three days of sinus headaches,

Once again, the starting blocks
make me wish I would've stretched;
causing me to be more limber
and, the race not so far-fetched.

It's quiet at the beginning
the sounds of silence rush my ears,
and, I know from other examples
how to disregard my fears.

It's so lonely when you listen
to the blood run through your veins,
causing a dizziness so blinding
only pain, and regret remains.

awake dawn
fuscia chill
stars cling like ice
to melt the bitter blue
so deep and cold

tangy dreams drip
from bird bone limbs
satin souls
wavering
the sleep breath
resltless roam
the lovers kiss

salted like the fin
Mermaids caress
wave worn stone
our amulets
of tears like frozen
teeth about our
throats

and the howl of waves
in black cavern ribbon
at our station