do not read this poem
if you're a shrinking violet
do not read this poem
if your cock is hard and
you're looking for a hole to fill,
tough shit

Hey, don't you know it, it's a cold and foggy night?
Cold zombie bodies don't appear, in my low-light sight
Can't see for shit, I'm afraid, and it's oh so quiet
Yeah, you think it's funny... it really is a riot

I wish that it was you out here, I'd like to see you try
I'll bet that you would piss your pants, right before you die
We lost poor Jim Mc Gee about half an hour ago
They just showed up in thousands, all shuffling in a row

A tiny dust devil forms
on the windward side of shorn hay field
in the high heat of mid day
during second week of July

Only betrayed by bits of chaff
barely belt high when born
( and how is that by the way?)
as it randomly staggers
among the heat waver
further
....further
........further
..........into the hot field

BLADE OF GRASS
Never will you see a blade of grass with a sadness of life
But the cold winds that blow against him are the same as you or I
He flows and bends with the greats of ease
For there are no cares in his dance as the wind pushes the tallest tree
And if the coldness of wind can move the tallest of trees
What do you think that single blade of grass has learn to see
That the cold wind will blow against you
No matter how big you are or how small of a life you seem to view

EACH CORNER IS A TURN OF A TURN

Life cannot be equated, without this fact
A straight line, is sill straight
As the direction of straight will constantly
Adjust.

Look both ways before you cross the street

See it has its bends
Feel it has its curves
The joinery of life
Has corners, adjusting the
Turns within turns

The early morning bird sang
To the hearing of everybody
Wake up, ‘I passed standard six
I have just been to the queen’

Take no heed, some would say
Though eloquent, he lies a lot
Far and wide, he has flown
But can’t write on the sand

There is time for everything
Seven years are not forever
Clauses come and go, in turn
Like the two sides of a coin

Do that which had to be done
Get up and use your time wisely
Boasting, it may seem to some
But it is a wake up call for duty

there is nothing
between the sky and earth,
see how they form one circle?

there are signs everywhere:
the water drop and the waterwheel
turning
on a landscape of the Maiden Moon
turning
dervish in the sun,
unrequited
the silk cocoon inside a spider's web,
the apple falling from the blossom
and the nest adorned with little speckled
brown eggs, hidden from sight, but watched
over

To have or to hold,
to unfold or to be -
live or to die in waiting
or risk the thrill of ecstacy.

sitting in this waiting room
waiting for the fall -
Life has it's own schedule
death knows its time to call

Brush past reception
bolt from the door
rush back into the world -
take uncertainty-as giving more

Mutually exclusive
yet singularly alone
my love for you
acknowledged, recognised
made known

it exhausts me to follow you-

dark puddle on concrete
the stain of what you are

once a day
a light gently widens
with only a sky for company
gaze of sun diligently lingering

in the evening
our bodies

skin like paper
winter and bloom

our disappearance sudden with the night

witness me now
without you

flat and lifeless

dressed in holly glimmer
you move
when you shimmer

now this random moon calls
my howl love
I fill this need
and sweet wind lavishs
the poplar singer leaves