arabesques of light
spouted through perforations
quiver quietly

arrive
surround
your words
your voice
comforting

Wasteland

torrid streams of tears

changing

into vaporous steam

falling on the desert

of his heart

her begging and pleading

disregarded

as even now

with no oasis in sight

she is discarded

and breaking

on the never ending

sand dunes

of his indifferent

consideration

hers is a slow

death by starvation

in the icy-hot

shadow-less lands

of the loveless

arid desert of his soul

variation 2:

the sun turned leaves to gold
but you were sleeping
and the world is growing cold
the muse is weeping

there are no words to rhyme
when your muse will not climb
out of bed and into your head
to write your poem sublime.

version 1

did you see the sun turn leaves to gold 6:00 a.m.
or are you still sleeping your best sleep, my friend?

I couldn't sleep much last night, this time of the year the days
are already half-passed all I kept thinking about were poems that weigh

omg!

i wonder what the people of California
do?
how do Floridians live with
both cougars
and alligators?
how do Indians put up
with all those tigers and cobras?
and the bears in Alaska, Oh, my!
but leave it to my state
next thing will probably be
to put up a reward
and shoot it on sight,
take pictures of the carnage
and say "No telling how many lives
will have been saved.",

Bass pounds through my chest
a drug free buzz,
I become more like myself
with every depression of the keys,
crazy darkness.

The rhythm radiates assaulting my senses
waves of sound crashing,
lyrics on the attack , vocal warriors
a transfusion of overwhelming power,
releasing me.

Crave that hormone rush,
long for the blood coursing through the veins.
pumping in the ears,
volume way up,
vibrating the rafters.

If the destination is not reached - let the journey be engaging.

LMD

I am permanent
in my impermanence
changeless
in my change
immortal
in my mortality
intransient
in my transience

What do I cling to
to steady
my rocking boat
where is my anchor

Is there anything
in me
that can watch the change
imbibe it
experience it
embrace it
and remain unchanged
by it

How deeply
will I have to plumb
the treacherous canyons
my consciousness
to find it

There reside many that live
In cold, dark, and dampness
Beneath the earth
Thus the eerie crawlers of the land

There’s a final domicile
Of countless departed
Asleep in amity
Thus the precious ones pending life

Hell is not to fear
A shared grave of folks
Where all are laid
Before the resurrection

Ah! A hot day on the beach
and all the sights that we might see.
With a cold drink within easy reach
( a soda, beer, or sweet iced tea)

Man, aren't those some kind of breasts!
Not the ones in halter top
but the saggy ones on hairy chest.
When he runs, see how they flop.

And that area 'neath the belly button
which all teenagers dream about
his hangs there like a leg of mutton
or lower lip of a full pout.

I was born
as an angel
as a free soul
then who cuffed my wings
and raped my soul?

Every relation betrayed
every relation sold
a part of me
a part of my soul
was I so difficult to hold?

Soul of mine
tries its best
to ease my pain
but silly forgets
the blazing heart

I ask me
I ask myself
is existence such a curse
or being such a pain
poor! With What words could it define?