Step by step,

I walk heedfully

across the patchy lawn

muddy here

barren there

unkept, unattended.

Pleading blades of grass

with drops of hope reflecting

morning’s sunlight

become my teachers

as they reach out

to grow.

Fresh spring spouts

extol me

to find a place

where barefoot soles

gather joy

with each flex of toe

into the ground.

I have ridden on a hell bent comet
Its fire plumes burning the bridges
I left behind,

The asteroids, which followed behind
Had the names of Gods bringing the karma
Of things not so kind

A star of redemption came out of the sky
Shining bright with a truth, my icy cold eyes
Could not recognize

A path laid with lies
Would not be easily rectified
With truth and light

Star of the icy cold
Can you burn away all I know
which was forged upon the burning coals

I love your face

When you smile
I feel life in my bones

When you gaze into the night
I wonder about the universe

How big it is
How small we are

When a tear runs down your cheek
My heart aches a deep ache

When I touch your satin skin with my finger tips
All of my worries melt away

I love your face

Meat

He expects her not to feel, 
believes that she is simply humanoid.
Shock fills his eyes, 
When reality emerges from his dilusion.

She is the sum of childhood vulnerabilities
an amalgamation of experiences.
Has the ability to love unconditionally,
even has a brain.

He is able to separate heart from his groin 
In the pursuit of an erection.
Disengage intellect and feeling,
To receive satisfaction.

There still grows a tree upon a bluff
above the river which it guards
and watches over course's plain
which floods whenever torrents reign.

And it grows far off the beaten path,
this ancient beech I chanced upon,
with nearly white smooth bleached bark
never touched by saw or wild fire's spark.

By its size I know that it was here
many years before I came to be
its bark by initials compromised
by lovers' pocket knives I surmised.

a garden of saffron
irrigated parched land
flowers picked at dawn
before midday sun wither.

fresh spice exotic delight
purple petals cups its
essence till harvest picks
plucks its stigmas trice.

inhale its wealthy odour
pure indulgence
powered deep red
natures seasoned aroma.

shipped abroad
since wooden gallows
eastern promise
saffron spice.

a craving
like a hungry day
emerging bright
and brittle

gleaming
this want
running thick
and deep

Ive been buried
beneath
the crash

and youve walked
me in debris trail
desire

kisses so I cant
look back
scent of sweet
warm breath
so I cant see
the sky
pain scattered
and falling

im dying
as each
layer
is revealed

as my ghost becomes
richer
as you reach me
as you seek me

I always thought I'd go out west
during the early weeks of fall
and roam Rocky Mountains in a quest
for antelope, mule deer, elk and all.

But I must wait 'till school is done
my priorities were clear and set.
There's no hunting under summer's sun.
My time to go was not here yet.

And still I dreamed of aspen's gold
but there was work that must be done
building a business, truth be told
along with marriage and first son.

CHANCE MEETING

He is my universe full of stars
as distant and as far,
he is the moon,
and when I smile
I see him glow for me,
this man I know
these three long years.

A man of integrity,
full of fears
of death,
and when I held my breath
to caress him,
sudden moonlit joys
reflecting life,
a special meaning,
no longer dreaming.

the mountains around me are tired
of sitting still
and i am sick of writing poems on this coffee table,
an empty mug on flat wood
a bonsai hating yellow and that sunrise
wilting
like all the leaves in today's rain
like the pianoforte through these four walls,
some kind fingers
playing temporary pauses
for the sound sleeping outside shaded windows—
its mouth full of love songs and nostalgia