ribbon riding
polish shinning
wavering this summer heat
in undulations hot as
a cutting torch

the cloth rippling on us
held fast by bright buttons
we gleamed lasting
smiles as pole by pole
we past and ate up the
miles

leaning on elbows bruised
from hasty landings
the landscape wide
and wild swayed by
and the large open sky
gave each a thirst for
the soul

A Vagueness blue…opaque

Who else could have written that song you liked
last Tuesday as we sat in the café dim?
I thought as much was true of you
and turned my hand to scribe a penned
prize, indistinctive but solid and gracious.

So now we understand the fuss and fighting
in a lifetime of stares from our peopling learning
steps we climb over or through for recognition,
given over like a horse drawn mill to some to
others an Olympic gold medal for making
one hundred and ten meter of trash.

From out amongst the shadows
she emerged quite wearily,
as humble, and as sweet a person
that you'd rarely chance to see;

her charm worn as an overcoat
tailor made to be the perfect size,
when I asked if she would care to stay
relief spilled into both her eyes.

When she talked to me she had a way
of easing my troubled soul,
other times, spent feeling awkward
even though, 'twas not her goal.

I wrote once of leaves,
And their death as they do fall,
To plummet from such tumbling heights,
On nothing but the winds’ wistful call;

I wrote how they would glide,
From branch, to breeze, to ground,
And I dreamt of such vicious things,
That await their rustling sound;

I saw how they would wait,
With a sickly sort of glee,
Readying their tools to bite and drag,
When they knew it could not flee;

My sweet tongued viper of truth
double edged is your sword
laying waste to those who lie
to manipulate loves rewards

True blue of your eyes
searing those who dare cheat
calling their intention love
scorching their betrayal with heat

The fire of your passion
they covet
only finding themselves burnt
to cinder and ashes

The sweet odor of your loveliness
is the alluring scent they believe
is your lady like weakness
but it's their hearts that are cleaved

A young woman who loved me spoke Welsh to me;
perhaps she was lying in her own language, but her kisses felt like truth.
She held me as though I was the brightest pebble from the river,
hard in her hand, close to her breast; she did not let me go,
I fell by my own mass, by my own gravity, not back into the river
but onto the dry, yellow ground where all I owned was
the little half-pit I made in the dust, and that wasn't really mine.
No more Welsh, no river-ripple, just deep-dull, lost, closing,
heartbeatless, truthless, sleep.

Here I go again
Chasing shadows
Things that come to me in my dreams
Real and unreal
At the same time

In my sight
But out of my reach
Shadows I can pass my hand through
But never touch
I can see
But never hold

Shadows of everything
I want to be
Lying forever
Just in front of me

My shadows forever
Trapped in my dreams

he said black was soothing
an intensity of nothing
he believed in it
and i suppose darkness
if wanted
can make peace
with distressed souls
until they claim a higher distinction
and call it Christianity

i don't think he believes
but he said
something must exist
for him to survive

strange how people do that
believe in a god they can't see
not a heart they can feel beat

Stainless Love

I have no doubt
That you were sleeping
As those words rolled out
Neither the sun had set,
Nor were you dreaming.

Perhaps twas early morn by then,
Rise my friend
Above,
The soiled sheets of pain,
Love is the only beauty, in life
That does never at all stain

rumble
the night brevity
cast eyes along the porch
of delicious ache
you hurt
we bend
and slender the dusk
pools in our handfilled
lust

chill dreams
savage in the pain
the eager breath
and the minute hand
sweeps on delicate
scented wrists

satchel portions you weep
me through the grave hours
when stars fulfill
our eyes
and we taste the bitter sweet
of our poison

feeding on ravaged
shelter