there is somewhere
that you belong

that as a wee little one
you began to wield with
power the mystery of words

that each thought recorded
reminder of events & circumstance
not just happenstance
progressing through life
indelibly etched in heart.

lift up your soulful gaze
with eyes sparked ablaze
travel back through time

Displeasure

I walk within trees
in a city of lust,
people carry music
on their backs.
Tired eyes keep
leading me, there will
be time, relax.
What now dances
before me, pleasure,
had until then
always shown me
a highest disregard.

What is love you ask of me?
well let me think and let me see
when such answer by you is sought
it requires study and thought

I've been in love a long, long time
so long it is almost a crime
with my ever child like bride
my love for her I can not hide

Some poets say love is a curse
and others that it's even worse
I've heard it described as a light
illuminating, shining bright

A beautiful woman
stands nude in the moonlight,
a candle flickers,
a breeze whispers through the bedroom.
Standing in the corner sweat glistens
from her perfectly formed torso.
Tears streak her face
blood drips from a knife to cold stone floor.
A puddle gathers at her feet,
staining what little innocence remains.
She stands, listening,
as if to hear
her dead lover’s breath.
and quietly murmurs, why?

Have you ever met a man like John Thomas
Such a strange little geezer ?
When you treat him coldly he shrinks away,
He’s so flaccid and yielding.

Have you ever met a man like John Thomas
Such a sweet fella ?
Treat him with care and he is,
Perpendicular, he stands proud.

Have you ever met a man like John Thomas
He’d do anything for a joke?
When he has his beer goggles on,
he’d give anything a poke.

`

i will not be scorched
by the flame of another
i shall keep my fire
fueled only by the pure
kindling found deep
within the terrain
of my wooded home

the sun shall bring
enough light by day
and a torch, well-lit
shall provide steady
footsteps to tread
the dark by night

[as I search for what
I cannot find or name]

no light save by the moon
on occasion when
occasion finds
would reflect the sun bright
from yonder hemisphere
and translate another's flame

A distant cloud embraces its own shadow
While the wind blows desperately across the meadow
Leaves rustle on tree limbs
And birds sing as they scatter to their homes

A single tear drop in a sea of sadness
We are one creature, love and its madness
Thunder rolls on through the hills
And rivers flood as they push past the guilt

A lost memory resurfaces in your dreams
We were once lovers, caught up in the urgency
Regrets swell on envy and pride
And the trees sway and produce symphonies all around

Pigeon Pied People

Pigeon loft people
never near the edge.
Afraid they’ll drop to ground,
living a very ordinary life of drab.
Quietly, careful with their sound.

What is this life to lead,
that they can’t lift a head to cheer.
Closeted in a never land of temerity,
with talk only forthcoming,
when swallowed on
supermarket beer.

All that’s owned is debt’s to banks,
run by barons with sticky fingers.
Their castles have creaky balconies,
where only life so cheap
or death lingers.

swim in the depth
this shadow
grade

the spin curve
rise
and hip svelte
comfort

counting snowflake
drip like stars
make a wish make
a wish
and seal this
with a kiss

we pull petals
from black dreams
"You love me not"
"You love me more"

breathing and tracing
scars
like burning ember
paths grey and rich
white like frozen
ridges

the nimble of the
fingertips

Down here it's seldom snow, but rain
that causes me to chance refrain
from walking down a well worn trail
through beloved wood and boggy swale

And upon reaching a clear cut wood
where two years ago the poplars stood
it's mostly thickets, briers, and brambles
trying to ban my sylvan rambles

While beneath a shady canopy
it's an old stump hole that I don't see
that engulfs my leg up to the calf
and makes me stumble on the path