Sex for free
In the grave yard besides
The ones we know,
There’ll be many
Who would want to know
What did we do?
When one was alive
But now there's no shyness,
Nothing left to hide,
Any one with any one,
Can have a joy ride

I’ve known many,
Who have tried?
And
From their graves
Where I left a cell,
They still message
Come have me,
Will Ye

Seren thought I should stream this.........................

Again the cordite fills the air
stinging eyes
bringing shocked cries
causing flashbacks
of fortune's roll call
...Lincoln
...Kennedy
...King
...Wallace
...Sadat
...Reagan
...Lennon

Echos of gunfire
filling a generation
with the feeling of
might have beens

It's not very often
when you or me
love to get in a tangle
but there sure is one
a lover's delight
who wish it'd be often

In a maddening rush
driven by a crush
to get as close as can be
they wriggle and wiggle
in frolic and fun, and
get into a jigsaw squeeze

The tangle of their limbs
as tight as the weeds
keeps them from a fall
while they rock and roll
on a Queen sized bed
from one side to the far

shrouded this sensitive awakening
falling
like a memory

new approachs glide
like a fresh shirt
empty pocket of meaning

im not left the dream yet

Any day, but...not too far into winter
where the cool sun, sits high in the sky;
the briskness of autumn can deliver,
a hearty magic, that can cause some to cry.

And, long about dusk there's a calmness,
that accompanies the powers that be...
so, the night air can hit with a suddenness,
and "twilight" allows beings to roam, free.

To be sure, one can check in the meadow
where the tall grass is coerced by the breeze,
and, the fireflies are all glowing, yellow;
until the faeries are adjourned to the trees.

Looks like tomorrow I'll come
With not more but my life
To show, unlike before when love
Can never be seen gazing
Along horizons of the oceans.

I'll sail across a thousand-mile
Latitude and prove me not wrong,
Setting my sights on tomorrow
Where I can see your distinct smile
Guiding me across the pitfalls of dreams.

TWO DAY HIGH

Met only yesterday, unsettled the train:
Two-Day-High, hope we’re meeting again…
Dylan and Cohen and Bobby McGee,
Two-Day-High, you sure were like me.

That Tomorrow

That tomorrow
has once again come
But as a today
And
As I did once so say
Every tomorrow will come
Only as a today
Try hard as you wish,
Sweetone,
Tomorrow can never come
As your dish
You may in time's domain
For ever fish
That’s your wish

`

when the clack of keyboards cease
and pages of unbound books
scattered by the indolent breeze
produce a melancholy dirge

think of all the unwritten words
that remain stillborn in the mind
much like the gilded pheasant
out of the snare and into the fire

`

"BOLD DEATH"
Margaret Ann Waddicor 22nd January 2011.
Joe and Dennis Go made me think about death too.

Bold death,
you stride through consciousness,
to take our spirits with you,
to a place where peacefulness
and silence reigns supreme;

we dream of you as desperate
and sad,
as heavy handed, brash,
as silky as a ghost at dawn,
when moisture leaves the land
and grasses stand up tall
all decked with dazzling dew;