Cover me
like the scene descending
outside our windows
with a fresh start
with the cold beauty
of pure intent

Blanket me
with sparkling softness
Create me
the world, anew

Give me eyes
like this child's
wide with wonder
seeing
for the first time
this snow

.
watching ice cubes melt.
like our love
in a tumbler
...no, not love
but affection.
no, I mean
...you know!
where does it go?

once solid
now
melded
into background
fulfilling obligation,
function, duty

after time,
what's left?
tastess dilution?
tepid staleness?

thankfully,
the buzz
we love in big giant gulps,
remains

Untried dreams we now regret
( we'll do it later, just not yet )
Perhaps a message t'was not taken
led to another's poor heart breakin'

Had ink never flowed out of this pen
this poem would neither start nor end
maybe we'd sleep well at night
had we not begun to write

Untaken roads, choices not made
debts forgiven and repaid
a decision made or one we shirk
a word that does or doesn't work

people are odd
some give -- some take

perhaps more takers
than givers

a
debatable question?

givers are banks
always open

currency -- love
and care

those who make
withdrawals -- coming and going

don't often
make deposits

leave behind
in their wakes

destitution of
emptiness unwanted

ran out of currency
gave it all away

bank closed.

trapped here in the middle creation
that separates heaven and the underworld,
I was struck by blazing arrows coming down
a sign of self-destruction made by the anger of The Almighty..

the days from my flesh banished innocent hearts to arrogance,
all the time as when God saved the Devil;
crawling for forgiveness for something not to be forgiven,
before stepping out from something real but forbidden..

He's a Jealous creature,
tearing his heart out
it gnaws at his innards

Tormented, stalked by insecurity.
and bonds he can't escape,
a garrote for his neck.

The ugly side of love
rears its poisonous head

He lashes out verbal intensity
Words slashing
like razor blades.
Lacerating her affection

Suffocation won't keep her close
The tighter he squeezes,
The more likely escape.

Punch drunk
and dazed by emotion,
he needs to lay this burden down,

`

Who can tell the difference
between gallantry and deceit;
that is clear only to
the querying breeze?

Who could not smell
the pungent heavy cloud
before the pulling of
the petulant wind?

Further, afar off, no one inquires
about foreseen mornings unseen
dreams once winged zephyrs
echo in forgotten hallways.

Perched high on rock faces grim
beneath the humming of the bird,
awash on porous promontories -
failure now permeates the abject soul.

On the frozen verge of land and water
my footsteps ring upon the empty sands
Where the wind touches my face with laughter

Warmth of home beckons with promise of shelter
yet pleasure is held in these open hands
on the frozen verge of land and water

For cold gives old father sun no quarter
and empties all the throngs from summer lands
where the wind touches my face with laughter

No thick crowds now crush and make feet falter
no more park rangers smug their dumb demands
On the frozen verge of land and water

Sometimes it starts this way
you're sitting, thinking
mental gears churning
about nothing
and not one idea
about anything
seems to come to mind

So, you just start hammering
on the keyboard
and, still nothing much
a deletion, then another
but you are writing
which is half the battle anyway

And you realize
that even your
best efforts
are lacking ...... alot
and it's all more or less
worthless ..... to most

if I'm American...
i might fill my hunger with breads and cakes. not with rice.
and probably encountered temptations of sex-permissive girls
scattered on Vegas lights.

if I'm Mexican...
it would more likely for me to turn to as a boxer.
one of those guys grasping for the healthiest grilled potato,
to beat Pacman the "Mexi-cutioner"...