(truer words never spoken nor written)
take my word and decline
and absolutely refuse to take masterly crafted bait
videre licet Facebook female
seeking to lure, catch
and unwittingly cannibalize
thee unfortunate soul
courtesy dangling eye catching
teasing offer vis a vis friend request.

I glanced
just today
at that bus stop,
the one that took me
to LaTrobe University
in 1975.

I remember
Zaida
who drove me
to the bus stop
on my first day
of university.
He gave me
five dollars
and told me
that one day
over a cup of coffee
I could change my life.

He wanted
to be with me
on that special day.
I still recall it
very fondly.

I call the wind a nuisance
It burbles and gurgles all night
Till I take antacid to let it out,
Then I feel alright.

though two thousand nine hundred
will be here in seventy five years,
a mere blink of the eye
never to early
to think about fêted occasion
which marks the beginning
of the 22nd century.

I'm the tear drop
the shape
that holds you in
and keeps you
firm.

I come
in different shapes
and colours,
and in different styles.

The tear drop shape
gives me confidence
when I wear
my clothes.

Not the real tear drop.
I don't need that
at all.
But the shape
above my waist
that makes me feel
like a woman.

Rain hoods, bathing in lancers
of elf gold summer, splashes
her rich hot body, combing the
Wonderland green shaped

leaves in a picturesque striking
Fantasy of glowing visionary and
Geometrical symmetry with beautiful

Contours that flare showing off her
Balanced Folds and dreamy drapes

Spider chills after designing its
Residence with silk threads cords,
Fibers in a labyrinth maze of complex
puzzles.

when the doctors all studied his ass
they concluded "it's just full of gas"
"but a vein to his brain
lets the flatulence drain
it's insane, but it works, let it pass"

The Old Testament in Poetic lines

They prop me here, grotesque delight,
for fools who drink each fetid night.
They raise their mugs to toast my grin,
of shrivelled shade on withered sin.

The wenches dance, their hems askew,
to peddle flesh, the old and new.
The coins exchanged, a tarnished fate,
as ale spills thick from pewter plate.

And here I sit, a lifeless jest,
a bone-white ghost in rotting vest.
The landlord claims I bring him trade,
a spectre fixed yet on parade.

I do not play with dice
don't put faith in numbers
as eventuality subtracts the
dire consequences of blunders

Majestic wonderment fades
with the calming of the waves
lapping shores hold silent as
my quiet moon drifts

Beyond my passing time predicts
the agony of our failing grip
this human condition
its onward rendition

At a loss for explanation's
the dire consequences of
destinations dwelling within
the spike of a deep well
where re-vibrations linger