Ah, how quickly do
Nights age & shatter - like old glass.
How short lived, the stars

Roses fall, silent;
In moonlight, like pouring rain.
On the leaves, dew hangs

If comparison were forced,
No flower would match your beauty.
Every rose would pale
Trying to meet the measure
Of that which I see,
Of how much you mean to me

There is no greater pleasure,
Than pressure,
When our two bodies meet

Singing your praise

In my ocean, you are the tides
The only thing to stir to life
Rivers of crimson within,
Areas grey & white
Were I the fish, you could eat
Forgo a day, for an eternity
You could cast from my soul,
Wade my streams

Better men have fallen before,
By word alone. Take these
Phrases in utter that matter not
To action, what man can judge
He who does, when he does nothing?
Mark the words of youth still young.
Tell me, when I have aged,
Have my thoughts & views really changed?
Have I any measurable way, what would the depth gauge read?
On the core of my character - my values & beliefs?
Field the breadth of life, would there be anything left in me deep?
Will there only be cold hard surface,
With nothing underneath?

I like hair enough to whip it,
To have the wind pull it
And muss about my face.
It's reminiscent of living,
Makes me feel grounded.
Enough hair on my chin
That I can stroke it when I think,
Weather it with whiskey
And plenty of smoke.
I'd like to say it's for joy,
But lately it's for the nerves.

It's humbling to look
Up at the stars, the
Gorgeous night sky.
Humbling to think,
Someone revoling one of those stars
Is staring back at me.

Things searched for
Are not connected to our internet,
Closed circuits.
The people who engage, are quiet.
And the circus is far, and close.
Hell, it's in the sky,
In submersible boats.
In dry heat,
In bitter cold.
It's above ground & below.
It's old pen & paper,
Passing notes.