My cucumber grows
for a lovely hoe,
fellow cumbers, trained,
put in rows,
cooling pinch
of old man habanero.
Cuz she is hotter than he,
in this summer heat,
so widespread her angle--
raising beans a'dangle,
as zucchini and I do wrangle,
for he has a large leaf,
but I have a long vine,
tho his girth could cover me,
I could climb higher inside,
to get to my lovely hoe,
and she does not like grubs,
unearthed during their rubs,
for she told me so,

Oh my lovely hoe,
Hoe me up, and bat me hard,
send my cucumber seeds
sailing over the neighbors yard.

Go ahead, leave me behind
watch as my heart breaks
and my soul loses it's light
as you destroy me
and my mind

poison my heart with lies
feed my brain empty promises
and remember my face
as you watch me die inside
with tears filling my eyes
and a smile covering up the pain

leave me behind, but remember
I'll always cherish your love
as it was raw and tender
even though you left me broke
feels like someone put my heart in a blender
and left me with a glass of pain
which tasted bitter

You look worse
since we broke up.
Especially from the
waist up.

You face is hollow,
and the bags
under your eyes,
dark.

You look scruffy,
dead inside,
and that pleases me,
I don't know why.

Good luck,
sadness is such
a sorrowful
little thing.

Look at my lips,
eyelashes,
hands,
and hips.

And slowly,
remember,
sorrowfully,
our last kiss.

-qtsp- 5/23

Since you left
I spend most
of my time
sitting in my car,
listening to those
sad radio songs
that make your
heart go numb.

I only go inside
when I go to shower
and even then
I leave my car radio
on and loud so I can
hear the songs
through the window
and can cry along
with the other
broken souls.

-qtsp- 6/14

Through a garden bedecked in the finest façade
In a natural beauty of eons compiled
An assault to the senses which quickens the pulse
Yet soothing the detail, organically styled

Its borders haphazard yet clearly defined
By a frenzied assortment of pollen clad blooms
Enhancing creation with lust and a craving
With nectar, ambrosia scented perfume

The thickets and bushes, with industry cloaked
A sprawling utopia thriving therein
With bees and with butterflies drinking their fill
And drizzled in webs which the spiderfolk spin

A meandering trail through flourishing life
An encouraging push from the sun to my rear
Entrancing, the chill of the dew underfoot
Yet thrusting itself like an ice laden spear

My sight is attracted by hidden desire
To a door at the crest of a flurry of stairs
And the stone of the flight is as fire to my soles
After languishing still as the midsummer glares

The door is ajar and within comes the sound
Of a single piano, adeptly caressed
Each note sends a shiver rebounding around me
In purity soaked and perfection possessed

I make my way forward and darkness inside
Removes me of sight as my pupils adjust
And the air is intense as a northerly breeze
And shimmers in motes cut of sunlight and dust

My eyes become clear and before me they see
Cascading and dancing a musical frieze
A picture in motion, a fairytale path
In a spectrum of tones and a myriad keys

Inspiration her name and the course she describes
Is a poem in light to beguile the mind
She speaks with her body, a wordless refrain
Of a mystery poets have clamoured to find

A pipe cuts a harmony no one could play
Distilling forever the passage of time
And though such a symphony draws at the tongue
Causality never once utters a rhyme

A pattern of shimmering images form
Behind inspiration and quickening pace
To fade with the music and ever be lost
Lest the pen of a poet can hold them in place

Most fickle of muses and teaser of tongues
To flirt with despair and to promise elation
We chase but remaining just out of out reach
Is the ghost of a girl which we call ‘Inspiration’

The eyes snap open,
Like the shutter on a camera,
Pupils fixed and tracking,
Watching every move,
Never blinking,
Pinholes peering into the depths of you,
Below subconscious,
Leering at your mind,
Keeping record of your every move,
Peering inside,
Knowing your thoughts,  
Knowing what it thinks to be 'you'
A total surprise,
'no one can tell, right?'
It's like beauty,
Obvious to some,
Invisible to others,
I know ,if you know, and dread these dreams,
Then release me.

Atomistic projections birthe free out of a thick and porous shell, candid with light and bleached from the inside. And it fractals out into zero, infinitely. But how we collapse is imprecision. What function spits your mortar out? Or are you unawares of the gaps left in your voice? This is the decision to systematically disassemble yourself. No one else. And it won't be where you look, or even when, but it shadows every thought, and lives off feeble grasps in its direction. How can you know a river when the river is yourself? If a door is always closed could it be called a wall? A man cannot step into himself more than once.