PIPE DREAM
Alone on a dark blue sea
I sit in my small wooden boat
ponder my being, my life, my demise
my sea life friends embrace me

Alone, I wonder if this emptiness
is real or a dream
I search for the moon’s smile
to lighten my mood
I fear the darkness

Alone, I wonder if some soul desires me
I scan the night skies
white, yellow stars blink
perchance some hope

Alone, tears roll down my weathered face
hawks and seagulls shroud me
attempt to absorb their concern
hear whispers nearby
to alter my fire
take a chance on one’s pipe dream

SHADOWS

Fantasies of a mermaid
on a cloistered island, candle lit
she emerges from the cold abyss
slithers to my naked torso
electrifies me
flesh to flesh
musing as one

An intense painting
comes to a life
abstractions of intimacy
patterns of flirtation
hues of iridescent bronze, cobalt blue
washes in white

Muted whispers
she forsakes
plunges into deep shadows

EMBERS

Aging folks, sagging cores
sliver of passion endures
two arthritics push life to the limit
travel like snails to reach the flesh
under silken sheets
ecstasy wilts
albeit, innermost embers
still burn

THE SEA HEARTS

Weightless hearts
bob up and down
on a cerulean blue sea
fisherman smile
dolphin’s wink

Weighted, woeful hearts
sink to the bottomless depths
to bond with onerous beasts
not once will they see the sun

I follow you through my mind’s eye
When I awaken to sun’s greeting
When I slumber under moon’s wonder
always

Trendy vibes
graffiti rhapsody
walls, fire hydrants, pissoirs, post boxes, lamp posts
barbie doll retro craze
gargoyles glued to decco slabs
slumber parties on empty benches
electronic beat echoes
through the canyons
cobblestone memories
restaurants, cafes, spew into streets
cars crawl gingerly
fearful of snagging
happy-go-lucky revelers
sunsets reflect off mirrored spires
notably one who harbors emotions
of a dynamic woman
and whose mood shifts with hues of color

CHAINSAW

Willowy forests sustain us, creates new life
We breathe its colorful energy
Scents of pine, damp moss
Rain, wet tree stumps
Flowers, needle-covered paths
Winter snow saturates, whiteouts of magic

We hug trees for they soothe our inner core
Yet, the whine and grind of chainsaws
Denudes vast swathes of broken hearts
Shrivels in shreds of grief

LIFE STORY

My tenuous wings
persistent wind blows
weakens my spirit
lazily slump
into a warm
wrinkled hand
my ***** forego
demise awaits

Stranger’s kindness
induces my second’s dream
wings fortify to fly
once again
kiss the flowers
hop the grass
hope

This day
my life’s story
edges towards
the earth’s abyss
where my fellow
extinct butterflies
belong
in this totality

TROUBLED MELODIES
Muggy summer breeze
Draws a euphony of my neighbor’s violin
Into my open window
Curtains dance in the humid air
I listen, follow the notes
Whistle along that which is familiar
Birds chirp to enhance a harmony
Leaves rustle to complete a symphony

At once music ceases
I listen to the curses, loud noises
My neighbor wrestles with perfection
Though I fail to understand
She increases volume perhaps to improve quality

Abruptly, it stops
I hear a ferocious bang, ring in my rears
I surmise she flat broke her violin
Weeps and wails echo in the street
The maestro of perfection
Suffers defeat

Lavender, sweet orange, rich amethyst
Compress a deep cobalt sky
Breath of darkness soon encloses
Locks me in a cosmic dream
I ascend to a brilliant star
Somewhere life of sorts prevails
All and sundry float
Slightly overhead
Unknown to brush the glaze
Euphony cascades with moonbeams
Further, celestials dance in abstract forms
Whilst I awaken
My splendid star descends
In a gradual manner
To open my moody eyes

CLUTTER

Clutter muddles the mind
A plethora of ideas
Musings, dreams, disturbing notions
perplexed, a rushing river
oblivious to calm waters
suspends slumber, blurs blue skies together

A luminary space of disjointed concepts, daunting,
Dive with the dolphins, prattle with a parrot
Scrutinize the moon’s abstractions
Trim the inner linings
Tranquilize the chaos

PEN PALS
I flip the pages of old letters
Across a dark ocean
Paper yellows, black ink pen fades
Words a blur, like the fog that hovers
Memories endure

She lives massive waves away
Fresh letters are crisp
exuberant, adventure, secrets
Just between us, in the clouds that pass us by
Mail is sluggish, boats ply rough waters
I await, my heart flutters, as an envelope
Flings through the mail slot
I slash it apart, pieces fly in the slight breeze
Impatience to read, her news is like the sun’s reflection on the sea
Her new boyfriend, budding romance, sensual stars
New spring clothes, picnics in the freshly cut green grass

I reply forthwith, though my words, are slack and drab
A glass half empty, all the same routine
As seasons come and go, naught of change
I compose words made from dreams and moonbeams
So, it will ensure our constant write

The last letter appears
My intuition bespeaks of evil tidings
She has taken ill
Scribble words in the main, blur to my eyes
I surrender a slice of my soul
Yet keepsakes survive

FRIENDSHIP
Why do friends snub one another
When rage batters them
No remark of what harm has taken the fury

Hence, one lunches a question
Is this person truly a friend?
If yes, then why not spew the fury?
And let is pass
Is it weakness?
Is it fright?
Is it foolish?
Does one dismiss it?
So that is the ultimate brushoff
Friends should never forget
Between us is undoubtedly the best bet

A pair of expert free divers
High fly into the clear aqua sea
They splash in unison
Deep cavities in the water
Wide circles of ripples
Shapes obscure in the abyss
Bubbles surge to the surface

In the dark blue deep
Figures interweave
Hair swings back
Plucked by the current
Immerse in freedom
Envelop in sensual desire
Seek intimacy they both covet

Sea creatures embrace them
Who thirst equally
lovers kiss among
The psychedelic colors of swimming species
Who encircle them and share their secrets

Make me, take me
Mold me into your spirit
Let us enfold into one
Perfumed lips smack together
Honeydew bodies overlay
rose-scented breaths entwine
love has wrapped us into
a blind drunk package with a red bow

On crisp, bright winter days
She jogs in a place called “the quarry”
A mountain sculpted by a nearby cement company
In another way, the landscape is painted with
Miles of faded grass, black cows, bare trees
And wide-open spaces resembling the wild west

On any given day she jogs the route
Pony tail flips in the light breeze
Blue sweatshirt to match the sky
Gray leggings, old sneakers, jean ball cap

She looks straight ahead
In the distance, she catches a glimpse of a red object
She gains momentum, as she approaches
It proves to be a bright red women’s cowboy boot
Lays on the side of the road, though only one
Why would someone abandon it nearby a cow pasture?
Strikes her as a puzzling behave
She muses awhile, picks up the boot
Tries it on, way too large
Visualizes what this person may look like
No doubt in her twenties
Tall and slim, perchance red hair, fair skin and freckles

She clearly remembers this odd setting
For she aspires to paint this magnificent landscape
Faded green grass, black cows, dark mauve ramshackle barn
And splash of red to mimic the boot
A brilliant canvas!

VEIL OF HOPE

Breathe, for we are swept
Into a wave of freedom
Close to a calm sea

A shear veil of hope
we sense a new dawn
Our mourning expires

We spiral, sturdy
With confidence and spirit
Which flows deep inside

Radiant aqua skies
and butterflies
roll down hills
and high fly thrills
water splash
giggles and laughs
sand castles
no hassles

Jump puddles
teddy bear cuddles
truly curious
at times furious
bundles of wonder
treasures under
smell the flowers
sense the showers
warm and dry
ready for cherry pie

Two  lives commingle
two faces melt into one
lips bound
figures wrapped taught
passion shrouds them
one unique glimmer
tongues taste
all the rest
is shadow

Hues of warm and cold
spirit cleaves
dark and light, blue and white
spectacles of sinister clouds hover
viscous rainbow lips
bespeak intensity
lukewarm beard
defines the divide in desire
though in dreams
torments in the halo
images of sorceress enclose
scents of rapture breeze in
awaken in sublime void

Each brilliant summer day, we stroll along Rockmont Road
We opt for this precise venue for its splendor and tranquility
Three shimmering lakes, link by islands of land
wrapped in green with budding flora
Frigid mountain water spills over from one to the next

In Summer, the brave splash around the islands
with blue lips, as they disembark the chilly water
sun drenched towels await them
the less brave prefers canoes to catch the scene
a timeless ride where naught matters beyond the allure

In Fall, the Rockmont lakes turn into a flood of colors
red, gold, bright orange, brown, warm yellow
trees reflect in the lakes, a mirror image
crisp breezes form ripples, ducks float alongside
leaves tumble and settle in the water

This time every year, biker and joggers
prefer this place for the very same pretext
as the Summer strollers and swimmers
a peaceful and impressive space to frolic

Dreamy sunsets
passing cotton clouds
sun dips underside
three colors blend
into a wash of rainbow hues
a kaleidoscope of keepsakes

**** trees surround us
but for a lone re-leaved shrub
pine green, pristine scene

Cloudless mid-blue sky
peeks though a thicket of trees
Woodpecker at work

Brown barn roof blankets
with pine needles and bird ****
a nest sits upstairs

A Mountain Bluebird
matches the sky
soars so high
he settles on a cotton puffy cloud
tires after a wind catches his wing
he takes respite on a pink-hued billow
light weight and fine fathered
comfortable, he relaxes his wings
in daylight, sun drenches him in hot yellow warmth
in darkness, blue moon beholds him in midnight caress

As he observes Earth
he notes devastation from afar
heretofore obscured
oceans jam-packed with plastic
denuded forests
scarified mountain tops
dank air, garbage spill
cities dense with humans
heaps of cars flattened out
smog hangs low

Once, home to a family nest
in an oak tree on a lush green farm
at present, he scrutinizes the spectacle
hence, he opts to tarry
with the clouds, the sun, the moon, the stars

Old Grandfather clock greets its demise
the singular timepiece for old Mrs. Wise
What's to be done, I shall not know the time
who gives a ****, says her alter ego, you will be fine

Pitiable Mrs. Wise entrusts that clock
indeed, the soothing sounds of tick tock
in what way shall I know when to do what?
don't rankle says her ego, you'll be smack on the spot

Wherewith I know when it's time to sleep?
Thou shall see darkness shush not a peep
at what moment shall I ready the tea in the morn?
when the moon whispers its forthcoming dawn

In the absence of my clock, I am utterly lost
be sedate Mrs. Wise the clock has been tossed
a notion just came to me and I shan't ever tell
but now I hear the time by the old church bell

My untried timepiece is really quite fine
Hence, my body clock moves in a tidy sum of time

Watercolor rolls on my canvas
as a sprinkle of tears on my cheeks
cool colors of blue, green, purple, jet black
mimic my sober mood
I scrawl repeatedly
until I strike my resolve

Trees obscure the atmosphere
lakes succumb to burnt umber
vacuous canvas swallows my spine
hues of paint befit my spirit

Gratification commands accomplishment
my cheeks prove to be dry
so too the consummate work of art

I trust that my next attempt
reflects a warm-hued mood
as the break of dawn awakens
strokes of red, orange yellow
splash on my canvas
in a flight of frenzy
my hand on the run
as my world unlocks
clarity prevails

Two bemused birds encounter beside an oak tree
they notice an abandoned nest
Ross the Red Breasted Robin affirms it as his own
Bobby the Bluejay suggests they share it
"NO!" says Ross. I bolted in first. It's mine!"
"I believe I can squeeze in too", claims Bobby
"Wait! maybe not; you're quite fat."
"Shall we take turns utilizing the nest to sleep?"
"NO" says Ross the Robin , "Never!"
"Per chance", queries Bobby, "How can we settle this?
"Who can fly there the quickest?"
"Never" says Ross the Robin, "I own it!"
Bobby the Bluejay's anger surges to send a secret
message to his cousin Boris
Hence, Bobby collects his bird army
attacks Ross the Robin
whose obese body lay motionless
as he mutters "I shan't yield."

The angel of peace
settles on earth
to inform us
of earthly worth

So much to learn
to ensconce our differ
we shall resist
at whatever trickster

The path to peace
lays onerous to thought
we ought not fear
the trend to be caught

We hope to instill
those who will listen
that peace is vital
for a life to glisten

Let us harmonize as we trek
on the pathway to still
as we ration our divide
strengthen our will

Maudlin face, head tilt
blood shot eyes
robed in black
she stands with tremor
before a cold gray stone
epitaph wilts

An anniversary
in the absence of celebration
scrambled sentiments bolt through her head
guilt, loss, anger, emptiness
temper that persists
to the cold core of her bones
despite the blistering sun's potency

Worst of all
a child's grievous capture from life
dreaded spectacle that no parent need behold
spears the bedrock
by no means overlooked

All that prevails
skeleton dust
beneath the dark, dank earth
endearing sentiments stretch through the years
laughter, cries, togetherness, family love
trappings of life she holds tight

Today, as leaves dance to the dark earth
red, gold, brown
mist soars to obscure the high mountain peaks
a mesmerizing mood

Brings me back to younger days when I flipped, flopped, splashed
in a myriad of puddles
while my mother shrieked "Don't get your pants wet"
I asserted my independence and gloated
in my own  slap happy world
not a word did I hear

At once, I smell the dew
Grass still green from frequent summer rains
listen to the squeaky wet grass beneath my boots
take note of those tiny morsels stuck underside

A macabre walk in the clouds
a muzzy vision of the sticks in the forest
tree tops just a mirage
I snap a photo to trap the ghostly silence
which attests to my musing temper

A mini-sphere ruptures
amends untold lives for all time
abandons those close to devastation
the angel of death executes her calling
upon a still warm body
a man whose depression pleads for her to save him

Those left behind
remember the decimation
nightmares
demise, hollow
only dark memories float
angel of death clinches him
at once, they bolt into an unknown space of her choice.

Alone, in springtime, I cultivate my garden
***** my finger on a pink rose stem
a slight smudge of bright red blood
trickles to my palm
a blemish, no distress
resembles a red tattoo

I recall as a wee child
I would shriek at the glimpse of blood
time being I kiss the rose
grateful for its sugary fragrance
which edifies my spirit

Opposites entice
surge of the season
heat scorches the golden sand
swim towels scatter, soda pop cans astray
smell of suntan lotion and seaweed
trickles of waves bubble to the shore
last idle days of summer

Culmination
sun's energy pales
beaches hollow, beseech sunbathers, walkers
footprints of Sandpipers scamper
scents of salty waves swell near the beach
bright red faces fade, scabby skin

Brand new flavor bursts in
muffled breath of cool air
slight breeze swings one's hair
refreshes the core
hints of red, yellow, green hues
alight on leaves
sun glowers
fall beckons

Rain pours down on my broken core
my nerves pulsate from the soak
still I quiver, though I dry myself
in the warmth of the sun
darkness besieges within
as the world passes me by
my comfort lay in the blackness of the ocean
lifesaver that has its absence
only fleetingly

I find solace with the sea creatures
I am lulled
they greet me with an enduring glance
no pretense in my sanctum
voices of my sphere
who empathize with my pain
and, as I exit for a time
I deem unsavory
the colors of the detached world, onerous
I totter after my soak, rattle with unease
my repose is dark, as I yield to the inkiness in peace

Dandelion white seed cloud
ticklish to my nose, giggle
as it was when a young child
puff the airy seeds
whiff, only the stem remains
years ago, I rendered a wish
longed for it to come true

At present I am an aging arthritic
As I walk routinely about colorful fields
near my house, I pick these featherweight belles
say to myself "Am I too old to realize wishes?"
I ponder, and given that I am a sentimentalist
I go for it!
Blow and tiny seeds flutter and alight on me
I believe it is a good omen

While I walk I discover a bench, slightly hidden
behind a broad oak tree, all the while I hold the stem
sit, eyes close with ease
breathe the scent of freshly cut grass
slowly submit to a space between wake and sleep

I am in France, countryside, by a river
Ornate chateau, vineyard close by
stocks our bon vivant taste
acres of hillsides covered with
yellow **** and purple grapes
ancient road edges up to the chateau
garden of green, yellow and red vegetables
presents to table
freshly cooked by chef Henri
the pool is cool and refreshing
just as I approach my dive

I wake up!!
what a lovely sojourn
medicine for the arthritis
,

I used to swish about Bear Creek
behind our white clapboard family farm house
I remember the water smelled clean
Not salty or muddy
it squirts over glossy mossy rocks
all shapes ans sizes
slip slide after rain gushes down

When the sky opens its hatch
it belches rain in globs
Bear Creek swells swiftly
rocks fade away
it spins anger
waves emerge, frothy white caps
mimics an incensed ocean

Swollen creeks are bouncy
my inner tube travels fast
my bottom strokes frigid mountain water
but oh I wished it would last

DARK MAGIC
Listen, the owl's hoot
a glance at his yellow eyes
wonder if he dreams

OUCH
A night in the barn
all swallows flutter about
screech, shrills wound my ears

CATCH-EM
Bats have widespread wings
augmenting their rattling speed
unless they are trapped

A touch of sea foam
as it bubbles up the beach
covers my cold feet

A smokey gray sky
assists the calm of the sea
no ripples today

I smell salty air
the sea is so curative
I can float all day

Summer storms thrash about
slants the rain
boom clouds, lightning bolts
abstraction in the night skies

When it passes
at the dim light of dawn
rainwater cuts deep ruts
into the hillsides
rocks and mud crash land
to their resting place

The sun all dressed for the day
shrivels and dries the earth
tidies up the setting
bushes and flowers, neatly planted
stand *****, raindrops atop
to enhance color and scents
ahead of the next blast

His life hides behind a clown's face
pasty, psychedelic paint, gooey glop
please refrain from the peel
frigid tear drops
trapped into a cold, black stone

Thursday
last exam
edgy, jitters
study in a thick fog
troubled about the breakup
could she wait
one more day?

I caught a snapper
belly white as sea foam
puff white clouds above

The moon wakens my evening nap
compelling beams of beguiling yellow light
render my eyes to flutter
bespeaks of intensity
captures my focus
spellbinding lust stalks me
cascades at midnight
begets a lecherous mood
scents of burning embers

At first, I am vacuous, timorous, still
in the seam of a bewitching web
of intricate fabric
until silky threads enfold me
shroud me with tranquility, repose
shelter me from the cruel abyss

streaks of the afternoon sun
unsettle my eyes
murky views of essence
at dusk, I ignite
my legs creep, cautious steps
not to break a thread
stretch the nest, infinite particles
of flawless patterns
action breeds worth
as I explore my web of intoxication
sure, that I am safe
in time, I will emerge from this sanctuary
into the dark abyss from whence I came