Red is the color of anger
That burns and boils and bubbles
It seethes and seems to soak into beauty
It is cold and fierce and fiery
And ironically
*red is the color of love

in lovely refrain
a choir of currawongs chorus
their melodic tune

of equilibrium time stopped
along her shadow
looked back at me
smiled

then I began again confusion
but for that second
I was not worried
scared

I had reached entropy
had it in my grasp
between finger and thumb
a second

fleeting like present does
hard to grab hold to
I wonder how I did that
and try to repeat it
but

time has become  my obsession
trying to wonder if it goes back
or just forward
so

I experiment with travelling
in my mind trying to
go back and find
once more
that time

I am
unsuccessful
so far

satin sheets lil candies champagne
dimmed lights
candles flickering
crescent moon in the window
and ten dollars left
in my budget
and she is not here
I shaved my whiskers
bought expensive cologne
trimmed my forest
combed my hair
awaited her to knock
it never came
so
I guess that ****** site was bogus
let me try another

love her oohs and ahs
music to my ears
her vociferousness
we parlayed and drank several hours away
laughed and smoked a blunt
and her hand was right there
I was expecting her to pull it away
when I reached out and touched it
she was a lady but
let me grasp her
and she was quite a lady
my ears are ringing

Clash of flint
Against flint

Spark inspiration-
Sharp intake of
Cold cold breath

(Drawing on walls
Fair game-
New directions)

Made me a cave
Dug by hand and
Ax

To drag a mate
Cozy and sweet

Burn briar and herbs

Tame lion and wolf

All fingers
And opposing thumbs.

Standing upright,
Loser of all I survey

Surrender to the dance

And praise

Praise praise

I swirl galaxies
In a fit of pique

Soothe exo planets
Locked in orbit

Blow gentle air
From hot face
To freezing rear

This I
Centre of centreless
Space

Dimple in the chin
Of directionless
Being

Entire universe
Mere metaphor

Of how This I
May feel
Right now.

This vaunted ambition
These vaulted palaces

Celebrants all of

This I that
This I calls

God as a two year old
Stamping mighty feet

This nothing at all
This whatever
This I
That is what it is

And loves only
This I

Now that life has
Scattered

To the ten
Directions

Blown by winds
Of change
Of chance

How

Where shall
We once more

Coalesce?

I most certainly did know Joe
He was my friend you know.
I knew him for a decade or so.
I always enjoyed the Joe Show.

Joe was rather different,
Sometimes even diffident.
He got in some predicaments,
But I was his instrument.

I called it the Joe Show because
Joe was sort of like Santa Claus.
When he came into a room
He would disspell all the gloom.

It was hard to outshine Joe;
The coolest guy you could know.
He was the best of friends, so
I should have told you, Joe don’t go
But I was clueless, I didn’t know.

All of the good times we once knew
All of the silliness we went through.
So many memories of me and you.
Who can predict what fate will do?

Joe made me feel special,
Like I was living in a serial.
He was usually amenable.
Sometimes ministerial.

Now I have no more time to go
I never told you I’d miss you so.
I just couldn’t because I didn’t know.
I never got to tell you, Joe don’t go.