the vivisectionist comes to call
when I am separated from you
his palsied incautious hands
removing the hours from my body

one

at

a

time

dragging his dull rusted scalpel
across my psyche
in his leaden deliberate pace
whistling
tunelessly
monotonously
in my ear
he will have no truck
with anesthetic

I am bathed
in the sanguine gore
of his butchery
which others mistake
for sadness

the bells peal
toneless
in the hollow place
of the night

and the moon is
the cold light
of tenuous dreams
seen through
the strained fabric of
a threadbare sky

shadows of midnight words
pulled long and thin
by the weight
of expectation
sit by the road
waiting for redemption
that never comes

pallid night flowers bloom
in hidden places
adorned by a feeble glow
without scent
in their ragged flesh

words whispered by
constrained throats
are consumed

devoured by the ravening silence
blasting down
from oblivion

Some want to redistribute wealth
Perhaps instead we should redistribute love
Then wealth would redistribute itself

I hinge upon you
you are the fulcrum
of all my motion

I want to see the northern lights
but I cannot say why

it is said that sometimes
if conditions are right
you can see them from here

but it never seems to work
for me

even if the sky is clear
I cannot see them
when I am told I might

others say they have seen them here
I don’t think I believe them

some set a camera
on very long exposure
to take their picture

I can’t stare at the sky
for a very long time
all at once
like a camera

maybe I want to see them
because I haven’t seen them before

there are other things I want to see
but never have

like the life I was meant to have
with you

maybe if I’d had
a better camera

I once heard someone say
when discussing life’s troubles

“Don’t worry, God is flipping
the big pancakes”

I thought
“It’s a good thing somebody is”

even the little silver dollar ones
come out burned on one side
gooey on the other
and stuck to the wall
when I try

Tango on a tightrope
Argentine Cross vibrating the line
like the strings of a Latin guitar
playing our song
only a spider’s web for a net
if we fall

Waltz on a wall top thirty stories high
our story tops them all
traffic below doesn’t even see
top hat and tails, silk gown
cocktails in our hands
Fred and Ginger sit it out to watch

Rumba on a rope bridge
hips sway in time
with the windblown span
gliding past missing boards
waterfall below shouts up to us
can’t make out what it says

Paso Doble on a plane
faux bullfight on a wing
Matador and his scarlet cape
pose and sweep
turbulence tilts the dance floor
ten thousand feet to the ground

Quickstep in the quicksand
feet so light in rapid step
no time to sink
flow across the surface
to syncopated beats
shoes left stuck to the floor

steps we mastered long ago

now we glissade and sweep
only to the rhythm of us
most challenging of all dances
and most natural of movements
always in step
dancing on the edge of our hearts

Measure my love in starlight
And set the sky ablaze
Measure my love in words
And eternal speak my beloved’s praise

Measure my love in raindrops
And overflow the seas
Measure my love in sighing
And make storms from a summer breeze

Measure my love in music
And hear all the world’s choirs sing
Measure my love in riches
And make every pauper a king

Measure my love in heartbeats
And deafen every ear
Measure my love in laughter
And banish every tear

Seek to measure my love as some might wish
By consulting the learned or wise
But each effort will fail, because such a scale
No mortal thought can devise

“you leave me breathless” she sighed, as their lips parted
“then take mine” he offered “all I have is yours”

always leave room for me
in the margarines of your life

I am formed to be yours
at the threshold of inception
we were molded together
bisected, to find rejoining

your every curve locks to me
as water flows to find its depth

my eyes are shaped
to see your face
my gaze is drawn to you
as the moon draws the tide

my lips are patterned
for your inimitable kiss
I can taste only you

my heart opens for your love alone

I am a bell tuned to a singular tone
reverberating with your voice
I resonate with the sound of your name

the key of your words
unlocks my undiscerning ears
that I may hear you
whisper to me of love

your scent perfumes my life
echoes of you in each fragrance

my fabric and yours interlaced
without seam or stitch
we fully encompass each
the other encircling

don’t make me write another poem
with fancy words cause I don't know ‘em

I’ll write a book or short article
make science notes about a particle

a brief speech or an opinion piece
type a travel blog of sunny Greece

I’d gladly pen a romance novel
if poetry’s asked I’d sooner grovel

I’ve lost the power of rhyme you see
as fork and spoon sound the same to me

but now I see what I have written
it reads like Edward Bulwer-Lytton

I’m stuck in couplets what a curse
but what the hell it could be verse

How do I go
When my absence melts you
How do I turn away
When I am immersed in you

What else can I see
If you are all my vision
What can draw my mind
If you are each thought

Are you truly alone
While you are surrounded by fears
Are you left without voice
While you scream in silence

Is there a limit to my rekindlings
As I extinguish with each last look
Is it possible to breathe
As lungs fill with endless calls to you

At what point could there be too much us
Though there is never enough
At what point is pain exhausted
Though the void of apart is limitless

Where is the end of empty
Can it be found when we are cleft
Where do we cease to touch
Can we be disjoined at any point

Why do we bleed with stilled hearts
Must away be bottomless
Will actuality ever come right
Do we survive, or die trying

A creature not of here or there
With parts that do not fit
Neither fish nor fowl, horse or bear
A bashed together kit

Too many heads, some with horns
Body furred and scaled
Eagles wings and spines like thorns
And as a peacock tailed

Some aspects might bring a smile
While others will repel
One small detail may beguile
Yet another breaks the spell

Each pack or flock it tries to join
Though they seemed akin
And in some facet quite adroit
Another portion can’t fit in

Every time it tries as best it may
To hide an offending section
Knowing that if seen in light of day
The result will be rejection

So the beast remains an alien
Cloaks what's best concealed
Strives to imitate the chameleon
That no misshape be revealed

All creatures hunger for a home
Chimera hungers too
But it wanders doomed to roam
A haven to pursue

Forced by covenant to conceal
The wound you carry deep
Too dangerous far to now reveal
The secret you must keep

The truth, it’s said, can set you free
Whose truth, I ask my heart
Some truth must hide, to shadow flee
Or slay as a poisoned dart

A truth which must be guarded well
Though to be shouted loud it cries
Must be restrained and forced to dwell
Within a citadel of lies

A soaring fort of alabaster walls
Splendid turrets as disguise
Conceals pits beneath its gilded halls
Where love lies brutalized

Though we ache for all the world to see
To the heart, it matters naught
Two souls are not united by decree
Nor love with license bought

So truth must wait and a prisoner remain
In lonely cell, there to abide
Believe dreams of freedom are not in vain
That gates, one day, will open wide

words hanging out together
down at the corner

doing nothing
saying nothing

getting in the way
begging for attention

some spend so much time together
they start to rhyme

some just lay there
bad poetry is everywhere

glad I don’t write bad poetry
uh oh ….

time steals up soft in autumn’s haze
through fallen leaves and frosted morn
no longer smiles through summer days
bears dreadful gaze of mercy shorn

scribes lines upon youth’s winsome face
and brings the ache of stiffened joint
gives halting stride and slower pace
age piled like leaves does thus anoint

yet in thine eye dwells springtide’s bloom
in ardor’s dance is lightened tread
warm voice dispels autumnal gloom
at gentle touch are decades fled

for love knows naught of count of days
let the years flow as they will
unclouded passion’s flames yet blaze
I shall be thy lover still

She bolts awake from nightmare’s fear
Her mind fumbles for the mask
Its visage calm, gaze cool and clear
Once in place no one will ask

Exhausted from her restless night
Escape routes all slammed shut
The knots already pulling tight
Deep down inside her gut

The enemy stand at their station
They circle round her bed
Anticipating her annihilation
The demons in her head

Her feet are not yet on the floor
But the battle has begun
Another endless day of war
She must fight, she cannot run

She glances quickly in the glass
Haunted eyes she cannot meet
The enemy charge takes the pass
Her soul in forced retreat

The mask will serve her well today
Its rigid smile conceals
The terror barely held at bay
The torment that she feels

She plants her banner on the mound
Though hopelessness holds sway
She grits her teeth and holds her ground
But the ******* make her pay

All day the battle rages on
But the mask remains in place
Though at her feet hell’s chasms yawn
The world sees not a trace

The conflict ebbs, her shoulders slump
No victory is claimed
She turns for home, trailing blood
Count her among the maimed

Return to camp yields no respite
Command’s duties have no end
Cares for her troops into the night
Strength's last measure she will spend

All her charges now in bed
Mask in hidden place she keeps
In resignation bows her head
And midst the dark, in silence weeps

Now when the camp lies silent
In night’s hush no pennant streams
She braces for coming violence
And girds for bloodshed in her dreams

I have no memory of breath
till we kissed
now each breath recalled
spoke of you

each moment infused
with airs of your inclination
your unfolding sigh
filled me

kiss me
once more

your lips on mine
breathe into me
my last breath
must be yours

till I return it

they said she was a dreamer
no clouds to veil her thoughts
a fantasy believer
her mind a maze of knots

she loved to live in make believe
talking to her porcelain kitty
thrilling stories she could weave
a pint-sized Walter Mitty

dreams can change as we grow
so it was for her
imagined prince became a beau
Oz became Big Sur

childhood fancies may pass away
with little pain or strife
but adult hopes, should they betray
can leave a wound for life

so many ways that dreams can die
some peaceful and humane
some burn out, or with a sigh
others outright slain

dreams can turn to nightmares
some live past their death
haunting those who called them theirs
once precious as each breath

but dreams can holy grace receive
and dreams can live again
hearts can heal, no longer grieve
and faith not be in vain

dreams can live on love alone
dreams shared grow stronger still
a dream fulfilled can be a home
or a castle on a hill

aboard the aircraft metaphorical
bearing those employed
by companies large and small

a moment arrives when the cryptic
overhead lights instruct
that the time to leave has come

passengers are led to the open door
at the rear of the fuselage
where they will leap into the mist

the happy few will be strapped
into a designer backpack
filled with a carefully packaged parachute
of luminous gold

others are handed
a sturdy bundle which holds a
lifesaving paraglider of shining silver

a group somewhat more numerous
gratefully accept their sustaining dome
of spun silk and exit with confidence

the greatest number will be in a line
leading past a toilet paper dispenser
each individual to be ejected will be allotted
a single sheet

the one ply tissue will be printed as follows
“Grasp tissue firmly on opposite sides
hold tissue above head parallel with ground”

a hearty cry of “Good luck!” follows them
as they are assisted through the door
by a well placed boot

wrapped in the tatters of my body
in this measureless place

I search for release
among the disconsolate boles
thin as hope
hard and dark

wearing pallid shrouds
of frozen lace
proudly displayed
in their alfresco mausoleum

an inexhaustible study
in the extremes
of leaden purity

their moribund limbs
and ice sheathed fingers
reach into me
pulling me on

tears of other lives
in frosted glory
cold upon my wintered face

always renewed
and living on
in fractal eternity

when we are young we practice love
though we know not a whit thereof

each pang we suffer our heart askew
must be certain sign of love most true

each time our heart is cut and bruised
is a lesson taught of love misused

a stern instructor of teenage years
life keeps teaching through our tears

but pain and sorrow are love’s only school
we must attend if we would learn this rule

it’s not love itself which does us wrong
but the lying tongue and deceiving song

no love gone bad is not to blame
it’s a selfish heart to which love’s a game

take my hand and don’t let go
hold God’s hand with your other
give no attention to what you hear
it is only murmurs of lies
words which are of no substance
the sounds of phantoms
they want to destroy you
to cause unbearable pain
to everyone you love
do not listen
please


do not let go with either hand
so that you cannot take
the hand of Death
when it is offered