You taste like caramel
and I don't even
have to
open
my
    
   mouth

Gentle rustle and
creak of bamboo

Far off soothing flute
and soft drum, gentle
mist caressing marsh

Barefoot monks pad
roads accepting simple
alms of curry, rice;
Blessings and incense
float on smooth air.

Sudden cacophony of
mynah explode the grove, a
steady chant bubbles under
the noise, some new symphony
of hunger below bloodshot sky.

Dogs militate exercise,
giving voice, cat slips in
knowing, paws daddy whiskers.

Hawking cough of the headman
announcing his non-demise-
neighbourly sighs.

Crab unburrows and scurries
aside from sand to lapping tide
to feast on volitional jelly who
come inshore to breed and die,
so many alien pearls strung
glistening along the strand.

Particular light
waving a billion
miles from billion
year ball of gas to
tickle my iris.

And I am shy to show
the ancient traveller
the flipside of men,
blast crater uprooting
the sacred tree of life.

What happened to the
marbled head,
so noble and *****,
the burst of creativity
from cave to modernity?

What happened to sun,
einsteined to power,
the sunny side up
scrambled to gross
confusion and the limitless
cruelty to birthing eve?

If I were there I would caress your heart
with the thread of a silken cocoon
Stitched now as one on the eve of the weary,
bound by the light of the moon
Careful to touch oh so soft as a feather,
gentle as spider web tears
Keeping you close on the edge of the tomorrow,
shielding your soul from the fears

Dew drop beliefs on the lawn they are waiting,
prisms of lighthearted scenes
Dandelion clouds offer sweet pea protection,
dragonflies float in between
Watching as breezes of painted day whispers
on kite strings of warm summer fire
Sing with the echoes, repeating their sonnet,
offering all you desire

Though all I have is a poet’s conviction,
spilled now in ink penned to share
Hoping on dreams you will rest in the sunrise,
find a few moments to spare
Taking the hand of this forgotten hero,
trusting in him ever true
Open your eyes for a new day is dawning,
written with love just for you

You know how you're down and out
on the river, three sheets to the wind,
doing some night casting, a little
moonlighting to pay off the bill,
and you decide, by god I'm tired
of drifting, I think I'll anchor here.

Me, I'm living on beer, boiled eggs,
and ruined mascara. Tonight,
I'll make enough to buy a roll of dimes
so she can play the box, so she can drop
them in the sawdust, on purpose
and lean over, oh me, oh my.