In the quiet chambers of my heart,
Where moonlight weaves its silver art,
I trace the contours of your name,
A whispered secret, aflame.

Our love, a tapestry of stardust spun,
Across the vast expanse, we run,
Hand in hand, through cosmic skies,
Two souls entangled, bound by ties.

Each kiss a comet's fiery trail,
Across the night, we set sail,
And in the constellations' dance,
Our love finds its eternal chance.

So let the galaxies bear witness true,
To this love that defies time's curfew,
For in your eyes, my universe unfurls,
And forevermore, we are stardust swirls.

Los and Lettes,
the horrorcore fans,
the post-******* brats,
the goths,
the stoners,
the metalheads,
Phish fans with no regrets,
To Les Claypool high on toadstool, Reggaeton  block party vets,
To the cigarette carrying beatniks,
Hipsters in turtlenecks,
Fashionable Teens wearing fashionable things,
Armani and Diamond rings,
Business men in formal attire,
Old folks about to expire,
gospel musicians getting higher and higher.
***** alley banter bands, who find their lyrics at the bottom of cans.

At that I had lost my rhyme scheme knowledge dropped on every scene to which i thought i was superior.

Nothing said in so many lines, fines paid for literary crimes.
Like fines levied for a lost library book.

No writing comes
Long whispering night
A silence as loud as dynamite
Heavy hands
starry eyes
Soaked shirt collars
I left the alcohol behind me
Lost my muse
Had I anything to say to you
It was lost in the roar of crickets
A moon shining brightly overhead
all words flowing
Nothing making sense
The sting
the back of my throat
the muse coming forth
sobriety lost in one fell swoop
gaining the attention that I’d lost
the old familiar run mouth
words leaving my lips before they ever made sense
30 pages for you
20 for me
what did it all mean

Will write for recognition
Quatrain -  Haiku - Sonnet
Now accepting commision

How dare you raise that banner
How dare you spit on the corpses of my dead brethren
We marched together
We always stood at each others side
holding hands and singing songs
The blues beat us red
Clearly now I can see that we were sold
Not revolutionaries
Commodities

Godiva was a wild dame
spirit no man could tame
she rode *******
showing her *** crack
and in the end she came