Dawn gently kissed the nape of dusk



Whilst patient time awaited peaking



Majestic streams of solar lust



Born via pre-******* streaking





Saturn's rings exclusive ******



Equipped for sensual fancy



Mesmerized by daring billows



Elevated by buoyancy





Excitement steadily evolving



Cosmic spheres swiftly building



****** timelessly revolving



Licentious shock she is wielding





Dawn coloured blackened skies



Pleasure falling with each tear



****** baring lovely sighs



Passion with a wince of fear









© 2012 (All rights reserved)

Because the deep of my mind is a buzzing thing
analyzing, thinking, joking,
the best of each thought hiding, staying, dozing.
But rarely in coming, a true thought strays,
out of mouth and into being.
It trickles through ears,
roars through brains,
soars the winds,
and it conquers the world.
But then it dies.

I am just a teddy bear,
that's what you always say,
to love and cuddle,
with you I simply lay,
but see,
I know the truth,
teddy bears never stay,
they are forgotten,
dismissed,
and finally thrown away.

Rage and crush and ****,
that's what I want to do,
I scream at the stars,
and reopen old scars.
My vision is red,
is it all in my head?
Why does this happen?
Who am I now?
Certainly not me,
at least not how I was meant to be.
I want to be loving,
and kind,
but doing that only gets me
left behind.

Can my poems touch you?
Can they make you feel?
I tell you what I think is true,
show you what is real.
How could my poems touch you,
maybe make you kneel,
if when the day is through,
even I can't feel?

Moving out
is the time you find
the remnants of past desires.
Tokens of others,
meant to keep and cherish
and always remember.
What happened
to the givers of these,
my companions of old?
I contemplate,
not out of hate,
and look to the phone
sitting alone...
But then I find
I do not care.

Brown-gray whiskers
chaotically twirling
wreath his face.
A testament to hardship
and wisdom accumulated.
His eyes are an ocean
deep and unknowable.
Monsters swim in its deep,
Indescribable.
His face is cracked and wrinkled
but the skin is taut
too tight and jawline stretched.
Mist-like hair meets shoulders,
greasily tangling.
In front of him a rust spotted buggy,
creaking
groaning
holds his world.
Trash bag continents slide against each other
making new mountains,
transforming
shopping cart geography.
I meet his eyes on the sidewalk
but quickly look away.
I always look away.

We all know
what to do
on land
in sun.
Laugh and share
love and care.
But what about
the deep?
What about
the underneath?
Lessons taught
don't compare
to the devil's lair in blue.
Sinking
        d
         o
          w
           n.

Unknown
against
Unknowing.

Plunged
into an ocean,
bottomless and blue.
Oh yes it's deep
no bottom in sight to keep,
certainly no surface.
I kick as told,
through the cold.
Glad I took
swimming lessons.
But even so,
my swimming lessens.

What do you write about when you're empty?
not
a depressing,
a dreary,
a crying empty.
Just
a sitting
a wondering,
a being.
Not content,
not needy,
just neutral.
When that spark eludes you,
when the profound refuses to
scream and scratch
at the borders of the mind,
What do you do?
Maybe strike pen to page in defiance
or just simply think,
maybe go for a run,
or simply drink.
When you're neutral
options are open,
all open.
When you're neutral,
you're free.