The weather has the smell
Of tears in the air
And there is an empty
Sound breathing in the wind
The sea is singing of melancholy
And the birds are swimming
With maladies
The clouds with lines of silver
Have been poisoned by lead
And the hands of death are busy
Collecting all the bees
Time is borrowing from itself
And its bank account
Is nearly bare
The fairy tale of man ends in suicide
And the moon is cheering for our end

I'll drink a round for the living
I'll drink two rounds for the dead
I'll drink three rounds
For all the ones
About to become new dads
For you its all about to change
And change to the very best
You will soon find there is
Nothing better than
Holding your child
To your chest

Free from fears
Of life and death
Tearful flowers
Weep in joy
An oasis springs
Within every essence
Of my soul
And peacful waters flow
As these words
Travel from within
My deepest depths
And sooth throat
And burn as they
Pass my lips
*I Love You

Lets get drunk
And howl at the moon
Lets steal a smile
And **** an innocent kiss
Lets tell a golden fib
And ****** the moons sweet lullaby
Lets dance naked under stars
And taste the flower
Between your thighs
Let our souls descend
To devils fire
And flames of sin
Lets find pleasure of heavens pulse
While lost to acts of hell
Let our voices growl
And whisper heavy
With drips of love
Let us indulge
In merging heart to heart
While commiting deeds
Under sheets of carnal beast
While the ghost
Of the murdered moon
Raises from its ash
And drinks the overflow
Of our love and lust
Not able to distinguish
Between the two
It spreads a drunken smile
Across the night
As it watches
Our madness burning
In time and song
The moon lets out
Its midnight howl

His smile is golden
His heart is honest and pure
May he never change

Back to brush and paint
For inspiration calls me
To dreams of your heart

A pile of dead pens
A solitary graveyard
No ink on their tombs

Be fooled not by shame
Lust is not always a sin
When brought on by love

Rejoice in pleasure
And give into temptation
Dance with the devil

Turtles never die
Where swift creatures often roam
With beasts of steel hide

At one time we were
The fastest little swimmer
That's why we were born

Music is the heart
Of the universal beat
When we all feel love

Life is the reason
That we must ask the questions
Love is the answer

Between brush and pen
And paint and ink
I cannot remember
I cannot think
Did I forget
To get some sleep?
I should be tired
But my eyes
Say no
They say I'll be fine
Just paint and
Write some more
But I need some new supplies
And now I wonder
Is it safe to drive
But no matter how hard
I try
I simple really do not know
If I took a nap or a wink
It really isn't very far
Let me hope
I do not crash the car

Master of the way
East meets west with pen in hand
Haiku Hank is king

Your hearts happiness
Is my only lustful hope
Of my burning soul

I was never lost
To a painting as lovely
As your beating heart

No breath can I take
Without your love in its grasp
Inhale and exhale

Man needs redemption
Hell dreams of colors to sin
I pray to your heart

Love is at its best
When staring lost in your eyes
With no need for words

As the day drags on
My heart is always flying
Beating for your love

The only blind thing
I will follow is my heart
For love needs no eyes

Trust the nobility of monsters
Over the hearts of men
There is more safety
Between the teeth of wolves
Than in the hands of man
Hell had no quarrel with heaven
Until the king wrote it so
For the devil and god
Are but the same soul
Split in two
By the wicked bone knife
Of human sin
The thirst of evil throats
And need of gold
And populace control
Made false history
And prophets
To control
The right and wrong
And moral view
Release your minds
Imprisonment
Know that
The miracle of you
And this gift
Of your breath
And moment
Were not meant
To be wasted
On shame
Of sins you have not
And will not commit
To lust for love
Is a gift
Buzzing freely
In the air
Fill your lungs
Let hearts burst
Live free from guilt
Free from fear
Of wrathful gods
If they gave us life
For any other reason
Than to love
Let it be them
That are forever
Bound to the
Hell of which
Their false preachers
Speak
While molesting
Children in plain sight
And never having
To make amends
Trust in leathery wings
Of dragons
Before bowing
To false kings
Of righteousness
Wearing crowns
Overflowing of
licentiousness

I recieved my very first "hate" mail today... I was very excited and thrilled, because as we all know you aren't doing something right until you make someone angry.  That someone hates what you do with enough passion to take time out of their own life to point out how horrible your work is.  Unfortunately before I received this exciting news, I had in fact not considered myself a wtiter or poet, and even now I still do not.  I'm a theif and a fraud, I steal words from the silence of the night or the drumming of tires on the road, nothing I've ever said hasn't already been said before and by someone who hasn't said it much better.  By those that have dedicate their eduction and blood and heart to the craft.  I'm nothing more than an echo of the parrots that came before me and I have never claimed to be anything  I am not.  None the less, my words are honest and my intentions are of pure heart.  I have lived a good life, full of mistakes, regrets, failures, success, love, loss, love again, loss again, I drank enough for three lifetimes in just over a decade, among other activities of those who prefer the night... I've wooed a few or more pretty faces while shaking my money maker night after night after night, how I once loved to dance...
Life has slowed since then...  My heart grown wiser and stronger from the friends that I have been lucky enough to connect with through my reckless young adult life and current much tamer days... And of course theirs my son, who I knew I owed the same good influence my father was to me.  He has made fatherhood easy.  He never had a terrible year, not at 2, 3, 4... ever... always just good, mellow, never threw a fit when hearing the word no... I've never had to treat him like a kid, he has always just been a little person.  Too smart and too wise for his age... I once asked him what he would do if he won 8 hundred million dollars, without hesitation he answered, "I would give it to St. Judes Hospital and sick kids and hungry people and homeless people...".  So I asked if he would keep any of it and he thought for a second and replied, "Maybe $50... because nobody needs that much money dad!"  There are more stories... but all good parents have their endless tales to spin.  We are all proud of our fastest little swimmers.  And isn't that the odd little link we all share... we were all at one time in life the fastest little swimmer.  It's the little things that make it all worth the useless heaps of bs life throws at us.   Duck and roll and take a bath whenever your not quick enough.  Stand in the steam and warmth of the water and when your nice and squeeky clean, be brave for a minute and turn off the hot water and let the water turn ice cold and breath deep until you can't take it.  You won't regret it.. it's a little moment... Wait... I can't remember why I started to write this... well you know, the autumn years of life... Its been a good life this far, I've done more good than bad... I don't fear the judgment of any god that may or may not exist, so I'm sure not going to fear the judgment of my fellow man. So enemy or friend, choose your label if you must, peace, love, and happiness to all.

Hatred seeping
Out in plain sight
From followers
Of presidential
Hopefulls
And men
Of law
And politics
Trying to protect
Murders and
Spawns of
Predators and
******
Over the
Hearts and
Lives of
The
Women
Who have
Done nothing
Other than
Existing
Stupidity
Dripping from
Their foaming
Mouths
Pretending
It's to
Protect
Religion
But what
Hate filled
God
Could ever
Excuse
Their actions?
Who can
Save us
Now
That we've
Showed
Our ugly
Truth
Gathered
In the
Streets
Putrid hearts
And
Blood and bones
Deadly fists
Of judgment
Time and space
Such
Dreadful waste
Please
Tell me
I'm not
Human

It's true I am pathatic
I am cursed for the worst
Of writing again and again
Nothing but the
Most horrible verse
No stanzas or prose
Of worth or pride
No willing words
Written in my hand
May ever shine
Oh I'm doomed
With no metaphors
Or scale
Again and again
To fail and fail  
And my flesh and
My bones
Rejected my both
Monster and worm
I was scratched
By the shadow
Of the moon
Long ago
I read every word
And remembered
Every line
Not an image
Within I could ever
Forget
And like the werewolf
Who howls
I picked up a pen
And I failed
And failed
As I tried to
Write about love
And the moon
I haven't gotten
Any better
I fear it's much worse
I have the curse
Of writting
Nothing but
The most horrible verse

Crickets and toads
In full chorus
And boisterous voice
Night has spread its wings
And claimed the sky
The man in the moon
Streches his limbs
Reaches into his satchel
And by handfuls
Tosses stars and sands
Of dream
Stars steak and make wishes
Sand falls and gives itself to death
And dream gives this endless sleep
Where forevers flower blooms
And my heart burns
With fire and flame
Eternaly dancing
For love
And
For you

Indulge in love
Relish in lust
As one gives
Flame
The other gives
Fire
Be gentle
Be strong
Be kind
Be passion
Inhale
Exhale
Hold your breath
Give into your death
Lust after love
Love after lust
Kiss the heart
Of your lover
Love the skin
Of their kiss
Know the secrets
Of sin below
Stars and sheets
Whisper them between
Ear and thigh
Come to the bottom
Only after
Climbing over the top
Give always more
Than you take
Backs should arche
But never break
Share the music
Of your pulse
And the shadows
Of your marrow
Swim in the dark
Be blinded by light
Sin for love
Pray for lust

He paints poems on her heart
She poses for him with naked truth
And the secret colors of lunacy and madness
Spill forth onto page and canvass
By brush and by breath
His thick paint of love and life
Explodes and streaks
And pours and gushes out
It saturates and soaks her heart and skin
And moves and flows
To the rythm of her pulse
Mixing in her vivacity and blood
Creating a palette and light
Only mad lovers can feel and see
It leads their feet
To honeys blood from
Pots of golden love
Where their bodies swim
In Amsterdam decadence
And Paris pleasure
Their hearts walls rich
With paintings of love
And everday
He picks up brush
And takes deep breath
As he watches her undress
Until she is nothing more
Than beautiful and true
And with soft and gently strokes
He brushes over scars and tears
And over her soul and marrow
As he paints another
Poem on her heart

The crumbling of paper
The burning of ink
The breaking of hearts

Tear tear tear
That love letter apart

Silence is golden
No word
And no prayer

Tear tear tear
That love letter apart

Don't say it again
And again and again
Its going to wear thin
Don't let them see
The tears on your chin

Tear tear tear
That love letter apart
Before it begins

...

But my hands won't listen
And my heart doesn't mind the breaking
And my soul likes writing
With burning ink best
This love won't crumble
This paper can't tear
I can't stop dreaming
Of what I'm feeling
Every time I put
Pen to paper
To write
That love letter
That no hand or fate
Could
Tear tear tear
Apart
And I just have to say it
From the highest mountain
And deepest seas
From above the clouds
And off the wings of birds
From the songs of heaven
And the seductions of hell
I have to say it again and again
Because its the only
Truth that I have
And truth that I know
I'll say it with my last
Dying breath
And say it again
From my ghostly dust
I'll say it forever
And forevermore

...

*I Love You

Yea... it hurts sometimes
Yea..  it even makes me miserable sometimes
Don't worry about that

Because thats love
Even at its best
Its always going to hurt
And make us miserable

From time to time

When we're miles apart
Or sleeping in the same bed

Love is so good sometimes
That it makes us sick
Until our chest hurts
And our souls are miserable
And thats when we know
We have love
At its very best

So when I'm hurt and miserable
From thinking
And longing
And dreaming
About you
Its only because
I have found love
*Love at its very best

I walked outside
And the moon was
Smiling in the sky
And I think
I know why
It must have seen you
And those
Endless ocean eyes

Its just one of those nights
Where I just want to listen to the Pouges
And cry for an hour or two
Or the rest of my life
But hey
P.S.
*I love you

People die so young now
Leaving their bodies to still walk around
Their hearts choking on dust instead of pumping blood
Their eyes faded of all color except for the grey of the day to day
Selling their souls for the comfortable numb
No pain in their cookie cutter homes
Debt in their banks and death in their marrow
No love, no kindness, all given into the masses of blindness
Painted smiles over rotting teeth
Happiness a ghost and a lie
Nothing more than a comercial on a broken dream
Marching in circles to keep the gears spinning around
War and Hate building machine after machine
Religion blaming the devil while ignoring its own festering heart
Evil wasnt forged by the fires of hell
But invented in the hearts of man
Ingraved on every bullet and bomb and false reason of war
Generals and Kings all part of the lie
Someone has to carry the burden
Of dreaming up new ways
For young people to die

In all my lonely rage
  I dreamed myslf alive
But I was still alone
So I dreamed a thousand dreams
  And they dreamed a thousand more
And their dreams gave birth to death
And death gave birth to life
And life gave birth to love
And love gave birth to blood
And blood gave birth to war
And war gave birth to man
And man was the first disease
  We ever found in dreams
So the dreams and I went back to sleep
  And we slept a thousand years
  And we will sleep withou a single dream
  Until this disease has died away
And we have learned to never
  Dream of man
    And mans
      Terrible ways