The Ghost I loved but not to be.
Who gave her heart but not to me.

The pieces of my memory lost .
To get them back but what the cost?

One wish of the hands that hold all fate,
one wish before the pearly gates.

That I once more lay my head on her breast.  
And hear the rhythm of her chest.

I followed you to lay on Bajan sand.
To kiss again and again under a dying sun.

Our seeds of passion were soaked in ***
So hastily devoured over our Boardwalk Dim Sum

Anyone there write poems anymore.
Is picking up a pen a thing of lore?
Are there star accountants counting at night?
Dictating under a moon too bright.

Hands hovering  under a dim light,
Pencils swaying like a rod for a bite.
No audience pulling on your string of words with polite
No mountain of phrases on landscape of white


I know these thoughts a bit,
my own private hell.
But more horrifying than this
Is no ink in the well

If Love had a flashing stop sign
I wouldn't fall into "Your mine"

If Love had "J" barriers across hearts.  
No more colliding breaking into parts

If Love didn't have the hair pin turns.
Maybe I'd  enjoy the view of the ferns.

I pull over in life's layby to think.
Without  it life's trip would be boring and I wink.

I put my indicator on to turn
Back into the confusion I never learn.

I followed you to lay on Bajan sand.
You only follow me on instagram.

We soaked like seeds in *** and season.
You laughed at my stale jokes without reason.

My hands combed your wet silky hair,
You kept the keys to our secret lair.

But i will always remember Barbados

The rythimic beat of your heart in its treasure of your chest.
Thrills my ears from above the cloth covering your breast.
It beats like a military drum,
Bidding me to come,

Come hither as you shiver,
From the cold outside  wet as rain.
My lips ache with pain
While they unwillingly  refrain ,
From uttering the words that betray my mind.

Describing how i wish you supine.
How angelic and devine,
As before me you lay ,
Spread like a bountiful buffet
Delicious your eyes that stoic gaze on me

For this is the finality of our daily mating dance.
The promises of chance.
A battle of wit reduced to who will submit
So as i crave your fingertip.
You have my senses stripped, down to bare essentials.
My eyes devour your credentials

Our battle lines are drawn,
the  columns of our arguments swarm,

You cross the line drawn in the sand,
I drew it again but on your land.

Your secret weapon is a force I know
your eyes then spark and your rosy cheeks glow

That's when I felt the attack of your smile
which decimates my whole emotional empire.

I surrender, my empire crumbles