Sometimes after I've been sitting with her a while,
I swear she calls to me.
I am sprung off of her obscene beauty,
under the influence of her grandiose blues.
The crush of her might upon the anchored
cascades into the mist of syllables,
Her fawning noblemen hold their waivering arms out beckoning me.
She roars with tumultuous lust;
she for I, and I for her.
I don't know how much longer I can resist her request
that I fling myself from this loose soil
into her rapturous grasp
and allow her to envelope what remains.

====(==O==== )

I saw an old soldier at the nursing home today.
He was sitting in a wheelchair, slowly making his way down the hall to play bingo.
Judging by his age and the tattoos on his arms he had been in WW2.
This was not a frail man, he still had some muscle tone in his arms.
And as he gently put his hands on the wheels, he looked up at me as I walked by.
I saw in his face, the face of a soldier determined to climb that last hill into battle.

###====(==O==== )

My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps
through my reading and writing in bed,
the half-whispered lines,
manuscripts piled between us,

but in the deep part of night
when her beeper sounds
she bolts awake to return the page
of a patient afraid he'll **** himself.

She sits in her robe in the kitchen,
listening to the anguished voice
on the phone. She becomes
the vessel that contains his fear,

someone he can trust to tell
things I would tell to a poem.

I will fight the frigid frost,
to find what I have lost.
I will weather any storm,
my heart beat, strong and warm.

I will fight another day,
I will find another way,
to see you.

I will walk across the land,
just to hold your hand.
I will battle sweltering heat,
to feel your heart beat.

I will fight another day,
I will find another way,
to see you.

And when I finally reach you,
if I ever do,
the skies will open up,
and it will rain love.

And when I finally hold you,
in my arms,
I will show you the love,
I have been saving for you all along.

I'm fifty feet old
Two tons tall
Fit as a cranberry
Ripe as a waterfall
Size July cheeks
Marbles for feet
Gallons of tulips
Dance when I eat
Candlelight ****
And promises art
Crush the whispering hesitant part
Of a borrowed porcelein heart
And yes it was something you said
So out of my bed
Mind your head

Am I really

Am I really the one that you may possibly

love

or is it my imagination

It feels like it

with every taste of your lips

and every touch of your skin

It feels

I feel

And I can't decide if this is reality

or a dream world

until I sit up in bed

stripes of dawn sift through the grey departing night,
and in my home, behind those rays of dust,
furniture warms.
the freedom i love will soon be claimed by an incessant morning phone.
my heart numbs, longs for the kindness, constant kindness of the night

the music of my pulse already starts to fade,
a weight sets in, invisible grimace of so many trailing thoughts unraveled now,
to bear until the darkness-swilling reach of soul can span again...

would i fly at brightened glass in fractured urges,
bolstered yet adrift in any day's torrential memes?
rage at seeming machination's constant interruption of my highest rarity of living well?
or smile at the herdlike expectation's threat to condescend,
and at least scour remnants of the search undone... throughout the day
insufferable choice of final future origins
the mail arrives,
my forehead stops to wonder at the door,
and at that pang of hunger

running, overrun, the mind churns night in such sweet shadow shifts!
to fall, legless and dissolve into the rising light..
as if a Noh play were being heckled through to end by gaudy ads
to jolt us bridgeless from that subtle world
and wander long on lethe banks of noisome blare.
at times i stroll this nowhere stranding here, pretend, and gaze from hiding,
between a wincing coffee swill
imagined easeful face of signs,
"easy as a gentle summer wind..."
tolerant to all, to blow a "selfless" stillness into me
to wave, and smile --breathe a blanket on acuter truths
with which i meet the day enwrapped.

but quietly  i wait... for Time to die:
an hourglass to shatter in the instant of eternity!
and birthe anew each 3 am, create anew--
those  kisses,  frozen  birds  of  static  bliss  become
a moulded wax to shape the plenum love as roaming peace,
darkness-rest to calm a pointless labor,
abate the drift into an unwalled corner's only inward exit--
as whisper hands can cradle nescience
such, that grains become a world,
in which invented seas are sweeter than the toxic real
whose bitterness a cherishing of death unveils awry,
or right as winter dust.
i yearn in flight and add to fullness,
find fullness once again
to hover equipoised at love's encrusted center,
where pain gives way to peace i cannot have.
if i would have this other 'purest' love,
and for instance find the meaning once again in wartime's bated negligence--
as in a perfect silence wind can brush the lips with all of life's aroma--
and as a gentle fire smouldered long,
at Spring, ignites within the splay of tender leaves--
so archetypal solitude of being beings manifolded one, i may fulfillment find...

i may go find myself alone now,
or swagger to an ancient drinking song,
or fall into those evening arms,
to find abated also, idols of the heart in each
for what the greater heart amends...
all for yearning better worlds
the pain has sent me reeling prone--
curling at complacent murmurs,
coos of love to torment all without
wherein i wallow, fallen from all heights,
absurd escape, removed---surrounded still
by so-called metalove, abject phantasmal swoon
i grit my teeth against,
as heaving sand would send the shore to sea and drown nostalgia evermore,
as only total extrication serves to quell an everpresence such as this,
ringing in the twilit dew,
or starlight whirl--
or inverse in a heedless curse--
horizons cease in this expanse
surging at the birth and death of things

She had seen him there
At the party
Dark eyes watching her
From the corner
As she danced

He had not been there
When she left
Dark skies blanketed her
And stars lit the way
As she began her walk home

She had not taken this path before
To get home
A glowing field allured her
With nearly fluorescent flowers
So she took this shortcut

He had seen her approaching
Full of new memories
Then stopping
Hesitating to make the decision
To go left through the field

She had soon felt him
Among the treacherous flowers
His dark presence in the wind
His words soon blended in
As he moved in closer

He had not lingered
To see her awaken
On the grass outside the field
Red mixed in yellow
**** seed dust