Crystalline shards, we are what we choose to be..
                                                            ­                            .
                                   ­                                                   .      .
     ­                                                                 ­               f     .                                                                ­                      
                                                                ­                        .   r
                                                               ­                    .   a      .
                                                                ­                           g .
                                                               ­                         m
                                      ­                                               .         e .
                                                               ­                   .  n        t    
                                                                ­                        s  .
                                    ­                                                       .
                                                               ­                       .
                                        ­                                                    .
           ­                                                                 ­        .         .
                                                               ­                           .
                                    ­                                                 .
                                                                ­                         .
                                                               ­                       .I'll  .
                                                        ­                        end up in      .
                                                       ­                     crumpled heap
                                                                ­     .  .   at my own feet.. ..

they fall into slumbers
under mossy lumber
as we walk with the sun
when the moon bounces on hills
and the wheels slow down on mills
that's when they stretch their limbs
on cobble stone roads
and homes owned by groaning toads
they paint the fresh prints of tomorrows
so when we rise
in  misty morning tides
we will have a new place to go
but  who are these  things
the ones with paper mache'  wings
that glide for us in the night?
could they be malice
the one who pushes Alice
down into the wonderlands of our mind
or are they that saints
marching with golden shaded paints
to color our paths of divine
no one will know
for they mingle with just the crows
to us
they are simply the silent ones.

Tell me about the day our hip bones
said hello.

Your eyebrows curved
like cupped hands,
how that was more than I’d expected,
how the hope bleeding through your fingers
stained my temples when you touched them.

You believe and it makes me want
to build you a skylight,
sunk in the rafters like a baby tooth
peering shyly from dark gums,

my heart is a broken down *****
but you play it just right.

You’ve got the body of a musician and
there’s something beautiful about your
skeleton being on display,
your shoulders are blades
and they cut right through me.  

I was a safety deposit box,
holding things that were not mine.
I was springtime in New England,
all baited anticipation and lasting chill.

You are an Arizona rainstorm.
You are moisture in the desert, thunder in the silence,
utterly unprecedented warmth.

I have been many things, but never once
enough.

Sometimes I see him in the afternoon
He likes to wonder around the garden
Round and round he goes sniffing the ground around him
Eats almost every insect and leaf in sight
W**aits around a little longer and moves on at the slightest fright

You don't much like me visits there
But scarce do you lament
For, I bring you home the finest cuts
To sizzle in the pan.....

The lovely ladies behind the counter there
One grin vies to meet me, all doe-eyed
If you knew she had a one-tooth denture
I guess you'd smirk away, ungreen ....

But I get the chops I want to eat
Nicely packed pink; no seeping blood
And succulent steaks indulged on me
Saucy supervisor slips me secret smiles.....

Hot and heavy glances jet my way
By sly lady-workers in the back row
When you turn your skeptic back
Regarded by none, but cautious me......

Cute cashier rises on fleshy thighs
Slow she sits; lets her skirt ride high
She eyes me hooded, lashes long
Then, downcast when you join me.....

Can feel the electric tingle from her touch
As I fumble redly, to pay the coins
Deliberate counting, her scent assails
Her hungry heartbeat..... oozing charm.....

But, for all the alluring looks and promising smiles
There's you, my love..... to grill my viands
And hardly home, I fall on you...famished;
Devour every morsel, shred and piece of you!



Star Toucher, 27 March 2013

Every ridiculous thing I did
every time I flipped my lid
Every crime I vainly hid
Who needs a mirror when you've a kid?

The ten percent I'd like to see
and every other part of me
Not what I say but what I do,
Who needs a mirror when I've got you?

Birds singing
in the dark
—Rainy dawn.

They say you wish upon a star...
But, darling, how do I know there’s a star for me?
Or for you?
You see, there are just so many stars
so many people
so many wishes, darling,
How do I know which one is for us?

I know that,
if I had a wish,
I would wish not for a big house
nor money
nor the ability to fly,

but

I would wish for
your happiness, darling,
Because that’s all I really want.

But,

if there isn’t a star for us,
I ask for your heart, darling,
Because then, I can nurture you
love you
make you happy,

And then,

With your heart and your happiness,
I won’t need a star to wish upon.

Because you, darling,
you will be my star.

And broad Heaven’s stars will smile down on us below:
Our Own Heaven reflected in their eyes
while your eyes will shine more brightly than all of them:
We are Forever, darling.