Somedays this whole
that I don't feel
is like a hole
that needs filling.
An empty space
that won't let go.
Another place I find
myself in that's growing old.
But that's the highway
talking, because
if I was a walking
man I would have gone
home a long time ago.

The stars are magnificent tonight. The streetlights seem ghostly.   It is a cool night.  And I hear the owls. I write as I walk. Listening to random songs.  All of you whom are reading this are walking with me also. It could be around your block. Or in your yard. It could be outside somewhere or in your mind.  My two dogs walk beside me.  Black specs in the moonlight. Who else is walking with us?  I would like for you to tell me.

Out on the breakers
Eyes in the sea are watching me
But seals never speak

The sea birds are gulling
Always they argue over shells
I know how they feel

Long across the heath
The piebald mountains cradle me
But snows, they only whisper

The stationary stone village
Is thatched in chalk and grey wood
Happy in branch without trees

.
The tender Willow leaves whoosh softly
                              with the fickle cherry blossom breeze

Painting the colour
                              these inevitable days ,
                              the fragrant scent
                                                      o­f springtide

No longer holding back
                              the dreams from deep in a heart
                                                               w­axing gibbous ,

the unopined moon
                              rose up over an unwritten poem

painting hues with words
                              shaping the shadows of its song
                              into a musically dappled tableau

stroked by the tickle of poignant whispers

                              waft from the veritable roguish winter nadir
                                              ― a latent and longing heart


         ― beneath
                              a sky full of stars
                                      
                 ­                                        ✩ ✩ ☼ ✩ ✩
                                                     *wild is the wind

Star glass and light.  Emotion engine, dream machine. This is my Lightcycle!  With just thought I can catapult myself across the galaxy!  I remember home and the fields of blue bonnets and Indian paint brushes.  I remember looking up at the stars from Earth.  Wishing to one day see them.  But nothing is more beautiful than that blue star from afar. Earth shines and sings sapphire among the blackness we call space.   But as I enter my solar system I no longer see her.  I quickly thought stream home and find my planet is covered in a sick gray shadowy nebula.   Something is here and is trying to take away all the souls of the Earth!  I try and break through with my Lightcycle!  The star shell fills with my anger and despair!  Reds and tornados made of light dance within my Lightcycle! But to no avail the nebula seems to counter act my will!  I close my eyes as tears flow.  My lightcycle cries colors on the inside.  As I open my eyes I see a cloud within my lightcycle that is made of all colors!  It then clears as I see the harp with light strings the Dragon Secalos gave to me.  This was the dragon I escorted across the galaxy!  The harp then materialized in my hands and I played the melody of the star serpent!  I cannot begin to describe the melody to you.  It was like my dreams were playing for me.  From afar I could see a blue star growing and growing.  Only it was no blue star at all! It was the dragon Secalos!  He was even more massive than before. His wings shined Star Earth blue.  He must of been the size of our moon.  He looked to me with glowing blue eyes!  He spoke to me with his mind.   "  I will help you in thy darkest hour as you helped me."   The dragon then flew toward our sun and completely back in an instant. He then emitted a beam of light that was all colors toward the dark gray nebula.  The dark grey nebula filled with colors and seem to almost dissipate.  The beautiful majestic Earth seem to almost smile back at me. " Thank you serpent of the stars!" " Thank you rider of light. "

On starlight road.
Blue neon star sign blinks.
On my way out of this world.
Off a cliff and slingshot past the moon.

On the other side of the twilight.
I meet with you.
We walk the bridge of shadows.
Over the river of light.

Tomorrow songs.
Played on yesterday's light strings.
Lyrics of time.
And melodies of dreams.

I had travelled in anger in one direction for the past 5 trillion light years.
And now I am outside among this endless void.
This universe is a planet.
Inside of another and outside of yours.
We are just part of a memory.
The memory that belongs to this child.
A brain cell within this child's mind.
But as I left it behind I notice my universe begin to fade away.
Until there is nothing left.
I must make him remember.
I must find another universe!

Gasping for fresh air
Standing on your tippy toes
In a sea of books

I avoid ppl
I've been
Officially broken
Now I have to
Rebuild myself
At home

how might my reality be redefined
by slipping furtively
like a hapless lover
disentangling midnight sheets
fleeing past pathways of my own psyche
to see the view from her mind’s balcony

to inhabit intergalactic eyes
sparkling and shining like supernovae
every time she parts scarlet lips
in defense of the helpless

i'd plant gardens inside her irises
water the seeds and invite the bees
to pollinate fresh thoughts and rejuvenate
an energy that could illuminate new theories
about the cosmos and its inhabitants

i want to dwell within
corridors of infinite imagination  
bridge the synaptic gaps
across rivers of lapsing memories
a lackadaisical adventurer
adrift in neurological galaxies
ingesting erudite insight

i yearn to build a home
inside the mind
of a poet
an activist
and a bona fide genius

All that is not light
Sketches shadows:
The secrets within them,
Pleasurable vices.

Into the darkness
With its stealthy silence:
Woman of the black veils,
The thief in the night,
The murmur of the stray.

All that is light
Flees from the shadows:
The list in the *****,
The fire in the passion,
The fragrance of foreign flesh.

The nocturnal man
Seeks the midnight touch:
All that is desire
Anointed on my body,
The taste of her skin.

And the dreams
Of men happen in bliss:
The scar of the lover,
The crevices of her body,
The feverish pace of lust.

Everything that is dark
Flows in the shadows:
My light is the night,
The stars a guide,
The death of my desires,
The kiss of the veil upon my lips.