I'll be the Harley Quinn
To your Joker gender bend

I am a little shadow creeping in the night
I am the one to take away light
When you hear me clawing at your bedroom door
Your heart will be mine forever more

Okay, Cupid, tell me true-
The hell'd I ever do to you?
You flap about, your bowstring drawn
Aiming just to lead me on.

"Oh, she's the one!" You always say,
And with a 'thwip', arrows away!
And when it hits, right in my heart,
Proceeds to tear the world apart.

And then you just flutter away,
No doubt thinking "good job, today!"
But Cupid, sir, you fail to tell
That my poor heart is in for hell.

Now, love is grand, don't get me wrong,
But never seems to last for long.
Those arrows you're so fond to fire
Are sometimes too quick to expire.

So, Cupid, mate, step up your game,
Or redirect your blasted aim.
If love is such a complex trick,
Don't shoot at me you little *****!

I have this vague vision of tangerines bleeding
into blue green skies.
Or maybe cat puke melding with the emerald
carpet beneath my feet.
Some sort of merging, colors, textures, clear and
pristine but elusive.
I have no idea what I'm going on about but I
know it is important.

.

Skiing on snow
that is made out of pepper
Dodging and weaving
though there are no trees
Taking a turn
that is straight as an arrow
Hitting the ground
always causes a sneeze
Feeling the cold
even though it is summer
Sliding much faster
than what I had thought
Nearing the bottom
where dinner is waiting
I’ve got the snow,
can you pass me the salt

please

Tangerine sunsets of skies that weep
Tenderly lulling souls to sleep.
Hazing memories fade softly away
As twilight ends the course of day.

Temptations lose their wielding power
As the last drops of sand close the hour.
Salvation pleas lost in air
From pleading voices in despair.

Like painted pictures changing hue,
Life alters state too cold, cold blue.
To recreate its form first knew
And return to earth, vained residue.

As curtains rise on death's first show,
To bask in life's after-glow,
Cries and curses cut the air
With yearning hearts in earnest prayer.

Then placed in waiting eternal beds
To rest among familiar heads.
Where whales of longing slowly cease
And tired souls find Crimson peace.

Before that Final day
dictates the Sounds & Furies
as All as eye
for you by you
the minutia dress of un-success
dross and bullets
butterfly wings beautiful
garbage
gots to sho-fo...

Before the infinite space eyes
scrutinize
on that final day
beyond spatial searching
for good graces
like light being recognized
love on all faces

on that last day having failed
our Mother's womb
this fine fine fortress of a home
evergreen--sea--sky--blue
if Absolute were upon us
curtains and swan songs
for Georges and Gorgeous dreams
this beautiful jetsam
garbage heap
from Rosetta ashes
with form from crushed cosmic soups

a stone
spinning kaleidoscope
at most, spheres
with tearful fears
bewilderment cheers
heavenly lungs vying
all of us here impatiently dying
everyday with the sun

Wait for the Father's love
to once again save us
before the infinite
upheaval...

Upon piles and piles of off-putting
garbage heaps
a child is picking up things
anything of value
something of sustenance
lessons of happenstance

And Low! It is not good...
All are our children - being denied food & mirth
But what is a song to a diminished bird?
no cage more cruel than loss of life's worth
the tossed away

little tiny
shavings from the noble
mettle from Excalibur's dross
diamonds glittering nightime gowns
picking up trash in prestine dresses?
babies precious lumps of coal
with little value
but our future blessed...

In the heart's sacred berths
Love upholds
Life more than gold...

Because... Day oh!         Mi za Day - oh!
Daylight has come..."

(Home = Priceless)

You had me at chocolate
then you didn't stop
Baked to perfection
slightly golden brown
and balanced to a
soft & crisp touch
I need you to be warm
with milk chocolate
oozing
on my finger tips
Not to thin as you can
be lost in my
ice cold glass of milk
For me, no equal
exists to you
By the dozen
I consume you
without reservation
to my diet
Shaped to any form
or on a stick
you complete me.

Gaelic moon
mirror image
reflected
in
the
eyes of the raven

Its nice to say
To write and be read
To speak and be heard
Its nice-so nice
The clouds are nice
Shapeless changing shades of wispy warping away
And you can see in them
A face
An animal
Something that can't be held
So many clouds
To cover out the sun
The sun is dying
Spending all internal energy
To shine any sort of light into your life
Its nice-that no one notices
Because lightbulbs have a switch
And the sun is going to set
Many times
And it takes me with it
Its nice-so nice
That while the sun dies to bring you light
You'd rather stare into the clouds