One of few
words that has no other definition
but itself both
written and referenced

with many synonyms similar
a muse universal and familiar
adds shade for heated
hearts all quite red

like a rose
it is it's own unique beauty,
long stemmed
Love
it is nothing but...

everything.

not Lust or Covet, for they are too brazen
and carnal with their hunger
unlike Love, which fills the need
steadily--in time, relieving the craving,
leaving contentment
then feeding others without requirement
of payment...


not Adoration or Crush
because they are still children
without the understanding
or compacity for self-sacrifice
which Love is familiar to
like years unconditional
this trust is a marriage between
naïve and wise...


not Passion or zealous Desire,
due to their one-sided tunnel vision
without compromise or sway,
almost indifferent to all else
but the prize at the end;
for Love has it's eyes in everyday
at all times in your corner


not Like or Fondness, for they are weak
in emotional life,
half devoted and half way gone
waiting for the other
to finish a simple thought
indifference is not a line to cross;
because Love cares for both
itself and yours and all the other,
"love thy neighbor as thy brother"

love is willing to carry the weight
always keen to always wait
no matter how long
or how late...


It is so wonderfully loyal
Love is
that it is at often times motivated
by a blindness for only it's devotion;

but true Love
does not worship
and sometimes must let go
to preserve it's integrity,

for if it is real
it will return with more fuel for the fire
to light the warmth of our hearth
higher...


Love commits fully
even unto death, whether star-crossed
or over time's deepening breath,
it is defined by each
and all
it's own victory and story...


Still,
one of the most difficult things is
to fall in Love
and never understand it

but you know it
like a lullaby from infancy

she whispers to you

do not fear

Love is always
here.

he craves online hook-ups.


But this isn't me
nor am I that intrepid        
a torrent trampoline
                   on wireless ether engines
                   cyber silver surfin'
zone on / in  .nets & .coms
                   searching fiber-optics for sight
browsing rooms of M4M / in-fantasized delights

an itch to fix
to sit transfixed
as if
subliminally attached
                           umbilically
digitally digitized digi-man
                            to a electronic felatio soundtrack

yet all the while detached
                            lurking duplicitly
reading pretend profiles  explicitly
for ***, sexified mind
dreaming up new fetishes
with misspelled texts
                        tandem testimonials as if written
                        by a Compaq-machine-head
                        Microsoftened lust
currents electric now as we turn into dust
with iBooks & faraway Dells on our laps
scrolling lists for Adams
status' with "anything goes"
                        remonstrating our vicious cycle
alive & blank with un/trust
gone viral...

this isn't me.

where is the warmth
       of feelings, emotions,
malleable and infallible / love??

I am not as talented
as he
          to be in two places at once,
but he
          has the many faces
and genius of multiple personalities
Cybil
facets
   of sabotage with Mommy Dearest grace.
        Beautiful strangers his acquired
              taste...

he says it was not him
(doing ****)

my rage has only one trait.
two eyes                              (once wide asleep in the lies)
and velvet-rope-burned
wrists
my feet learn to fly
my heart un-breaks
my wings reanimate...


he has too many faces
doppleganger hatred
none to care for or embrace

When did I go blind,
         and leave my many strengths?
Where do I now
again
begin??

(The rubble or the sin?)


Every night adieu
Every day anew
                                        once again...

I grew up here...

Then moved to Sin City that sophomore year
afterwards a whole new world
Navy at 19 returning to the pier...

fresh meat they use to say
graduate of the great lakes boot heels

that's history - here now a days new to me -
reacquaint with youth and city

~~~~~~~

Beach city by the cool sea
not so easy  city
not too busy, too ******, or greasy city,
to take your shirt off
to feel the breezy - city (i am)
curiously lost
exciteably exploring you
engorged
hard city  
different from my boyhood
memory
not so scary-big - city
with beaches
a great place to grow-up
kind of city

open bike rides on my schwinn
safely happy
suburb city

she's maturity now successfully
downtown
sophisticated city
evolved from understanding
rainbow
city of girls who can be
as manly and boys are as
pretty, gritty
city
of individuality

(like a quirky
cousin, *****, brotha, neice
with Cali.-valley speak! - city)

there's so much i want to see,
learn and believe in
this city,
i am a long lost twin city
just a baby,
friendly city, ******* your full *****
city
care for me daily

wish me luck a lotto city
even in my muck and ****** bitties
unconditionally cradling me with love
this city...

californicating sea world and zoos
old town wanderlust
You're in my blood and Carmen
cool city
this city by the beach
This city
that I love...

Moan.
      Y a w n.
Purr.

How I adore our meanderings.
Mornings of misfit nomads
waking to the sturdy fur of you,
     pecks, abs, inner thigh
unclad
body heat...

The world outside feels absent,
your hardness
your breath
presently
itching against yesterday's 5-o'clock
     shadow...

We breakfast on such sensations
     satin thousand threads
sifting in grips of sheets
          creating
    silken dunes of flesh creamy hues
soft mounds from our twist
                tied
tethered limbs
then opening passages with kisses
     and humid licks
our lips:
camelback & cobra songs
to Sahara

           Heatwave

where we worship obelisks
until slumber
has rendered us
              stardust and sphinx
mused and fused - our flesh again
in hymns
     this Sunday morning...

Less stealth of night but copious
is touch
         slithering undulations
         of parched needs
for us to swim in the hunger of its seas

Since sensing sensual stiffness
     your shifting
            your shaft
my blood collects
    to tighten what is mine within

When this grabs hold of us
like the blinding noon
we forgive
           that it is Sunday
mourn that I thirst for you.


Such thickets of urges
   juicy sweet confection / completion's
masculine deprevation
         half grin half flurry,
                     No worry
displacing thoughts of infection
secure in our relations...

Stretching with both my hands
behind me
        gripping with claws of the passionate
buttocks raised (waiting for rain)
as if to be seen & named
      by the gods' - creative breath and shame
           I yearn for your embrace
Heaven forgive me
for the heaven he gives me...

Affirmed
as though we were the firmaments
      sky without permission (or air rights)
to fly
comely
and in our rhythmic trance

we become Spartans
(with our war cry)
         Driven
                 Breathing
One defeat
          Shriven as we're falling
One choice to leap.

                          Exhale Olympus
Fallen pillars' hush.

Good morning, Love
   a taste of how Nirvana feels

constellations and the heavenly
wheel.

Stretching.
Eyes open to take in my world.
         Stretching

Behind
Reaching for you

if just briefly knowing the whole truth...

Here we lay flowers
where we bury our loved ones
close our eyes in prayer.

If heaven is Up,
and night sky so full of stars,
I will awe instead;

Wonder which one shines,
how bright the life that was you?
A floating lantern

With a lotus flame
Lift up in memory of
Amaranthine you.

Vegas heats up in these idle lungs
Summer weekends begin their urges / a dirge
like a roar of blood in the ears, no anticipation dwells so
not even those addictions we've reasoned to be just
or justified as youthful relief...

I sit as still as the neon blinking through drab curtains
can allow / without obsessing into a tick / a nervous twitch
The lumps on this bed, like ghosts
from forgotten trysts, seem to jab / to escape /
even when sleep attempts to drain itself from the body
due to the lack of it.

It smells vaguely familiar of 2000 flushes
and ashtrays with liquor stains
hurled from mouths overfed with parties and past
indiscretions / guilt / scattered
on the carpet, and in the corner
reminds me of our foolish frivolity / heavy with loss

hope, laughter / shapes and shadows
in that corner where you vomited
while tears and self realizations of mistakes
chuckle at the face of its absurd truths,
followed by a blank stare...

Your face in its tracks of saline depths
like a painting of twilight rites of passage
which we had to burden in bewitching hours
before the sun / sobering with early light
those times we diluted and ache for still

As I recollect in the hush of a motel 8
drunken neighbors with their sounds of *** / taboo /
echoes our lost twenties
learning to live by fine emotions - secret messages
from inner devils and Mormon Jesus

washing over us / growing up, by latter saints
losing days to nights / so doubtful and wretchedly alive
in the uncertainty of our pages yet to turn
searching for sage & celebration./
losing our true selves with every high...

I sit in this motel room
wretchedly alive / in and out of neon lights
trying to find a good emotion / some worth
staring at the corner shadows of you / vomiting
messages that I only now dematerialize
from sobs lost to the echoes

laughter still to tweet or fly / to the cloud
to oblivion and memory's burrow
I sit in the heat / still unfeeling / now
before dawn, the hours hollow
many a people inside / out there in this city

Still wretchedly in denial
not one will bother me to pity
a life like a motel room
by the hour / we abide by its tune

the hollow breathing of time
the real currency / their ivory tower.
my heaven seems malnourished without
looming over / where's the wonder?

In the distance, far from home,
I sense the arrival of falling skies
Father's angry thunder
even in the false safety of dark rooms,
while we hide
we all will shudder...


(It is not a home if lived in alone
and death occupies both my shoulders)

It's not easy speak
or a Speak Easy
when conversing with him,
dark'ling gremlin toothless grin
but he's your friend so I carry on
with Yoda in the corner of my mind
"judgmental you must be not"
and Comicon's collective excitement fading
as the light will do in the west...

We speak easy with the circling
of the communal pipe
crystal peace in mists of glass orbs
oil burner fog horns
piercingly in & between my ears
but its not so easy to ignore
the scent of death in his halitosis

We spoke of Superheroes
their idiosyncratic identities
His secret celebrity crushes  
envying Green Lantern’s ring finger
he speculates on Cyclop's orientation,

"Y don’t you make me an X man, professor?"

Informatively encyclopedic volubility,
Mike speaks queerly and toofless
yet well versed on oral
said he rims pacific beach boys
(And I can smell the white lies
wafting from his mouth)
as I color at his studly fairy tales
and his idolatry of prepubescent innocence
the hyper kind of *******
as he verbally recalls the taste of how sweet
the sweet untouched were...

"The most gorgeous boys I’ve ever seen
in **** or anyplace on the face of the planet
comes from and are probably ******* now
in Europe... Mmm, European boys...
I want to use my life’s savings to go there
enter the war zone and come back wounded..."

I can't even imagine
Shrapnel jacked backside, points and protrusions
grandiloquent mouths and holes full of
enunciations...

"Fourteen is the age of consent there..." he is smiling
a caricature of a wolf *** fang less
Such a pseudo wanna-be
possibly already
******* friend from the broken rainbow factory,
how I chuckle uncomfortably
shake my head disbelievingly

oh the humorous horror of it...

(I'm grinding my teeth, until I notice myself
doing so and get an image of him
with a gummy grin,
I preoccupy my thinking
nodding as I half-heartedly half listen)

What happens ...

As the I-15 climbs the sierra hills
the surrounding desert bush
tumble dried scenic route
Bolder Northward to Boulder City
the size of a town really
lets not digress now as we reach the summit
driving 5 passed the 75 mph limit
the valley below us now opens wide
now as the evening cools us
open car widows and rock anthems
about Love, lost, and forever 'til the end of...

What happens on the way ...
if one is restless, a running mind a hamster wheel
be the silent witness observant as
the stars that are more brilliant in the dark
highways of red white light bulbs
head and rear breaks
polka dots of glow on the late lanes
this interstate night tour
play the mute passenger screaming loudly with your eyes
and watch and listen (black asphalt hum)
feel and sense with thoughtful heart fiber
of being as One
and as a witness must see also must know
where we're headed
Billboard signs say "Dinner & A Show"
down in the valley soon to call home...

What happens ...
to each their own manifest,
destiny is your experience accepted
or refuse and deny your living as proof
we can tell one another how it goes
or if suddenly how it went
the words of a traveler (knows it does
no justice)
take a trip--find out for yourself--discover
what was happening
now that we are closer to here
sin city neon bright
welcomes you
heat waves and winter black ice
flash floods thunder lightning showgirls
gamblers loss of identities
*** ***** DUI and Mormons doing ****
what happened?
(If not yet been had)

The artificial life and transient folk
the only bad is being good
welcomes you  
with bright lights and carousel hours
spinning tea cups and misplaced wonderment
eyes open wide asleep
loss of purpose and colorful dreams
running as one (like them)
in the hamster wheel...

Why ask --why--what happens
when we've all been out of place
where are we now that we're here
and its elsewhere from where we should
Desperation & Needles
black and jack and stratosphere suicides
if you look on the map
off the walls shine and glowing
it says "you are here"

yet we're still askance & confused
again asking
What happened ... here?
Who were you, when?
And again good friends to the end
still the road is paved
with good intentions and afterglow
if you happened by
Upon
the Strip...

Death's devastating
chaos - drowns all the petty
fights and last concerns.

In this city's desert morning
sinful heat of Summers
vagabond streets eating away whats left
of joyful youth's humanity

Thin and mild mannered
tattoo novice ink
inarticulate drawings of adolescent *****
gnarly scabs / a missing tooth
walking dead in flip flops

pain clawing his expression
all loss in its translation and

Need is loud - a vagrant shout
but I have no money to give...

Young man, in his wife beater tank,
smears of dirt
his wastrel work
crawling through the black
though this morning's blinding
sobriety
forces its friendship on you
                 find a way back...

Young man, here's some breakfast
warm and steady
in the war-time melee of your stomach
empty as the shame
that must be lingering
in your pulse,

here's some shoes and water too
keep cool in this hateful heat
keep on toward home
toward mother's arms
if that's all the choice you got

survive or not.

Here's a moment kindly passing
not a dollar or a hit,
I hope you make it to the next one
and maybe another kindness will be won

in the ripples of this pond
where loss is the stone
you are sinking

below the surface deeply hidden
it's only a matter of realizing,
we are born to swim in it
we're made of lightning

when you resurface be strong and kindly
wash away the dark nightly chiding

Young man, I see this morning crying
will wake and learn
he's the only one he's fighting

human and kind and life and time
appear to be casualties
in the mind
when we mindlessly dis' & gorge on wish
for something equal,
gold and fine...

Young man, "god bless" he says
goodbye
there's nothing left to hold on to
but your soul's worth and
hearts
of those who love you

That is what you're searching
to find  

Yourself in their eyes...?

Mercy knows to leave.
While Pity holds your hands built
with abandon. Heart.

[Simple is now online]
                            the hackers' profanity
                            Keep it simple - are codes ever?
[MEGA-TRON is now online]
               " I'm for reals"
                 That's who I am on here

Someplace out of this place,
somewhere there is here,
inside the monitor eyes watching us in our
         
 drama in choosing a persona   
 * the name of your cyber self
    that fits you / and hides you

Not really. It does not concern you,
non-threatening cattle
sheep, mob flash fad :  
"we can train our pets
do tricks on command"

*If all your friends jump off a bridge?
                         Mom use to say
If Killer whales can jump through hoops... so can you.

[NoOne is now online]

We're all inmates in a bigger cell block
hell grazing on grass,
pit-bulls / Bull fights to ****
entertained by the cyber cud
highs and glory holes
we gnaw and maul over ...
its like passing the time for mongrels
on their backs--glazed over lovers

The ***** of a point is the prologue
of the trilogy now bleeding into you
intimately, main squeeze the syringe
lost looking again
finding that              {NoOne is online]
can't read to you ... fly caught
in another kind of web.

Even in the fog of it
you should know when you're dead
and the world full of the same
thunder roles down penny lane
when you can't find another soul
or even Wi Fi wired-in
connect for a kind conversation
with someone out there real
through this here square artificial face
non-sentient hypnotist
for you to cluster-**** yourself
bleed for less than their
mocking

[Welcome. You have spam...]

Members and Bearded clams
puckering and peacocking
---(Join for free--Instant Access--into your
     Big house bound layover domicile)

When you can't recognize the world
            these times at you--commits homicide...
I won't blame you
for what you do
It's only you doing it to you...
             Yet Sorrow can be returned like the sugar
that you had once borrowed,

may give you what you need to take
and hot days together
drink the sweeter
Lemonade.

Give and take - a sip.

[HardMIKE is now online]

"I wanna be Omega Prime"

You choose you to be
one tomorrow at a time...
Facade of DotCom with this monitor's face.
I can feel it artificially
radiate its digi-hate on me....

[OP is now online]

"Down with OP's Piece..."
--O for Omega (fool) P is for Prime,
like the one and only, deserving my name
  * [NoOne] * Comes out and plays...

Now milk is the witness -
(a pic of the most recent face)
of a possible crime / missing / fallen
off the face of the Earth.

(In the years of that baby face simulate
the length of worry tears and wrinkles graying)
Fading away / humanity has gone slowly
missing... the hush

Not a word.

Still hurts.
Makes me nervous, care to say...
Keepin' us on our toes, eh?
You think maybe ... just
Look-out for dangerous
that one there    
                               Who?
                                         *[NoOne]




* cares. *

It has taken too many
Years of broken
Beer bottles
Porcelain
Pictures frames on the mantle
And promises to not notice

Mr. Glass is now belching
Mumbling songs off-key
In the kitchen
By the sink
From the fridgidaire
To the soundtracks of John Lennon's
Lemonade love songs
Hitchin a ride on Cat's peace train
Or manic for the Beatles
(British Invasion on vinyl)
He has lost his collections
Soaked and ruined
From a flood aboard his battle ship
He reminisces like this
Or as a mud person hippy youth
At Woodstock

Even when tucking himself in
My barely and not legal sized bed
Naked, laying with He-man themed sheets
And grumpy bear
On my pillow, blue...

I wake to find him
Native and fetal
I am too keen to sleepwalk
So I pretend to
Toward the living room couch
Just the right size
For my eleven year old height
I don't mind
But would rather not get soaked
In Mr. Glass' yellow
Miller time dreamscapes
It would be easy
To blame the kid for bed wetting
After every twelve pack
Every couple of hours,
******* in the sinks, slowly
Losing his six pack
And or his composure
To tell tales stories
Even reasons to think ...

Mr. Petty officer (1st class 2nd 3rd)
Has rarely lost his stomach
No stink of *****
Or pools of shrink and scram
Marinated in coors and Budweiser
Weimereiner mountain man
Has his virtues
Or is it a skill?
Mr. Glass keeps it all in
Well
And rocks my sleep
Zeppelin
Half dozing to be fulfilled
I am those nights, nervous
Wreck and awake

Even as he breaks
Down nostalgic in his weeping
My ears become selective
Hugging my pillow
Listening for his fumbling
As he sways and crashes in my room
A clumsy beanstalk
Head in the cloud kingdom
Fe fy fo falling
Down

Well, it's just the broken harp
No golden eggshells
But porcelain mosaics
Beer cans and wishes
Echoes slurring deep in the well
When he snores
I migrate my mind
Away from his hell
I shrug in silence
To its frequent scenes
Yet in the morning
We both slept pretty well
As far as I can tell
From my father figures
Deficiency

All is
So seems
And he means well

Oh well.