Mesmerised, I look into your eyes,
a cold wind, as we begin
Our journey, t'ward Eternity.
My hand waiting for yours,
the stars, they soar.
We are floating above Mountains,
drinking from Fountains,
sipping from the elixir of life.

My eyes open,
the token of your love, in my left hand, a Ring.
The future it promised to bring.

Once more I am alone,
i no longer own, this moment.

The leaves they dance, as our romance,
leaves behind Morsels.
A shell remains,
engulfed in flames,
a furnace of Self Blame,
i take the plunge.
And i walk, i eat
our Memories, Plans
your Final Goodbye
your Wants, Demands.
The marching band drums
beat in time with my Tortured soul,
we were Supposed to grow old.
I pick up the fork and force down Guilt,
upon the foundations we built,
cemented together by loves haze.

Worlds at a time, I combine,
Mine and Yours,
Unopened doors.

The house we never furnished,
the walk we never took,
the book that was never written,
Our story unfinished,
Your life Diminished.

I sit, take a sip of my tea,
it doesn't taste the same.
The razors don't take away the pain,
of hearing Your Name.

I haven't drank in ninety days
Way to go you fookin' saint
You haven't killed in thirty years
But St. Zachary you ain't.

Her husband sells used broken cars
I get to kick the tires
While he gets soaked at all the bars
I'm putting out his fires.

I'm pleading down to purgatory
As Satan winks at me
Though punishment be mandatory
I'll not burn for perjury.  ;)

r ~ 4/27/14

I once painted a dartboard in the corner of a room.
Half on one wall, half on the other; hit bullseye every time.
I thought I had found an answer.

I once jumped out of an airplane.
Nowhere to go but down.
That wasn't the answer, either.

I once walked a trail bordered by a swift river and a sheer cliff.
I could go where I had already been, or someplace else.
I found the answer.

r ~ 4/27/14

words,
said too often,
heard too loudly,
new meanings,
new beginnings,
each generation,
a language unto
itself,
shelves of books,
books by the hundreds,
in one hand,
words by the millions,
stored,
absorbed?,
where to go from here,
what will be the next thing
to bring literacy,
to everyone,
a language
to be read,
their voice
to be heard,
listening
skills
in demand
as much as
reading,
bleeding sounds,
spoken verse,
rehearse and
memorize,
despise money
put to war,
when there are;
those not fed,
those without a bed,
those who cannot,
read a single sound,
if you are looking for
me,
if you want to put a name
to my face,
you will find me, in
the spaces, the spaces,
between these and many
other words,
find me in the spaces,
see my face,
share your gifts,
may it be then,
returned to you
unexpected.
Words of
gratitiude.

You laughed at me
Just the other day
When I held you tight
And said I’m glad you stayed
You shook your head at me
And said with a smile
Where on earth would I want to be?
I’ll be here a while

But I never thought
It would be like this
As the waves rolled out
To a darkening mist
You promised me
You’d be here a while
Now all that I’m left with
Is the memory of a smile

I promised we would wed
There would be no other
You smiled at me and said
Why would we bother?
It’s a bond of Man
What we have is fate
Let’s seize it now
For we could be too late

But I never thought
It would be like this
As the waves rolled out
To a darkening mist
You promised me
You’d be here a while
Now all that I’m left with
Is the memory of a smile

We faced a lifetime
Hand in Hand
Our life was precious
But we didn’t understand
We lived forever
In a few heartbeats of time
I said goodbye to the waves
Knowing you’ll always be mine

*But I never thought
It would be like this
As the waves rolled out
To a darkening mist
You promised me
You’d  be here a while
Now all that I’m left with
Is the memory of a smile

If
He had asked me
My last wish
I woul have said
One more kiss

Thus spake and quested
another, younger poet to me,
a far better one than I,
but obligations thus provided,
are serious business,
to those who understand
poetic responsibilities, and
under his own Rules of Order,
an answer,
though long in coming, AR,
must be provided.*

Well well well
all is not well,
the faucets offers choices....
chrome hot
chrome cold

there is no such thing as
lukewarm truth in
clear waters that
run run,
yet never
run stilled,
birthed at turned-on conception,
to drain death removal,
another daily poetic miracle,
unappreciated by most,
overly consumed by their
own passage on this Earth

peddler wayfarer,
passing through with truth
poem pots and rattling pans
(nowadays, mostly panned),
a historic factoid,
and not what Amazon delivers...
truth is a genetically modified
bitcoin currency, misunderstood,
prone to sometimes useful,
but never ever, to stick or stain,
for I got excuses and who gives a ****,
yesterday is forgotten instantly

The coldest truths,
the confirmation of same
by mirrored image text sent,
(immediacy a necessity,
for though poor, it is 'real')
the twitter that methodically
A-lists your major crimes
B-lists your petty,
hope-you-didn't miss my
exposé of latest misdemeanors

the hot truths,
only whispered,
merely mint hinted
in a hot cuppa,
the heat itself
a cover up,
for what you do not
wish me to plainly speak
or plainly sell,
is accursed truths,
won't sell, even if free

Can't write about moon and June,
alabaster is a fine word,
but white suits me fine,
don't know the diff
tween dragon flys and lullabies

The way I write is
just the way I think, believe,
from my eyes to paper
there is no misdirection,
just silent labor conception

Poor poor real truth
is out of favor these days,
because there is nothing
no one won't cease or hesitate
to expose himself,
flaunt the anguish,
copy other's jive,
but that is real,
but it is not truth

Had a bad day,
You need to know about it
Right away!

Though I meander and excuse,
there is one state of truth,
I need yet to annotate

Too oft when tapped turned on,
it is rusty water and rusted truths
expelled and this, my stuff, my days,
not in vogue, or a top seller

I love the color rust,
overused in my poems,
but compulsion is not a
conditional, but a must

This then is the form
they spill in these,
my final days here

You might think that rust implies
lack of use,
a non-caring
for his voice,
his well practiced instrument

Au contrarie, amigo!

My rust is from overuse,
my eyes don't see
what the popular want nor
could I provide it
even if
it was demanded,
which it is not....

Rusted but unvarnished,
undisguised by fancy words
or silent cries, what you read
is what you get
until I find
a more "authentic" voice,
one that satisfies the world
not just me...he sneers....

Feel for me in the summer breeze,
from whence my best stuff
has always been plucked
sent on its way, to you,
in self-same wind,
to kiss your cheeks,
slap you alert

I used to write
on both feet
upstanding,
then Hillel was asked for
the whole truth
while standing
on just one leg

His reply:
"Love they neighbor as you love thyself"*

So I switched
and now compose,
in quiet ignorance,
a wrong footed poet,
left only with his what's left,
and to put his left foot truths
first, forward and foremost,
is what he got, and
what I got, you'll get....

But a cautionary note,
drinking riposte rustys,
bad for the body,
but kindly
for your mental
wealth,
if your have the
only other element
most needed,
in your pocket posses,

courage

A Sunday morning out there that
Makes me want to open every
Window and merge outside with
In-.
I could eat the weather; it's so nice.

She smells like fresh laundry
When she sleeps.
Slight dreamsmile on lips that say
They love me daily, and when I run my finger
Over her latest tattoo, they part in a smile even
Fuller. She stretches with a morning moan.
Never interrupt a streching girl.

God...
I hope to God that there is one
So this gratitude is recieved
By The Deserving.

I never pray; I never don't.
I've never been outside a church.

All I have is the same as the richest man
In the world.
The currency is just slightly other.

Beauty seeping from the pores of
Everything, and contrary to the claims of mr.
MC Hammer, I can -indeed-
Touch this.

Breathless sky
how silent clouds collide
leaving me to charcoal gray
teardrops will rain
today

Tomorrow how the Spring
sweetly sings of cloudless skies
blossoms will rain, fragrantly
the orange tree

and still
no matter the weather
gorgeous birds unwavering
will sing in secret codes
seemingly knowing
more than I