In loving tribute
My hands don't move as deftly through the mire
Through the flesh
The spirit
Eva
I hope the angels find a beautiful way to hold you

It must've been a dark day
Even the light we saw
Was somber hue
All the days are dark
But the soil and the leaves know love
That I have lost
Eva


It was only a memory
Of the hope of love inspired
It is all I can't forget
It is a song
A memorial
My lonesome tribute
To the way my hands have failed to hold you
To hold on

I hope the angels find a beautiful way to hold you

In a motel room
With a bottle of whiskey
The Perfume of my ex lover in the air
Her negligees all wrapped around my neck
Hung by love
As I fall
All my poems scatter
Rigamortis sets in
One day
Will my love of poetry matter?

Having a whiskey
With left over dreams
Walked through the park
Empty bottles kissing my feet
Snow flakes falling on dead trees
Dancing in the moonlight
Me and my whiskey
When the full moon fades
Far away in the dawn sky
On this cold winter night
Shall be my turn to lye down and die

You're a wolf in sheep's clothing
That I saw break itself apart just so it could join the flock.
You lived with the sheep long enough that your stench faded,
Inhaled their lifestyle until it became yours.
Then the real wolves came, wearing their own skin,
Entered the flock and began to feast upon the sheep.
You sat, injured and deformed, wearing fluffy, white wool
Over your grey fur.
They came for you, and you pounced.
Your self-blunted teeth split their skulls open,
And your claws tore flesh like the sheep tore blades of grass.
They came for you, but now they are yours.
You ate the wolves' flesh and licked clean their blood;
Your sheep's clothing stained red with wolf.

He captured an adventure
And never purchased the idea of
Letting this rose go
Every delicious inch captivating
From cranberry lips
To cranberry toes

He longed for her wild
Wanted to explore the depths of her heart's garden
But alas, he had a lack of key
As time progressed
He moved his home into her heart
Their love always purer than you and me

They fought daily
Somehow making it sound like music
Their tone never led to a falling out
But, their love provided sickness
Dark disease struck
Cancer, the only thing that gave Cranberry lips doubt

Cranberry lips, what a beautiful sight
Too bad it ended with Cranberry lips
Cold as snow, a colorless white

He moved out of her heart
Remembered cranberry kisses
Wished to follow her path, be together but dead
Remembered cranberry kisses
Pulled the trigger of the gun situated beside his head

Cutting his life short, his blood spilled

Cranberry red

Awaken from a torrent dream
perched on the edge of bed
reflections of
Christmas Past
encapsulate my groggy mind

Grandma asleep
protecting the gifts and tree
from my stealth like
sneak tactics to preview
what Santa left behind

I miss her loving smile
rarely seen in any photo
I miss her hugs & snippets
of wisdom in which I've
passed along to my seed

Longing to see the complete
family gathered as one
in celebration of the
seasons offerings as we
sing, feast and love.

and these waves
             of longing
                  are burning me
              into stumbled
           desert trances
  as I crawl, parched
upon
        earth that
             sears and spears
                 my limbs
                        my inner organs,
                             once wet              
                 with the fire
             of my blood
now only
ashen embers
         the very salt
               of the sum of
              my wounds
lacerated open -
   barely held by
        a secret tourniquet
            wrapped tight, ******* me  
      in reverse tempest
and I clamor within my being
move in jolts,
like a voodoo dance
             zombie girl
stuck in the hell
of no-woman's land
a landscape of spires  
piercing me hot
making the sharpened path
dangerous for strangers
As for me,
I can only succumb to
their scalding roast
if I want to somehow
get out alive,
my skin charred
from that branding of insults
my heart scarred
from countless lashes
that your serpent's tongue
has inflicted upon me
             This.
is not the pleasure
of being tethered
tender flesh teased
  until writhing
                   This.
          is not the grind
          of earthen fire
           and sky mixed
     with underwater lava,
swarming cloistered whispers
   into my brain temperatures
                This.
is not the conflagration of
love seeds developing
into a ripe field
of the succulence of lustfruit
            This.  
        Is just an
        attempt
   to wear down
the goddess in me
     And to that
          I say
          No.

I turn the other cheek
to your barbed wire lies.
In the frequencies of the
next universe over,
an echo bursts into flames
rapidly oxidizing,
licking into
           nourishment
the rebirth
   of my
own
    divinity