~for mark john junior~

the spigot turns counterclockwise,
oft I wondered why,
is it the magic way to make
things rise...

'pon occasion, the water shuts off,
turn left to right or vice versa,
no juice no bath and life starts
to stink, especially under armpits

and you think
how many love poems does one soul
in his lifetime possess,
and can I do better than my last...
if at all

sometimes you stare at a blankenship
ocean adrift, pirate hijacking victim,
no grub, no paddle or map,
but an empty water bottle

baffled you ask it
to point north,
laughs at you, asking,
"am I a compass,
or you,
a complete ***,"
a seismic groan out loud,
registers on
Florida's hurricane wind watch

how come this to be
meteoric loss of metaphor bridging,
search the Internet for the ******
of poetic inspiration, and an
error message delivered:

"plagiarize, or better luck next time sucker"

patience, football, thy women,
will in time realize the artful truth realized:

"Creativity is allowing oneself to make mistakes; art is knowing which ones to keep"

Scott Adams (creator of Dilbert)

so
go forth,
make mistakes plenty,
keep some good,
the pink ones fyi, my fav,
look that quill in the face,
and give the lazy ******* some lip,
reminding it,
it gets paid and ink drinks,
by the word

I lost her to the Green Man
She danced the May Pole Line
I remember all the spells she cast
  Her light shone quite divine

Unbearably bright
The existential  plight
Within different hemispheres
We navigated by what
We believed to be right

Visions of equality
The Goddesses time
Voices of wisdom
Captured in rhyme

Now I hold this talisman tight
And brave this world alone
I live within my self righteous creed
And fear not to roll them old bones...

You stick fingers between my
Dried bones, concealing
The dark organs
Contaminated,
Oozing,
Nauseating
Stench radiates from within
But you see beauty where only
Decay breathes forth from
lungs that exhale particles
Of death, but you breath in
All I expel, your talons encroach
Upon this lump still
Beating,
Blackness,
Haemorrhaging
Concealed nectar of death running
through what flesh on bones remain.
Her talons of nail dig in,
I feel if for a moment something
Other than death,
She lacerates it,
"As black secretes forth"
My love erodes
Flesh upon her fingers
As she tastes the nectar
Blistering  her throat away
We both felt it for a moment,
"Love was bled"
"Love was tasted"
Even in darkness there is
"Love"
"We paid a heavy price"
As the heart dissolved us away.
But we were in darkness and love freed us for
That moment, now our spirits together
Solidified for eternity,
A blade fashioned for those who cant take
The pain of love,
"To bled it upon the blade"
For it will feed on that emotion
For it was called the
"Eclipsed twilight"
Where light was momentary,
But could still evoke that feeling  
"But love is eternal"
Its can never be bled out fully
Love once tasted in light or darkness
Never really *fades away.

returning home from an evening out,
I'm in bed never later, than 5 minutes after,
which never fails to provoke a
"How can u be in bed so fast?"
same reply, every time,
got you women, got you girl,
to do the nighttime girlie stuff,
so you can kiss your fast asleep man,
a tender good nite...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

puttering punches

woke up energized,
called to muster,
dishwasher emptied,
the fresh grape vine scissored
into manageable bite size clusters,
coffee machine oiled and coiled,
fresh beans and water, dregs downloaded,
if we had a lawn,
I'd rake the invisible leaves

she later arrives,
sees my puttering efforts,
cowgirl mounts me to squeeze the bejesus outta me,
then punches me in the arm
to express her unmeasured pleasure
as is her wont,
me, don't say nuttin', just smilin'
cause I kinda punched first...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

paid bills

paid some bills this morning,
the kind that don't come in the mail,
but eyes read and and the heart knows,
these are dues you need paying,
no questions asked,
no answers given,
checkbook lighter,
but then again,
so is the heart,
the day starts well,
maybe even the year,
a lighter start
for the new year..

when you look at your day and see that you did things right
and you're still smiling, even after midnight
when you can step on the monsters as you walk out the door
these are the nights that I live for
when the stars are out and you can sleep
because you're not afraid of your dreams
when every piece of yourself isn't at war
these are the nights that I live for
when the scars you feel are barely there
you can end the night with a prayer
for tomorrow to be like the day before
these are the nights that I live for
when you can stay up talking to someone you haven't seen in ages
and you're still inspired to write pages and pages
when everything is forgotten on the floor
oh these are the nights that I live for