I feel the electricity,
it emanates from her fingertips,
rolls off her lips,
her eyes telegraph
a sensual-side.

She jolts me into
another dimension
& I wonder.

I wonder if
I was born too early
to turn her on,
the way she does me
with her beauty.

Star Angel,
Star Angel,
pick me with your vibes,
inject me with serum,
create a new star.

Star Angel,
Star Angel,
I am primordial,
I am a stream of light,
I am your project.

Star Angel,
Star Angel,
wrap me in your spiral-arms,
hold me in your sun,
I do believe in quantum theory.

You are perfection
Star Angel,
make me whole,
make me a true believer
Star Angel,
you are my universe.

Spiderwebs crack the sky,
ten million volts
crackling down,
creating sudden whiplash,
as the rolling thunder
floods your soul
with heart palpitations.

You are a witness
to great majesty.

And as the rain pelts the earth
like brimstone,
hellfire bolts its way
into your stream of consciousness,
never to be forgotten,
ever.

The first time I smelled burnt flesh
it was a bit like cooked beef,
but more surreal.

It must have been the crushed human
skull it was hanging from
that made it feel that way.

For I could never recall any
family barbeque with such an offering
from which to reference my findings.

I wonder if she ever thinks
about the world of **** I'm in,
this ******* unholy place.

How will I ever be able to
explain this line of work,
laser-equipped firearms.

She wouldn't hurt a flea
& here I am,  
destroying **** to save me.

There's a place I go,
it's hidden in between
the verses & stanzas,
painted in my heartfelt-words
oozes from my deeper-self,
the one I'm trying to touch.

And on this incessant
quest for reason,
the journey for complex explanations,
I find I'm not do different after all.

It's so very simple.

For the astral plane
seems full
of similarities,
loneliness,
broken dreams,
cracked skulls & broken hearts.

Thus, our search shall continue,
it will always be penned &
we will always
be in *******
to love,
one way
or another,
we know it.

Ravens came to me
in the dead of night,
dancing
in ancient-ritual,
their chiseled beaks
spoke greater mysteries.

Do these harbingers,
these mystic-birds,
feathered-keepers
of the the deeper secrets
of the universe
bring me ill omens
with this cryptic dance?

Unanswered,
I lie here alone,
breathless & wondering
if she sees the same message
from these swirling black oracles.

I watched
a preening robin
on my windowsill
today.

Looking around,
it watch itself from
every angle
scratching at feathers.
It did not flinch
at me behind the glass &
I felt there was some
sort of a connection
of some sorts.

Never once
did I consider
this beautiful creature
a narcissus,
it was only
taking
care if itself.

Beef patties covered in sand ****.
Scrambled eggs floating in rain water ****.
Frozen coffee *****.
Bugs in Chicken ala King ****.
The hot sauce is some consolation.
Thank you taxpayers
for your sincere generosity,
I hope you are enjoying
your Sunday brunch.

The stars above me
offer no warmth,
they are
of little comfort.

I am in the danger zone,
out on the perimeter,
dug in deep
like an Eskimo
in an ice fortress.
The winds have made my nose run,
frozen snot covers my beard,
my eyes tear constantly,
making it hard
on the night-vision.

Occasionally,
I see streaming jet-lights,
an airliner in the stratosphere,
zipping across the Heavens,
out of harm’s way.

And I think about the cocktails,
the pretty stewardesses
gathered back near the galley,
it makes me warm
& crack a weak-smile.