carnal love demands my body
and my body cups my soul
and my soul cups eternity
and eternity my resurrection .

What will we share fellow traveller?
break bread, and touch deep
a place on this road?

let us recognise each other fully
in silence
touching forever our souls.

and may our souls
forever travel
the eternal road.

Been a
Small player a
Bit part actor
One of the cast
In an off Broadway play

Been a
Smart *** a
wit less loser
One of the bell
bottomed long hairs

Been a
Lover cast
Aside useless
broken a piece of
worthlessness

Been a
Powerless
Where is
my next meal
Coming from beggar

And I've
Made it here
Where I grasped
saw seen realized
it's never been
About me

So I have
Been a
lifter up a positive
Force in this seemingly
hopeless universe

Since.

sewing the breach in my well worn stockings
where the seam abandoned it's strata
and departed...  it's post, toenailed-
to the cross-stitch of an unraveling weave.
my mind blinks, to moisten the third eye
what been staring at the mundane, overlong...
to stimulate the *******
and hasten the vibration to a resonance
that opens a door  
upon reflection, to the outer dark
and all the bright lands
between the sea
and the murk of -
the cosmos.

to an
isthmus
at
the zenith
of
a sphere.

my socks are
mended
before i find
a spool of
thread.

before the
seam
and
the needle
ever

( met )

where a hole
wasn't

( there )

again

and not
yet.

Since you KNOW so much,

I suspect you ALSO know

You dont know ****.

The huge bird tattoo on her  
Back burns like lazers when
Her skin gets warm,

And I, a human radiator
Favouring a sub-zero bedroom
And thin covers not to

Burn an imprint of myself upon
The sheets,
Massage heavy lotion onto her

Cringing canvas, occasionally
Kissing that phoenix rising from
The ashes of her history of

Colder lovers.

Haunted for decades by
Ghosts in the shape of
My own broken parts.

At my most vulnerable, I
Am torn and spilling.
Some girls have knives

For fingernails; broadsword
Words swung by own
Insecurities-

To chop down a man
Renders many young women  
Giants in the eyes of their egos.  

Enter exorsist. Enter patient,
Slender hands around
Work worn, worried ones.

*Take your time, you man
Of open, ancient wounds.
Rain your lust upon me,

Unveil fantasies and wants.  
I'll be sand; white beaches;
Welcoming your every wave.

becoming a poet since I read more
than I write
becoming a human
since I feel more
of others
becoming a man I stand tall in peace
becoming another
I hope for