The runway begins to blur as the nose goes up slowly.
That sinking feeling invades from head to toe. Taught  knuckles engage.
Fight or flight in mid air flight. Hope instruments checked.
my how far we have come.

A pathological liar is like bank of mirrors that go on to infinity
nothing there to stop the infinite delusion. This poem is about s friend of mine
I almost dare call name. She is an infinitely interesting study. like
watching a Mugging in slow motion. Just say the thing when you
get the notion then deny with a smile.

A fine girl hard working driven. but to what and by what.
Her light blue eyes give away nothing at first .Her laughter was honey dripped,
One day the scaly beast did flash as I rubbed my eyes  to focus but it was gone.

Years past and the thing sprouted tiny wings and flitted
about like a moth  and later landed  with a thud. Belligerent and  claiming
space at my table.
Amazing that delusion can have weight and occupy space.  of itself by itself and for itself
I did love her once but she is no longer.stronger forces have laid claim and I cannot call her name for

fear of my heart falling to the abby's, to which my friend has gone, Never to return I fear. She
A victim of life's tortures, Succumbed to the demon there deep asleep in strands of DNA
gather round and throw the flowers on the gleaming   glass casket for she has passed on but just as lovely
She smiles up at me from the grave then turns her back and fluffs the pillow defiantly. I wipe a tear and wave. looking down on the dear departed.
Six deep still awake but lost forever. My words go unheard, my tears fall like raindrops on the crystal.
Lost in delusion the lies soothes her confusion.

A beautiful ghost now.Taunts me.
Nothing breaks the spell. The fall is a graceful simulation of flight.
my hands reach out still but she folds her arms across he *****
lies to me in gesture. tortured circular contortions that put me back at the start
not enough breadcrumbs retrieve her way.
I guess 44 was her number. The sweet insanity did come then
though I hardly noticed at first.
Well No one told me about her
Daddy knew. so did Mom
as did all. The skeleton , found the skeleton key and let
itself free from the inside with hardly a noise.
Dangerous and lovely.
swept away forever.
My darling. Take my hand  
one last time.
She did reply."Nevermore."
I pray that is a lie.

She stood head bowed over the empty kitchen sink.
The man stood to side in the doorway watching her.

What could she be thinking in the vacant pause. No dishes or pots there.
No greasy spoons or chipped coffe cups.
A billowing cloud of steaming dreams defferd rose wistfully from the dingy faucets fall that issued forth nothing at all.

Her hands did scald as her heart twirled and spiraled away to the sewers. Gone. Gone her youth.
Wasted. Wasted her precious youthfull ember. It trickled down her nose. Like a lousiana dirge to white rain washed slabs.no cake walk for her eyes.

The man wondered still. and yet stil today.
What could she ever say.

Hey Danny, I droped it twice but this one is just as nice
On the fly a small hummingbird on flittering wings just dusting the room
With dann dust and goodwill.

A quiver filled with curative pin point healing
She is wheeling and dealing
Danielle I presume is the full story.
Acufeel good. Feelgood ancient curative
Sent from the far east.

Miniature
Magic whipping about in sea blue scrubs
All good news .
Never gave me the bluesy tude.
Cool runnings miss danny.
Nuff respect.
A short poem for a big spirit. In. Small spirit
Country.
Seek and ye shall find I am inclined to believe
She has a good vibe.
Cool runnings hummingbird.
See you at the water cooler

There in the corner resting silently the old wooden bench
reclines beneath the billowing sky. Peeled and pale much
the worst for wear.

"A couple of young fellas  down at Kitty Hawk flew like wounded ducks". Did you hear?
That was a humdinger. "Somebody swiped the Mona Lisa right under their noses"
Tick

witness to it all has heard the deepest of dark secrets whether tumbledown in solitude
or passed about in chatter.

"The Titanic went down last week ,What a pity." wasn't that thing impossible to sink"
well I'll see you later The Trolleys are running slow today.

There's  this young upstart playing at the picture show this week. Chaplin I think his name is
Moving pictures,oh what will they think of next.

I got a letter from William fighting in The Somme. Dont know when or if he is coming home.

Nights are cold in the rain. Tick

Bathtub gin.  A little nip every now and then can't be a sin.
The Lucky Lindy is the latest swing.
Tock.

Mickey mouse meet sliced bread.  The birth of a nation
Bring the kids out on Saturday The can play awhile.

Heard That ****** Trotsky got shot. What do you think that  will bring
Guess Adolf bit off more than he could Chew cause  that big air war in
Britain made him tuck tail.
Tick
The greatest generation has come and is all but gone
The park bench sits and awaits the dawn
past Y 2 K and on and on
till today, this very hour
waiting for another story to tell
like a morning flower at sunrise
Beautiful petals and leaves
No one grieves for the passing of time.
The park bench sighs and
Then reclines.

The bird stood by the lake and peered at the bird on the other side so beautiful and  fine
" So long my friend,I know now that you  a are a state of my mind. I can never hope to be  as superb as you.
Can never hope to be.

One day
After many years, the bird fell in love with a skunk that was a smelly mess
and after many years the bird fell in love with a chameleon. Very confusing affair
neither here nor there..The bird  thought she was a chameleon too. No sense of self
She could have been an elf if that was required.
She eventually tired slithered and flew away.

Many years later she fell in love with a Hawk.You should have heard her squeak and squawk.
Said the hawk . I am hunter, you are prey now for your own good just fly away. She decided to stay. Anyway.
Persistent.?
Blind?
who is to stay.

The Hawk for some reason saw the good in the bird and
relented.
Learned to love the bird though a difficult task
to not follow instinct and gut the poor thing.
Little  hawklings did spring.
Hawk .

Many, Many years later after much coaxing and coaching the bird
stood tall and felt a good vibe.
Tried to eat the hawk alive. Who knew.

A sad ending to the tale
duck feathers  on the floor.