Love of my soul

I see you now only in my dreams

Yet my heart holds you dear

My love for you whispers upon the midnight wind

My tears are moonbeams raining on you

Soft starlight in the night sky is my gaze

Wherever you tread upon this earth

I am with you

Papa

Waves of sadness wash gently upon the sandy

beaches of my soul

Their foaming caress my constant companion,

churning, ever churning, remorseless, relentless

unstoppable.

The expanse stands bleak and desolate,

littered with the debris of time, scarred by

the harsh changing seasons.

The wind blows cold and hard beneath the

forbidding steel sky, weaving it's way

between and around the immobile faces of

the time worn stones, occasionally stirring

the rippling sand; but always, always,

imparting it's bitter chill

You entertain me

with your smile

and your words

And I know in my soul

that you are alright.

Your music plays

late in the night

and I smile.

I know

that time

has done you well.

Now

I wait for you

to come again

and entertain me.

I still can't go there.
To that little swatch of grass
bathed in sunlight
without even a dappling of shade
It seems like a  green field of memories
with almost no one left to remember
Even the words  subscribed on the tiny brass plaques
seem somehow belittling  
With them set into the ground
for the convenience of mowers
to pass over
It makes her seem
so inconsequential
that she shouldn't trouble the groundskeeper
with her monument
It makes me think of the mundane consequences of death
that overshadow the greatness of life
Like the simple economics
of  maintenance
I can't look at the life of such a beautiful women
summed up in such a small way
it seems  so common
so trite
I know that she would have told you
that she was common
but she wasn't
She had a greatness in her soul and being
that transcended the normal
that transcends death
I am overwhelmed by that little plaque
and it's insignificance
Enough to paralyze me from going there
I know that if I see it it will push
the other memories from my mind  
and supplant her
She will become a place in a cemetery
with a little map on the grounds keeping shed
gridded and numbered
number 6 in row B
a little part of the order in a small field
and I can't have that

I require no company
save those that gather
'round the warmth
of my fire.
Late at night
hushed talk floats
in the chill air
like wisping tendrils
of smoke.
Faint firelight gropes
at the surrounding darkness
after imparting
it's warmth.
Hours burn as embers
and laughter flickers
like flames.

It comes within the dark of moon,
black wind whispering 'neath leather wings.
Seeking, searching the scent of life,
with eyes that pierce the deepest gloom,
the fog of clouds with clearest sight.
A scream that shatters, rents and wrenches,
ripping gashes in the cold clear night.
Nostrils flaring, lips a' curling,
eyes that glare with hungers fire.
Teeth of ivory, polished, ground;
on the bones of men, finely honed.
I lay upon the cold hard earth,
my body white against the dark.
So frail and soft with warm blood churning,
deaths desire, stomachs yearning.
The beast it swirled about my head,
circled, swooped,certain death,
talons reaching, grasping, ripping.
I screamed in terror as my world went red.

I wear sorrow as a shroud

A grey and tattered garment

Worn thin by time

Stained by pain of the past

A tattered cloak that covers me

Dragging on the ground

Pulling small trails

In the dust of time

Soon I will throw it off

For it weighs me down

And I will let the sun

Fall on me again

You should sulk away in shame. You are a bottom feeder pretending to be predacious. Life has shown  that in the order of life you will rapaciously lick the lips of the alpha every time . You mistake your pretension for power, and you and only you make that mistake. Don’t think that any other believes that you are anything more than the absolute bottom of the order. You can cry to all who will listen about your greatness and only the most ignorant will believe; For a while.    Your attempts to empower yourself by belittling others is a pathetic attempt to cover your own inadequacies. Maybe you haven’t realized yet that they can’t be covered, that everyone really can see you for whom you are.    I am amazed that something would mate with you. I can’t believe that one of your slightly more pretentious peers has not taken her from you yet. You are a disgusting example of a human being. You are petty, jealous and cowardly. You are the very definition of anthropomorphism.; You have been attributed with human traits without actually having them. You are lower than an animal and are pathetic.

One day I stopped believing In you

No longer did your smile

Or your lies of love matter

Your bittersweet words

Lost their sweetness

Your smile mocked

Your lies

Became lies

The taste of her skin

will not leave my mouth

Her musky scent

will not

let me rest

I cannot function

without

having her

Her *******

become

wet Goddesses

between my lips

I pray to her

******* softly

and give myself

to her

I sacrifice

at her altar

Asking for

her pleasure

Hope has withered

And faded

Like cut flowers

No root

No branch

Life still held

But fleeting

Slowly fading

Nourished in vain

To try and keep

going

For a few more days

Outside the room

The sun shines brightly

The waves wash ashore

The beach below

Teems with life

On that beach

Walk the memories

Of a lifetime

She looks out the window

With no hope left

But the view

Is still somehow

Comforting

The bright sunlight

Enters the cold room

And imparts

A little warmth

She lays in her bed

Bathed in the glow

And slowly fades

Some days it *****

To be a poet

To have words

Softly banging

In your head

Clouding your sight

With visions

Of things pictured

Or perceived deep

Within your brain

Incomprehensible

And duplicitous

Swirling and straining

To chain

Into verse or prose

The Goddesses of words

Unasked and uninvited

Laboring in your mind

Squatted down and

Birthing broken strings

Of words

That linked correctly can

Make them demi- gods

Half God

And

Half lyric

Spelling out the Iliad

Perhaps…

But you are left

Walking through the day

In a daze

Quietly tasting words

As they flood

Into your mouth

And onto your lips

From the jumbled maze

Inside your brain

She is my drug,
My addiction
She courses through my veins
I consume her
All night long
And forget all around me
I awake
And all I can think of,
Is her
I partake of her love,
I am a slave to it
Her passion,
Her scent
Consumes my thoughts
My passion drives her needle deeper
She punctures my vein
I am flooded with pleasure
She is my drug
She courses through my blood
All I want is her
She is my love
And my addiction
I cannot stop
I will imbibe
Until I die

I sit in evenings dim glow
and contemplate the mysteries of life
with my cat
As our minds begin to grapple
the subtle complexities of infinity
We realize that pencils on paper
sound like mice

My internet is gone
my modem
lays on the lawn
like the colored
leaves of fall
It is haunted
by the signals it once received
mocked by the cables
so close
Their information left
like water
leaking onto the floor
I wonder now
in the dark still of night
Why, why?
Did she ever
decide on DSL?

She comes to me in my dreams

A lace wrapped wraith with golden hair

She runs carelessly

Through the mist shrouded  forest

of my dark unsettled sleep

A dream, a dream

And lost

I awake

And am left with the moist air

upon my bed

Damp and chilled I rise to my day

And all that is left

Is the memory of a dream

The serpent has mingled with my blood

As she devours me,

I become her lover

Half lidded eyes

closed with numbness

My body tingles

from her touch

She has me paralyzed

She has left me speechless

Her poison

runs through my veins

I can feel her all over my body

She has become I

And I she

I can feel myself

becoming dead

yet alive

Becoming, Soil, water and sky

All things and none

My soon to be widow

lays across my bed

And Weeping Mary, weeps

As I leave her

for another lover

I am afraid to close my eyes

That child of my youth

Lies now in her bed

As she always did

Covers pulled up to keep her warm

But she is thin and frail

As she was as a young girl

The safety of the bed though

Evades her

As it always did

The things underneath

Still haunt her

And have become real

Those shadowed horrors from below

Have come to claim her

Tubes are snaked like vines

Around her

Invading her

Covering her like an ancient ruin

Finding every crevice to crawl into

A young woman

Now old

The road maps on her skin

Traced not by time and experience

But by tragedy and chance,

Cruel blows that glanced

From her guarding arms

She will never know laugh lines

Burned into her skin by a million smiles

Those smiles will never come

They will only be bitter sweet ones

smiled by us

As we talk about old times

Laughing into the night

With worn grins

And Tired eyes

And the lines will be etched

Into our faces instead

What we measure in decades

She measures out in minutes

Hours are years

And days stretch into decades

Every moment is now measured into a cup

Metered and parceled

On a glowing monitor

The poor girl who never had a chance

Still doesn’t

And never will

It is such a shame

She is such as a sweet girl

And she has such soft hands

I drive by to see if he is out on the patio

or by the bench in the sun

Taking in some rays

If he is, I stop in  to have a smoke

Time is short so I don't stay long

Just a short stay

Long enough to have been there

There isn't much left to him these days

The pain meds have him in a fog most of the time

Fading in and out

But he still has spirit

He's holding out now for St. Paddy's day

He heard that there's a party at a nearby club

And he plans on being there

I hope he makes it

One last day of being Irish

I often thought about you
And your free range chickens
Being happy on the land
Living life free
Both pecking and scraping
Getting life from the dust
But I didn’t know
That it could never be enough
Tho’ scratch might make some happy
I found out too late
That it wouldn’t do for you

But if I could
Believe me true
I’d bring you chickens
Instead of flowers
To brighten up your room

When the wind sighs

and fills your sail

and pulls your restless

soul afloat

To journey ‘cross

The sea of night

In dwindling life

And muttered hope

One final prayer

Slips your mouth

Unknown, unsaid

You breathe it out

One prayer for your journey

The prayer for the dead

Your final breath

And all is said

I await the awakening of my love

She slumbers in undreamed sleep

Held between dark and morn

The last bonds of night still hold her

Slowly slipping fetters

Fading with the dawn

In the shadowed twilight

I wait to see her stir

My words bleed onto paper

In spreading pools of sorrow

They gush darkly

Onto the page

Pumping out until

Their life is drained

Then fall in pallor

To the floor

The stain they leave behind

Is there for all to read

A record written out

With a sorrowful pen

I dreamed a dream of dreaming

Laying softly in my bed

Sugar plums and torment

Dancing in my head

I dreamed a dream of life and death

Of hope and blood and glory

Of dancing through a sunlit field

With daisies, grass and bodies

I was but a child

Loving, small and free

As I glided silently

My life ran out of me

I laughed and giggled in happiness

As a child is apt to do

As I stepped around lifeless forms

Battered black and blue

Not a care had I

Not one in the world

As I pranced beneath the sky

'Til lightning struck with crackling fury

And I lay down to die

I dreamed a dream of dreaming

Of happiness and and strife

I dreamed a dream of dreaming

I dreamed a dream of life

I was but a child

When she faded

First grey

Then gone

Into nothingness

And slowly slipped away

To the other side of the mind

Razor blades and bibles

Children cut from books

Kept her smiling

Kept her sailing

Trailing cut mooring lines

Into the dark night

On the other side of the mind.

I wield my words viciously

Like a knife

I slash at her

As I **** her

Hold her down and penetrate her

Blood showers from my blade

As I overwhelm her

But slowly my ravishes

****** after ******

Turn into love

And I wonder

What have I done?

She doesn’t care

If I think about her

But I do

As the sky runs from

Blue to red

And the sunset bleeds out its final hues

Power lines and traffic

Distracting with electric hum

The bustle and blur of modern life

That interjects and controls

But I do

And will

In between the weaving lines of traffic

Crossing dotted lines

That mar my sunset

And sometimes dull my mind

I always will

I can’t help it

She’s my Texas girl

Her kiss

Spoken softly

Onto my lips

Recites me poems of love

Wild with passion

Told to my tongue

And I listen

And listen

The scent of the pollen allured her, hanging in the still air of the morning. She would stop in her travel and visit each flower that she found. The precious nectar oozed from deep within the petals and she would thirstily drink at each one.   She would gently land in the scented shade of each blossom and coax the precious nourishment from it. She never gorged, but rather drank from each flower what it was willing to give. Some were full and over ripe and bursting with the honeyed juice. Others had a smaller treasure, but she would drink lovingly of their gift leaving them an offering of pollen as a thanks.     Her small, delicate tongue would gently lick and probe the recesses of the flower hunting the sweetness inside. The pollen on her coat would touch with the very deepest innards of the bloom and enter its very core. Her gift, as she suckled each part, was imparted into the scented womb of the softly petaled blossom.     Each flower awaited her coming and spread wide it’s scented opening for her to enter. Their swollen pistils would be gorged with the potential for life and their gently glistening stamens would tempt her to feed on their sticky juices. The soft buzzing of her wings caressed the delicate parts of the fragrant blooms with a gentle breeze as she drank her sustenance.                She sheltered in the colored shade of petals, hung round her like colored sheets, as she took what each one had to offer.      When she was done she would move on to the next, slowly and deliberately milking the juice of life from each one. Every flower needed her and each one did what it could to tempt her in. Some threw heavy fragrance into the air so she could catch their scent while others bared their large and swollen glands so she could see their abundance.        She traveled from bloom to bloom, sometimes enticed by the shaded shelter, and other times the sight of glistening pollen. But she fed on each one, large and small, and in each one she left her gift. The pollen that she carried would be imparted on each ***** stamen as she fed. The glistening end of the shaft was soft and sticky and waiting for the pollen that would carry on its life.      While she fed each day, there was a gardener who tended to her plants. He took gentle care of them, weeding and pruning and tending to their needs. The flowers that she fed on were his future sustenance and he tended her as well. He would follow her sometimes through his garden and watch as she gently buzzed from plant to plant.        She was used to his watchful eyes as he watched her drink from each bloom. He knew that his crop depended on her and he would peer into the bedding of petals as she caressed the sweetness from each one with her tongue. Her long tongue would probe deep into the recesses of the fragrant flower and find every drop of nectar.         The gardener watched as she carried on the cycle of life for him and would wait for days to see the swollen fruits of her labor burgeoning from his plants. When she left each flower satisfied with their delicious treat, she would fly off to the next, not knowing that a seed would be swelling in the gorged pistil that she just left.        And so it went as the bee buzzed her life away every day. The gardener would be there among his carefully tended crops, watching and waiting as she moved among the flowers. His gaze would follow her as she traveled through the foliage and landed amongst the blooms. Every day he would watch as she coaxed the sweet nectar from each one and left her gift in return.