Slow it down
breathe me in,
deeply.
Eyes closed,
skin touching,
slowly stirring,
heat rising.

Watch me want you,
feel me need you,
let tender touches bring thunder
as deep kisses bring rain.

Let your slow hands
feather-light, stone strong
trace shivers
down my supple spine,
as clustered kisses please.

Let our bodies meet
with the grace of angels
as sainted flesh
slowly, silently, succumbs
to sacred sensation
and time silently slips away.

You get those long cheek
Kisses from the girls.
Pats on the shoulder; it's nearly
Strange for them to see you
Alone.

Friends stating obvious things
You'll live through this too.
I will. Just a few stages to
Go through
First.
She's any other man's to
Have now.
I feel the love in her gone.
Her relief that she's out.
She'll never love me again.

~

There. She's gone.
It's in her eyes.

They look at me like
I'm always standing
In her way.

An annoying statue.
Badly carved and uncared for.

Art without
Art.

for one step forward
reach one grief
say one kind word
for a moment’s relief

hold one hand
walk up a bit
help the blind man
cross over the street

achieve a feat
a little try would do
offer old one a seat
reap a thank you

not look away
pat it on the back
the dog on the way
needs love that it lacks*

Do them we can
in this small lifespan
and they don’t demand one
to be a very good man!

I am not a writer.
I am not good with words,
I cannot speak up for myself,
It is my pen that bleed words.
No amount of convincing can give me conviction.
No amount of clarification can make that distinction.
Please refrain from using titles.

I am not a writer.
I am just a dreamer,
Dreaming dreams of inverted galaxies
Where complexities are reduced to simplicity,
And maybe love wouldn't be so complicated.
I dream of a world where I'll be unchained and liberated,
Because currently freedom is hard to go by.

I am not a writer.
I am just another over thinker,
I stay up all night disassembling the world,
So I can put it back together.
Adding new features that I think will make it better
I get lost in thoughts, and day-mares, fantasies and others,
I obsess and I always suffer.

I am not a writer.
Though sometimes I am photographer,
Snapping,
Close ups and selfies of my terrible mind.
Giving glints of places you won't usually find,
All because I write sometimes.

"If you had a gun, I'd ask you to shoot me right now"

If I had a gun, I'd put it to my own head
Just so I could never hear those words again

I'll never forget laying at the foot of your bed
As you spoke about dying or the things that you said
Halfway through your contemplation of your life
You fell asleep and I was left laying like you stabbed me with a knife

But I laid there, at the foot of your bed
waiting for you to repeat everything
you said, I laid there in dread

Then you woke and continued
like you had never spoke
and asked once again
"Do you have a gun?"*

No, I don't have a gun
I can't pull the trigger
on all of your nightmares
but somewhere, out there
you've hallucinated
all of reality, it seems
you were unable to leave
until I aimed the barrel
between the eyes
of all your dreams

His life was in the city spent
But 'twas into the hills he went
In his pocket lighter and small knife
He never knew they could save his life
Alas he knew not what to do
And perished in icy mountain dew
With a knife he could have a shelter built
Of branches twigs and mountain grass
A lighter is the soul of life
The ultimate giver of life and fire
So as they lowered him to the grave
They learned the harsh lesson of the day
If you wish to the mountains go
Then learn thd lesson of what to do

Like a thief in the night you took her
You stole a piece of my heart
All those years ago when we married
I swore we never would part

The plans we made for our retirement years
Now those plans will never take place
You've taken her but I still see her
With that beautiful smile on her face

Three children we had and she loved them
And I am loving them still
Their mother can no longer love them
You stole her, fought her and broke her.
Destroyed her cast iron will

Now the house is an empty reminder
Of the the days when our love filled the air
I still look round expecting to see her
Sat there in her comfortable chair

Yes, like a thief in the night you took her
Destroyed the life in her soul
Destroyed the woman I lived for
Cancer stole her right to grow old

In youth I danced for druids
I twirled in twighlight haze
tinkling bells adorned my feet
and magic filled my days.

My skirts flowed softly outwards,
as I spun between the stones
the wisdom of all women,
as the drumming shook my bones.

I danced my steps with passion
my joyful limbs took flight
as the flames rose ever higher
sending sparks into the night.

Then when the dance was over
and my offering was done,
we sat and praised the solstice
with the coming of the sun.

What can I write
That hasn't been written before
What can say
That hasn't been said by scores
Could what ever I find
Be put down in rhyme
And then not ignored

What can I do
That hasn't been done as of late
What can I script
That hasn't see pen nor page
If I take it letter by letter
Would that work out better
If I do it that way

What can I imagine
That hasn't cross someone's mind
If I just let it happen
Could I imagine something new in time
If my brain starts a-brewing
Doubling up on its doing
No telling what it will find

So I'll just write it down
And whatever comes to pass
What words hit the ground
Will be as good as anybody's guess
Whether it comes out on top
Or goes down as a flop
At least I gave it my best