Psychedelic mentation,
****** predation,
I feast upon her nectar,
found nothing any better.

As the swirling lights,
take me to wuthering heights,
I wallow in her slime,
feel absolutely sublime.

Love and pain,
the ouroboros,
upon my finger,
worth every laugh,
worth every tear.

opaque mesh hides prizes,
Valentines night excitement,
she will be mine.

Deep timbre words,
seemingly from nowhere,
offering advice on life
and different opportunities.

Choices are the spice of life,
they flavor the future,
from deep within,
ancestors speak guidance.

Sometimes skull-rattling,
other times a whispered word,
like marks on a map,
to keep us on track.

In the end, the choice is ours,
to heed the mental whispers,
or to venture down dangerous alleys,
despite the inner warnings.

Forgotten melodies swirl inside my head,
the piano plays out a chorus that I don't remember,
it is hot, the fan whirrs above my bed,
but my soul is as cold as the night in December.

My heart beat drums out a line,
accompaniment, to the crashing of the psychic cymbals,
the lyrics ooze from deep inside, saying Don't Give up without a fight.

I run the streets searching for you,
screaming out your name, like only madmen do,
I am no longer free to choose,
trapped in this moment till I find you.

Shadows flicker in the wind,
as the trees dance to my mental music,
I need to find you now to mend,
as I walk the line of sanity, about to lose it.

I run the streets searching for you,
screaming out your name, like only madmen do,
I am no longer free to choose,
trapped in this moment till I find you.

There you are now down the way,
your beauty shining brighter than the street lights,
I run to you and my vision goes gray,
as my arms are trapped by this straightjacket so tight.

I run the streets searching for you,
screaming out your name, like only madmen do,
I am no longer free to choose,
trapped in this moment till I find you.

a payment taken
hours and minutes and years
no refund policy

Whitetail deer graze
as cottonwood blooms float,
like fairies on the breeze.

A distant rumble felt,
triggering turkey gobbles,
from the near woods.

A piercing noise shatters the silence,
slowly growing louder,
heads raise and look toward the tracks.

Sprinting toward cover,
the field now empty,
as the sound fades.

Fur and fang,
brother's intertwined,
lycanthrope and upior,
mythology undermined.

Meat and blood nourish,
incomplete feedings,
creating offspring,
without breeding.

Under cover of night,
moon shadows walking,
seeking prey,
slinking and stalking.

Evil, perhaps
but it lives in all,
perhaps we are,
if we heed it's call.

Fangs bared,
saliva drips,
the fear is real,
beyond my grip.

Lungs burning,
as I run,
the Sprint continues,
I have no gun.

Swerving left and right,
jumping fallen trees,
bite off a scream,
as I flee

Slipping and tripping,
crawling away,
footsteps continue
coming my way.

Hiding now,
eyes closed tight,
getting ready,
for a fight.

Footsteps walk on,
as they pass,
wonder how long,
reprieve will last.

Puffs of breath illuminate,
in the cold moonbeams,
icicles grow on eyelashes,
trapping the water vapor.

My eyes are warmed,
by the view in front of me,
swaying hips in ski pants,
waiting, unknowing my want.

Fur  escapes the hood,
marking the halo
in the early evening,
a snow angel walks.

Snow forms in my hands,
chilling them to blue,
I approach from behind,
my hand creeping.

Suddenly a scream rings out,
my hand found a seam,
and ice cold palm applied,
under her jacket and shirt.

Some of us hunt,
some drink and chew,
there isn't much,
these boys can't do.

We can weld on metal,
we build with wood,
we try only to do,
the things that we should.

Our collar is blue,
skin bronze from the sun,
we work really hard,
and so is our fun.

During the day,
driving nails and screws,
fixing fences and feeders,
but Friday night barbecues.

The field needs plowing,
hay needs to be made,
a sandwich and tea,
at lunch in the shade.

Our collar is blue,
skin bronze from the sun,
we work really hard,
and so is our fun.

Our hands are hard,
our ethic is pure,
our women at night,
we know is the cure.

Dinner and drinks,
some hugging and kissing,
working all day,
but they're who we're missing.

Our collar is blue,
skin bronze from the sun,
we work really hard,
and so is our fun.

Rock slopes capped
in oranges and browns,
leaves waterfall down the edges,
pooling at the base.

The zephyr sets them in motion,
a river of leaves in flash flood,
dancing colors wash through,
the arroyo dry, but still flowing.

Gnashing teeth
stained red,
polished by,
a searching tongue.

Instincts on high alert,
nostrils flare,
tapetum gathers light,
searching the dark.

Ears perked,
stillness of muscle,
an odd calmness,
before the attack.

Hindquarters load,
the spring has sprung,
launching, teeth bite down,
crimson metallic Tang in the air

Fresh and tender,
gangly limbs grow,
young leaves flap,
in the wind.

Young buds form,
longing to blossom,
unspoiled petals,
contained within.

With impatience I wait,
longing for spring,
and the warmth of the sun,
to open the blooms.

I hum in anticipation,
flitting back and forth,
checking on the progress,
of the future nectar.

Vicious intent,
haunts the night,
the verge of evil,
barely contained.

Veils raise,
shadows reach out,
clawed fingers grip,
the leathered hilt.

Moonlight glows,
reflected in polished steel,
danger incarnate,
walks free.

Suppressed diurnal,
contained in the light,
captured by society,
expectations bars.

Freedom to do,
anarchy of thought and deed,
lost to pleasantness,
creating mental strife.

It exists, a living thing,
the darkness infects us all,
simply waiting and probing the edges,
waiting to escape.

From the lips of ancients,
words unheard,
carved into tablets of clay,
and walls of stone.

Hieroglyphics and petroglyphs,
Sanskrit scratches like from a chicken,
in the dust off a picked over yard,
unintelligible, but fascinating.

Deciphering takes time,
time is everlasting,
suddenly a keyword is found,
opening the meanings.

The poetry of your heart,
to me is no longer a conundrum,
understanding is mine,
love is mine.

Time was not friendly,
but what was put in,
is worth every tear and sweet drop,
tenfold of what was received.

Context clues and imagination,
coloring conclusions in shades
of blue, red and green.

Red for passion,
blue depression,
and the evil green of envy.

Fiery thoughts of her encounters,
icy cold azure, cause it wasn't me,
and viridian coveting of her.

So many emotions,
the choice is hers,
I wait.

Washed up on a shore,
awakened all alone,
no buildings or people,
no huts of grass or stone.

Looking all around,
in the glinting sand,
bits and pieces of my boat,
waves carried to this land.

Do I sit and cry,
or gather what I can,
I must answer quick,
I'm the only one who can.

So I choose quickly,
to see if I can survive,
but I want to do more,
even alone I want to thrive.

So explore my island jail,
to see what is here,
fresh water spring found,
hogs, and some kind of deer.

Rats and seabirds too,
live upon this rock,
if they can, I can too,
I refuse to ever stop.

Metallic bead necklaces,
in reds and greens, and golds,
dangle from necks,
and twirled around fingers.

Two foot tall
color changing glasses,
containing hurricane forces,
stirred with massive straws.

Quarter is invaded,
by screaming masses,
eating sweet colored cake,
hoping not to find a baby.

Briny boils and spice,
ignite tastebuds,
and start a sweat,
adding to the humidity.

Fried dough topped
with powdered sugar,
like a blizzard of sweetness,
brought by du monde.

Reptiles coast through bayous,
ghosts escape mausoleums,
ancient religions create
and control the living dead.

Handfuls of joy,
wrapped up in lace,
serpentine curves,
a pleasure to trace.

Removing her layers,
back to her core,
like peeling peaches,
your just want some.more.

Smooth tan skin,
capped in pink,
unleashing her beauty,
I stare with no blink.

The smell of perfume,
the taste of her skin,
with warm exhaled breaths,
and then I begin.

Exploring her slopes,
circling around,
my tongues an explorer,
searching base to the crown.

When at last my mouth,
envelopes the prize,
she let's out,
pleasured moans and sighs.

Camouflaged Jack Frost infiltrated covers,
worming into the bed in a military crawl,
starting at my feet he slowly creeps in,
even slithering into my socks.

Slowly up my legs, he oozes,
eventually sapping all my heat,
I toss and turn and turn and toss,
but that just gives him more room.

I get up to free myself from his icy grip,
headed to the thermostat on the wall,
pressing the screen to increase the temperature,
the fan icon spins, but the real one doesn't turn.

Tripped breaker, Mother Nature wins,
I bundle up to go do battle outside,
the wind batters me as flurries fall,
I pry open the icy breaker box.

Icecicles fall, threatening my toes,
like ***** traps set for me,
a pile of snow falls off the house,
and down my collar, as winter fights.

But I win the battle this time,
I flip the tripped switch and the heat kicks on,
slipping and sliding back into the house,
the war continues outside.

The world is filled with lies and hate,
the human race deserves its fate,
another flood, or maybe from space an asteroid,
or maybe well just hang around till the earth we have destroyed.

Shall we play a game, sure how about global thermonuclear war,
no one will win, but we all will know the score,
winter sets in for a thousand years,
only a few will survive through much pain and tears.

Shed for the planet and for loved ones lost,
those who pulled the trigger didn't understand the cost,
trapped in a bunker hundreds of feet under the ground,
they couldn't feel the heat but they could hear the sound.

Booms of thunder, and explosions untold,
like stories from the bible about the days of old,
those not burned up, or evaporated in the blast,
will wish that they had been, as they cannot last.

Terminator or the Matrix, or Planet of the Apes,
it really doesn't matter as we can't escape,
an alien experiment that has gone awry,
maybe to the stars, some of us will fly.

Decide your fate,
walk around the lake,
with me holding hands,
for so long I have planned.

Summer sun sinking down,
laying you upon the ground,
blue jean shorts and bikini top,
pull them off, just don't stop.

Her hair up in a ponytail,
on a bronzed body, I set sail,
first to starboard, then to port
heading toward her last resort.

As darkness sets,
I close all bets,
bullets fired from a gun,
I guess this means that I have won.

My angel lays on unfolded wings
my heart it suddenly sings,
beauty captured in the twilight,
forever burns in my eyesight.

Out passed the boonies,
and out passed the docks,
off of the paved road,
and on to the rocks.

No sidewalks, no street lights,
no stores to be found,
only open skies and pines,
song of birds only sound.

Crystal clear water,
as smooth as glass,
a deer walks on by,
mouth full of grass.

No cell phone reception,
and a cooler of beer,
a bag chair and tent,
I'm glad to be here.

Fishing rod and tackle box,
and some sandwich stuff to eat,
being on the backside of nowhere,
is one hell of a treat.

Pressured darkness,
movements surround me,
bioluminescence glows green,
back toward the surface.

Xenophyophores lie silent,
in the syrupy coldness,
a snailfish glides by,
ignoring me completely.

Sinking in the gray ooze,
every step is a challenge,
as I head downhill toward
the Challenger Deep.

Surprisingly it is not silent here,
baleen whale song tickles my ears,
as does the sound of propellers,
from many miles away.

Now, completely alone,
as I bottom out,
squeezed and frozen,
in the blackness.

Nothing here save some microbes,
invisible to my eye and ear,
I've had enough,
I begin my long ascent.

Occasional snow on desert sand,
Multicolored Christmas lights dot the land,
Green Chile stew and biscochitos,
Its the holidays in new Mexico.

Tumbleweeds stacked and painted white,
Decorated as a snowman, quite a sight,
Top hats, scarves, gloves and faces,
buttons and even boots with laces.

Ristras of chiles wrapped around trees,
the smell of pork roasting floats on the breeze,
Tamales by the dozen, ready to eat,
So tasty and spicy, what a treat.

A bit of eggnog and the choir singing,
luminaries lit and churchbells ringing,
Santa Claus in red and white,
ready for a Christmas Eve night.

We shoot across the galaxy,
riding the comet's tail,
thousands of miles an hour,
leaving a shining trail.

Stopping here on earth,
for a hundred years or less,
leaving a scar on hearts,
for life is such a mess.

Touching other souls,
sending them reeling from the collision,
just like an asteroid impacting satellite,
controlled with imprecision.

So leave your mark while your here,
because remember time goes fast,
then once again into the universe,
time on Earth never lasts.

I spraypaint the stars across the sky,
I paint the night with black,
I send goosebumps down your spine,
you never remember me, you're an amnesiac.

I send the sun up every morning,
the waves on the ocean are for you,
amethyst colored mountains tipped with snow,
on the horizon is always new.

Shining gray at midnight,
the light of the moon,
sets your eyes a sparkle,
your heart I try to harpoon.

Poetry and music,
I write to catch your heart,
you enjoy for a moment,
then I must restart.

I shall never give up,
my love shall never die,
the only thing I will do,
is forever continue to try.

fill my simple cup
no gold or silver chalice
just love to sustain me

Simple paper sacks line the sidewalk,
moving in the wind,
just trash waiting to blow away.

Christmas Eve, sacks glow from within,
candles flicker, with the meekest of light
yet fill our spirits with love and hope.

The display steals our breath,
as we walk down the street,
a lit path for visitors to travel.

Twinkling lights mirrored in blue eyes,
a group of carolers in the distance,
set a festive mood.

Hand in hand strolling,
the neighborhood lights entertain,
a few snowflakes fall.

Our lips meet,
tasting of hot chocolate and eggnog,
our heat defies the cold night.

Like a gift unwrapped,
love is given,
on Christmas Eve.

Charcoal smeared gingham,
hangs from malnourished bones,
like curtains on an abandoned house,
whose windows have long since broken,
yet a spirit is contained behind blue eyes,
a life that refuses to break into dust.

Through the pickets stared,
at the lady who was bared,
in the summer sun,
he was only having fun.

Walking between houses,
on the way to a friends,
he never really knew,
how this adventure might end.

He heard the waters splash,
and decided to take a look,
he saw her lay down,
and begin to read a book.

Water drops ran,
between places he had dreamed,
never in his life,
did he think he might have seen?

The lady two doors down,
on display, her beauty shown
and since then he volunteers
when her grass needs to be mown.

At night in his dreams,
he sees her in her glory,
to say he is excited,
isn't nearly enough story.

Arrowheads and Flint knapped knives,
survive the act of taking lives,
whether battle or hunting game,
into the future, they ride the rain.

From sandy hills and from creek beds,
painting pictures in our heads,
turquoise beads and pottery shards,
strewed about like fallen cards.

These tell us stories from the past,
civilizations never last,
but do we heed the lessons learned?
No, we continue unconcerned.

Building hate between our clans,
left and right divide the lands,
and in the days of future time,
someone else digs up our crimes.

Use the words of poetry,
to find and ease the sorrow,
find a way to enjoy,
the time on earth we have borrowed.

Luna smiles upon the earth,
tides rise, as do emotions
and lips meet in the shadows.

The once beautiful face,
now smeared with tears,
as rivers of makeup trail,
like icicles in winter.

Oh the pain and the strain,
of a man who knows not,
how to love his beautiful girl,
let his heart just rot.

All alone he'll spend his days,
wasted love gone by,
but he doesn't even notice,
the tear run from his eyes.

Oh to lose a love,
anger denial blame,
searching for the reasons,
finding none,
moving on, hopefully.

But faded love never truly fades away,
it hangs on like a cloud on a sunny day,
climbs upon your back, and never lets go,
It becomes a part of you neverending flow.

Death stands on the edge,
ready at a moments notice,
cleaning the battlefield of injured.

The piranhas gather at the first drop of blood,
weakness draws them in mass,
the first one takes a nibble,
then the whole mob attacks,
I am reduced to a pile of bones.

With marmalade hair of feathered curls,
I stare into azure eyes, touching my heart,
meandering down a freckled neckline,
after humming a hymn into rose-colored lips.

Her angel wings retracted,
covered with filigree embedded lace,
a corset of purple velvet orbits her core,
I fall upon her like dawn on the day.

In a castle room warmed with tapestries
upon stone walls as old as the galaxy,
ancient eyes stare out at us,
from a portrait of a long-lost ancestor.

A smile touches the lips,
as parchment paper cracks,
a ghostly approving moan,
mixes with ours.

Through the portal of my mind,
I never know what I might find,
animals talking or a visiting alien,
synapse snapping, having fun.

Shredded bits of shiny paper,
reflecting flashing Christmas lights,
unwrapped gifts piled by owners,
the now empty stockings rehung.

A sleepy grin on the faces in the room,
Polar Express plays on the TV,
as hot hot hot, hot chocolate is passed,
texts cause phones to Jingle Bell.

Merry Christmas and love you guys,
sent from all over the world,
and returned with plenty of emojis,
as the smell of ham, roasting wafts in.

The cat plays with a stray bow under the table,
tossing and shredding the green ribbon,
the dog watches uninterestedly,
as she chews on a Christmas bone.

Slamming doors and angry screams,
revving engines and broken dreams,
lipstick print on my cheek,
my stuff thrown out, I'm up a creek.

Late for a date with my girl,
I'd never cheat, she is my world,
been fishing all morning down at the lake,
headed home stopped with a broken rake.

Ol' Mrs. Watson backed over, headed to town,
she asked me for help with a little frown,
two flat tires on her truck,
had them off and fixed she was in luck.

Kiss on my cheek as a thank you,
little did I know that I was *******,
walked in the house feeling happy,
my girl saw the lipstick and her hands got slappy.

Slamming doors and angry screams,
revving engines and broken dreams,
lipstick print on my cheek,
my stuff thrown out, I'm up a creek.

So I leave, head back to the lake,
still, have some beer resigned to my fate,
While I pout, Mrs. Watson calls my house phone,
my girl was crying, sitting all alone.

Hello, she says, and Mrs. Watson says hi,
just wants to thank me again, says I'm a hell of a guy,
oh no she thinks what have I done,
have I ******* up and lost the one.

Here she comes crying down to the lake,
picnic and a bikini and begging mistake,
suns going down, skinny dipping apologies,
I tell her its okay with a final squeeze.

Slamming doors and happy screams,
revving engines and growing dreams,
lipstick prints on both my cheeks
back to the house tangled up in the sheets.

To rise above,
or sink below,
the masses squirm,
inside this hole.

A mediocre pool,
of writhing sin,
where you swallow,
to fit in.

Gulp your pride,
repress your dreams,
dance the conga,
to their screams.

The Kool-aid is sweet,
slow poison filled,
the antidote is
a strong free will.

The choice is yours,
to buck the mold,
their origami,
will you unfold?

Or shall you drink,
from their glasses,
and be one of,
the zombied masses?

From the Oak cask pours the golden remedy,
filling a snifter and like a crystal ball diviner,
the future of this cold evening is evident,
frost flowers already forming out my window.

With the first sip, and the delicious burn
the muscles relax just a bit, and a sigh escapes,
the week's demon releases his grip a bit,
I shall banish him in the hours to come.

Sweet Melody emerges from the bedroom,
she moves like her namesake,
music in motion incarnate,
as she walks by, I steal a kiss and a smile.

The fire crackles and pops across the room,
raging flames there and deep within my core,
she says pour another drink and join me,
as she burrows into blankets in front of the pyre.

blue-grey dreams attack,
melancholy clouds drift by
blanketing my soul

Torn bits of vellum scatter in the breeze,
black ink hangs on with vicious strength,
though opaque, the meaning remains hidden,
jumbled words in the ambient incandescence.

The author slowly walks away on the horizon,
the reader sobs, head in her hands on a bench,
leaves and dust begin to blow along with the poem,
scattered into the hinterlands of loss.

Still under your casted spell,
years and miles have not broken,
the rosined bow glides heartstrings,
a melody from yesterday plays.

It's funny how painted lips
seen across the room,
stirs a passioned cauldron
I thought emptied.

But those lips once pressed to mine,
branded and injected and scarred,
with witchcraft skill outshining Mab,
a lust that cannot be rend asunder.

The reunion cut short,
I hurry and leave,
lest she see me,
whereupon I shall turn to clay.

Too malleable in her hands,
and too open to suggestion,
my will wants this,
but my mind must overcome.

Coitus aroma still hangs
in the bedroom air,
sheets lay in tangled knots,
memories burned in,
only moments ago,
but already longing.