Flabbergasted FFA Fair,
dusty boots, but done up hair,
buckles gleaming in the sun,
showing is, so much fun.

Summer sweat dripping down,
pageant queen, wearing crown,
apple bottoms and popper tops,
so much to see, cannot stop.

Every age, and every size,
all of them vie for a prize,
grand champions and runners up,
like goddesses to worship.

The sadness
wave crested,
over took me,
washed me
into the
sharp coral
of despair;
I began
to bleed.

Cut off blue jeans,
with white strings,
like frayed dreams,
in sunlight beams.

Visions of beauty, with each sway,
watching men sigh and bow and pray,
thanking God for fallen angels
and for their curves and their angles.

But she walks on, with nary a look,
none of these guys, can read her book,
her pages are closed, but admire the cover,
the good stuff is saved only for her lover.

The trail of tears she left behind,
brings the waiter all the time,
she tries to stop the cries and whelps,
her t-shirt reads, whiskey helps.

The exhalations of smoke,
from everyone's ****,
******* in the air,
freed all us from care.

Hitching a ride on my cigar smoke,
curling slowly into the air,
floating on my beers bubbles,
I simply am free from care.

Bass line bumps,
from the rap station,
heads all bobbing
a music vacation.

Watch the girls,
drop it low,
take it in,
that weekend flow.

Lawn chairs sagging,
the coolers cold,
hand me another,
if I could be so bold.

Upon misery's moat,
we are destined to float.
some of us suffer our wishes,
the rest of us cast for fishes.

nocturnal creatures prowl,
slit pupils, dilated, watch,
tapetum reflecting ambient light,
circadian rhythms lost.

hands reach out,
darkness blinds,
fingers find things,
can you identify?

clicks and pops,
echolocation.
a skill,
undeveloped.

moonless night,
cloud-covered,
complete blackness,
like sackcloth.

pure fear encased,
soundless as well,
sensory deprivation,
panic attack.

running, running,
walls, banged,
glass broken,
tree branches scratch.

or is it claws
and teeth attacking,
blood dripping from cuts,
marking an unseen path.

Time has to commit
that's all there is to it
traveling the path unknown
not in a party, but, all alone

There is never enough

Only one lifetime-full
pull the thread off the spool
when at last it comes free
say a fair good bye to me

Farewell my friend

Seamstress of eternity
forever bound, to hearth and tree
flying under stars and skies
ever living, never dies

I am here and always will be

In the fields of memory
everlasting you and me
so when you touch another's soul
to live forever is the goal

A lifetime of remembrance

Not what I had in my plans
to live that long, and give a ****
souls at rest will never be
satisfied, like you, and me

None of this is guaranteed

Her dress, the color of a tropical bird,
a blue and gold macaw,
hugging hips and curves,
like a sculpture on display.

Lost in the cerulean of her eyes,
falling into pupil black pits,
freckles on her nose and cheeks,
refocus my gaze.

Pink lips of a surreptitious smile,
now surrounding a green straw,
protruding from her creamy white pina colada,
while the lime on my Cuba libre drips juice.

A steel drum band compliments the scene.
its rhythm sending otoscopic harmonics,
capturing us with its tinny flow,
we now ride its waves.

Greenery of giant leaves,
wiggle as if to the music in tonight's breeze,
her ginger hair follows suit,
the motion capturing my eyes.

A family of golden lion tamarins,
stare out of goldenrod manes,
studying us sit, drink, and soak in,
the jungle vacation.

A song for you I would sing
I would buy a diamond ring
a verse or two I would write
and read before we say good night

A fancy meal I would cook
or read out loud your favorite book
all the time I have to spend
on my heart you can depend

All these things where to woo
and hope to snare the heart of you
but all I needed was to say
that I love you on that day

Down the road, the creatures travel,
dragging feet kicking gravel,
moaning in a sugar high,
glucose headed toward the sky,
creators nerves, come unraveled.

Rattling bones,
like ringing phones,
as I am pursued at a run,
Shot, unaffected by my gun.

The bullets seemed to pass on through,
no flesh is there to reduce to stew,
no heart or lungs to destroy,
So I run from skeleton boy.

Homicidal thoughts,
to go with the knife you bought,
Put both back in the box,
or I am calling the cops.

Fear consumes my nightly dreams,
it comes in sweaty streams,
as the creatures roam behind,
the conscious thoughts of my mind.

Obsidian monoliths,
black hole generating gates,
like pools of liquid time and distance,
waiting to be swum through.

Hidden on the Moon,
cached within the Earth,
ensconced on Europa,
or at the convergence of ley lines.

Travel to other worlds,
dimensions are at hand,
wormholes in the timespace,
to be explored and adventured.

All that is required,
bravery to take the step,
through the fluidity of the universe,
to arrive at another island lost in time.

I lost myself
In a sea of time
But time was lost
Before its prime

In the corners and inside rooms
I swear I see others loom
but when I stop and look once more
no one is there, not even hiding behind the door

Shadow men and full body apparitions
slide through the dimensional partition
to appear for a moment in my life
do they need help with their strife

I've seen them at home and many more at work
in hospital corners do many of them lurk
sometimes sitting at empty desks
you'd think in death they could just rest

At the edge of my vision is a door
I can see the universal core
The spirits flow like energy
or is my imagination getting the best of me.

I bury my nose
and enjoy the smell
the sweet and the earth
tantalized
I pick a couple of lilacs
and place behind my lovers ear
as I give her a lingering kiss

The fingers pricked,
the blood, it beads,
our body lies,
about its needs.

Pancreas and liver,
all worn out,
excess energy stored,
we scream and pout.

Blood so sweet,
just like a pie,
full of fat,
leads us to die.

In moderation preached,
but hard to follow,
so we weep,
in obesity wallow.

To eat for fun,
it is a pleasure
but it ends our life,
the one we treasure.

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.

A floating island of multicolored boats,
clustered outside the golf course greens,
bobbing in blue waters, white waves slosh,
bathing-suited and bikinied people waiting.

A speck and a sound approach in the sky,
the first of many roaring and tumbling planes,
in different sizes, colors, and abilities,
all performing to a synchronized radio station.

As the sun sets, and the planes fly away,
sparks of blue, and green and gold start,
the fourth of July fireworks begin as
Lee Greenwood sings, "I'm Proud to be an American".

Down the dark alleyway,
bodies strewn to both sides,
cardboard boxes inhabited,
the stench of life wafts.

Glowing in the darkness,
pure white against the dirt,
a form emerges, alabaster,
venus de milo proportions.

Naked, she walks, new to the scene,
perfect ******* bounce in time,
to rhythmic steps,
makeup, coiffed, and ready Mr. Demille.

New meat for the grinder,
the predator's grin,
their bags and needles on display,
free samples here.

A ****** cherry ripe for picking,
the spoon heats and flame crackles,
the needle, borrowed, pierces the skin,
the statue begins to crumble.

Shadowed dream reality,
peppered curious chaos,
delving into karma
with a silver teaspoon.

Stirring dangerous emotions,
in cauldrons of cast iron,
where hearts once were,
now cold and dark, the fire gone.

Irradiated kisses burn,
into skeletal cheeks,
once plump with joy
now evaporated.

Sweet condensed tears
drip dewy trails,
falling on empty palms,
dried, unable to rehydrate.

Parchment soul written,
the final story read,
now crumbled
and blown away.

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.

A riddle of life
full of strife
choices are scary
be ever wary

In a state of fugue I left
my mind broke in cleft
in a new place awoke
clouds were billowing like smoke

Thoughts are scrambled
life has been gambled
to leave, get off station
and go on permanent vacation

Dimensions combine in the stream
coalescing thoughts in the dream
pin ******, on my head, cold like rain
even in my sleep, cannot escape the pain

Sitting on the boat as the sun goes down,
no lights on the docks, no lights from town,
man, I could use two or three or more of these,
watching constellations come up, Orion and Pleiades.

Hand in hand on the front deck,
I lean over and kiss your neck,
feel the goosebumps, on you rise,
I love you, you're my ultimate prize.

Shooting stars, on a new moon night,
the darkness is deep, but not filled with fright,
its filled with love, passion, and astronomy,
the perfect date, this is the epitome.

Little waves rock, the Blue Wave boat,
it is our castle the lake is our moat,
the smell of leaf smoke on the October breeze,
the last trip of fall, before winter's freeze.

Hand in hand on the front deck,
I lean over and kiss your neck,
feel the goosebumps, on you rise,
I love you, you're my ultimate prize.

Each word an image,
sceneries of smeared ink,
the journey unfolds,
page by page.

The darkness fuels
my muse's motor
she is set alight
in dark shadowed corners

Comes awake as sunlight fails
and the creatures come out
the ones that scurry
the ones that ****

My muse is a demon creature
gathering power from fear
as the last light
is flushed from the day

Thoughts mesmerize
and form on the page
starlight inspiration
muted on full moons

And at full power
during the eclipse
and overcast nights
dripping rain

Upon the bank, or on the beach,
in a boat, or knee deep in a creek.
with rod and line, I weave a dream,
while casting hope down the stream.

I reel it in with every cast,
unlike life, this hope will last,
optimism, unabashed,
possibilities without backlash.

Finally opportunity knocks,
you set the hook and it locks,
the fight is on, you reel it in,
in this battle, you get the win.

Ozone zings my nostrils,
as I watch the angry storm approach,
a wall of falling silver is now visible,
it is consuming all it touches as it eases my way.

A blinding flash and a
clap of thunder rolls,
geosmin and petrichor
overwhelm my sense of smell.

The wind begins to run
through the mint and rosemary,
and pinon pine needles begin to fall,
a potpourri of sweet, herbal, and spicy.

Giant drops begin to fall,
splashing on my face,
I close the door on the storm,
to the smell of roasting chicken.

Enigmatic music plays in my head,
setting the scene for what is to come,
my cryptic grin seems out of place,
but my mind is three scenes ahead.

Rarely does reality follow my oracular thoughts,
perplexinglingly  though, I am rarely surprised
as to the actual outcomes of the scenarios.
I am entertained, but rarely a victim of my own mind.

Ambiguous questions, resulting in vagaries,
an answer is usually never close,
just more questions, basically rhetorical,
all good ideas with no way to execute.

Lost in the miasma of the everyday,
details distract, like a squirrel on a dogs trail,
or the sight of a beautiful girl, walking the aisle at Wal-Mart,
hey, it happens.

Running a hamster wheel with purpose and destination,
yet never getting to any of the planned actions,
such is life, or so they say.
Roll the dice and read the card, Good Luck.

But the moment never lasts
and leaves me wanting

I smell you in the perfumed breeze
of juniper and lilac
I feel you in the summer rain
cold, yet warming to the soul

Distance increases want
as I love you from afar
waiting patiently for your return
**** the pain, with moonshine from a jar

I taste you in the pinot grigio
served at dinner time
I sop gravy with crusty bread
with you on my mind

Car door opens and chimes
I come running out the door
scoop you in my arms
a kiss to make up for lost time

Dried tracks on cheeks,
speak volumes of pain,
like thunder and lightning,
announce the rain.

Do not fear the voices,
you make the choices,
they are simply along for the ride,
you must always take them in stride.

Words vibrate heart strings,
sometimes pain they bring,
other times they touch us,
deep down in our soul,
replacing our pieces,
and work to make us whole.

Layers protect
and disguise,
the true soul,
but reflect the interior.

Climb the mountain,
of self-doubt,
until it only exists,
behind you.

I stop and stare into the nothing,
yet the emptiness is full,
the cosmos oozes energy,
this planets nearly at it's pool.

Filled to the brim
but no one sees,
the knowledge
hidden in the trees.

In the rocks,
and grains of sand,
even at this place,
on which we stand.

Open your eyes,
feel destiny,
it's not self fulfilling,
if you can see.

Tap the well,
expand your mind,
explore history
and space and time.

It's all here,
but beyond our grasp,
sealed by a lock,
we've failed to unclasp.

Perhaps one day
we will uncrypt,
the information,
and start the trip.

Lost in the words, lost in the lyrics
our hips tied together in something so rhythmic.
The bass line hits, with grunts and moans,
we hope to continue, never leave this alone.

A red bikini,
in trout green water,
a beauty like the sun,
yet so much hotter.

Texas star ball cap,
in hand, rod and reel,
glistening in Coppertone,
she is the real deal.

Floating stringer,
clipped to hip tied strings,
I'm just hoping,
a shark wants that thing.

She sets the hook,
reels a big trout in,
but I have thoughts
of original sin.

She wades on by,
gives me a smile,
then heads on down,
the tailwater miles.

Tattered flags fly as flagpoles bend,
in the ever present New Mexican wind,
tumbleweeds roll and stack up high,
as all of the birds struggle to fly.

The dust blows dark and blocks out the view,
hide and take cover, here comes the haboob,
Walmart sacks and leaves scurry, crossing across the ground,
all that is heard is the winds roaring sound.

18 wheelers rolled over and into the ditch,
window whistles, but there's no tuning the pitch
the needle grass army marches, to the wind chiming beat,
there is no way to fight, just sound the retreat.

Parked north of town,
in the back of a truck,
hear the dairy heifers low
odor of manure on the wind
we watch the skies for UFO.

Population fluctuations
and oil is on the move,
Navajo refinery seasoning the air
is it boom or is it bust
main street strolling, we do not care.

Out west of town, way on out,
we go to our parking spot
on the breeze methane and sulfur scent
watching oil field flares dance
is how our night is spent.

FLETC trainees from all over,
flood Walmart and the bars,
floating as the evening falls
the smell of steaks at Adobe Rose
mixed with live music and the night bird calls.

South of town another spot
headed toward Brantley Lake
with thoughts of caves to explore
and roasting green chile smoke nearby
it starts with a kiss and always leads to more.

Friday nights at the bowl
the smell of blood and sweat,
halogen lights and screaming crowds
quaint downtown statues
vibrate it's so loud.

The smell of pinon and desert dust,
and the air is just a bit cooler,
we roam eastward toward Hope,
the mountains just a bit further now,
this is how we cope.

I find solace in the shadows
the darkness calms my nerves
the coolness reduces the burn
of life's pains and the sun

Other creatures lurk here
some evil, some subhuman
others slither or skitter
nocturnal things in the day

Still, there are times
in the darkest corners
red eyes glow
and bifurcated tails swish

Creeping critters
with low pitched growl
stay just out of sight
blurs in the peripheral vision

The there is the chair
the one I sit in
next to the cooler
in my trees shadow shade

Mental stains
On my brain
From things that I have seen

Brutal strain
From the pain
Due to places I have been

Emotions drained
I feel the chain
Information gleaned

Window pane
Reveals the bane
Life is not pristine

Lost in the desert of my brain
traveling over sand
in the distance
emerald green

To the west sparkling blue
to the east gray and white
I dare not look behind
an all consuming fire is there

I walk and walk some days
never getting any closer
to any particular destination
as if on a treadmill

Then at times
I am spring-boarded
right into the verdant forest
with scurrying critters and singing birds

Or suddenly afloat
on oceans blue
with a cold drink
and bikini girls

Sometimes though
wrapped in the arms
of the woman I love
in a deep embrace

These are the times
when the words flow
seeping onto the screen
through the tap, tap tap of the keyboard

This is when clarity
takes me on mental vacations
and my mind sings
and I follow along

Columbia fishing pants netting my *****,
the waves are crashing, hear the Seagull calls,
casting and working a wiggler ball tail,
plum and chartreuse, give the sea trout hell.

Wading the cut, yeah, the boats on the beach,
haven't gone far, the coolers still in reach,
the sun's beating down, pick from some Gatorade,
need a cloth to wipe the spots off my shades.

Stringer of trout, all fifteen inches plus,
hung a flounder and snook, but they got off I cussed,
me and my buddies are fishing all day,
feel like a kid with no school so come on let's play.

Back at the dock, cleaning fish by the dozen,
filet after filet the electric knife is buzzin',
on the dock now catching mangrove snapper,
making lots of memories none could be happier.

Margaritas on the rocks, eating Brittany's dip,
watched the Astros beat the Yankees, hell of a trip,
fished all week with the guys had a ton of fun,
loaded up headed home on a 12 hour run.

A little red Dachshund,
lies on a rectangle green mat,
curled into a c, and looking at me,
soaking up stripes of sunlight,
as they filter through the blinds.

An old wooden school desk,
it's platform once again in use,
ready to write on golden lines,
as it is every day at this time,
on line ruled stripes of sunlight.

A millipede crawls up a dresser,
like interconnected living links of chain,
it dances to the sound of a box fan,
swaying in its breeze, I do not fear its bite,
as it is made up of stacked rings of sunlight.

A black and white cat chases nothing,
intermittently across the living room,
curious, I watch closely, nothing,
ah there it is, a bit of reflected sun,
the size of my watch face runs across the floor.

Instructions should be clear and concise
no interpretation, where you may pay the price
not told to me in fables, parables and verse
they should be without question and well rehearsed

No loop holes or areas of gray
applied across the board with little to say
or left alone entirely, if it affects no one at all
why waste the words, don't make the call

Don't tell me words of man come from on high
they are simply means of control, not words from the sky
some make perfect sense, though written too long
others no longer apply, or are simply wrong.

Misted mountain Meadows,
manifest melancholy mysteries,
mirrored mystical marauder's,
make magical mischief.

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.

Silica sparkles as the clouds part,
full Moon light illuminates the barrenness,
Mesquite leaf shadows like feathers,
tickle the prickly pears underneath.

In the darkness I feel eyes,
staring and studying me,
I click on the flashlight light,
nothing, no one at eye level.

I shine the beam around,
on the ground, thousands of sparkles,
reflect in the projected light,
frost, dew, jewels, I do not know.

To my knees I go,
studying the shimmering specks,
I suddenly realize why I felt watched,
spiders, hundreds of tiny spiders.

Their eyes like miniature mirrors,
staring at me, and sending my light,
back in my direction
signaling me their presence.

An army marches,
through fallen leaves,
ready for battle for food,
but I am not their prey.

Turn the switch to down,
hear the squeaking sound,
tight wound wire unspooled,
dropping the boat adventure bound.

I turn the key and the engine roars,
my stress level begins to drop,
three days of fishing starts right now,
with hope the bites nonstop.

But as the saying goes,
better fishing than at work,
out here there is no nagging,
or complaints from bossman ****.

The only **** out here,
are the ones upon the line,
the bass bites my worm,
set the hook and feeling fine.

Inside her robe she holds a secret,
one I'd really love to peek at,
the knowledge of the universe,
codified into her curves.

There are times you get some hints,
and not always on accident,
like on sunny days down at the beach,
bits of info are in reach.

Or in the winter, sweater weather,
you can see the cover but no letters,
you search and study and hope and pray,
that education will be yours someday.

So enjoy the lessons on yoga day,
and the classes while she's at play,
take in all the glimpses that you can,
to one day graduate is the plan.

Bullets flew as the music played,
Jason Aldean upon the stage,
the music stopped, chaos began,
screams and gunshots, people ran.

For ten minutes it rained death,
chaos ruled the aftermath,
the blood flowed and people died,
and all we can do is ask why?

Some blame the guns, others the man,
politicization, soon out of hand,
you can not legislate morality,
in a broken and divided society.

We say prayers for the injured,
and send condolences for the dead,
these are the matters at hand,
as rumors and hate swirl through the land.

Was this an Islamic plot,
some say yes, others not,
who knows what is the truth,
every media offers proof.

But their agenda isn't news,
don't know if I can believe their crews,
too many lies told on the page,
and from anchors on the stage.

From blood and bullets chaos reigned,
yet we learn nothing from the pain,
except to cast blame and divide,
the chasm opens ever wide.

The baggage, the pain,
some call it the monkey,
it lives on our backs,
and makes us feel funky.

The decisions weigh down,
like a ton of lead bricks,
all piled up together,
like the game pick up sticks.

If you move the wrong one,
they'll all tumble down,
buckling your knees,
sending you to the ground.

Sometimes though,
you can set them aside,
have some drinks with some friends,
or go for a ride.

These are the moments,
you pray will endure,
but they never will,
as there is no simple cure.

It's hot on the tractor
the sun's beating down,
plowing my fields,
on the outskirts of town.

City girl pulls up
her lips are syrupy sweet,
brings me a jug,
say here have a drink.

I take a big ol' chug,
and I spit it right out,
she looks at me,
with a huge pout.

I looked at her,
and she looked at me,
I said,
You can put your sugar on my lips,
but keep it out of my tea.

But you're a plowboy,
isn't sweet what you drink,
I said that's what country music,
has taught you to think.

She walks on over,
presses her lips to mine,
I melt like candy,
man, that feels fine.

She looks up and says to me,
I guess you're not what you seem,
No, I'm much much better,
I say with a wink.

I looked at her,
and she looked at me,
I said,
You can put your sugar on my lips,
but keep it out of my tea.