See green of pine and white of snow,
lets the city's gray blues go,
clean air is cathartic, breathe in deep,
let's take a walk down to lovers leap.

Holding hands on the trail,
only the feeling of joy prevails,
through the woods, we rejoice,
listening to the mountain's voice.

The smell of bakers yeast
with molasses undertones,
the roar of propane as it ignites
sending blue flame and heat.

Copper *** and curling tubing
a hint of brass here and there,
aromas of cooking flour paste,
and the steady drip into a mason jar.

Shifting ice's avalanche noises,
now a steady stream flows,
swapping jars and taking sips,
adding apples, cinnamon, and nutmeg.

Crystal clear liquids,
some now full of fruit,
stacked in the corner
ready for the next party.

Sticky and prickly,
the size used in ping pong,
the fight breaks out,
under the sweet gum tree.

The first love
fits like a glove
but rarely lasts
precious memories
of the past

Splinters of beating flesh
lay upon the floor
hoping to re-mesh
and then to search some more

Cleansing tears
at bedtime
wash away the ills
encountered in the day

Flash-blinded
eyes closed
as the thunder rolls
and new love is found

A swirling vortex
peripheral fuzz and buzz
electrical sparks fly

The sleep of the post-******
is sporadic and episodal
enjoy It while you can

Chasing butterflies at bed time
me and my lover
as the fan whirrs
and we fall asleep

Fresh maple syrup
and the taste of wine,
my lover's kisses
all are divine.

The sweetness caresses,
my tongue and soul,
creating memories
and making me whole.

Snowberry and lace,
leather and clove,
an aromatic journey
into the senses.

What was the smell,
lemon or clove,
or was it mint sweet,
in your dark abode.

Jasmine spice,
lavender is nice,
but your pleasures
are my favorite vice.

I dip my tongue into the flower,
the sweet nectar, heavenly,
the exotic heady mixture
of perfumed spices
excite my senses.

Velvet purple clouds
in an amber liquid sky,
waterfalling glass, full
to make the day go by.

Crowns upon my tongue,
an icy squire by my side,
jousting in the evening,
for the love and pride.

The love within my bones
plays an organs song,
stronger than the stones
I felt when all alone.

inspired ghostly images,
burned into retina thoughts,
in the end, life is empty,
even though it is hard fought.

playground swings hang limp,
laughter and smiles all dried and gone,
the wind whistles through the nothing,
a long and lonely song.

no birdsongs here,
no leaves of green,
a rarified emptiness,
there simply is no scene.

The marks left upon us,
draw a map of life,
contours left by others,
changes in elevation
from our own choices.

Building in the distance,
an anvil shape forms,
a sudden booming ringing,
as thunders hammer pounds down.

The fading sun is obliterated,
blacked out by flowing clouds,
moving with a willful force,
its power becoming obvious.

Electrical sparks, miles long,
golden streaks toward the ground,
impacting with destruction,
an ancient tree explodes.

Proud now of its process,
it whips itself into a frenzy,
twisting wind swirls and swirls,
into the finger of a god.

The finger thumps the countryside,
it reloads and thumps the town,
booming laughter after each of its
fancy flaming flashes.

As the sun comes up,
the clouds burn away,
the fingers trail is obvious,
traced a path of devastation.

Opiod other worlds,
narcotic neverlands,
LSD laserlight shows,
pharmaceutical fantasies.

Acid adventures,
mushroom magic,
****** euphoria,
THC travels.

With my words upon the page,
I can fill you up with rage,
or I can make you see the dance,
of the redhead ******* stage.

Transport you to foreign lands,
or at the game up in the stands,
float you on the ocean's waves,
your imagination at my command.

I can take you to the moon,
or have you humming a catchy tune,
give you visions of naked flesh,
bikini girls and beach sand dunes.

You are caught on my pen tip,
watching the ink on to paper slip,
waiting for every next word,
to take you on a mental trip.

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

I worship at her honeyed gate,
I long to taste and to tempt fate,
the glistening petals of desire,
could never ever douse my fire.

Time is of the essence
Grime begins putrescence
Dime store effervescence
Prime for evanescence
Rhyme begins coalescence
Crime of adolescence
Chime mental iridescence
Climb into obsolescence

While I can see,
cannot quite make out,
the lurking shadows.
My thoughts are opaque,
a haze of time, clouds,
unable to be cleaned.

Relationships end,
hearts must mend,
times needle and thread,
or another's bed.

The hum of insects,
tall weeds blow in the breeze,
mesquite leaves sway in time,
as I chalk the edges of my call.

Put, put, put, put,
the turkey call sings,
wait for a beat,
gobble gobble gobble.

Big tom turkey replies,
he is not far,
as I pull on my camo mask and gloves,
and become one with the tree I lean on.

12 gauge is loaded and ready,
I hit the call again, put, put, purr,
he responds again closer,
ah, there he is at the edge of the field.

Purple thistle blooms and blue bonnets,
dot the field he must cross,
tom turkey dances full strut,
as I hit the call again.

Brown feathers with iridescent accents,
fully extended tail fan peacock style,
as he approaches my hen decoy,
hit the call gobble and bang.

Turkey dinner has been harvested,
and nature has been communed with,
thanks nature for the bounty and the beauty,
and the meal in the making.

Freedom isn't always free,
a prisoner you become of yourself,
loneliness as steel cage bars,
looking for a friend with a key.

All I need is beer and family,  
when we get together its complete insanity,
I look around and there's not much vanity,
sometimes though its complete calamity.

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.

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.

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.

The highway long since reclaimed,
in the years after man,
we never leave a permanent. mark,
though we think we can.

Asphalt returns to dirt,
glass returns to sand,
eventually even steel oxidzes,
returning iron to the land.

iIn the years after man,
much healing will endure,
despite. our thoughts contrary,
humans were but a virus to be cured.

In the blink of an eye,
the earth returns to it's original. state,
another species comes along,
to draw on a blank slate.

I look upon the sky, after the funeral, just gray
the birds sing, but I simply hear the hum of white noise
laughing children cannot bring a smile
a lead balloon cannot float

Pins and needles, pain and then again, none
tears cried and dried, there are no more
feelings faltered, until just fade to black
emotions spent like last weeks check

Alone, but there is no sensation
I remain but I am just a shell
an empty cardboard box of my former self
heart is burning, yet I feel nothing


two combined poems from a group writing

Addicted, now I am,
I need to feel you soon,
I have become your stalking wolf,
no need have I for the moon.

Since our encounter,
love thirsty have I become,
on every breeze, I smell your scent,
to your will, I have succumbed.

With searching eyes, I watch for you,
around every corner and bend,
though you don't hide from me,
I need the sight of you to mend.

With you in view, I need to howl,
to release this feeling inside of me,
I am transformed into something new,
even others around can see.

Like a curse broken, I am free
to love all of you, it is my need,
like a dose of coke or ****,
upon your love is how I feed.

From whence do you hail?
how quickly did you set sail?
or did you ever leave at all?
maybe didn't have the gall?

If you left, did you look back?
or did you set off down the track?
did you leave somebody there?
do they know that you still care?

Have you returned to get away?
perhaps you went home to stay?
if so, did you enjoy the ride?
now you walk old streets with pride?

Are holiday travels your limit?
only there for quick visits?
do you continue on your stride?
from old friends, do you hide?

The answers define who you are,
whether you travelled near or far.
Experiences, life and decisions made,
whichever, all your options weighed

Beautiful white Datura opens,
it matches the full moons glow,
both can be deadly, poisonous,
one from the night's creatures,
the other if ingested.

tubes drain,
cerebrospinal fluid,
as the world rotates,
passing me by.

trapped in magic circles,
surrounded by pentagrams,
as magic spells are read,
off the labels of spaghettios.

lost in the pine smells,
as the plaid shirt and beard,
of the brawny man distract me,
his axe swings at my head.

secrets unspoken,
hidden,
meanings and pictures,
and waldo is apparent.

my crazy is showing,
I feel the breeze,
realizing I'm naked,
as my soul melts.

Porch swing chains squeak,
an orange and gray cat rolls in the sand,
a dozen different birds sing
not a breath of wind stirs the leaves.

A mosquito buzzes incessantly,
the crows loud caw drowns out everything
a deer glides through the woods,
as I continue to swing and watch.

Down the hill, a red robin glows neon
against the brown and green backdrop
of oak, sweetgum, elm, and pine,
a woodpecker begins it's drumming.

Purple finches rummage through leaf litter,
below a hanging seed feeder,
in early morning sunlight beams,
I have to cough, it silences the woods.

But only for a moment.

Billowing smoke,
creeps across the ceiling,
like frosting whipped and spread.

Gray-blue particles drift,
into volcanic snow drifts,
skin, stained in pattern.

Pixelated camouflage imprinted,
subcutaneous chromatophores injected,
chameleonic components supplied.

Skin *****, webbing,
triggered at a notion,
finger and toes transmogrified.

Nictitating membranes grown,
intrinsic goggles unfurl,
rods and cons added, eyesight enhanced.

Human, yet not exactly,
enhanced for performance,
evolution forced.

Taco Tuesday excitement
as the street vendor serves,
pico de gallo,
taco de Gato.

Adrift in the vacant void,
inhibited ideas increase,
firing frightful formations,
neurons never-ending nonsense.

Meaningless mouthfuls,
spewed and sprayed,
verbose vocabulary,
meaningless mumbo-jumbo.

Brainwaves wander wearily,
bouncing from skull walls,
ping ponging, in the end,
amounting to nothing.

If perception is reality
then who am I to opine
as each persons is different
even yours and mine

Though we are in love
and our essences sometime mingle
our thoughts are ours alone
our minds are always single

Perception can be changed
over time and through influence
sharing thoughts and opinions
our minds touch at the confluence

Streaming essences from the soul
burn hot at times and others cold
their ideas are not ours to mold
but to the devil its sometimes sold

What is us and what is we
most of the time it is for others to see
you are my glue that keeps me in check
I am your hilarity, you say what the heck

Though we are silos
in the self and of the mind
my perception and your essence
do well together and combined

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 smell of the sweat
as I lift my hat from my head,
the heat and days issues rise
like steam off a pressure cooker.

Snifter of scotch is poured,
the amber a tonic to see,
the smell of peat and seaweed,
the taste of smoke and salt.

******* back
and a quick refill,
begins to dull the edge
sharpened by Monday.

A treat sealed in a wood humidor,
opened up to another delicious smell,
tobacco from Dominica, I clip the end,
a quick dip in my scotch, and hunt the lighter.

A wood match found and lit
the burn invades my mouth,
puff, puff, puff, and exhale the smoke
as it climbs, so does my spirit.

I sit and put my feet up,
enjoying the tastes and smells
of wood smoke, tobacco, earth,
and letting both burns cauterize my soul.

Ensconced on memories wall,
a vision wrapped in a bikini,
pink, blue and red stripes,
on top of summer bronzed skin.

The beige gold sand,
burns my feet even now,
the smell of coconut oil,
washes over my nose.

Her red hair burns me,
like the first sunburn of spring,
blowing in the wind,
of my remembered past.

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.

muddy water hides
freckled skin reddened
multicolored cloth surrounding

The medicinal burn inside my mouth,
I can feel it traveling down south,
a bit like fennel and tarragon,
licorice unctuous, I frown upon.

Perhaps, she was right as Disney,
full of music, magic, and whimsy,
a spoon full of sugar is what it needs,
a bit of *** punch would be fine with me.

But feeling better is the hope,
so I swallow, and try not to mope,
go back to bed, to sleep it off,
only to be awoken by the cough.

Pillow soaked, as fever breaks,
another dose its time to take,
4-hour cycles, I hope to end,
once my bodies on the mend.

Spring flowers can be pressed
and stored in perpetuity,
collected for perusal
every year.

Summers trips to the beach
gathered memories with seashells
and vials of sand
a beach always in reach.

Falls leaves and color
gathered and trapped under
clear epoxy, a paper weight,
to hold down notes against the wind.

Winters beauty is fleeting,
the white blanket of snow and ice,
can never be collected,
it simply melts away.

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

Guilty pleasures
some to treasure
but if it is not returned
then both parties
feel sometimes burned

Blood drips from thorns
the beautiful rose bloom
is sometimes the most painful

The piranha swirl on the first blood drop
like a switch turned on that cannot stop
bezerkers with blood lust on attack
once it starts hard to take back

Pain it shapes us
it can be seen
destroying our hopes and dreams
holes ripped into our hearts
then the bleeding really starts
the dripping red of our life blood
puddles up in a flowing flood
it leaves a trail far and near
much like the tracks of falling tears

So death in silence
no bell to toll
now I go on a lonely stroll
exploring purgatory I go
following a rivers flow
the scythe of the reaper
cuts with finality much deeper

Frozen tears that never fall
fill the heart and clog the hall
emotions stuck deep inside
of the wounded, they keep the stride
the time has run out, there is no more
everybody heads towards the door

The past once done is set in stone

Cooler is chiming with Corona bottles,
as I pull back on the speeding boat's throttle.
sliding up on to the white beach sand,
the party will be here, on this island.

Everything's unloaded, and BBQ's lit,
pork **** and pineapple, spin on the spit,
seasoned achiote paste, garlic, and lime,
corn tortillas will be warm, and just in time.

Generator running, as the blender spins,
margaritas slushy, icy liquid sin.
limes are ready, cut and in a bowl,
looks like we are about ready to roll.

Beach volleyball set, net up and marked,
other boats arriving, anchored or parked.
the smell of sunscreen, coconut flavored,
tropical breeze is something to savor.

Bob Marley sings out the "Three Little Birds",
from out of the speakers, I mouth the words.
bikini clad women dance on the beach,
all of the world's problems seem out of reach.

Green water and white foam as I look out,
jet skis go by with a rooster tail spout.
the sky is blue, with a few fluffy clouds,
the sun, a golden ball, shining down proud.

A football is tossed, by guys covered with sweat
some girls at the bar, with their t-shirts wet.
whooping and hollering, the party heats up.
I just keep on, filling up their cups.

Towering above Alexandria in ancient history,
lighting the way for ships at sea,
three interlocking platforms,
climbing toward the sky

Square, octagonal, and circular
sections made of huge stones
an architectural masterpiece
Ptolemy's tribute to warriors

Raging fire in limestone furnace
glowing, flickering, smoking
showing travelers the way
shining on high in the night

Fallen over time
earthquakes take their toll
no longer visible, submerged
beneath the waves

One of Antipater's seven wonders
now gone the way of the Colossus,
the Mausoleum, the Hanging Gardens,
Zeus's Statue, Artemis's Temple,
only The great Pyramid remains

Simmering summer sun beams,
magical mischevious mirage gleams,
wavering, wistful, wandering dreams,
slowly sliding slippery sweat streams.

Cool caffeinated colas chill,
monitoring Mayan mountains still,
crackling cubes coalesce till,
groups gathered garner goodwill.

2 buck chuck,
or in a box,
it quenches some thirsts,
and ignites others.

Long piles of scallop and small sea shells
Searching sharks teeth between the swells
a newer place today, different back then
I reminisce and I begin to grin

Summer fun on an islands beach,
Its namesake takes a plane to reach,
from cities north, drive 45 to the south,
until you run out of road, at the gulfs mouth.

61st street, turn to the right,
sparkling waves, at midday, is bright,
A giant crab, with an Italian name,
a fixture for years, it remains the same.

Memories made through the summers of youth,
family reunions, we met as a group,
The water is muddy, but it was always fun,
soaking up the Texas summer sun.

Passionate purple prose,
wrapped in ruby red refrains,
silken similes like satin,
mixed with meteoric metaphors.

Riddled rhyming rhythms,
vexed by vital verses,
initiated introspective introductions,
excellent excited endings.

Nasal breathing from the herd,
the splashes of tails and hooves.
Yaw, and get along,
the slap of a rope on a leg.
Cattle and river's smell fills the nose.