lips pressed together
pheromones now exuded
lust is in the air

Whipping winds froth the clouds,
feathers flutter and fluffed, battling cold,
failed fruitless flight as night falls.

Roosting and brooding,
head held prominently,
as the eyes search,
one on the weather,
the other on danger.

Huddling ******,
tree take over,
muffled caws,
continues uninterrupted.

Waiting to wing,
after the storm passes,
searching out death,
as an easy meal.

fireflies burn orange
like glowing bits of ember
inextinguishable

Red solo cups,
sodas and *****,
white elephant gifts,
appetizers to choose.

Christmas shirts,
decorations and lights,
friends have all gathered,
for a fun night.

Pallet bonfire,
jokes and songs,
laughter and grinning,
doesn't take long.

A few shots taken,
and passed around,
Ric Flair's woo!!
is the party sound.

Silly games played,
and lots of stories told,
some heard before,
but they never get old.

With the stars over head,
and the moon shining bright,
everybody heads home,
from a hell of a night.

Ciphers and codes,
apple pie a la mode,
Navajo talkers unseen,
defeated the enigma machine.

.......................

Apple pie a la mode
is a code
that can only be solved with a spoon
under the light of the moon.

.........................

With frozen vanilla giggles,
goosebumps and wiggles,
I eat her apple pie a la mode
sending her into the zone.

................................

Pert apple stems heated
under my breaths warmth
ice cream rivulets run
as I enjoy her a la mode.

.................................

Morse code whispers
whipped cream topped whimpers
deciphering her squeezing hold
this time it's me a la mode.

The night oozes through the window,
as my thoughts turn to fear,
PC game has my mind running,
in overdrive gear.

Coalescing shadows,
empowered by lightning,
the thunder is booming,
this night is frightening.

Evil drops,
from gelatinous form,
as the phantasm looms there,
intense as the storm.

Over my shoulder,
I feel a stare,
I turn and look,
lightning flashes, nobody is there.

Back to my screen,
I still feel a presence,
don't want to look,
what makes up its essence?

The storm blowing passed,
lessening lightning and sounds,
evil is leaving,
no longer around?

A moon and sun, rise on each horizon,
the light and reflection is blinding,
but at midday, the shadows fall,
in the daily eclipse.

Warm island's breeze,
sets us in motion,
rhythmic swinging,
next to the ocean.

Alone on the beach,
beneath palm trees,
red sunset sky,
as the clouds blow by.

Hand in hand,
hammock sways,
my hand's search,
her body does amaze.

Passionate kisses,
bikini strings untied,
hammock swings wildly,
as we enjoy the ride,

Waves crash in time,
as our symphony plays,
tangled crescendos,
at the end of the day.

Catacombs stretch into the dark,
with knife and flint, ignite a spark,
torch casting shadows long and deep,
I start walking down death's street.

Sneering skulls line the walls,
real-life jolly roger's pall,
walking through the evil spell,
imagination's path to hell.

In the distance an amber glow,
casting out hypnotic flow,
a coffin, a crypt or maybe a tomb,
but still, I walk into the gloom.

Golden reflections do now twist,
an oozing, gelatinous, amber mist,
twisted knots of filigree,
Egyptian goddess now set free.

Standing here with her smile,
she wants me to stay awhile,
the amber gem gleams on her chest,
my heart screams a catch to my breath.

Countless eons I now stare,
eyeless sight filled with despair,
trapped within the devil's broach,
I wish I could warn those that would approach.

stones that never roll
cannot make a music beat
soundproofed by the moss

Hollow calcium matrixes entwined,
serpentine wrapped amongst each other,
a fatal embrace for the ages,
enshrined in a volcanic wave.

Sifting sands and troweling holes,
bites at a time, small snippets and hints,
shadows fall straight down
as clock hands point straight up.

Sweat dripping, miniature drops of mud,
as my shadows begins to move east
slowly but surely, I don't want to waste a minute
because what's left, may finish the story.

The minerals and silicate speak,
a clink of metal on metal, excites,
a golden ring glows brightly,
reflecting against the white and brown.

I realize the truth of the scene,
empty hollows still stare into others,
as the last few minutes of daylight burn,
I realize that that theirs was true.

Even the eons and ash,
could not destroy theirs,
the couples bones tell the story,
of true love at Pompeii.

The steady throbbing beat of the surf,
the rushing roar followed by the crash,
metronomic symphony of water
meeting the sand of the beach.

Dreams, memories, hopes,
and calls for help,
and sentiments of love,
ride the rhythmic waves.

Penned words on white paper,
stuffed and corked in glass bottles,
wash upon the granules of silicate
causing a scratching and hissing sound.

The pop of the cork as the bottle opens,
70 years afloat in the doldrums of the sea,
eventually deposited here on the Texas coast,
tears roll down my eyes, as I read.

The campfire burns and the coals are glowing,
stories and laughter as the drinks are flowing,
Canadian Mist mixed with 7-up
or Dr. Pepper and Fireball fill up our cups.

Leaning back in our chairs, looking up at the sky,
seeing the stars and satellites fly by,
Pleiades, Orion, the Big Dipper and Taurus,
the coyotes starting a countryside chorus.

Shadows dance in the flickering light,
turn off the lantern, let's enjoy the night,
a moving red light darts through the trees,
the distant highway can be heard with the breeze.

Mesquite leaves crackle, as they burn up fast,
our time at the deer lease never seems to last,
one final hunt, and were done in the morning,
will be back for spring turkeys, this is their warning.

Hood rats and hipsters
walking the street,
knit caps and headphones,
in the summertime heat.

Watching these people,
you're just not sure,
are these alien hybrids,
or straight human pure.

The reason you ask,
and it's true apropo,
we're walking around,
in Roswell, New Mexico.

Here the aliens
are wild and free,
walking the street
looking like you and me.

Green alien carvings
and cardboard cut outs,
help them hide in plain sight,
and lend substance to doubt.

But make no mistake,
the extraterrestrials are here,
eating green chiles,
and sipping on beer.

grinding ice travels
across a billion years
forming the landscape

Underwater, I am trapped,
swimming aimlessly, with no map,
out of breath, but never giving up,
I swallow the absinthe and drop my cup.

Elderberry wine, bucket chills,
a cool wind blows in window sills,
the soothing maroon of gin and juice,
the tartness in mouth, saliva sluice.

Hot amber burn of oak cask whiskey,
the look in her eye is always frisky,
grounded by the earthy of water and scotch,
I turn the heater up a notch.

With panicked breath,
and so hot my sweat steams,
I kick the covers to the floor,
sit up straight and stifle screams.

I hear no voices from inside,
they tell me nothing all day,
hiding away from the light
but at night come out and play.

Coalescing demons
dripping blood and other gore,
things that make movies
nothing but a yawning bore.

Inside of me,
a cold black place,
where a heart once was.

a black hole,
left from my love,
going supernova.

shattered into shards,
by your angry words,
and when you left.

swirling in the darkness,
a maelstrom of hate and pain,
******* in any hope and happiness.

forever in the cimmerian shade,
clothed in malady,
drinking despair.

a melancholy hope,
exists inside of me,
hiding and hanging on.

as I search the world,
for a love that I can see,
and maybe heal my soul.

Clear-aquamarine water waves lap the beach
making small gurgling noises,
out in what should be the surf are
barely noticeable two-inch tall rolling waves,
there is no foam to be seen.

Bits of seaweed float in clumps here and there,
gulls work, a hundred yards out, diving and loudly laughing;
I am armed with khaki wading shorts and a coral Columbia shirt
along with a green Tilley hat and blue mirrored Costas,
a St. Croix rod and a Shimano reel.

Shuffle and slide my feet as I wade out chest deep,
the water's cool battles the early June sun,
at my left chest, a poking and jabbing feeling,
a shrimp spine, in my pocketful of live bait,
the smell of a meal, if the fish refuse to bite them.

The hook slides through the shrimps head
as it squirms in my hand, now ready,
I reach back and cast my lead weight,
taking the baited hook directly in the water
underneath the gathering cloud of birds.

I feel the bump as the lead hits bottom,
immediately a thump, thump, and a ****,
counting mentally three seconds pass,
I reel down and set the hook,
it bites in as the battle begins.

Leaping out of the water, fighting my attempts
at keeping it down, a large silver and spotted
sea trout pulls drag briefly before I get it turned,
I begin to back up into shallower water,
as I pull the fish towards me.

Ten feet away now, the fish makes a final jump,
as a huge swirl underneath it reveals a fin,
the heaviness on my line increases then reduces by half,
I continue to reel in my prize or what is left of it.
just the trouts head, vampire teeth shining in the sun.

Annoyed and with jitters, I re-bait and cast out
aware that a 6-foot bull shark roams these waters;
studying, I see a dark shadow heading back out
towards the splashing fish, and diving birds.
I patiently wait on another bite.

Standing naked on the porch
in early morning darkness,
there is just a touch of color
on the eastern horizon.

The stars look faded
and there is no moon,
I contemplate the hour,
enjoy the brisk cool air.

Then clawed feet pitter
up the stairs and to the door,
I follow the dog inside
and go back to bed.

Caveats and segues,
conversations and discussions,
politics and religion,
points of contention.

Shimmering chartreuse sequins,
exquisitely shining as she spins,
bronze hair loose and flying,
into her soul, I feel like prying.

Tanned legs tucked into stilettos of gold,
when god made this one, he broke the mold,
perfect pink lips surrounding her smile,
men would follow her for miles and miles.

Like the piper, she would lead the way,
drooling men, watching hips sway,
my eyes follow her every move,
the song changes and switches her groove.

Jumping, and bouncing up on her toes,
as the songs says, she strikes up a pose,
the beat then drops and she does down low,
she moves like a wave, stuck in the flow.

As the beat dies, she walks out of sight,
oh, what a feeling she provided that night,
memories of this I relive to this day,
to see her again, one day I pray.

Coconuts and vines,
made technologically sublime,
can pick up radio signals, if assembled just so,
but never could build a microphone though.

So we could only listen from time to time,
even though I was in my intellectual prime,
perhaps I was distracted, by the girl next door,
or maybe it was the model, with beauty galore.

Where the blooming trees do shade,
I had a glass of lemonade,
a waitress came, the ocean breeze blew,
the smells all arrived all anew.

Sweet florals and frying fish,
bread, garlic oil swirled in a dish,
table cloths fluttering, never still,
fresh pie sitting in the sill.

Potted plants and red backed seats,
honey bees working without defeat,
giggles from girls, one table over,
a cat sitting, sunning, with golden fur.

Little songbirds set the tone,
I enjoy sitting here alone,
surrounded by this life-full scene,
all of it feels simply serene.

Deep red Burgundy,
from a dark green bottle,
decanted, into crystal flutes,
wrapping of arms to sip.

Earthy sweetness touches the tongue,
teases with hints of smoke and mushroom,
a bit of sweet berry and spice,
and a finish of dark cherries.

Dark stained lips,
break into a smile,
as she leans in for a kiss,
her notes and flavors are sublime.

a tug on the line
the cork goes under
grilled fish with wine

red tentacles reach
suction cups attached
the stuff of nightmares

Through the portal, I stare,
transporting me into oblivion,
spitting me out on the other side
of the universe, unscathed.

The fusion of elements,
hydrogen, helium, and iron,
changing the colors of the stars,
white, blue, yellow, red and orange.

Planets surround me,
atmospheres and water.
dry rocks open to space,
opportunities for all.

Nebulae, shapes run the gambit,
helixes, rings, butterflies, *****,
horseheads, eagles and elephant trunks,
with colors that sear the retina with beauty.

Yet I touch none of these,
I experience this life,
through eyes that devour,
every sight that can be seen.

Trapped behind my window,
protected in my tomb,
floating aloft, in orbit,
breathing recycled air.

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.

In the deep, dank, dark expanse,
stinging scorpions and crawling ants,
empty-eyed skulls stare
into swampy phosphorescent gasses.

Creatures with slumped shoulders
and heads hung low,
mumble quietly,
covered in oozing blue-green algae.

The moon glow shadows
show us unwanted images,
movie projected on the ever present
wind blown, glowing mist rising.

A lonesome howl in the near distance,
like a warning siren as the tornado approaches,
bring heads up, and sets the scene in chaos,
anguish, and terror, palpable and tasting.

Alligators with golden eyes glide
through frothy waters,
waiting on the edges,
in the sawgrass, in ambush mode.

The rest of us simply disappear,
burrowing into the muddy ground,
to anticipate safer junctures,
and the light of the new sun.
(If it ever comes.)

Wrapped in flannel and denim,
against the winter's cold.
hot chocolate kisses
burn hotter than the fire.

goosebumps rise,
and not just from the temperature.
hands search, as stairs climbed,
and the door is opened.

slow tug on
the zipper's slider head,
the sound of each tooth
coming apart,
exciting things contained within.

trembling fingers,
undo buttons,
silky wrappings,
beneath denim and cloth.

the color of flesh
and sprinkled freckles,
in stark contrast
to foam green trimmed white lace.

like sliding bows off boxes,
early Christmas morn.
revealing the gifts,
now given early.

tickets for two,
to new adventures,
treasures to taste,
experiences of pleasure.

manna from heaven,
within the folds,
and excitement,
as I climb the peaks.

warmth and wind,
suction and friction,
sensations ignite,
as pulses rise.

new places and heights,
reached and explored,
bliss tasted, and felt,
on Christmas Eve.

Don't stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep,
truer words were never spoken,
never shall I be awoken.

Do not visit me here,
I have no pain and no fear,
now, I float upon the wind,
no longer am I chagrinned.

I am free of earthly bonds,
I walk among the trees and ponds,
the clouds and mountains with me commune,
from life's stress, I'm now immune.

So remember me and the good times,
while I was in my living in my prime,
forget the end, it was no longer me,
please listen and hear my plea.

Go on about your life and live,
give to all what you have to give,
Don't stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

Knock that chip off your shoulder,
you spoiled little brat,
you are not owed anything,
the world doesn't work like that.

Coddled by your parents,
given trophies for showing up,
brainwashed by professors,
to expect a golden cup.

The real world slapped you down,
there is a ladder to be climbed,
but no one ever told you,
that its a daily grind.

So you cannot hold a job,
none are good enough for you,
or that's what you think, truth is,
you bit off more than you can chew.

So drop your superior attitude,
understand that life is hard,
to build your crystal palace,
you must work for every shard.

The smell of manure and dust in the air,
sounds of livestock, must be time for the fair,
lots of things to see and food to eat,
but you know what is my favorite treat.

Girls at the fair are looking tight,
hair got curled, make up just right,
shined up boots and denim and lace,
walking around with country girl grace.

Jeans cut so short they're pockets hang out
everybody is smiling too excited to pout,
blingy shorts shining in the sun,
way more loaded than any gun.

How they got them on it's hard to figure,
but I'm just about ready to pull the trigger,
cut one out of the milling herd,
the redhead there who hasn't said a word.

Asked her if she wants some roasted corn,
answer drowned out by the 8 second horn,
the bull ride is on and the crowd is screaming
she said yes again, I hope I'm not dreaming.

Girls at the fair are looking tight,
hair got curled, make up just right,
shined up boots and denim and lace,
walking around with country girl grace.

Got some corn and some lemonade,
I'm feeling like I got it made,
Strolling the midway hand in hand
Winning stuffed animals in demand

Walking on over to the concert
Blonde looks at me and starts to flirt,
I flash her a smile and just keep walking
This red and I just started talking.

Girls at the fair are looking tight,
hair got curled, make up just right,
shined up boots and denim and lace,
walking around with country girl grace

The music plays, presses her lips to mine
This evening has turned divine
Singing and dancing between the kisses
My aim is on there are no misses

I picked this one and with precision
I'm glad I made this decision
She is gorgeous with the wind in her hair
Man I'm glad I came to the fair

Girls at the fair are looking tight,
hair got curled, make up just right,
shined up boots and denim and lace,
walking around with country girl grace.

summer blazes hot,
the greens of spring fade to brown,
lakes and shade beckon

Nacogdoches pine trees,
shake their green heads, saying no,
at least that's how it feels,
as the wind continues to blow.

Brown needles, thrown my way,
as I trudge the forest floor,
big thicket hallway,
but there simply is no door.

Gurgling streams run over,
burnt iron ore orange mud,
filling up the creeks,
natures veins and life's blood.

The deer looks up at me,
flashes its tail and runs away,
the squirrel barks angrily,
on its perch's metronomic sway.

The mocking bird taunts,
mimicking the bob white's call,
the raccoon marches on,
oblivious to us all.

My pieces scatter
in cosmic winds
lightened by death
and freed.

Roaming the universe
in karmic dissolutions
awaiting rebirth
once again.

To prowl the landscape
in a predators form,
in search of needs
and spreading seeds.

Combined frequency
thought waves merge,
sine surfing together
the ups and downs.

Until one day
washing up on the shore
of an unknown coast
under purple skies.

Breaking free
from monotony,
of being controlled,
no longer patrolled.

Razored strings,
life now in full swing,
on my own
to cast my stone.

To the winds,
I shall mend,
or to the lake,
I leave a wake.

I will be fine,
decisions are mine,
no one controls,
now I'm whole.

Puppeteer fades,
in review shades,
I'm in high gear,
and have no fear.

I once wrote a poem so sweet,
about the day that we did meet,
you were walking on the beach,
your beauty, into my heart, did reach,
walking the sand in your bare feet.

Old asphalt road faded yellow line,
her lips, the color of sweet red wine,
sunbeams laser, through a hole in the cloud,
she reaches and turns Everclear up loud.

Roger Creager sings about getting drunk,
she sings along, grinning and full of *****,
the miles pass by, she takes landscape pics,
Facebook posts from back in the sticks.

The swimming hole is empty down by the old mill,
I pull out the moonshine from my homemade still,
she takes and sip, the burn makes her hiss,
then she gives me a cinnamon apple kiss.

Big tow rope tied in the cottonwood tree,
I grab the knot and swing-out free,
backflip release, splashing water cold,
she wades in *******, she's just that bold.

The rest of the day spent in summertime fun,
swimming and splashing soaking up the sun,
As darkness falls, we head back the miles,
she puts her head on my shoulder, with a sleepy smile.

Unrequited pain,
cured only by death,
understood finally,
on our final breath.

Skeletons of our consumerism
tossed aside the road,
wasted wrappings of trees
and extruded petroleum,
to forever reside
in landfills cemetery.

Imagining desolate whiteness of the ice age plain,
my searching eyes look for anything,
in the distance, some shapes, and colors
disrupt the monochromatic scene.

Heading that way, wooly mammoths come into view,
two of them and a glyptodon, found something to eat,
a bit of vegetation, uncovered by the wind,
brown frozen and old with no food value at all.

Yet they nibble and stand guard of their find,
thousands of years later, in a place called Argentina,
this scene is excavated by archeologists,
just as fascinated by their find.

scorched earth
and the smell of turpentine
thunderstorm in the pines

Down one of life's many trails,
you cannot see passed times veils,
you can make inferences and guesses,
to set yourself up to prevail.

Pay attention to the clues,
avoid all your prior miscues,
learn from those life lessons,
when asked to dance never refuse.

Meet new people and their friends,
respect their views, don't condescend,
you cannot make it all alone,
and will need them in the end.

clouds billow across
turquoise waters rippling
Caribbean rain storm

Twixt regions of nether,
is a place of pure joy,
dreamed of by Peter,
and all of the lost boys.

A flower who's nectar,
is the sweetest of all,
grows in the valley,
they hear its call.

In the distance,
sensual peaks rise,
another place,
to claim a prize.

Though the boys fantasize,
about all of Wendy's locations
they have yet to catch a glimpse,
and they rub out their frustrations.

Songs that remind me of the nineties,
dripping with grunge and angst,
I sing along, unabashed
from the Temple of the Dog.

I learn that every day
is the day I try to live,
from every belting verse,
I am touched within.

Lost in the garden of sound,
I roam in the super unknown,
a slave to the audio,
downloading all into my brain.

Heavy is my head,
though I wear no crown,
as these memories seep in,
and Hunger Strike plays.

As the sun hides behind the moon,
the noon light is suddenly removed,
night-time creatures come out,
and the daylighters hide.

In the midday darkness,
amongst the circadian confusion,
my thoughts clear,
the dark and light combine.

Love and hate,
free will and fate,
all become clear,
there is a plan.

No one knows what it is,
in the land of the noontime darkness,
nothing is revealed,
just confirmation that we know little.

Lost in concrete canyons,
lined with glass and steel,
inhabited by metal monsters,
with shiny teeth and high-pitched growls.

The canyon floor teems,
critters following along paths,
all headed somewhere,
with a semblance of importance.

Flashing lights of three colors
seems to control the flow,
stopping and starting,
as they change in pattern.

The smell ranges from
delicious sweet somethings,
to acrid black clouds that burn
and on to aromas better and worse.

Shadows dominate most of the day
but when the sun is at its peak,
a light like no other reflects and blinds
off shiny, objects and walls, incredible.