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

Flavored creamer clouds
swirling in my coffee mug,
moving shapes of critters,
but this morning there's really a bug.

Pour another cup,
expecting pretty clouds,
but the only one that appears
is a nuclear mushroom floating proud.

Take a sip, oh so sour,
I guess the milk had turned,
dump and rinse and try again,
I'm starting to feel burned.

This time I just pour it black,
to where has gone my mood,
I turn and head to the table,
trip and spill it into my food.

Throw it all away,
think about crawling back into bed,
but it's a manic Monday morning,
and if I miss work my job is dead.

Crimson carpet path,
celebrated actions or art,
kept apart from the peasants
by electric velvet cords.

As I walk, surrounded
cameras flash
and beautiful people
part as if on command.

I start to believe
what I read and I am told,
I have risen above the others
and now pronounce to them.

Like a religious leader,
but not lost in fervor,
no, simply in my own opinions
which I believe are gospel.

The truth is I'm no better
than the vagrant on the street,
the homeless under the bridge
or the people on the ropes periphery.

Yet I have forgotten this,
and will ride like a Byzantine king,
until one day, my sedia gestatoria
crashes to the ground, abandoned.

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

With glint of scale
and gleam of eye,
the dragon riders
take to the sky.

Armor black
and swords of steel,
we give no slack,
will make them kneel.

A few months we have let them be,
a new village built beside the sea,
master wants us to move them north,
dark mountains near his magics source.

From behind the clouds
and lit by the moon,
with whipping shrouds,
we dive down to this tune.

Commanding fire we build a cage,
villagers once again enraged,
their archers fire into the night,
we've had no casualties but some day might.

With whipping of my dragons tail,
I tear away all their ships sails,
they will go where I say,
or to masters wrath must I pay.

we've sent them running, all the clans,
I've not been told the master plan,
some day soon at the mountains base,
we shall see what will take place.

I whistle and dragons soar,
once again to our roosts door,
to see our women and drink beer,
and later on hold them near.

Pursed red lips,
survey the silent scene,
educated intelligence,
barely covers oozing sensuality.

In this hall of knowledge,
all that I seek to know,
leans upon a bookshelf,
a shoosh, locked and loaded.

In her glasses panes,
I catch my own reflection,
caught staring once more,
I smile that of a predator.

Mine is overshadowed,
by the licked lips and grin,
of an apex, about to have,
their favorite meal.

She turns and heads to the door,
silver skirt sways, like a cats tail,
on the prowl,
I sit and wait.

I am the end of the student animal
as it slowly squeezes out the door,
I expect to just leave with the rest,
but the door closes and locks me in.

A waterfall of raven hair spills down,
I catch my reflection once again
words start to come out of my mouth,
a single finger touches my lips, shoosh.

When I left it was sunny and blue,
90 miles later a blizzard I drove into,
from a warm 77 degrees,
to a 32 degree northern breeze.

Blowing snow and building ice,
slipping and sliding is not nice,
heater running on full blast,
driving slow going nowhere fast.

Then clears up and blows away,
we take off and think ok,
but down the road, it starts once more,
the weather wins, plus one score.

A river of pain,
trapped by a dam of pride.
fear of the unknown,
scared of the future.

What if's
terrifying,
anxiety, climbing,
questions?

But afraid of answers,
worries,
create other
problems.

A piercing of the dam,
by anything emotional,
leaking eyes, escaping fears,
one tear at a time.

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.

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.

Whether celluloid or pixelated screen,
it takes me to memories of the scene,
oh my god, what was I wearing,
do not remember what drink we're sharing.

Goofy grins or vogueing poses,
weddings or proms and lapel roses,
candid shots not meant for all,
or family portraits for the wall.

Moments trapped with bits of time,
to look now is quite sublime,
some of the people that were dear,
bring some tears, they're no longer here.

Laughter bursts out of my lungs,
silly children on ladder rungs,
upside down on monkey bars,
oh the youth, eyes filled with stars.

Look at this one, I had hair,
I'm bald now, so don't stare,
Tears and laughter as we look,
thumbing through old photo books.

Is COVID the end
of handshakes and hugs,
will we all work from home,
naked and sitting on the rug?

No more Mexican beer
with salt and lime,
because we are afraid,
and remember the time?

Will restaurants reopen,
for a sit-down meal,
or did we discover,
that pick up is the deal?

I may never go inside,
another big box store,
picking up here,
killed a grocery shopping chore.

Will schools reopen,
as brick and mortar places,
or will teachers and students,
just know webcam faces?

The great lockdown,
will be remembered as the years go,
how did it change us,
just have to wait and see how so.

Inside the drum the charcoal burns,
for dinner now, my stomach yearns,
seasoned ribs and chicken breast,
building a meat and wire nest.

Hang them now above the fire,
glowing bright, Viking funeral pyre,
place the lid and walk away,
6 hours to slow smoke today.

The cooler lid opens and it squeaks,
oh, by the way, it also leaks,
cold ultra to save the cals,
now just waiting on my pals.

The smoke leaks out, you should smell,
the aroma makes your tastebuds yell,
the downside though is the wait,
but its worth it to fill your plate.

So beautiful it hurts
pain so pleasurable
I wish to never blink

In darkness, I lay,
waiting for my eyes,
pupils dilate fully,
complete blackness.

A pillow under my head,
covered with a sheet and blanket,
there is a pleasant hum,
from an air conditioner.

I've no idea of the time,
or recollection of the place,
I feel in the bed,
another pillow I stack.

As I raise my head,
look down passed my feet,
I see... something,
hanging in the air.

A golden thread,
floats out of reach,
I study it hard,
to understand what I see.

It's very thin and not quite straight,
very small scallops curl it slightly,
it has a definite start,
and a definite stop.

I sit and stand,
I must know what it is,
with tentative steps, I drag my feet,
toward the mystery.

As I approach,
I feel air on my face,
I reach for the thread,
and grab and pull.

A massive amount of light
blinds me momentarily,
as my eyes adjust,
I remember.

Looking out on a motel parking lot,
the one I stopped at, exhausted,
just an hour ago,
judging by the bank clock across the street.

nightmare injections
stainless steel teeth
bite the gray matter

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.

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.

the barista grins
writes boss on the cup
a cure for running late

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.

We are but pieces with superglue,
holding us together, every day anew,
product of our choices made,
standing in our own growing shade.

But there are no shadows without light,
just look around at midnight,
the blackness is never truly complete,
as the moonlight gleams off life's street.

Ignited oil upon the griddle,
burning words, that mind fiddle,
confusion in meanings and context,
the futures behind me, but what is next.

The past is always tomorrow away,
and you live yesterday, like today,
the clock spins and unwinds,
yet you never regain the time.

The colors fade, but darkness brightens,
the grinning and laughter now it frightens,
the dreaded smile, and welcomed frown,
knowing that you never always let down.

Circular logic like a rubber ball,
always bouncing, but never falls,
sitting still in chronic motion,
sinking high into the ocean.

Occam's razor heals the skin,
Schrodinger's cat is always within,
The box is closed but nothing is concealed,
Cosby's Jell-O has congealed.

Where this goes,
everyone knows,
yet the knowledge is never learned,
and the ice fire can never burn.

Silver moon, silver back,
the beast guards her.

Thought, deeds, and evil needs,
lurk in the night.

In moonlight glow, his eyeshine shows,
keeping creatures at bay.

She is naive, and cannot believe,
that he is keeping her safe.

I took aim and pulled my trigger,
it went down fast, with no pain.
What did I **** you ask?
Time!

I like the ghosts and the voices,
but rarely do they sing rejoices,
usually bitter and always mean,
they always set a tragic scene.

My soul is bared though never seen,
with terror encapsulated screams,
the life's blood slowly spreads,
filling the others with unholy dread.

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.

Tired and weary,
introspective and teary,
with each drop from your eye,
purges pain, it's okay to cry.

Life has green pastures some of the time,
at others, there are hills and mountains to climb,
sometimes there is wind and there is rain,
occasionally those help to put out the fire and pain.

So no matter what cards are dealt in your hand,
set your shoulders and hear only your internal band,
dance on through life, let the problems slide by
don't take them inside, it's okay to defy.

Blurred visions,
seen through
prismatic lenses.

Iridescent scales,
shimmer romance
in turquoise waters.

Enraged waves,
froth the surface,
whipping kelp frenzies.

Lost in the rocks,
searching for nourishment,
crab claws open and close.

Reality closes in,
graphite imprints white fibers,
imagined colors drain.

Lost in the sketch,
mental vacations permanence,
shattered like a dropped crystal ball.

Swept into a pile,
but cannot be retrieved,
lost forever ephemeral.

A piece of soul cast by the sun,
follows me down the street,
closely on brick alley walls,
and long and running away in the wide open,
getting taller as the day goes by.

I am amazed as I watch it,
it is just like me, minus the detail,
It is a cross section of who I am,
just missing my inner light.

Perhaps this is a part of me
of which I am unaware,
it tries to tell me about itself
but alas, I do not understand.

On overcast days though
and into the lonely nights
I miss my ever present companion,
like a piece of me has been taken.

Whispers words in an ear,
fingers stroking far and near,
ice cubes traced upon naked skin,
hot breath blown through lace so thin.

Hot candle wax dripped in drops,
the pleasant burn you don't want to stop,
cold whipped cream and a roaming tongue,
a hand flat smack on her *** that stung.

Eyelash kisses like butterfly wings,
down her hip, as I untie strings,
with my teeth and with little bites,
searching her body in the night.

There is no spot I leave unexplored,
from her red hair to her feminine core,
thumbnail drug from heel to toes,
and tiny kisses on her nose.

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.

healing and cooling tears
aloe vera for my soul
which eventually heals.

So many thoughts and verse
on footprints in the sand,
I turn and look down the beach
a narrow bit of unmarked land.

Though I have been walking
for hours and steps untold,
looking behind me,
none of that unfolds.

Not a single footprint,
or a disturbed sand grain,
perhaps this journey
has been only in my brain.

The waves just keep crashing
licking at my feet
and the shells keep on changing
never miss a beat.

Green water out as far as I can see,
foaming here and there, glints in the light,
on my right, vine covered sand dunes
rise blocking further sight.

Out in front of me
the same as behind,
I continue walking
not sure of what I'll find.

Through Pink Floyd's Prism,
I hit the wall,
spattered into red, yellow
indigo, and other aspects of light.

Bent and twisted
through crystal diodes,
that power pulses
in the mind.

The beat kicks in
pounding my senses,
as I float, distant
sailing on the spectrum sea.

The bricks surround me
walling me in,
I am alone,
but I wonder
am I really?

Are others out there,
I long to ask my mother?
Perhaps they hide
in the darkness out in space.

The other side of the moon
promotes silvered questions,
that float like a balloon
into the eclipsed night.

Am I really here
flesh and blood
or am I just a thought
blowing in the solar wind.

sharp shards of glass
in the oceans salty sand waves
emerge rounded and polished
gems fit for a queen

Rolling fog,
riding sails,
hulls puncture waves.

Schooling fish
under the precipice
where fresh water falls.

Saltiness lessened,
mellowed and clear,
under sheer cliffs.

Mood stabilized
as nature communes
with and despite me.

Sweets for the sweet,
such a lovely treat,
but sounds like a tease,
offer a kiss, if you please.

Dripping her kisses through sugar cubes,
do not make them any sweeter,
it simply makes them easier,
to take, by the drop,
as a sip of her love,
will leave me drunk for days.

Fleeting love and lust,
explosions fast and searing,
the feelings imprinted in neurons,
like a nuclear blast.

Staring through reality,
at a point somewhere in time,
memories of you,
are simply sublime.

Tempering reminisces of her,
with bits of today's reality,
to keep them from scrambling,
and to keep me in the here and now.

Sound of snow,
a glint of light,
puffs of glowing breath,
an Iditarod morning.

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.

Never hidden from sight,
the moral authority searches,
anonymous no more,
as microscopes quests.

Looking for meanings within meanings,
if any inkling of offense is found,
expect a social media stoning,
nothing can be let go.

Satellites, traffic cams, on every phone,
there is no escape, no recourse,
desert islands are no more,
everything can be seen, even under your skin.

We can look to the beginning of creation,
Hubble's eyes see deep,
Keppler examining long distances
attempting to find other habitable worlds.

Tethered to sea creatures,
patrolling the dark and pressured depths,
it is a visual world,
and there is no escape.

Examining eyes, stare my way,
but these I don't mind at all,
baby blues belonging to my wife,
attached to a smile.

green wing teal fly by
underneath a clear blue sky
hunters stand ready

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

The smell of turpentine
as the needles poke me,
underfoot and overhead,
greens and brown surround me.

The lush carpet barely makes a sound
as the needles interwoven flex,
an occasional cone sits on the ground,
a glob of sap sparkles in the sun.

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.

Unbidden in the night
an idea sparks to life,
waking me from restful sleep,
with the impact.

The act of contemplation
sets the thought in motion,
slowly moving at first,
but gaining inertia fast.

Soon it is moving
close to the speed of light,
ricocheting around my skull
like a BB shot into a coke can.

Bouncing round and round,
and keeping me up for hours,
until finally, energy is spent,
and it winks out of existence.

Either because I have gotten up
and written it down, because it's good,
or it simply died of its own volition,
and I go back to sleep, as the alarm rings.

The pack on the move,
through crystalline snow.
silent foot steps fall.
a hush over the land.

Not a cloud overhead,
to shroud Luna's light.
moon shadows sparkle,
where paws have trod.

Trees  howl from the wind,
answered in unison,
by the pack,
a sad, forlorn noise.

Trees shed their load,
from the sound,
snow crunches,
as the howl fades.

Silvered eyes glow,
moving as one,
following a scent,
of pumping blood.

Steam rises,
nostrils breath,
bedded down deer,
surrounded,

In the mornings twilight,
red streaks on white snow,
will be erased,
by suns rays.

Ancient envy searches,
sprayed into the cosmos,
parasitic proboscis,
draining life force elixir.

Prismatic injections,
Geiger counter clicks,
purple glowing
black light smile.

Huddled amongst constellations,
hiding from the photons,
lost with the flavored quarks
on the jello shot tray.

Slurping jellied happiness
from humanoid masses,
on a plethora of planets
distributing diseased directions.

Turning paths to cliff edges,
the precipice calling,
fingernails bite in,
you dare not answer.

But the ringing continues

Love opens doors,
Transdimensional gates,
Transporting us to new lands.

Original experiences,
Shared together,
Traveling through time.

Essences blending,
Like incense smoke intertwining,
Flavoring our shared knowledge.

Potential,
a potent word,
rife with meaning.

Possibilities for growth,
stored energy contained,
a word determining the future.

My ears hear a different tune,
than others understand,
my eyes see into true depths of beauty.

Ancient secrets revealed,
in the burning flame,
all the answers concealed,
because we lost the game.

Titans will cheat,
to hide their truths,
you had the winning hand,
but you're lost, sitting in the booth.

They played their final card,
and picked up their winnings,
and were gone before you realized,
they stole our new beginnings.

Delight in whom, you are with,
contrite, try not to be,
try something new, Turkish delight,
kiss the one you love, deeply tonight.

The flavors delight the tongue, in a rush,
fingers roam and play, with a tender brush,
delightfully savor, all that is she,
love her with, all that you can be.

Delight her up and down,
from head to toe,
ignite her inner delight,
tell as well as show.

A verse to delight, with a little rhyme,
read it to her with feeling,
her delight will be divine,
and will leave her reeling.