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

Down promised paths,
the treasure lies,
I hold the map,
it's in my lap,
but I dare not trust it.

***** traps have been laid,
and more than once I have been played,
so I proceed with caution,
and read the flowery lies,
at margins edge.

Tips and tricks and what fors,
all in riddle or in rhyme,
going forward step by step,
but taking my time,
and watching my footing.

Up ahead I see the prize,
that you promised with lies
but the closer I get,
the further it is away,
but not moving.

Finally, I get within reach,
and a final lesson you teach,
clear wall I cannot see but feel,
no clue to open it,
teased and stuck once more.

clouds billow across
turquoise waters rippling
Caribbean rain storm

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.

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.

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.

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.

The sirens serenade on Anthemoessa.
their song, a neon sign to an open door.
death waits, for those who enter.

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.

The music plays and you dance,
at this moment with no pants,
the bass drops with great power,
continue twerking in the shower.

The monster seethes,
with pure rage,
twisting steel,
for my cage.

Lips parted,
a show of teeth,
rough and jagged,
like a coral reef.

I grin at him,
and give in,
to his love,
original sin.

I do this only,
to gain trust,
and to allow,
for bars to rust.

Sleeping now,
the monster lays,
loosened bars,
from their stays.

Squeezing through,
I will betray,
the trust I earned,
and slip away.

I run and run,
and I'm free,
emotions high,
it is jubilee.

The sad rags hung about her frame,
she had played but lost the game,
on the streets now, she gets by,
on the edge but never dies.

Hope lives eternal or so they say,
the ones on the street simply pray,
one foot in front of the other,
trudging along even further.

Under bridges around fifty-five gallon drums,
they stand and warm with the other bums,
or that's what society labels them today,
they wouldn't be here if there was any other way.

So scrape and scrape, and scrape some more,
just to live and eat and score,
a bed here and a meal there,
that's why you see them everywhere

Trapped by predestination
but only within my mind,
prophecies to be shattered
by embracing free will.

The opaque box around me
shatters into a million shards,
lines of thought and paths of travel
open up before me.

The small minded stoop
and pick up the pieces,
hoping to rebuild the dream
of something for nothing from on high.

The smells of horses
and of leather and sweat,
the sparks of steel on steel,
the metallic tang of blood.

The whoosh of arrows,
the twang of strings,
the sound of banners,
whipping in the breeze.

Hooves pound and nays ring out,
the squeals of injured animals,
the shouts of men near death,
the silence between skirmishes.

Proving grounds of bravery,
and confirmations of the witless,
these fields can make a man,
or reduce a man to a shadow.

Gauntlets worn on blistered hands,
raised high with a blade in hand,
muscles clench as the broadsword
glimmers in the setting sun.

The victorious king
views the carnage
from the top of the hill,
and looks upon his new lands.

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.

Drooping eyes, but wired mind,
excited by coffee's caffeine,
longing for the silence,
only found in loneliness.

Karmic questions,
with no answers,
rhetorical thoughts,
always what ifs.

Questions breed answers,
which result in actions,
thoughts grow ideas,
watered with brow sweat.

Imagination skews reality,
eventually bending it to its will,
changing preconceptions,
quaking the status quo.

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

Resuscitating me to breathe,
pressing on my hearts strings,
raising my eyes, to a life bringing beauty.

Loving tears seep into crevices,
rehydrating and invigorating,
visions and smells of love.

Using breath to change my form,
like a glass-blower sculpting,
bringing out my inner glow.

Coaxing me into new shapes,
taking me to new levels,
with heated breaths and skilled hands.

Ankle deep water caresses us,
we walk hand in hand over the sands of time,
revisiting memories, literally and mentally,
vacationing on the beach where love bloomed.

To be folded into your love,
an origami sculpture of two hearts,
to sail away on a paper airplane.

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

Auburn hair falls on shoulders,
as she climbs out of the bed,
old Nolan Ryan t-shirt, her gown,
turquoise *******, a vision.

A little wiggle as she walks out of the room,
a treat because she knows that I am watching,
I can still feel the heat from last nights events,
and long for a morning repeat.

Now walking around teasing,
in fuzzy house shoes,
almost close enough to me to grab,
but giggling just out of reach.

A kiss and an order
get up, we have stuff to do,
I get up and obey,
with a pinch and yes ma'am.

Hidden lust behind the mask,
the come hither grin, and the lick of lips,
being someone else, inhibitions gone,
frees the self to try things, taboo.

Hands that hold,
love continues bold,
kisses, hello and good bye,
any reason when close by.

Nibble an ear,
just to be clear,
whispers of lust,
drive sparks to combust.

Fan the flames,
it is a game,
that you must play,
if you want to stay.

Be sincere and true,
in whatever you do,
straight from the heart,
continues now, just like the start.

The horizon should be flat and sparkling sand,
today though, dark snow capped peaks loom,
dangerous, with visible storms raging peaks,
causing avalanches down the sides.

Booming kettle drum rumbles,
golden firework flashes,
I count the seconds between,
as it gets shorter and shorter.

Soon the drops start,
pregnant water balloons,
exploding against the window,
a locomotive roar of the wind.

The last vestiges of sunlight,
blotted out as the mountain settles,
earthquake sounds blast,
and the house shakes and shivers.

Minutes pass to hours,
I'm not sure the structure can take any more,
then light begins to creep in the window,
orange and pink and blue of sunset.

I walk out onto the porch and watch,
as the mountain pushes off to the east,
and I survey the swollen soggy ground,
and the mess left behind the avalanche.

The precipice reaches out for me,
with gnarled fingers on bony hands,
tugging, pulling, forcing me,
toward the edge.

Freefalling into the abyss,
where words and verse form,
sometimes, rarely, maybe,
other times a gem forms.

Shining in the blackness,
plucked and shined,
and displayed,
for all to see and criticize.

Inside out light
from broken suns
surrounded by dark matter.

My mood is hollow
as the wind blows through
and whistles through my soul.

The inner music
somber tones
resonates in my bones.

A smile begins to creep in
as she walks in
and applies a balm to my sin.

Sitting in a purple tree,
with leaves of orange and green
the black iguana sits carefrer,
and contemplates a curious scene.

Below him on the forest floor
a steady line of ants emerge,
green ones from a red oak door,
with no walls and no floor.

Key ants? He wonders not quite aloud,
He drops down to try and see,
He launches his tongue so pink and proud,
and cathes snts, not one, but three.

Expecting citrus, **** and sweet,
as razored bites makes them pop,
licorice, yuck that is no treat,
he wipes his tongue to make it stop.

The other ants laugh with Glee,
the iguana turns from black to red,
extensor claws appear and ants flee
to late a swping claw strkes them dead.

Loves elixir flows,
from dripping petals,
an excited tentacle throbs
at every taste.

Aquamarine eyes hide,
rolled back behind eyelids,
skin as smooth as butter,
massage cubes roll under my hand.

Her green lipstick smile,
giving away her thoughts,
as pleasure overrides pain,
***** martini to finish.

A threat and a promise
all contained in truth,
walk the line,
as the ring of fire surrounds you.

From the peak of Olympus Mons,
I stare across the emptiness,
the distance is all red sand,
pocked by black rocks and rippling sand.

I float aloft on the Venusian clouds,
seeing nothing but gray mist,
that burns me producing red blisters,
as the sulfuric acid droplets play.

Hot, so hot, I begin to melt,
cold, so cold, I begin to freeze,
the fastest moving planet,
but the sun burned off its wings.

Now as far as I dare to cast,
I sit in the darkness on an icy planetoid,
the silence is complete, there is no view,
tiny dots of light mark the distance,
as we ride the cosmic tidal forces.

A salty wave washes over my face,
I am jolted back to reality,
the beach sand is rough,
and the golden sun reddens my skin.

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.

Love came and went,
simply wrong,
I'm sure it can happen,
I see others going strong.

A wild spirit,
roaming free,
someone is out there,
just for me.

While my belief has dwindled,
and the world is harsh,
somehow I keep,
a magic spark.

I am open,
and hope one day,
that I can find,
a love to stay.

Pain, love, sorrow, and much, much more
all contained in thoughts and words,
if they could all just fly away,
like a raucous flock of birds.

But instead, they visit me,
time and time again,
to peck and peck and peck at me,
like cold wet drops of rain.

Sometimes just one comes round,
I feed it seed by hand,
this I don't mind and manage,
problems are when many make demands.

They each take a piece of me,
I try to run and hide,
but alas I cannot,
because of me, they are inside.

Nocturnal creatures emerge,
owls and bats and others.

The Moon and Venus shine brightly,
just across the sky from Saturn and Mars.

Neon lights advertising sins,
*****, girls, smokes, and clubs.

Shooting stars barley seen,
red and blue lights flash.

a payment taken
hours and minutes and years
no refund policy

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.

Pupils burned,
retinas blown,
stared at you,
way too long.

The smell of beer and fears
catch my nose as I walk in,
the tinkling ivories music drifts
across the floor to me.

My mind is filled with stories
as the music inspires my mind,
I create a mental biography
for all the people here.

The smiling bartender
fills up the pianist's cup,
they share a joke and a smoke,
as a new song begins to play.

I feel I know these people
though I know nary a name,
they came here for something
we are all searching for a reason.

I walk over and drop a tip
in the jar on the top of the piano,
a wink from the musician
and a pat from the old man sitting.

De ja vu strikes
have I been here before
as I hear the old man
ask for a memory to be played.

Years and years of construction,
houses, businesses, shiny skyscrapers,
an earth quake shakes the foundations,
poor designs equals mass destruction.

Islands populated to the max function,
nuclear power plants on the beach,
resorts, palm trees and pools,
tsunamis cause mass destruction.

Through mating rituals and seduction
Earth's population increase by factors of ten,
little nature still exists,
a comet erases with mass destruction.

Draw inhalations
and breathe out rings,
as the bobber floats,
patiently waiting.

A swig from the flask,
against the mornings cool,
a bullfrog sings from the bank,
and the smell of lake mud.

Childhood memories
swirl up from the past,
triggered by location,
tastes, sounds and smell.

The cork is ****** under,
I set the hook,
and reel in just one more,
memory to be stored and savored.

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.

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.

My fire burns
In love and words
Never to be quenched
Until at last
The time has come
Everything and I am consumed

Nothing in life is free,
even the air you breathe,
is paid for in seconds of life.

From my seat upon the moon,
I hear the laughter of the loon,
see wings flashing of blue-green teal,
gazing upon a scene quite surreal.

With moonlight, I light the way,
Over open oceans albatross play,
In the blazing white Antarctic snow,
Emperor penguins black feathers glow.

Chickadees flit and perch,
the hunting shrike a meal to search,
The blue king fisher has one wish,
Clear water and a long plump fish.

Purple Martins sing and swoop,
Scissor tail flycatchers loop to loop,
The ostrich runs across the land,
But never buries its head in the sand.

Blue toenails,
red flip flops,
long legs,
beginning to tan in the springtime sun.

Blue bikini bottoms,
red strings tied on the side,
flat midriff,
a bunny tanning sticker.

Red bikini top,
with blue strings,
double bows tied,
across her back.

Blue glitter zinced lips,
smile at all the looks,
reflected in mirrors,
of oversized red sunglasses.

Red hair blows,
in the springtime wind,
gathering glints of blonde from the sun,
pony tail, ******* in a blue ribbon.

Sunlight glints off of the chrome wheel,
matching suicide **** attached,
beach sand powder coated Xpress boat,
bobbing in the blue water, waiting.

Trailing around the silver 90 horse motor,
is a yellow rope harness, like arms holding on,
a red ski rope stretches off into the water,
attached to a purple and black tube.

I hear an excited "ready" shouted,
a raven and a ginger-haired pair of girls,
hang tight like turtles on a log,
wearing blue and black jacket shells.

I fire up the motor, it purrs happily,
sending a stream of white foam aft,
I throttle forward and take off,
looking into the afternoon sun.

Suddenly I turn to the right,
then back to the left into a circle,
throttling the speed up,
shooting the tube out passed the wake.

Three more circles and straighten out,
watching the faces of the observers,
tells me the girls have just let go,
I spin around to pick them up.

They float grinning and laughing,
complaining of arms of gelatin,
as they climb in the boat,
the water dripping onto my feet.

***** of rubber bands, multicolored,
a *** of paperclips, a maze of its own
an old pink eraser, crumbling in the corner,
loose, Tylenol, Benadryl, Band-Aids, and a random stone.

Chap Stick, tape, and highlighters,
keys to locks unknown,
remote controls and toothpicks,
and shiny loose change, strewn.

Scissors, dust and a pack of gum
of the cinnamon flavored kind,
you can get lost in here
no telling what you'll find.

She sheds her robe,
as white lights strobe,
music booms real loud,
as screams come from the crowd.

She grabs the pole and climbs,
the scene is so sublime,
spinning and turning she slides down,
like a slithering serpent to the ground.

Then she pops to dance some more,
the crowd let's out another roar,
her body oozes sweat,
her hair hangs damp and wet,

Swirling hips and fingertips,
roaming hands and licking lips,
Neon flashes blue and green,
adding too the boys dream.

Red hair whipped side to side,
on a lap she will ride,
but only for a second or two,
lots of boys dreams to make come true.