My love shines brighter than the sun,
no matter how far, to you, I'll run,
sweep you up, into my arms,
give you all my tender charms,

With this promise, mine to give,
for our lives, with me please live,
share my house and my name,
forever can we play this game.

Loss and hurt,
hidden under my shirt,
completely shattered,
unpleasant and tattered.

A glass of wine,
music plays,
torturing myself
with memories.

Salty tears flavor
Gewürztraminer,
and lubricate fingers,
the glass harp I play.

A damaged heart,
from loves disappearance,
improves over time,
but is never fine.

The apocalypse approaches,
heralded on horse hoofs,
the dust of destruction,
kicks up behind.

The Antichrist,
War,
Famine,
Death.

Followed by the ultimate evil
be ready for pain,
and suffering,
and the end.

Deep in a creek bottom,
verdant and green pines stand still,
a gurgle, more felt than heard,
emanates from the flowing water.

Occasionally a small crack of a twig,
a footfall rustle, always from behind,
an imagined noise of the leaf,
as it flutters down from on high.

As the breeze begins
a low roar in the distance,
the trees begin to dance and sway
as it slowly closes in.

Then the chimes start,
hung in the trees by my mother,
years ago, a memory ignites,
each time they are touched by the wind.

Silver tubes flash from behind green leaves,
sunlight glints off them as they ride branches
moved by air and provide a song
for the dance.

Sticky fingers on panes of glass,
no sliding down to bust my ***,
waiting for the bugs to take flight,
will eat them all through the night.

So happy, I may sing a song,
chirp, chirp, chirp, its not to long,
with my tongue, I'll feast all night,
or at least until you turn off the light.

The ever present sweep of hands
in the great numbered circle,
slowly counting us down,
to the infinity of eternity.

The pendulum swings,
time passes by the second,
never to be returned,
some used, others thrown away.

Tick, tick, tick,
we hear it first,
then we begin to feel it,
then we begin to see it.

The iron grip
of the clock,
its hands turned to fingers
gripping and squeezing our youth.

Salty sweat flavors,
energetic encounters,
syrupy sweet kisses
poured from my mind.

My memories trigger
pulled by a photo,
firing off emotions
to decades soundtrack.

Big bangs, white rain,
her eyelids painted blue,
white polka dot shirt,
tight rolled faded jeans.

Restaurants and movies,
fogged up back seats,
the joy of exploration,
hits us like a bomb of pleasure.

Swimming and floating,
saccharine smooches,
as the party ball floats
pour it on me.

Bikinis and fireworks
as the night falls
into the bedroom,
Armageddon explosion.

The sun shines upon her face,
and she absorbs its cosmic power,
nourished, for now,
until night comes.

Dancing and spinning in Luna's rays,
as joy and passion grow,
the darkness allows
my feelings to show.

We sit by the fire to soothe aching bones,
whispered neck kisses and pleasurable moans,
the day is improving as is my desire,
the fire and I against you, conspire.

The chorus of limbs
climb to heaven's gates,
our quintessence clamors for entry
to everlasting euphoria.

The story we continue to write,
ink falls on and stains the page
through every experience
and decisions made.

White wedding lace removed,
and vest and cummerbund,
as our destiny begins,
amongst satin sheets.

Words hummed onto skin,
like quilled ink onto vellum,
I slowly write a story
with lips and fingers and tongue.

Cool conditioned air,
along with warm breaths,
raise goosebumps and tighten skin,
as your temperature rises.

A chorus of kisses,
sang into your pulpit,
as I preach my love,
for only you.

Kneeling at your altar,
worshipping my goddess,
bringing offerings,
I pray may be accepted.

This, the first time,
joined as man and wife,
unions made,
consummated.

Twinkling lights mirrored in blue eyes,
a group of carolers in the distance,
set a festive mood.

Hand in hand strolling,
the neighborhood lights entertain,
a few snowflakes fall.

Our lips meet,
tasting of hot chocolate and eggnog,
our heat defies the cold night.

Like a gift unwrapped,
love is given,
on Christmas Eve.

Like scenes from childhoods memory,
today plays out in slow motion,
with smiles and hugs and congratulations
on the day you get your diploma.

Though the path has been rocky at times,
fueled by hormones and arguments sake,
the love and honor I feel today,
is causing this parents heart to quake.

So as you walk the stage,
and climb a rung into the world,
be proud of your accomplishments
today wave your flag unfurled.

But remember life is a journey,
and this is but one of many strides,
do your best in everything you can,
and I will be filled with pride.

I tell the future
in my shapes,
for you to interpret,
and mold your fate.

Children's memories,
reexamined as an adult;
do not hold the same wonder,
but you long for those days.

The world is a crazy, rotten place.
you must find the light within yourself,
or perhaps another, that can light yours.

Just be you,
one of a few,
who don't follow the crowd,
live your life and proud.

The beginnings of confidence,
must come from within yourself.
usually, it is verified by others to grow.
but the first seeds must be planted, by you.

On the path,
there are stairs.
these are the easy climbs.

Other times, simply sheer cliffs,
that must be scaled,
despite the preparation.

The final bell tolls,
we knock on the gate.
St. Peter you there?
we await our fate.

Sandy footprints,
the only trace,
on the road,
of the human race.

That time will erase,
with the wind that blows,
and each rain drop that falls,
as time ever flows.

The cylinder spins,
only one round loaded,
her finger on my trigger,
my words whispered in her ear,
can poetry save me?

CLICK

Morning quiet, all my own,
a steaming cup of tea,
as poems grow in my mind,
and spill onto the page.

From mid-seventies
to the mid-thirties
spring and winter fight.

Costa glasses on my nose,
truck pointed down the road,
plastic worms and rods and reels,
coolers full, you know the deal.

Headed for some clear fresh water,
down on the Texas, Mexico border,
6 hours out of eddy county,
those bass are big and have a bounty.

Boat gassed up and backed on in,
ready to fight, hand to fin,
High-speed cruise to Evans creek,
down in the water, green silver streaks.

Trolling motor down and bait tied on
reach back and cast it long,
tequila worm, purple and black,
feel the line and rake up the slack.

Work it in, and cast it out,
feel a bite. Fish on I shout,
love the fight, feel the rush,
8-pound bass pulled out of the brush.

One of many for the trip,
pose for a picture, my buddies flip,
comments on Facebook all jealousy,
I reply should have come with me.

In the bottom of the quagmire
lays a pile of ancient bones,
no one ever sees them,
they are quite alone.

Once a man of vision,
who decided to hide his eyes,
so he could listen to the world,
and become more wise.

He heard the sounds of birds,
and they sounded nice,
he listened so hard,
he even heard the mice.

He heard the people's whispers
they thought that he was crazy,
others told him loudly
that he was simply lazy.

To blindfold one's self
and sit and hear all day
and to shun his work
when there are bills to pay.

Well perhaps they were right
so he left the house for a stroll,
but left the blind in place
with his life, he paid the toll.

On his first journey,
off listening his way,
into the quagmire he walked
and stays there still today.

The golden rays of the sun,
shine on the red fox
as she traverses the trodden dirt path
among the tall pine trees and disappears.

The smell of earth and leaf mold,
and the occasional sweet bloom
rise from the forest floor
in the summertime's heat.

A long dead tree stump
makes a great watchtower,
elevated and out of the dampness,
to survey the muddy creek bottom.

Below, a bobcat slinks in the shadows
down to the flowing creek,
rapid fire pink tongue
draws it in, to satiate thirst.

Suddenly ears ***** high,
and the cat flattens out,
a high pitched squeak
and motion in the pine straw.

The mouse emerges from its tunnel
on the other side of the creek,
a leaping bobcat is its last sight,
as it is carried away into the woods.

You danced through my beats,
you drank from my life's blood,
my valves murmured in your presence,
you took what you wanted, a bit at a time
I let you.

In the moonlight glow,
I see her painted toes,
as we lay on the beach,
her body is in my reach.

Grains of sand
grind between our hands,
with such force,
a new diamonds source.

From within my pocket, I draw a ring,
I lean over to her, as my heart sings,
slip the ring on her finger,
give her a kiss, that starts to linger.

The stars reflect in her eyes,
as she reacts to the surprise,
she rolls over on top of me
her smiling beauty is all I see.

With mumbled yes's into my lips
and roaming hands and grinding hips
engagement beach, the sky shines bright
I hold on to her with all my might.

We are each trapped inside ourselves,
only barely scratching the surface,
of others we encounter,
simply bouncing off the outer layers.

Confined within my mind,
with nothing well defined,
fluid movements of thought,
with no anchor point.

Floating on three axes,
no control, bouncing through x, y, and z,
ricocheting wildly, only,
when encountering my skull.

Do you ever wonder
if the ones you love
really know how much?

Are the hugs and kisses
and the words I love you
really enough?

The cards the gifts
and the trips
does it really show?

Is there an answer to this?
Is there any way to know?
Perhaps a bit of faith!

A little bit of hope,
that they always know,
how much love you have.

My zippered eyes finally opened,
and saw,
what I had looked passed
for ages on end.

The sleeper can awaken,
from dreams,
and walk amongst
the reality of life.

Those on the path,
must loosen laces,
and run,
barefoot in the grass.

We, tired and bound,
struggle with bonds,
slowly,
lubricating freedom with blood.

Golden lightning strikes
orange flames bloom like flowers
ancient man harvests

Give me a beach, on a jungle shore,
while it might take some work, it won't be a chore,
fishing for dinner, and gathering fruit,
building thatched huts with palm fronds for roofs.

Let me dig clams or mussels, or catch rays,
barter them with neighbors, a good catch really pays,
swap them for milk, a goat, or some meat from wild boar,
although we have no stuff, were not close to poor.

The crashing waves sing a rhythmic lullaby,
as I hang in my hammock and close my eyes,
my crab trap is baited to catch overnight,
it will be full, in the dawns early light.

So give me a beach, with white sand and surf,
I have no need of a house and manicured turf,
The salt spray and sun are good for my bones,
I'll be happy to sit on my sugar cane throne.

The living electricity flares,
reaching down from gray skies,
out of swirling clouds,
with its enigmatic claw.

It's mighty roar following each attack,
hearts stop, fires start, at its impact.
the world, engulfed in black storm shadows,
is revealed for a moment in a flash of release.

A moment in time,
burned into retinas,
as rain begins to fall,
and the wind whips.

Once more the golden fingers grab at earth,
a rumbling scream follows,
the storm drags itself across the landscape,
leaving glass fingernails embedded in the earth.

Office trapped all day,
longing for the outdoors,
clouds against the blue sky,
evening breeze to be felt.

Parted clouds reveal,
blue skies,
and fading sunlight,
night begins anew.

Kneel and pray
to gods nature,
a renewal, like spring
healing slowly.

Tears come fast and free,
enough to fill the sea,
hidden here behind,
the willow curtain clears my mind.

When life is hard to bear,
no one seems to care,
I hike into the trees,
a place emotions free.

The plants all understand,
as my tears water the land,
they are refreshed and so am I,
and I go on with this life of mine.

Words, thoughts captured and imprisoned,
poured onto paper and screens,
a piece of my soul, no longer free,
but that is okay, as it grows more,
when other people read them,
and their thoughts, start to pour.

Dueling desks sitting inside,
gates of heaven where they reside.
Dealing with the tides that flow,
and with dim bulbs, with no glow.

Guarding the gods from lesser beings,
dropping shade, most miss the meaning.
One brunette, and one, who knows!
either way, they run the show.

Each a beauty with cutting wit,
they can see through your ****.
and if you think that you are smart,
just wait for the, bless your heart!

Or something better spouted in greek,
I simply love their tongue in cheek.
A bit of crazy in their veins,
not afraid to cause you pain.

If you know how to be,
they are a lot of fun you'll see,
telling jokes, till you cross the line,
but come back later, you'll be fine.

In the end, this duo's supreme,
they float to the top just like cream.
Their laughter is music made,
and silky smooth, like fine suede.

Whitetail deer graze
as cottonwood blooms float,
like fairies on the breeze.

A distant rumble felt,
triggering turkey gobbles,
from the near woods.

A piercing noise shatters the silence,
slowly growing louder,
heads raise and look toward the tracks.

Sprinting toward cover,
the field now empty,
as the sound fades.

Hand in hand with another,
laughter and smiling faces,
seen across the restaurant,
as the stitch in my heart unlaces.

The full moon had shone overhead
but crimson clouds now blow,
the knife blade cuts deep,
from white to red goes the snow.

Acid rain eats through protective layers,
exposing raw red nerves of the past,
old memories now reopened,
new blood from old wounds sprays fast.

Simmering sadness in the pressure cooker,
now boils over with burning tears,
that had been sealed and covered,
entombed safely for years.

I slip out the side door
hopefully unseen,
my night turned to nightmare,
tonight, memories haunt my dreams.

Hidden meanings,
trapped in memories,
released by,
the piercing whine.

The rumbling tracks,
once punctuated by an
exclamation point of smoke,
now nothing.

An escape,
I jump on,
as it trundles by
to someplace.

Empty boxcar,
I hide in the shadows,
curled up in the corner,
waiting for where it stops.

Sweat running,
grass coated,
as the last whirr winds down,
the smell of gas and oil.

The **** eater is still now,
everything trimmed,
the wife on the lawn tractor,
knocking down the rest.

The smell of oil and gas,
newly mown grass,
and the hum and whine,
of equipment makes for a clean yard.

Crawling out of the sheets,
from where our fires did meet,
I am burned and sore in places
that still pleasantly tingle traces.

Our flames, burning orange
a low glimmering sight,
but given lust for fuel,
combustion to blue in the night.

Sparking friction,
crackling addiction,
conflagrations consume
but ours regularly resumes.

Our need to feed
on each other can,
never ever be met,
so we take what we can get.

Flinging words onto the page,
with automatic fire,
aiming at the masses,
it's them I must inspire.

Rusted red wagon bed
could never hold my pain,
now matter how many times
I loaded it up.

I towed it around
but it seeped out,
slow and steady,
out of its rusted holes.

Dripping to the ground
in small drops,
oozing back together,
reforming and crawling.

Heading back to my feet,
up my legs,
up my neck,
and in my ear.

Burrowing back into my soul,
which is its home,
and where it belongs,
as it is a part of me.

Down on hands and knees,
as the muddy surf surges around me,
the shells move in a choreographed dance,
there I sit, awaiting the next wave.

The smell of seaweed and fish invade nostrils,
as my eye hunts for the pointed serrated shape,
the telltale black on white colors,
the single toothed grin of a bull shark,

There among the crushed shells,
reds and blacks and the opalescent sheen
of the mother of pearl, long since crushed,
the shark tooth comes to rest.

Extracted from the sand and rinsed,
added to the collection
rattling in the black and silver,
old school film canister.

Later to be examined with my love,
poured onto a napkin and sorted,
by shape and size, and arranged
into an arrow pierced heart.

The muddy brown brook crawled,
through the supporting legs,
of the red brick bridge,
as clouds cast gray shadows.

The muted mumble of water,
squirming through rocks,
in the narrow shallows,
faded as I walked its bank.

Turquoise skies peeked through,
and golden sun rays spotlighted,
points of interest in nature,
as I followed the waterway.

Boulders of granite glisten,
as dew pooled and ran,
down the craggy sides,
augmenting the glistening of quartz.

Red ants and emerald beetles,
scurry over sticks and stones,
that littered the narrow trail,
I duck and dodge myself as I stroll.

Silver thorns on fresh green briar,
grab my blue jeans, sinking their teeth in
deeper as I struggle, piercing skin
and I feel a crimson drip begin.

Squirrels shout and bark at me,
telling me to leave, as I emerge
into the great devoid openness,
of the asphalt parking lot.

Reasons are needed,
to help explain reality,
but the truth is random
and chaos rules.

Ahab's horror would I be,
swimming around for all to see,
harpoon me if you can,
but I'll swallow you down, ship and man.

to the locker far below,
where I will spit out your bones,
in the darkness of the deep,
for all eternity will you sleep.

Though not a fish,
I will have fulfilled my wish,
to swim in the ocean's tides with tail,
I am glad to have become a whale.

Minerally tang
quenches my need,
my fangs retract
and my need to feed.

With singed wings, I soar,
looking for a place to land,
to soothe my burns and heal,
to be ready, once again, to face the fire.

Cold blades wielded
in hands just as cool,
the frigid heart beats.

The lonely moon traverses
the cold and lonely space
waiting to be touched
yet again by the sun.

The horrible sounds,
of master padlocks
fastening, click,
sealing out a former love.

Floating in my sorrow,
bobbing along in pain,
a memory trapped,
in a glass bottle,
and the sound of broken wings.

Rotting love's flesh in a circle,
revealing the truth underneath,
devoured by your injected venom.

My feelings congealed,
and oozed to the lowest point,
where I waited to be splashed,
into a thousand drops.

Imagined faces in water vapor,
changing rapidly to rabbits,
whites and blues and grays.

Brush stroke winds,
paint the creations,
floating overhead.

Green fronds surround,
I lay in the breeze,
and watch the evolving art.

Dangling above the world
I see dim movement from below,
a pendulum in the breeze
as I begin an intricate pattern.

Weaving back and forth
in outward motions
an angled filled octagon
begins to take shape.

Watching, more like feeling,
every movement, vibration,
comes to me in laser like
flashes, in reds and blues and greens.

Traveling down silken wires,
where I lurk and wait
manning my security panel
watching for a meal and danger.

An alarm flashes red on my panel,
I feel it coming from above me,
I slink into action
to see what my trap has caught.

A fat green grasshopper struggles
it's wings and legs thrashing as I approach
a quick bite and injected venom
slows the agitation, as I begin to wrap it.

Blue laser lights travel to me
from another quadrant,
I rush to find a lime green Luna moth
it's chartreuse eye spots staring in fear.

A bite and another,
white wrapped package,
left for me to enjoy
at my leisure.

In the closet,
under the bed,
down the well,
in a shallow grave.

Concrete and sunk,
to the bottom of the lake,
wood chippered and spread,
locked away in storage.

Fed to alligators,
or to sharks,
burned and ashes scattered,
hidden in safety deposit box.

Or coded in verse,
and placed in plain sight,
on some website,
that you live anonymously.

Searching for home,
places for the lost heart,
a key searching for a lock,
an arrow for its target.

To scatter one's, soul,
across the universe,
shotgun pellet style,
maybe effective.

But when and if,
the target is hit,
to gather one's self,
takes eons.

Wooden phalanges scratch,
skeletal sounds upon glass,
bark, the color of dried blood,
flaking and falling to the ground.

Distorted gold green moonlight shines,
through warped and broken windows,
creating an unearthly crawling pool,
slowly oozing across splintered boards.

A howling wolf wind raises hairs,
pure dread, as it batters never-ending,
threatening to knock down rotted walls
and beats through barely locked doors.

With a final lunge, the door collapses,
a cloud of dust browns out the night,
cloaked and fast, a faceless body dashes in
a scarecrow lands next to me, as I scream.

An ear-splitting peal of thunder,
follows a lightning strike
the smell of ozone
as the storm passes.