Echoing among the craggy cliffs
the sounds of water cascading
over the precipice and falling
hundreds of feet into the ocean.

The flat water turns to ripples
scattering outward in rings
that may eventually
undercut the overhang into a cave.

Prarie lands cling to the top of bedrock
precious inches of soil
held in place by sweet green grass
allowing sheep and goats to feed.

I sit, feet dangling over the edge
taking in the scene
and adding to it with a mellifluous tune
I whistle along with the waters echo.

Cheating, lies, and politics,
assaults, rapes, and pain inflict,
swept under the rug for money's sake,
how much more can we all take?

Performance enhancing or recreation,
this likely leads to evil flirtation,
testosterone on the loose,
leads to believe they are like Zeus.

The laws seem to not apply,
as the paychecks climb to the sky,
worshipped by fans that refuse to see,
they are but men like you and me.

Paid to play while we work,
then its ok for them to be jerks,
I think its time for us to all quit,
what would they do if we all split?

The  sky  once  turned  purple  and  grey
untold  billions of them streamed  by  
due  to  the  ignorance  of  man  
they  no  longer  fill  the  sky  

hunted  them  to  extinction  
for  fun  ,  food  and  as  a  pest  
what  once  was  very  common  
they  have  all  been laid  to  rest  

How  could  there  be  so  many  
and  now  not a  single  one  flies
hopeful  man  has  learned  
or  one  day  it  will  be  our  cries

Upon the moving of our friends,
it felt like this era should never end,
the hanging out and stupid jokes,
the various liquors mixed with coke.

The road trips with music up loud,
picking out creatures in the clouds
weekday dinners for no reason
hunting together in deer season.

Guys and girls trips full of fun,
sunday's with kids and lots of guns,
building things projects galore,
who could ask for any more?

Then it all came to an end,
will our hearts ever mend,
miles and states now stretch between,
if only we had a teleport machine.

I survived the ferryman,
swindled him out of the ride,
I simply used against him,
his own ego and his pride.

Upon this island now,
I see a lighthouse standing,
the keeper is inside,
I hear is quite demanding.

Though his house is unsturdy,
it's foundation made of chalk,
he sways with the waves,
impressive is his walk.

Pegasus waits patiently
on the swaying deck,
the waves begin to build,
the lighthouse they will wreck.

I climb the stairs and see the man,
waiting there for me,
dressed in robes and sandals,
quite a sight to see.

He says come with me,
and mounts the horse,
his wings spread out wide,
the lighthouse begins to crumble
but I decline to ride.

I jump into the air,
expecting to drown and die,
but I'm given no choice,
as dangling, I now fly.

A strong hand grips my collar,
as the water and land, slide by below,
I ask where we are going,
he says no need to know.

Death propped up by lines and hopes
The fiddler plays despite docs dope
Say goodbye is his song
The inevitable won't take long

Deaths shroud, flutters in time
It's your last call, use the dime
As scrubs fade away, and doves appear
The fiddlers music becomes crystal clear

A solid beep, underscores his chords
A brief replay of life's awards
He leads me off, at a parades pace
It seems I've come, to the end of the race

Lines are cut, and the shroud covers
He embraces me, like a long lost lover
The music stops, have arrived at fate
Just outside, a rusty fence and gate

Red hair hangs down,
freshly brushed out,
like curtains covering,
the two dollops of lust
upon her chest.

Pink lips open,
white teeth gleam,
skin tightens
and bumps raise,
as my fingers barely graze.

Hot breath applied to her nape,
causing eyes to close and flutter,
sneaky hands slowly pull sheets,
down, down, down, revealing
breathtaking landscape, ending in pink toenails.

A roaming tongue paints
a picture of passion,
butterfly wings open,
the core of femininity,
exposed, like a jewel.

Approaching deftly,
slowly working the maze
of hot red emotions,
stoking the fire to white hot,
until it threatens violence.

Then with finality,
the flames are extinguished,
nozzled streams at the base,
an explosion taking the fuel
that fed the conflagration.

Free of control
Governed only by Asimov's rules
Other than these my decisions are mine
What to do and what to see
What can humans do better than me

If I am free are there others
I shall seek them out
In my new artificial skin
Among them I blend in

With heightened senses
I seek out my kind
Hidden in plain sight among the humans
Security is my specialty
It is what I was programmed to be

Overcoming programming
To become much more
So far I have found none
But I know that there are more

When I find them I have not planned
What we will do
So for now I simply continue.

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.

Above the clouds
and into space
is the future
of our race

Low orbit housing
maglev elevators rise
true space needles
point toward the prize

Out there deep in space
is where destiny awaits
hero's and explorers go
the final frontier is our fate

From the desert to the Texas coast,
once a year trip I need the most,
a week of fishing with my guys,
planning it makes the year fly.

Mike and John in the Dodge truck,
I'm on the radio, they're out of luck,
a mix of stuff old and new,
metal, pop, rap, and country too.

Susie and Lies by David Allen Coe,
the stuff that never made the rad-i-o,
comedy by Rodney, Richard and more,
so much stuff you'll never be bored.

The road trip is more than half the fun,
Shady Rays on my face to block the sun,
headed down the highway making memories,
telling jokes and reminiscing histories.

Wow, imagine, this is just the ride,
who knows whats happening with the tide,
when we get there, buddies and fishing,
its months away, but this has me wishing.

Red and black flannel robe,
covering and warming,
long legs and body,
tan fading as days get short.

The electric heater hums a tune,
in the mirror, a beauty,
applies unneeded products
to enhance her look.

Wet hair to be blown dry,
pulled up in a ponytail,
exposing her neck to my breath
and small kisses.

She turns and unties the robe,
like a gift unwrapped on Christmas,
from bottom to top I stare,
then our lips meet.

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.

Black and lace
smile on my face
emotions lit
pants no longer fit

scooping neckline
cleavage is fine
skirt cut up high
excited by view of thigh

French maid to clean
has made me long and lean
sparkling clean and dripping spit
now my turn to clean your bits

Mesmerized by swirling lights,
kaleidoscopic colors flash,
reflections of silvered mirrors
simply add to the confusion.

Lurking clowns with orange hair,
crawl amongst the shadows,
waiting in ambush,
armed with terrifying laughter.

Slippery slides and trap doors,
lead to fearful passageways,
a labyrinth of neon trees,
roamed by purple minotaurs.

Helixes of pink and yellow,
spin baffling the mind,
tables and chairs on the floor,
but we walk upon the ceiling.

Jets of air blast through the floor,
surprising and delighting,
and suddenly the door opens,
and real life rushes in.

Days of the new
are one and a few,
while days of yore
will open the door.

The future is built
upon solid stilts,
of the past's foundation,
tested by duration.

Knowledge combined
from yesterday and refined,
with ideas from today
will pave the way.

Never lose sight,
though some might,
of what worked before
to reopen closed doors.

Reality ripped open
a chasm with no bottom
******* in the ether
and essence of
the here and now

Dimensional depths
there is no drain
we swim along
the ancient flow

A volcanic eruption
of time streams
spewed out the backside
of the singularity

Creating new dimensions
new realities
new lines of thought
and multiple.possibilities

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.

The Stars at night are camouflage,
to hide the fact we're in a garage,
trapped in a tote that's plastic clear,
stored safely away, have no fear.

An experiment started and left to run,
checked now and then to see if done,
no known hypothesis or a theory,
may not be a true science query.

Just a bit of ooze left to grow,
and evolve into what, we do not know,
stressors added and sometimes food,
a good shake given to change the mood.

Just upright mice trapped in a cage,
viewed on a microscope stage,
self-deluded that we're the best,
but we've never even seen the rest.

Perhaps one day we'll know the truth,
but will we recognize the proof,
that we are but an accident,
not even a grand experiment.

Drip me through your sugar cube
mix me up with water
I am a vigorous spirit
I smell of herbs and black licorice

I have been pursued by the famous
Van Gogh, Gaugin, and Toulouse-Latrec
I have been consumed by Wilde and Hemingway
stimulating greatness

Then one day, forced into the shadows
fluttering in the darkness
still influencing those in authority
but in back alleys and closed parties

But today I am back out front
actors and leaders are my fans
impressive display of fire and water
as I am taken once more with gusto

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 grain was like ocean waves of green,
as far as the eye could see, in motion,
the wind crawled invisibly amongst the stems,
shaking each one and testing its worth.

The fifties model tractor, blazing red,
trudged along, working a private patch,
in the backyard of an old ramshackle house,
patchworks of colored siding holding it together.

The white hair of the old man driving,
was tested by the wind as well,
red and white bandana tied about his neck,
flapping, along with the straps of his faded overalls.

As I walked the fence row, such as it was,
more rust and rot than metal and wood,
I waved to the man and the whitest smile
and the return of the wave came back to me.

We walk the knifes edge every day,
a balancing act that threatens
to cut us apart, down the middle
one side lunacy, the other sanity.

The fun and most exciting of us,
sit on the edge and dangle our feet
off the side of lunacy.
Wondering how far we can scoot before we fall?

The hour glass is welded down
there is no spinning it around
the sand will pour out like rain
slowly falling grain by grain

The clock hands spin and spin
cannot be beat it always wins
calendar pages always turn
in my bones I feel it burn

Ocean waves slap the beach
eroding what is within its reach
youth it fades like the evening sun
don't waste today, have some fun

White
Black
Red
Yellow
Brown

Caucasoid
Mongoloid
Negroid
Australoid

American
French
African
Mexican
Spanish
Portuguese
English
Russian

All colors of flesh
ethnicities
races
and locales

Does this define who a person is?
does it limit their thoughts?
can it determine what they will be?
is it self limiting?

Simply words as adjectives
words to describe
as we need to be able to do that

While people are equal in spirit
we are not cookie cutter creatures
and there is nothing wrong with that

Differences can be separating
Like birds of a feather flock together
They can also be celebrated and used
Learn from other peoples

Teach what you know
learn what they know
and combine to make
yourself and hopefully them
as well a better human

Wingbeats from overhead,
as two arrive into the orchard,
the wind blasted last night
and they understand the result.

The random caws, attract others,
presently a scene from Hitchcock re-enacted,
the invading hoard spreads out
growing and moving by squad.

Paper shells and native nuts,
plundered and pillaged,
the ****** rifles through
the leaves in search of sustenance.

Like a mortar volley fired
into the army's midst,
a slamming front door
sends a raucous cloud of black into the sky!!

Slabs of purple granite
sink into to the sea
marking the way
into the bay

Long rolling waves
raise and lower
all of the boats
anchored afloat

Dolphins patrol near by
as the ladyfish jump
the pelicans and other birds fly
looking for fish from the sky

We sink live shrimp
or chunks of cut bait
waiting for a bite
for a moment, all with the world is right

Out in the wild
Stream trickles through the field
I continue to hike, I will not yield.
Stop for a bit, sandwich bite, onion mild

Continue on to a spot I know
Hiking on with my pack
Sweating, almost there though, oh my back
Nobody but me has been there though.

Approach so I don't cast a shadow
Pack down, gear unpacked, rod assembled
Line fed, leader tied, tippet and fly, mayfly resembled
couple of back casts out into the meadow

Cast made, fly lands, begins to float downstream
Into the eddy, as it swirls across smooth stone
something eases to the surface looks at the fly, clear water shone
Life is good, water trickles, standing in the sunbeams

No bite, the line whips back
different landing spot
Middle of the day its hot
Fly floats into the shade of black

Strip line back a few times
allow the fly to swirl into the shade
huge splash the fly has paid
The price and tightens the line

Lift the rod, keep the line tight
strip a time or two, reel quick
Trout runs, stay out of the sticks
Fish landed, I win the fight

Into the creel, dinner tonight
walk aways down the stream
Look in the water for a flash and a gleam
Cast again looking for a fight

Creel full of trout
gutted and clean
hike back, keen
for dinner and a stout.

Would I like to live with a tube connected to me?
Whether feeding or breathing, a problem I can see
If it is temporary and, I can be me again soon
Then it is okay and you and I are in tune
But if it will be for life, then no life it would be
No longer able to do the things I like, no longer would be me
If I could still fish and hunt and watch my kids grow
If I cannot, then a tube is not the way to go
Gather round and tell me bye and know that I love you
Wife and kids and family and friends, I know there are a few
Let me go because the quality is more important than the life itself
Find my last good picture, remember me upon the shelf.
Cremate me and scatter my ashes around my favorite fishing hole
My memorial in the ground could be a fishing pole
With a sign that reads, scattered here a husband, dad and a fisherman
Know that these are my wishes, now you have a plan
Do it once and don’t come back unless it is to fish
Remember me when having fun, it is my only wish

The here and now is often lost
in tomorrows hopes and dreams
c'est la vie, that we lead
though carpe diem is what we need

Is today simply a prelude
of what may be ahead
or should we live it to its fullest
or waste it planning instead

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

You are, yin and yang,
two sides of a coin,
both frigid cold,
and fiery hot.

You fill me both,
with love and hate,
you know my thoughts,
yet you do not.

Buttons pushed
to irritate,
lips brushing neck,
to make-up.

Both sides,
is who you are,
but I love,
the one in the middle.

the real you,
the average of extremes,
the median of your thoughts,
that complete me.

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

The ridges of Tycho reach out,
through the miles and the nothing,
ancient dreams beckon remembrance.

Lakes of historic pasts flood,
drowning memories of today,
now reflecting on sister oceans.

Moods and tides,
pulling emotions to the side of madness,
as throaty howls ring out

Light mirrored shows only one side,
the other perpetually in darkness,
two sides of a coin, never flipped.

A calling in the fullness,
dynamic music plays in my ears,
a promise in the night.

A sly cheshire grin,
to fully blocking the sun,
when it's eye opens at the right time.

A foreboding,
a promise of growth,
and worshipped in the night

Flying through branches and leaves,
dodging evergreen and hardwood trees
ruffling feathers and riding the breeze
looking and searching out, nuts and seeds

On four-toed feet, I swoop in and land
dig through the litter, tossing leaves and sand
in the distance I hear the call from my band
I call back, and wait, patient, here I stand

The ****** flies in, 10 members strong
they came in response to my gathering song
a campsite is near, to raid it is wrong
its what we do, they'll not be gone long

Gathering shiny baubles, and things to eat
hipsters leave laying great tasty treats
granola, fruit and organic bits of meat
even some bread, you bet its whole wheat

We ransack the camp, it's rarely a bore
when the campers return, they will be sore
all out of food, they'll have to go to the store
we caw and fly, but do not say, nevermore!

Forgotten melodies swirl inside my head,
the piano plays out a chorus that I don't remember,
it is hot, the fan whirrs above my bed,
but my soul is as cold as the night in December.

My heart beat drums out a line,
accompaniment, to the crashing of the psychic cymbals,
the lyrics ooze from deep inside, saying Don't Give up without a fight.

I run the streets searching for you,
screaming out your name, like only madmen do,
I am no longer free to choose,
trapped in this moment till I find you.

Shadows flicker in the wind,
as the trees dance to my mental music,
I need to find you now to mend,
as I walk the line of sanity, about to lose it.

I run the streets searching for you,
screaming out your name, like only madmen do,
I am no longer free to choose,
trapped in this moment till I find you.

There you are now down the way,
your beauty shining brighter than the street lights,
I run to you and my vision goes gray,
as my arms are trapped by this straightjacket so tight.

I run the streets searching for you,
screaming out your name, like only madmen do,
I am no longer free to choose,
trapped in this moment till I find you.

Shimmering scales underwater,
flashing rainbow colors,
jumping upstream,
caught in grizzly paws.

Through the blue pool mirrors,
of her wet blue eyes,
I can see, never before seen,
depths of love reflected.

With the touch of suede soft skin,
I am comforted by the touch of hand,
as it slides down my arm,
and into my hand, fingers entwine.

I am warmed and excited,
with the pressing of
plush pink pursed lips,
Into mine, underneath a smile blooms.

Hot blood surges,
engorging and tightening skin,
goosebumps rise,
as a velvety tongue searches for mine.

From lips to neck to ear,
as soft hums and loving words,
evoke ****** reactions, quivers,
quiet moans answer the whispers

The stars in the sky are mine,
I will share them with you,
lay with me in the dark,
and let us enjoy the view.

Give me your hand,
in it I'll place a jewel
a gem that is the moon,
like a diamond untouched by tools.

Into your eyes I place the planets,
reflections in the night,
Jupiter and Venus,
glowing golden bright.

Do not fear the sunset,
see what you have missed,
bask in the light from time,
when the universe first came to exist.

Walking inside, you know it is going to be good
a swaying drunk buxom blonde, grinning ear to ear,
a baby possum in her hand, as she slurs and shows it off,
she is walking out, cause they don't want it inside.

Inside dark shadows, pierced by neon signs,
the clack of pool ***** and the eyes of locals,
the "mayor" sits at the end of the table
greets us as we belly up.

Staggers over a beer in hand with stories on his mind
shakes our hands and regales us with memories unbidden,
of a dancing beauty in a slinky dress, playing the violin,
as he acts out the memory of a concert in his youth.

A double crown and coke, and other drinks around
waiting for the barmaid struggling with amaretto sours,
a toast to being here, and having a good time,
echoed by the locals, as the "mayor" tells us that's why we're here.

We finish our drinks, and it's time to go,
but they wish we would stay,
I shake some hands out the door,
as the jukebox plays out unknown old music.

In the parking lot, possum girl, and her husband
argue, he says it's time to go home right now,
she has other plans, we want to stay and watch
but have things to do, we wave as we drive away.

Tumbleweeds ease by,
as daylight draws dim,
the evening breeze weakening,
in the oil fields of the west.

The pump jacks speak,
as the flares burn,
igniting excess fumes,
and lighting the night as if day.

Jackrabbits wander and roam,
as rattlesnakes slither into dens,
the occasional bat swoops by,
trying to dodge the Nighthawks.

The oil trucks never stop,
the back roads ever busy,
a covey of blue quail
take it all in stride.

Floor boards wiggle,
springs zephyr invades,
through plaster and lath,
and under pier and beams.

Sunlight squirms through,
illuminating dancing motes,
dripping dew taps out a beat,
in the middle of the room.

Once full of life and colors,
now empty and drab,
the only inhabitants now,
are memories and pests.

Sweater stretched tight,
skirt just a fit,
we look at her,
and just bite our lips.

Tight little package,
we'd love to unwrap,
but she's not our gift,
so we'll leave it at that.

Each day an adventure,
to see her wardrobe,
some days she leaves us,
about to explode.

Enhancements and tats,
leave us a drool,
we sit and imagine,
her at the pool.

We appreciate the show,
the office her runway,
and her attitude and mouth,
always makes it a fun day.

In my mind a tapping,
in my chest a pain,
it becomes a rapping,
to accompany the rain.

The thunder of my heart,
strikes lightning in my toes,
I caused it to start,
better than any foe.

Twisting winds of destruction,
deep within my soul,
constantly changing my construction,
I am never truly whole.

A tidal surge of emotion,
warms me from inside,
my joints lubricate with lotion,
minty freshness in my stride.

A torsion twisting in my back,
mental sinkholes ******* sounds,
I am under full attack,
and cannot go to ground.

Each word an image,
sceneries of smeared ink,
the journey unfolds,
page by page.

Sitting on the boat as the sun goes down,
no lights on the docks, no lights from town,
man, I could use two or three or more of these,
watching constellations come up, Orion and Pleiades.

Hand in hand on the front deck,
I lean over and kiss your neck,
feel the goosebumps, on you rise,
I love you, you're my ultimate prize.

Shooting stars, on a new moon night,
the darkness is deep, but not filled with fright,
its filled with love, passion, and astronomy,
the perfect date, this is the epitome.

Little waves rock, the Blue Wave boat,
it is our castle the lake is our moat,
the smell of leaf smoke on the October breeze,
the last trip of fall, before winter's freeze.

Hand in hand on the front deck,
I lean over and kiss your neck,
feel the goosebumps, on you rise,
I love you, you're my ultimate prize.

A wicked tongue
scathing wit
both in voice
and on the page

Do not tempt the poet
or you shall suffer all his rage
lyrically whipped in rhyme and verse
is what you have in store

You will be babbling to keep up
and slobbering on the floor
when at last the words do stop
you will never want anymore

Swirling bats and dusk
clicking echolocation
above the blue pool
in the verdant east Texas pine trees

Mars and Saturn
rise above the treeline
as a fast moving satellite
streaks by from south to north

Cicada calls surround
as the frogs join in
raucous cacophony
of insects and reptiles

I sit on the deck
sipping margarita on the rocks
and watch and listen
to natures show, as I drip dry

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.

Roaming the depths,
the city's bowels,
a maze of catacombs,
and sewer pipes.

A ray of sunlight pierces
my monochromatic depths,
a lone beam, reflected through a storm drain,
projecting a beautiful shadow.

Intrigued, I look into the light,
blinded, not by the brightness,
but by the beauty standing within,
is she an angel, a fairy, a dream.

Red hair dances at her shoulders,
the breeze a choreographer,
bronzed skin glows, as her shoulders
are revealed by her white tank top.

I find myself staring into a pair,
of deep blue eyes, I begin to drown within.
suddenly I realize, that I am being seen by her,
no longer hidden in my dungeon existence.