Miles from nowhere,
I swam with the great whites,
swimming behemoths,
a ton of man-eating fish.

I touched sandpaper skin,
gazed at toothy smiles
& saw cold black eyes
& it reminded me of the city.

Thank God
I had a cage to keep me away,
'cause if wishes were sharks,
I'd ride one.

The first time
I slipped inside her,
I felt every single beat
of her fiery-heart,
inhaled her breaths
of fresh primal-air
& tasted the fragrance
of her gorgeous hair.

And in her firm grip,
the grasp of her pretty flower,
she swallowed my soul,
took me deep
forever.

Last night
in my neck of the woods,
I witnessed the death of six more stars.
Falling like lead &
glowing like the sun,
I watched them disappear,
get snuffed out quickly
into the darkness.
Of course,
I made my usual requests
& wished upon each one,
yet again,
I'm still wondering,
asking,
"Should I stay,
go,
or wait
for more to die?"

The needle reflection
glowed like a beacon
underneath
the streetlamp.
There I witnessed
the urchins
inject her concoction
& at once,
she floated right on past me,
higher than a kite.

We frolicked under the tears
of the Andean moon,
danced on cobblestone streets
in the sacred valley.

Our minds were laced
with fermented corn,
we connected to the gods.

And you,
you with your celebratory-nature,
changed my fate forever
with the flick of your wrist,
downed sweet memories
of the perfect world
nobody ever lives.

You kept him
alive in a sterling heart,
next to your own,
permeating passions
to be fulfilled
by hearty revelers,
and I did.

Dry cisterns hovering in space,
a neediness beyond the MACS0647-JD,
if we knew about those other galaxies,
we'd be gone in flash.

I saw his last moments,
he was screaming for his mother,
said he tasted aluminum,
to please save him,
to not let him die.

I had no idea a human being could sound like that,
but I guess when your missing your legs and *****,
anything less would not seem real.

It was his body-spasms
after he gave up the ghost
that I'll never forget.
FIDO.

The fire crackled oceanside,
sent sparks trailing
up into the summer skies
as we sat together,
counting the stars
one by one.

O Darling, it seemed
we were the only living beings
in the entire universe
& for that precious moment,
we were, two lovers
kissing inside our dream,
alive & touching heaven.

I saw Genghis in Vegas,
he was playing roulette,
winning big and grinning
in his Mongol-style.
I have to admit,
it was strange,
'cause I thought
he died centuries ago.

Then I saw Kurt
at the poker table
& immediately
I thought
perhaps
all of this
is an illusion.

Well, if I get the chance
to come back,
I'm gonna play
One-Eyed Jack
with Elvis.

These white rockers are awesome,
set up strategically,
right in front of the food court.
It's so appetizing
watching the people
stuff their faces full
while on the run.
The sushi bar
looks interesting,
think I'll slow down
a bit,
have a dish of raw fish,
pass the extra time
I have
due to my canceled flight.

Her T-shirt
matched
her Boston Terrier
named Lexi
& her flaming
red hair caught my attention,
her diction was perfect,
had emerald eyes
& a lot of *****.
She was heading back
to the big apple
to fulfill her dreams
of acting.
Turns out in fact,
I knew her mother's brother.
Man, it's a small world.

I've always hated thunderstorms
in the old neighborhood,
'cause days before &
even during the storm,
strange things usually take place.

Like the horsed-carriages
showing up at odd hours
throughout the night
over at the Frankenstein castle.
That's really suspicious.
Then the bodies
disappearing
from the local graveyards.
Talk about weird.
And that sidekick Igor
even gets kind of cocky.
The nerve of that guy!

The old doc gets so secretive,
he skirts around rather nervously,
pays us no attention
& acts like we don't even exist.
Wow, that's not very cool
to say the least.

And, when nature's fireworks
finally get started,
strange noises emanate
loudly from the dungeon lab,
ka-pow, holy-cow, ka-pow,
the sparks fly & power outages
roam across the community.
The constant surges
blow out bulbs
everywhere, too.
I lost three in the last tempest.

I insist he's doing
something creepy
over there!

I mean, why else
would a seven foot
green guy with stitches
be playing leapfrog
with the local kids
out in the Baron's backyard?

I'm telling you people,
I smell something fishy,
something just ain't right!

Do me with your ***** mind,
send clairvoyant visions
of suckling sheep running amok
in pastures of liquid honey.

Imagine intertwined snakes
slithering in pools of body oil
& running your toes
through hot tar
as I spin your pyramid
closer to the sun.

Dream about your
tight crumbling walls
******* the life
right out
of the living me,
fulfilling
your ancient-desire.

Only then you will see
the promised land &
eat tiny bubbles
on cream cheese.

My master Lu
teaches me
how to blend,
how to use
the art of deception
& imitation.

I gesture,
roll & tumble.
I jump up & kick,
use quick monkey hands
& I claw with ancient arts,
it's intoxicating
this drunken-style
Kung Fu.

Serpentine lovers
Relishing each other's joy
Dual sweet *******

We sat stoically together
connected by thin rope
on the tongue of the glacier.
Wrapped in warm feathers
like Michelin-men,
we deciphered
the operation of crampons
& giggled maniacally
about doing it with
stone-blue fingertips.

Headlamps glowed
as starlight glittered
off the ice wall facing us,
leaving traces of a million suns
burned into my retinas.

Frozen snot clung
to my moustache
like hungry ticks
and all I could think of
was sticking to the plan.

A short jaunt
across sixty-degree slick-glass,
then over the moraine
for eight hours straight up,
zigzagging to Heaven.

And standing ten minutes
in that sacred place,
we'd kiss cloud zephyrs,
dole out high fives
with splitting headaches,
crack huge smiles
with ****** noses
taking Kodak moments
before the six-hour descent
to hot chicken soup.

It's so easy for you,
so easy for you to switch off,
to shut the computer down
after a hard day's work.

It's so rough for me,
so rough for me to be tuned out,
to boot the computer up,
to see nothing there.

Not a single response.
Not a single comment.
Nothing.
Just your name
continuing to swirl,
perhaps captivating others,
breaking other hearts.

Acting as if you
haven't a care in this world,
And if my heart was as cold,
I wouldn't care either.

By the way,
I'm frozen love.
So don't you fret none,
as if you ever did.

Oh, I know, sure,
it's cyber, it ain't real.

The purple tracks
running up her arms
were a tell tale sign,
a roadmap of hell
to the death
she was travelling to
& no matter what I said,
her hollow
black-eyes spoke volumes
about the journey
she hated,
but could not stop.

I first saw her twisted braids
flying  in the air behind her,
she was spectacular,
a steady determination
flared from her eyes.

The blue water churned
from her steady strokes
as she pushed straight away
into the strong headwind,
a formidable force
to be reckoned with.

The power in her arms
were traced onto her muscular form
and she was gone in a flash,
like tropical-lightning.

I stared in awe,
had witnessed
a pretty lady and her shell
become one with the water,
as she disappeared
into the mist
so very alive.

It's more than just a silly game,
this thing we call love,
heartbreak
& I always go to jail,
while the rest of the world
quietly passes by.

You want to play war,
you think you’re so tough,
go ahead then,
I’ve got something
for your belligerence.
That’s right,
put up your dukes,
let’s fight!

O yeah soldier,
sniff some of my vapor,
inhale it deep,
get a good whiff.

At first you’ll get a runny nose,
probably try to rip off your clothes,
you’ll have trouble breathing
with a constricted chest,
as your pupils dilate,
you’ll make a confessional,
get blistered.

Then you’ll *****,
urinate & defecate,
soil your pants,
do the funky-monkey
spin spastic
& keel over
with a closed-throat,
stone cold dead.

You see,
I am the result
of diabolical science,
I’m manufactured specifically
to ruin your day
& I will.

I hear things,
strange noises buzzing,
they sound like
strange transmissions,
some secret code,
tap, tap, tapping in my head.
It seems to be at its worst
near electronic appliances,
especially in the morning.

The toaster spoke to me in static,
it offered me a slice of toast
& the fridge broke out
a tall glass of orange juice.
I swear, I am surrounded
by alien hospitality.

Secret codes,
hand-signs & shakes
rules his way of life.
He survives the strive
robbing virtues
& driving deathly missions
in a city of devils
& he does everything
for the club.

Colored-bandana-power
rules the small turf
where "La Razor" owns
two square blocks,
with his teardrop tats,
he's a real badass
packing heat
in his world
without hope.

Cold & alone
on a dreary wintry-morn,
I read Greensleeves.

She must have been
someone truly-special
for Him broken
to have written,
such heartfelt words.

O, the pain of love!

It's dreary today,
drizzling rain
& I'm warm,
so free.

I wonder what
concentration camp
cold rainy days
were like,
trapped in pain.

She's magical at first,
makes you feel
like a million dollars,
fills your veins with love
& then you abuse her,
crave her,
ride her
like no tomorrow
& she takes you down,
on her own racetrack
destroys your life
as payback.

The first time I smelled burnt flesh
it was a bit like cooked beef,
but more surreal.

It must have been the crushed human
skull it was hanging from
that made it feel that way.

For I could never recall any
family barbeque with such an offering
from which to reference my findings.

I am searching for the right words to flow
(do not fight me Sugar),
a configuration of hot stanzas,
or slippery free flow verse
to scribble,
to pen,
in an elegant fashion
(or maybe not so pretty),
to get my heated
sensual-point
across to you.
These fiery feelings
are scorching
my wanton-body,
they're raging,
all consuming.
My shaking-body is on fire,
it's a freaking inferno
up in here.
Ohhh Baby,
I want to loved,
squeezed really really hard,
adored like a king,
pounded incessantly
into a lovely
heated-submission,
where we both explode,
enjoy the most sacred explosion
in the entire universe.
The kind of explosive-action
where two internal fires
burn each other up
like gigantic sunspots....
So do you Darling,
do you Sweet Angel,
feel me trembling?
Do you feel my warm rush,
way up deep deep deep
inside your Heavenly gorgeous-body,
between your quivering thighs?
Ohhhh my God,
Alleluia,
do you see
the rising sun?
I can see it
in your incredible eyes
looking up and down
at me...
slay me please,
I can hear flowers sing,
I am born again!

Kiss away my awareness,
Sweet U,
take
reality
away.

Let's collaborate
& write some classics.

And if you only knew
(but of course you do),
how much,
how much I love.
I love to write,
you'd give up the fight.

No ***** mind here,
I'm not the least bit confused,
it's just pure infatuation
with this muse.

So let's collaborate
& write some classics,
we can start a series!

The alarm clock screams loudly,
seems so very angry,
so early in the morning,
but punching its button is soothing,
moves me right out of my bed,
it gets my blood flowing &
glowing to greet the new day.

The intellectuals can explain everything,
they have all the answers,
smart ***** in their own right,
they might last about sixty-seconds
in a real firefight.
Well maybe the intellectuals
should go to war.
After all, those are braniacs who invented
all those advanced killing machines,
the weapons of mass destruction.
Just imagine,
just imagine
how dumb
the world would be
without them.
It would be paradise.

All night long
we stared,
watched them criss-cross
across the frozen sky,
in between the stars.
And we thought,
wondered to ourselves,
in the greater scheme,
where are we really going?
Nowhere
or to higher places
other than the north face
of this glaciated sacred-monolith.

Shot out like spit,
discarded,
carelessly
they cover
the sidewalks
of our broken hearts,
beaten down
by loveless rhetoric
into submission
we are,
we are gold
covered in spittle,
by the broken promises
of thier endless lies.

Lines of oranges & reds & pinks
crack the blackened-skies
to bring us
another day
of existence.
As the warmth
of the morning star
permeates the cold,
she makes her arrival
in grand fashion
& brings us light.

The beautiful burning-disc
will make her rounds
yet again,
hurling supersonic
in light-year distances
not in kilometers
nor even miles,
those feeble attempts
by human-minds
to quantify the sacred.

For we cannot
be measured,
we are sacred
beyond all galaxies.
And as she continues,
continues to rise
into the heavens above,
my eyes burn
with the tears
of endless oceans,
a witness to her simple love.

Your shrill call
pierces the morning calm,
yes winged-one, cry out...
let them know you are coming,
proud hunter,
guardian of the sacred order!

It had been
one of those
microdot nights.

I woke up feeling
like I had run
three marathons.
All I could remember
was feeling good
& flesh-blurs,
those patterns of
sweet movement
etched on the inside
of my aching skull.

The bedframe
had been destroyed
and gossamer
floated from my mouth.
Magenta lip-prints
made a trail
down
from the middle
of my chest
to other sensitive-places.
It appeared as if
I had pulled out
all of her tail feathers
in the place she was lying,
a true fairy in repose,
I drowned in her spirit.

People at work look
at me in bewilderment,
they must think I'm childish,
'cause I have my fingers
in my mouth
all the time.

But I know better doll face,
it's an adult thing,
an act I love,
craving
delicious traces of you,
smiling devilishly inside.

She was sheer beauty,
in its purest form,
as graceful as a swan,
she floated on gossamer air.

Her gorgeous thick hair
sprawled magnificently
onto her delicate shoulders.

She was well endowed
with feminine-nicities,
certainly from the sacred above,
as peaceful as a white dove.

And she had the prettiest strawberry patch,
the tasty kind men fight & die for.
She makes me lovesick.....so hungry.

We always wait for some
semblance of change,
rotating them in and out
of their ivory towers
in fixed elections,
not meant for the masses,
this thing we crave,
this desire to clutch
it with our wrtetched hands,
working them to the bone,
feeding their technological machines
under this ruthless guise,
the advancement of humankind.
How long will we wait,
working twenty-four seven,
some three jobs
for peace?
Pray tell
while we wait pilgrims,
wait for the happy-Hobbits
to reach Isengard?
That might take forever...
and we,
We the People,
haven't got that much time left...

You imbibed like no tomorrow,
frolicked like a madwoman possessed,
jumped up on the bar strumming the air-guitar.
Your **** moves stunned the loud crowd
who undressed you with their eyes
while the tender simulated
doing you from behind.
The tempo began to quicken,
it began to sicken my stomach,
I had to intervene.

In a flash between songs,  
I lept to your side, took your hands
& pulled you from disgrace.
For the first time ever, I noticed
how pretty your sparkly-face truly was.
Despite the spirits, you seemed so full of grace.
It surely was the beginning of the end for me,
I was hypnotized by a drunken angel
& have never felt the same since.
I feel perpetually hungover.

Constantly, incessantly
I spin yarns
& simple stories,
complex allegories.

I'm infected
with the hex of gab
& it hurts to be
not so fabulous,
what some
might call me,
a human-reject.

I am not a poet,
just addicted,
afflicted with the
disease of
word-construction blues
& hues of red,
the spilling of
real blood
in twisted-verse.

Chipmunks gleefully
surround the pigeons
& a squirrel eyeballs
the seed around them
looking for a way in
without killing
their magical dance.

And the mourning dove
sings its approval
from heaven above
as the brown flash
scurries between them,
and the revelry continues.

Her hair color changes
like a kaleidoscope,
she adds gems & feathers
for the proper accent.
Last month,
she was neon mint,
this one she's pink.
I noticed she added
a nose ring
to complement
her pierced tips.
A zen tattoo for clarity
looks brand new.
Striking.
Her leopard leggings
match her vintage blouse
& feather boa.
It seems like every time I see her
she adds to her tapestry.
She is the epitome
of pure human art,
a living masterpiece.

I've always told you sweet darling,
it's the pretty-lace
that creates the initial stirring,
& when I push it aside,
it's the first ******
that creates the buzzing
& when we quicken
our fiery-pace,
it's the increased moisture
that creates
the spontaneous combustion
of our souls,
that creates our lovely mess.

The full moon slid
right through Orion
and I swear
it had
an effect on him.

He spun slowly around
to face Venus,
didn't say a word.

The moon's like that.
It can have
a magical-effect
on a guy,
leave them
speechless in love.

It's strange,
I mean like really weird
to see kids chewing Juicy Fruit,
eating Hershey bars
with nuts,
and smoking Camels.
Some are even handling
guns,
automatic weapons
held together with duct tape.

Your beautuful words
seep deep into my mind,
they touch my raw nerves
at the core level,
where my electrons spin circles
around my nuclei.

I can't keep my mind off of you.
I imagine us in all situations,
bouncing our atoms
off of each other,
mixing our chemistries,
solving sensual-mysteries
with the collision of our hearts.

She is by far
the cutest little lady,
her doe-eyes sparkle,
cut diamonds glittering
against her porcelain skin.
And her lips.
O her precious lips,
what medicine for my soul.
I would drink from them
forever
swallow her whole
& choke on her freckles
to feel her warmth.

He, the archdeacon,
kept me a spectacle
on his merry-go-round
of splintered wood,
whipped me
into submission
every chance she got.

She was disgusted
with my ugliness, but
enlightened my soul
with her kind-acts,
she was my gypsy-lady,
my lovely Esmeralda
and I the bell-ringer
of Notre Dame,
her hunchback,
broken & shamed
& in love.