Icy winds blew
along the wharf,
as three men mixed
for a quick conversation,
exchanged money
& a loaded gun,
then dispersed
like the ocean spray.

Later that night,
Davy and Ian were shot
point blank in the face,
with no witnesses
but the gulls shrieking
above the dockyards of Belfast,
a place where some paddies
pay with their lives.

I saw the twin towers tumble
on the back of a bus.
And that toothy evil-grin
pointing the way.
And it seemed,
it seemed
the people bowed
in reverance.
I was definitely
not in Kansas anymore.

Thinking of you,
I push your lace to the side
& thump to the beat
of a different drummer,
but still,
my motion
is methodical
& deliberate,
somewhere between
rock and roll and jazz.
Can you feel my beat
doll face?

I wish
I had the cure
for broken-heart
outbreaks.
I’d make billions.
It’s pervasive & so widespread,
like an epidemic,
I’d always have sad-customers
to feed my bank account.

O Dear Miss Molly,
can you meet me?
Can you meet meet me
in the upper hallway
after supper,
and begin
a lil' sin?

And O Molly,
can you please wear,
can you please wear
your cute
French outfit
without your
******* on?

O Sweet Miss Molly,
I'll unscrew the bulb,
sweep you
off you feet,
playing deeply
in the shadows,
be your loving butler.

It's that first kiss,
that first touch
of bare skin,
the first taste
of raw honey
that seals our fate.

Once smitten,
bitten by the lust-bug,
one is never the same again.

We can cry about broken hearts,
the agony of rejection,
all the pain we've had to endure,
but we can never deny
the reality of the physicality
derived from such
pure primal pleasure,
never.

Do you hear the thunder, Grasshopper?
I am it's soft whisper
wrinkling your ear,
the chill that runs
down your spine.
I am come
& I beseech you to listen.
I trace your footsteps
when you're not looking,
carry all the keys to heaven.
I can bring you hell,
smile behind the knife,
can **** with a borrowed sword.
The plum I will burn
to save the peach.
And I will resurrect a corpse
to raise an army of souls,
for I am the Lord of eternal darkness,
I breath the ancient arts,
I am a shadow,
I can strike
when & where
I want to
& you cannot stop me.
Do you see the lightning, Grasshopper?

I watched her disrobe from afar,
mesmerized was I
hidden amongst the papyrus
as she stood bathing
in the cool Nile crystal waters.
As beautiful as all the Heavens,
her skin glowed milk
below her burnt
cocoa ringlets.
Goddess cheekbones
graced a delicate smile
of teeth like fine jewels.
The curves of her hips
were finely shaped,
sculpted from
the prettiest Roman marble.
Beautiful acorn-*******
adorned
her delicious
apple-shaped *******.
A trace of dark wool
enveloped her flower
blossoming
between fine firm legs,
made from
the stoutest of cedar.
I stood silent,
watching in awe,
as her delicate
fingers circulated
her moist fineness.
And when she sighed
in bliss,
I released
my own satisfaction,
kissing the air &
swallowing her fragrance,
trembling
downwind
from her sweet Jasmine scent.

Bamboo creaked
as the gentle breezes
licked us.

I swayed into
your split kimono,
the beautiful sound
of happy songbirds
hid our muffled sighs,
me bleeding fine silk
into your warm thighs.

With our eyes clenched,
we giggled,
listening
to nightingales
singing softly
along the babbling brook.

My back was taut there,
I stood rigid,
hard as granite
& closed my eyes.
I kissed,
I licked
the frozen rain.
I hugged,
I squeezed
the gale force winds.
I fingered,
I cupped
the zephyr
at six thousand meters.
It was cosmic,
totally *******,
genuine nirvana
& breathless too.

I can write you
the sexiest ditty
in the world,
create sensual imagery
beyond your wildest dreams
& I do mean,
your wildest dreams.

But sadly
that's about
all I'll ever be able to do,
unless.....unless...

O darling,
if I could
hear you scream,
I'd pen an epic!

My corned beef tasted like
Chateaubriand today
and the sun wasn't yellow,
it was golden
& I am not myself,
these feelings.
Oh these ******* feelings.
Nothing is the same
since I met you,
I want more.

Wandering the ridge line
alone on high alert,
I kept my head on a swivel
as I moved down
into the humid-cool-mist
toward high camp.

Boulders strewn about
the size of Volkswagens
littered the landscape
as I walked
cautiously
expecting to see
Teradactyls in flight,
scavenging for their
next meal.

This place was the real deal,
barren, rugged & brutal,
the place where flying dinosaurs
could ruin your day.

It's no wonder most
people never come up here
to play. Alpinists say
they love it that way,
the fewer the better.

But I have my doubts.
I read something somewhere
about being able to outrun
your mates in the event
of an aerial carnivore-attack.
'Cause out here all alone,
I was an easy meal,
a sitting duck,
fodder for those
vicious-creatures.

I was overjoyed
when I saw the yellow speck
of my nylon tent.
I jumped with happiness,
thanked the mountain-gods
for my safe passage,
warm soup & gossamer feathers,
a restive-stronghold from
hungry reptiles!

I was unborn
when the psychodelic bus
left the station,
but I was told about the trip,
the wild flowers
& mystic smoke,
the electric music
that blew minds
& glass tubes.
I heard it was groovy,
that it moved hippie-souls
into a positive-karmic state,
a place I wished
we had stayed.

I'm a volcano,
can spew molten lava,
play with me Darling
& you're definitely
going to get burnt.

And still,
you want
some of my heat,
get knocked off
your sweet
pretty feet?

Then go ahead
Miss Reverence,
pray to the Kona-Gods,
I'm starting to smolder,
gonna blow my top off,
just for you!

I see skyscrapers on the horizon
& neon reflections
& you're not here.
What is this place,
where sunlight sparkles,
kisses the underside of my lids.
But it's not a home without you Darling,
just a place of brokenhearted sadness
& tearful rain.
Lord, I miss you.

O Sweetheart,
I would brave
a thousand oceans,
weather the
fiercest storms
& summit stone-age ice,
just to be
with you.

O Darling,
I am warm to the touch
& lie here alone,
thinking,
thinking of love
& you lying there,
surrounded
by your soft
pretty hair,
so nice.

O Dear Lady
my passion,
if you,
if you only knew.

Often I think of Billy,
with his great white eyes
& his tats,
arms full of grinning devils,
scorpions & pentagrams.

He was a hellacious gunner
& he loved to use the kabar
& we missed him
when he rotated
back to the world.

Often I think of Billy,
with his great white eyes
& his tats,
arms full of grinning devils,
scorpions & pentagrams.

We walk like vapor-genies
in old growth forests,
ghostlike & elegant,
we move
like true fairytales,
gnomes whittle the way
for us
past exploding ferns.

It’s true,
we have seen the rain
coming down in torrents
along blue ridge trails,
fallen logs strewn about
like matchsticks,
fungi licks our shins
while lightning cracks
thunder like bullwhips.
I love moments like that…….
I hear Creedence every time we go.

And didn’t you know dear friends,
it’s spiritual medicine
for restless souls,
like my fellow companions & me.

I was so beautiful to them,
they always relished
in the sweet-place I loved,
sacred & delicious.

I licked the dew off lotus petals
& they yelled to god,
actually screamed my name
in reverance,
talked about love
& the way I moved my tongue,
used my body in such
wonderful configurations,
meant to meet their wanton demands.

I was beautiful to them at least once,
but what white lies they did speak,
and sadly I'm a sucker,
a fall guy for liars,
who lie underneath,
spread themselves all over,
like smooth creamy butter.

I've traveled through outer space,
sat buckled to the seat,
daydreamed
with aliens all around.

The outside domain was a blur,
I rode supersonic steel
knifing lush countryside
between chasms
of skyscraper structures.

I tried to decipher
the language of such folk,
who seemed unfazed by my jokes.

Their gaze, the same slant,
followed my every move,
I felt like an un-caged freak,
myself an alien
in a future-world
riding bullets.

This time of the year
my sinuses keep me awake.
I drain one side
then flip.
Drain the other side,
then flip again.
It's a ritual that seems
like it has no end.
Jesus,
I need to find a local honey
to stop this madness.

Flow anticipation
Her eyes look up pleasantly
Lovely sweet suckling

Honeydew wine water,
a cool refreshing stream.

Peaches & cream,
succulent like
rare corn-fed beef.

Wildflower honey
& peppermint sticks,
the finest of teas,
so invigorating.

What do you taste like
fine lady,
pray tell,
please.

My appetite is wondering,
these taste buds are
screaming
to know
your flavor.

I downloaded Weatherbug
into my cell phone
then added a thousand exotic places
into the program.

Every chance I get,
I click onto another place
& visualize
what it'd be like
to be there
& not here,
I dream.

The mockingbird does sit,
mocks me along the path,
hence its name,
the funny winged-******,
it is what it is,
and me a crouching tiger
& sometimes I indulge
the drunken monkey.

Softness of their bleeping melody
echoes through the canyon walls,
etched by millennium
the sweetest sound,
spreading calm
through cycles
of raging-time
herding on.

You reach out to touch somebody
and they're not really there,
only words
spiraling through fiber optics,
they can't mend a broken heart.

A soft kiss & the taste of her
is a real start, every night
I witness the constellations,
wishing to see another star,
fall to Earth.

I am surrounded
by silent bamboo.

There is no growl
coming from tiger's toothy grin.

A neon blue butterfly
is not at all startled
by the flying red dragon
descending from gray.

Mister Samurai and Miss Geisha
smile affectionately,
while muted love birds tweet
near  
the angry
crab-warrior.

I listen,
I listen
and I hear
the petals falling off
the chain of flowers
blaring.

I find magic in things,
in things
here.

My mind races endlessly,
especially in the wee hours
of the morn,
when all is quiet,
when I lie
alone in my bedroom,
contemplating.

Like clockwork,
my eyes pop wide open
& I visualize sacred
sensual pleasures
of her
lying in sweet repose,
& me
a mouthful
of her pretty flower
curling her toes,
bathed in a flood
of her raw-emotion.

Lord knows,
I'm in love with
modern technologies
& make no apologies
for the penning
of such passions
between her and I.

I climb
the walls
thinking
about you.
And it's better
in the hot shower,
so steamy,
so dreamy,
me holding you up,
with your back
against the wall,
floating,
suspended on Heaven
to receive
my droplets
of pure love.

We once wore tie dyes,
smoked herbage,
all styles, all kinds,
it blew our minds.

Swirls & waves,
Colombian & Mexican,
a little bit of Thai,
the stick.

We were walking
kaleidoscopes,
amateur-gurus,
electric experts,
explosive flames,
so vibrant,
so vivid,
energetic & dreamy.

And when coupled
with some Zeppelin,
the Stones or Geils,
we were
the
coolest humans on Earth.

Our whirlwind extravaganza
started out innocent enough.
Jimmy & I were jukebox heroes
shooting some eightball,
guzzling a few pitchers
of the golden liquid,
specialty hops down
at the microbrewery.
Minutes fades into
what seemed like forever,
faces got bigger than disappeared.

One thing led to another,
we ended up three counties away,
waiting & watching
for the alien abduction.
Four teenage drifters
we had picked up
sticking thumbs out
were hanging with us.

One by one
familiar-voices
faded into the surf,
and as the sun began to rise,
I found myself alone
in my auto with an empty tank,
two flats & a scar
on the back of my neck.

I've been told
there's a place
called Heaven,
where the sea
meets the golden desert,
mountains rise up
& tall cedars kiss the sun.
And in this place,
anise-spirits flow
& pistachios grow
in abundance.
Angels exist there,
honey-flavors drip
from their pretty mouths.
One in particular,
has the sweetest lips,
like baklava,
I am intoxicated.
They sing to me
songs of hope
& I am swept away,
swept away to that place
along Mideastern
shores.

I'm not really good
at calling people names,
I've been called so many,
I would not know where to start,
So quite frankly,
ir's better to just be polite
& not rude,
like some unhappy folks,
who are mad at the world,
calling people names
or being rather rude.

O why
be so sad,
so downtrodden,
feel so depressed,
like you've fallen?

It could definitely be a lot worse,
the hearse could be heading your way,
I hope not......well......

Certainly I do confess, things aren't perfect,
but who said they would be?
Like, we've got the world by the *****,
we need to take it by storm,
shut this computer down,
bundle up,
go outside to play,
take a hike,
count our lucky stars.

Let's do it tonight!

You might just
catch the Borealis
as a bonus.

That should make you happy!

She's sweet moondust,
glows splendidly,
is hypnotic.

Her moods are fleeting,
she suffers from phases
& craziness abounds,
I can feel it
& yet,
I am totally mesmerized
by her seductiveness.

When our eyes meet,
I become intoxicated,
am so in love
with her dark
****-energy.

She makes me full,
we need to kiss &
burn the night away,
soon.

Jeff carried
a deck of cards,
all aces,
all spades
& he had a habit of leaving
them in the strangest
******-places.

I can honestly tell you,
fear is real,
the rumors spread,
nobody in our sector
ever wanted to play cards
with Jeff.

Lying & kissing,
her tenderness
exposed.

I travel earnestly,
gliding, sliding
north to south,
savoring my
return trips
down to tight-***,
then up swirling.

I nest inside
her flowery-folds,
inhaling beauty,
sniffing
succulent-fragrance,
so raw & inviting.

Boldly
kissing &
push-pulling,
I lick tenderly,
some flick-plucking,
exploring &
now thrusting,
increasing tempo,
I hear her breathing
heighten,
reach a higher level.

O her
intermittent
soft sighs,
she closes her eyes,
thighs trembling!

Her rock-hardened tips
swim her breast-ocean,
& wonderful back rises
up in arched-rainbow
as she reaches
a wild-crescendo.

Shuddering,
flooding &
curling her toes,
she screams, "Good God, Alleluia!"
& I know I've reached Eureka!

We lie breathless,
kissing
in repose,
aglow in a beautiful
sweet-nirvana.

Combination of
Corn syrup, eggs, vanilla
butter and pecans

It was extra cold this winter,
continuous ice floes
danced on top of the swirling rapids
near Munson's Creek.

As the stars disappeared,
the sun cracked
the eastern horizon,
I had been out all night
setting the extra traps.

My camp was set earlier this year,
near the largest dam of the
big-toothed water-creatures,
I hoped to trap
me some bigger beavers
this time around.

The pelt harvest was quite significant
in last year’s haul, but now
the boys down at Johnson’s Mercantile
had placed an order for twenty-five more.
I planned to make my quota
before the spring thaw.

I was getting lonelier than hell
in this frozen wasteland.
I really missed my darling Mae,
if she only knew how blue I was.
My dog was getting homesick too.

It's a little known fact,
but true.
Jean-Luc Picard
grew up believing in Yoda.
Ever since he saw the little fella
in Star Wars, he's kept a picture of him
in his Star Trek wallet.
And if people knew that,
the ratings would
have been higher
for Star Trek,
'cause everybody loves Yoda.

Interestingly,
when the Apollo program
kicked off in the 60's,
Yoda hadn't even hit
the movie screens yet.
Too bad,
those early astronauts
would have loved
to have had a mascot!
Everybody knows,
space travelers
have to believe in someone.
It's just great universal karma!

I hear the drone
a mile away,
the endless stream of traffic,
truckers & autos
pushing on in
the stillness
of a winter morn,
no sun to guide them,
just endless rows
of highway lights.

I fight the loneliness
with my woolen blanket,
realizing
my feet are cold,
listening alone.

Something about
these hotel AC's,
they lie in such close proximity
& seem engineered to produce
near-Arctic temperatures.
So cold,
so freezing,
and one like me,
so relaxed,
lying under
a mountain of quilts,
feels too lazy,
so unable to get up,
to move through frigid-air,
to adjust a thermostat
that seems perpetually broken,
& stuck on just one setting,
sub-zero.

O sweet honey bun,
I'm scribbling as fast as I can,
writing deep penetrating thoughts,
things I think you'd like.

O, isn't this hot,
thrilling,
scintillating
raw techno-fun?
Your responses are so sublime,
genuine sultriness,
you have suggestive-words
of your own,
it's hard to keep up!

O, pardon my misspellings,
but the excitement is taking
me over the edge,
auto-correct can't even stop
my intent to be with you,
giving you my ******.

O, I think you should know,
I cannot fight you,
the aura on my screen,
that view of you
makes me feel explosive.
So here goes doll,
I'm getting close,
I'm strumming myself
to the beat of your words,
I think I love this,
kissing you in space,
exploding to the glow
of modern moonlight.

O Darling,
I have heard our sounds
reverberate,
like the tinkling
of fine crystal,
the cascade.

O the releasing,
such moments
of fine-euphoria,
those waves of
sheer passion
& to have survived,
to be in *******
to you
forever.

This silence,
this incessant silence
drives me mad
like the drippy faucet
that breaks the night
I cry.

Under the darkening heavens,
cool winds endlessly blow
across the Nile,
between the sacred pyramids,
the sphinx lies in silence,
a testament to wealth & power.

Standing alone, I witness
the spectacular setting of the sun.
Ancient voices hum eternal tunes,
seemingly lost forever in
the mysteries of the universe.

At once I am overwhelmed,
feel a true connectedness with
Pharoahs & the countless stars,
twinkling their message
under endless dunes.

Zona Rosa bliss
Tequila kisses frolicking
Headaches in the morn

She painted her toenails fuscia
& O,
the things she could do
with her pretty feet.