Minutes turn into hours
when I contemplate,
recalling
vivid memories
swirling out of the past,
what some label
the good old days.
But, what about the nights.

They were never truly
meant to last,
proving-grounds,
stored banks of the good times
& the bad.
Such tough realizations
dissipate into the melancholy.

And, if we could go back,
would we really change a thing?
For, we can never recreate the wheel,
it's already been done
& it's perfect.

In fact,
we're all perfect,
molded from clay,
washed with grit.
******,
pattern recognition
never felt so good.

It was a place
without freedom,
that place down the hall,
a land of the almighty & rich,
befallen petroleum *******
******* their ***** dry
& the wind cries
for justice,
not lies.

Wipe that lipstick
off your cheeks,
it's hiding
your pretty face
& your sweet grace,
your  crying
lying eyes.

Mister Nut Bag circled the shop
spouting off mindless diatribe,
like he was a ******* gear-Einstein,
but he didn’t know ****.

Everything he said was
total & utter malarkey,
that means some serious *******.
He looked like he hadn’t climbed since birth,
like when he climbed down from his mother’s womb
& been eatin’ carbs ever since.
A complete carb ****** he was,
certainly not a ******* hiker.

I wish I could’ve been
not politically correct,
tactless & unsavory.
I would’ve said to
Mister Know-It-All,
you fat ****,
**** a bag of *****.

I guess everybody's got their place,
arrogance has none
in our place.

Cheap plastic
smelly rubber
dead batteries
turn me on honey
I ain't no fake

Another session greets
me for another
beautiful day.

I flow effortlessly,
from one
position
into another,
breathing prana,
in and out,
my hips reach
toward the heavens
into a nirvana-state,
rock hard & perspiring,
I am connected
to the sacredness
of other kindred spirits
engaged in similar activities,
a million miles away,
in their own sacred places,
exploding.

By daylight,
they sold
burgers & chips,
the atmosphere
a bit chill,
touristy.

But at night,
things heated up.
The dance floor rocked,
the tiny rooms rolled.
They sold something
tastier than
meat and potatoes.

Many a ******
lost their pesos
to such festivities.

I shoot meterorites
across the darkness,
found here
in my space!

Can you smell me,
the raw
burning ozone,
streaking,
flying
through
this empty place?
Can you.

We walked dead
with blistered feet
up into darkness,
straight into
a freezing-monsoon.

The next day,
we awoke by noon,
our bodies strung out
on the saddle felt the tremors.

Sometime during the night,
the volcano had erupted,
coating us with ash and ice.

It reminded me like a Sunday,
but it was actually Monday,
not an Armageddon.

She was one tough chick
& took chances,
especially in public places.
Flashing herself,
showing her vibrant ink,
all the colors of the rainbow
etched on her flat chest,
red hearts circled
her pink excitement.
And she was not
just another pretty face,
she was in fact,
a true diamond
in the rough.

Rows of oiled bodies
of every shape & size
line the shore.

From gigantic thighs
to smooth flat lines,
tons of human meat,
dot the landscape.

O what an escape,
such a wonderful treat,
to see such diversity
glistening
under the Riviera sun.

I sit
& face the cobra,
swaying,
unhooded,
with a smiling tongue
& we see eye-to-eye,
& he does not strike,
knowing the power
of his toxin
I sit.

I got the best departure gift
any moonshine lover good get,
two Mason jars full of applejack,
the local homemade brew.
I plead the Fifth
on who made the stuff,
but I can tell you,
it was very,
very,
very smooth,
not the least bit rough.
Good cops do it like that.
Oh, I ain't no real redneck,
don't do plug,
I just appreciate the craft.......
please pass that jug!

I woke up frantic,
calling your name
& you were gone.
It was only then
I realized you
were but a sweet dream,
a diva of the stellar night,
haunting me,
haunting me
with untold pleasures
at your leisure
& with lipstick
smeared
all over my face.

Grasping his katana,
he sits stoic,
the keeper of the wisdom,
generations passed down,
a true follower of the faith.
And her,
a maiden butterfly,
captures the true beauty
of the entire universe.
Porcelain skin & ruby lips,
her jet black hair
blinds him,
reminding him,
that love still does exist.

It's not like eggs frying,
this drug,
my mind,
& your mind is
a terrible thing to waste
& my thoughts,
my warm thoughts
stream into you,
sizzling
& crackling
& you feel,
you feel electronic.

I remember sitting
around the tracks
with my comrades.
We were in rolling fields of clover
back then.
The doves that flew above us
had no clue
about our firepower.
We had .50 cals
and we picked our teeth
with splintered bone fragments.
To think
we even had the time
to smoke and joke
about our ridiculous nicknames
brings a smile
to my weathered-fface.
Moose was toothless,
lost them
to some drunk civilians
in a bar fight.
Wagner, the skinny one,
always cracked me up.
I miss McMinn's toothy-grin
and the way French
always wanted out,
constantly feighning his gayness.
Radosavich loved his rock and roll
and Flint sparkled from his hole
carved into the hillside.
Moore had chicks galore
and McLemore got his
divorce papers by airmail.
He went eerily silent
while Top barked ******* for us to do.
The Man was clueless,
but we protected his ***
anyways.
We had bills to pay.
I really miss those *******.
They were the best friends that ever were.

I'm perfectly fine
spewing my gutteral English,
but guys can dream.
How I'd love to speak nasally,
pronunciate just a bit
of high-Francaise.

Bonjour.

******!

A stack of unread books
teeters, hovers
over the squeezed tube
of triple antibiotic gel
resting on my nightstand,
lying right next
to the empty cup of white monkey,
sitting on a Heineken coaster.

My electric blanket
is plugged in,
set on #2, while
my head rests
on stacked pillows,
a cool breeze floats over me.

Bastet keeps me company on papyrus
along with the raised canine
under the glow-painted
Milky Way, where
I weave stories,
minglings of half-truths
& real fantasies.

I get tired of loving the hand
& use my finger to
spread some if it
in verse, wondering
why my head buzzes me so,
or if a single soul can relate
to such an asylum,
my sanctuary.

She had Southern attributes,
making cornbread was one of them,
O how she loved them
peppermint sticks!

Traditional warmth
Mix of seaweed and tofu
Appetite whetted

Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing,
******* around with my good nature.
I mean I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday,
but I didn’t think she’d break my heart like that either.

Oh sure, she used all the perfect words,
knew just what to say, to make me fall.
And when I fall, I fall hard & deep.

Oh well, I guess it’s my own fault,
but I can’t change the way I’m wired.
It’s this passion thing that
makes me see the best
in everything.
Even in hot calculating women.

Oh it’s crazy how
I’m wise to those tricks
& I still get taken,
trusting in some like that,
all alone & brokenhearted.

Who do you think you are,
stealing my heart like that,
wringing it dry,
bleeding all my veins,
gutting me like you did!?

You feel so proud,
so smug,
like you’re the greatest.
Me too, believing in karma!

It may not be instant,
but sooner or later,
it’s going to get you.

So enjoy the basking,
you still have time,
before it gets dark.

To taste a pretty flower,
touch-softly
& separate
her delicious sweet-petals
with such
tenderness & devotion
is the most extreme
form of Godliness,
an act made
exclusively in Heaven.

No silver spoon fed my mouth,
it was something different.

The school of hard knocks
rapped on my head &
I worked
my tail
off to get my gold.

And despite the glitz,
all this glamor,
there’s still
something missing
that's killing me.

The sweet fragrance of java
wafts gloriously
through my kitchen.
O wondrous Joe!
You are indeed,
a tasty hot elixir,
some sprinkled
with cream
and sugar,
sent to us
from
the gods
of the bean.

Those times
we'd go four wheelin'
with nothing on
but the bikini top
were the best of times.

We'd jam Thorogood,
take a cooler
& disappear
way up
into the hills,
get lost in the blm lands
near skagway.

And those trips
into phantom canyon
always gave us
a chance to unwind.
Pulling offroad
up into the conifers
sealed my fate with you.

You were the perfect date
Sunshine.
With nothing on
but a red bandana,
screaming hallelujah
on the roll bar.

And there was never
anybody around,
but you
and the warblers
and me.

I've danced with zephyrs
in the jet stream,
gazed upon the curvature
while standing &
touched the stars
while dreaming.

So anything at sea level
seems anti-climatic at best,
is a test of patience
minus the adrenaline.

You looked so sweet tonight,
your hair was perfect,
you smiled with cute dimples
& the scarf was nifty.
Vapor drifted from you mouth,
it was that cold,
but a fire burned
inside me.

You made me
harder than a rock
& I wanted you bad,
but I didn't say a word.
Our time will come.
You know that.
I can't wait.

She says
"Tweet me!"
Christ,
I can't even do
an Excel spreadsheet.
like
how's that going to work?

O the joy, the joy
of this life snuffed daily
by the minions
of the darker age.

Creeping,
stalking
outside in the shadows
gripping,
choking,
breaking our necks.

We sleep eternally,
our blood-stained eyes
stare in desperation,
too late for
our own resurrection
as wasted time flies…….

Ramble on I do
with visions I have of you,
pink pussycats,
a falling star,
itchy palms,
the balm of this or that,
Casablanca,
Philadelphia freedom,
the Red, White, and Blue,
******* you to the wall,
egg rolls,
soul-stealers,
planting seeds,
the madness of Jack,
quack quack quack,
****** body parts,
kissing Detroit,
drunk on sunshine,
mountain zephyrs,
pixie-talk,
Kingdom come,
down dogs,
London fog
Vegas folly,
dead roses,
sweet sensations,
hurt,
pain,
pop tarts,
warm velvet,
porcelain orbs,
whack whack whack
universal soldier
lover.

I want to lie in a place
where I can't breath,
witness the curvature,
hang out with my buds
& spoon at sixty below
under the seracs.
For in those moments
& with those people,
I feel truly real.

We smuggled ourselves
on endless ribbons,
circumnavigating
towns full of iguanas.

Licking summer skies,
we displayed
kaleidoscope-eyes,
wore blue ribbons
in our hair.

Nothing compared
to the chivalry of the times,
naievity ruled us
like bosses, yet we
slayed with such splendor.

No prisoners taken,
just scars given,
along with tales,
stories from the borders,
our lives lived on the fringes,
hanging on endlessly
to lost dreams.

Gripping the aluminum skin
with my fingertips
is one of the hardest things to do.
It can be a bit easier if you can claw,
find a couple of loose rivets,
maybe grab an emergency door
hatch cover.
But that's tough to do,
flying at such high altitudes
at hundreds of miles an hour,
outside the main cabin.

I don't seem myself lately.
I hear these crickets constantly
chirping in my head,
it sounds like interstellar-static,
a form of alien communication.

They grind their legs
in unison & play
just under the surface.
It seems,
whenever
I'm in a crowd,
no one else hears it,
does anybody,
do you?

It was called a summer of love,
but in reality,
it was mainly
one of *** & alcohol.

We practiced endlessly,
dulled our senses
to break the ice,
imbibed unlimited amounts
of mind twisting elixirs.

Then we'd bend each other
into sensuous body-positions
& I'd fill you up
deeply
with copious amounts
of your favorite
substance.

Too bad
there was no such thing
as sexting back then,
we could've skipped
the heavy drinking
we used for foreplay.

We really should've had
our sweet **** fun
without the use of spirits
anyways &
no hangovers
would have
been swell.

Yep, I wished we would've
had such technology,
it would've saved us
hundreds,
maybe even thousands.

There is no more pain,
the sky has fallen
so many times,
like the final scene
of an epic play,
a curtain call
raised up again
to fall,
bowing out
to your addiction,
'till the next time
the glue of your heart fails
to reach the stars
& you cry alligators.

You think you're so bad.
Once, I stole the diamonds
off a rattlesnake's back
while he was coiled
buzzing me.
Now, I wear them
around my neck
with both of his fangs, too.
Top that tough guy!

Your kiss is euphoric.
When our lips meet,
a warm glow
floods over me.

I am intoxicated with
the movement of your mouth
& the motion of your tongue,
it dances with mine,
so Heavenly,
so divine.

My heart rate reaches
astronomical levels,
it is hard
for me
to catch my breath.

My skin melts in your embrace,
you have the sweetest look
on your face
when we hug like this,
one of desire & submission.

I can feel your fire
smolder &
it sweeps me off my feet.
Your fragrance is of lilac,
mesmerizing,
so alluring are
your dreamy-eyes.
I cry with joy when
we touch,
when we kiss.

Your touch is angelic,
full of electricity,
it shoots jolts of primal need
throughout my entire body.

One is never the same
after such an episode,
you are forever smitten,
bitten by sacredness.
The nicest thing on this
Earthly realm is
to be jolted
by an angel.

And you are sweet Darling,
certainly one
of those
beautiful beings.

I must confess,
I miss you terribly,
I wish you were mine.

You wore your flame hair
across your pretty face
hiding malachite
& your freckle-constellations.
The stars that melted me,
I got lost in them
when you combed your hair back
in a cute little red bun.

There was a time in my life
when I was an expert
at quarters.
In fact,
I was so good at it,
every time I played,
I would get more *******
than all the others.
It wasn't about love
or intimacy,
it was about being
the biggest bad ***.
But when I look back now,
it may have been about
being the biggest
drunk *******.

I was going downward
into the box canyon,
meandering
toward the ancient-ruins.

Floating along
in a dream-state,
I was lost in another world,
heading to a secret place
time had forgotten
when I passed her
scuttling upward,
carrying
a heavy basket
on her crooked back.

The grizzled lines
on her brown face
ran crisscross,
deep furrows of anguish
to match her
toothless-grimace.
They told me things
most people would
never understand.

Her angry eyes
were dark sparks,
they burned holes
into my heart
I will never forget.

She’s been there forever,
somewhere, always
in the back of my mind,
just under the surface.
I’ve never been able to wash her smell,
extract her beautiful image,
out of my memory.

It was not those brown eyes,
those pouty-lips or her dimpled cheeks,
not even her thick crown of gorgeous hair.
It was purely chemical,
we were bound by our genetics,
engaged immediately
in the most sensual-rituals,
every single time
was as good as the last.

Those feelings flare up occasionally,
and it’s always the same thing.
My heart lands in my throat,
I can’t breathe & my blood flow
increases the tingling
down below.

And I just know,
in the back of my mind,
she still feels the same,
I can feel her, still.

Are you there
Miss Clairvoyance?

I feel your electrifying hands
reaching out to touch me,
to soothe me into submission.

I feel your weight
pressing down on me,
holding me tightly
with your finery.

I am breathless,
your sensuous conduit,
lost in a world
of extra sensory
perceptions,
feeling your
spasmodic-ripples,
inhaling your spirit.

Some call me a savage,
a bit of a lady ravisher,
but actually
I'm a bloodthirsty pirate,
a bearded buccaneer
by trade.

I plunder & I pillage,
but never do I ****.
I just soothe you
by kissing the sweet-nape
of your delicate neck
& believe me Queenie,
it'll make you move rather quick,
when I swallow your drip.

You'll want me,
beg me to raid
your pretty ship
again & again,
take all of your precious *****.

My parrot will laugh
at my various quips
& don't be alarmed,
there's nothing nefarious
about my peg leg,
'cause it's hollow,
it's where I hide
the golden loot.

You zipped
from pretty flower
to pretty flower,
collecting your rare beauty.
Your wings were exquisite,
your sting so enticing.
Then you infected me
with your tasty nectar
& I'm still buzzing.

I love her sweet pearl
It is the ultimate treasure
Her parted soft shells

I saw her in a vision
amongst the stars &
I must be going nuts.
My mind does this,
seems to play tricks
on me,
am I a little bit crazy?

From time to time,
I feel it slipping,
I feel like
I'm from another place,
from outside our system,
from another galaxy,
one seen far across
the dark night skies
that disappear
when the sun rises.

But I do feel the pull,
so many of them twinkling
between constellations,
the lure of the stars
beckoning me
& inside my pocket,
I hold a tin version of authority,
the type the runners carry
to maintain universal law and order.

O traveler tell me,
please tell me
Aldebaran exists.
Tell me this is not
some strange dream,
a sick joke
played on me
by the lady
born under the
sign of Taurus.

O, tell me she's real.

I've got ten minutes to get
from the spice bazaar
down to the coffee shop.

I've counted dozens of times
the number of steps
it takes to get there,
smiled hundreds of times
at the shopkeepers,
kids going to school
and tourists shooting snapshots
of my historical homeland.

My load's a bit heavier today,
these steel *****
sewn into this vest
are going to make one helluva mess.
It's going to blow my ***** off,
but what the heck,
who needs them,
I'll have virgins
to play with.