There were rumors
floating around about the guy,
in fact,
he was a collegiate living legend.
All the girls & some of the guys
whispered,
"If you want hard Richard
to fill you up,
then he's your man."

Strange, I never found out
if it was true or not,
but the dude sure
had a lot of friends,
some of them sleazebags,
others lily white,
his name was Bill
& he had no money.

Don't drop a dime in prison,
those guys are poor.

I am in a world of imposters,
they sit right next to me,
smile & shake my hand
with sweaty palms,
shifty eyes watch me
& I see their serpent tongues
in between their bites,
during our lunch break,
those fakers.

My blue jeans
are feeling a bit
tighter these days.
Oh yeah,
I can still snap the button,
there's nothing to it,
but I just know it's time
to hit the gym & purr down
my morning shakes again.

You cracked my code,
spun my dial &
left me broken,
shattered me,
into a million
tiny pieces.

She had an incredible eye for detail.
From her neatly coiffed hairdo,
down to the lacy hearts on her ******.
It made her
the perfect example
of femininity
& the Lord knows.
I love simplicity,
the key to a loving heart.

I feel love
buried
deep
still
when
I hear her voice
my heart sings
and
my breath
escapes me
so alone
I want her
and
she knows
that same feeling
I bet
yet
remains
silent
I heard it.

The first time I met you
we danced
for an eternity
under the stars
& your brown eyes
burned a spell
into my heart.

You could have
had anyones
& yet
you stole mine
with your sweet charm.

They called you heartstopper.
You gave me
enough pieces,
so many clues,
I should have known
better.

It was so true,
'cause
I cannot get mine
started
again.

And it hurts
to have your heart
stopped.

The boy was so much fun,
always smiling,
piling on the jokes
& he toked,
truly loved the ladies.

But sadly,
he's no longer with us.
Heath was taken out by a drunk
in the lone star state
just sitting on his Hayabusa,
a hit-and-run
at 2am,
it was as tragic.

Some say he had
a date with the devil,
but methinks he's playing
peekaboo with a blind squirrel
with all the angels,
still spinning his magic
above.

Behind closed doors,
in the magic
of the comforting-moments
that enveloped us,
our souls mixed.

It was purity,
snuggled
next to you,
basking
in sheer-ecstasy.

Intertwined,
we lay
giggling,
counting our
rows of toes.

Your smile
complemented
the string of pearls
you wore
around your
sweet delicate neck
& tears of joy
flowed
like heaven crying.

She is covered in angel-skin
& her fragrance is of lilac.
I frolic playfully
in her open fields
& she yields
so willingly.

Whispering a siren's voice,
she hypnotizes me,
her taste of wildflower-honey
soothes my parched throat,
she emotes
pure love.

Her touch is dreamy,
I get lost in her grip,
her lips sizzle grace,
possesses a face
of rarest beauty
I kiss.

Pools of comfort
she does make
& I ache for her
constantly
to quench
my burning *****,
we are joined
at the hip.

You should see her,
Heaven from above
does exist
down
here on Earth.

O yes,
I confess
she is!

I rested both of them
quivering
& you gazing
upwards,
with your beautiful eyes
towards Heaven,
didn't miss
a single drop.

We,
you & me,
are co-creators
of heavenly artwork,
sacred patterns of intimacy
& on your porcelain canvas,
I brush my paint
this starry night.

Your scent is Heavenly darling,
the rarest of fragrances,
it drives to the brink.

Smother me in it,
I want to drink
your
sweet-nectar,
swallow you
whole.

You know what you do to me....

Combination of
Corn syrup, eggs, vanilla
butter and pecans

It's hot in this room,
all alone on
a spinning office chair
& these thoughts
of me
running my hands
through
your hair
while you flood
the room
with heaven's scent
on top.

He was a simple man,
inquisitive,
an amateur-sleuth,
used Google for his answers.

Then,
in the middle of the night,
men in fatigues
whisked him away,
he disappeared
into the network
& became a ghost.

He was once
a happy-go-lucky guy,
had a  huge smile that
stretched the universe,
forever he embraced
whatever came his way
positively.
But somewhere
something changed.

Some say
he left his heart
in Helmand province,
& when I saw him last week,
he looked seriously tweaked
with that thousand yard stare.
It convinced me.

Once I was best friends with
the greatest hunter ever.
A genuine killer.
Anything that came
inside the fence line
was fair game.
Armadillos, 'possums,
turtles & even a couple of hawks
met their demise when he locked
his keen eyes onto them.
Three or four tom cats
barely got out alive.

He licked & he loved,
scratched doors & glass
with his manicured-nails.
Once, he ate the red paint
off my garden pail.
He had chips in his teeth,
it was funny as hell,
glad it wasn't lead-based.
The cucumbers I grew
rarely made it
to the dinner table.
He'd lay in the vines
with a look on his face
of sheer contentment.

Rolling grapes & peanut butter
were his favorites, but really,
he'd eat just about anything
'cept kale.

When he went blind,
he still got a squirrel
or two & went to
digging up shrews,
left several lying around dead
as proof of his skill.

When he died,
I cried an ocean of tears.
He's buried out
in the backyard
along with his two sisters,
I miss them & their
familiar barks  every day.

Take your Dramamine
and don't worry
about your screaming,
it will be alright,
it's just twenty-two miles
of twisties.

In the rare-silence
of his mountainside perch,
he contemplated all
the mysteries of the universe.

A million miles away
from peace and comfort,
he struggled
between duty &
the obvious sound of goat bells
down in the valley,
moving up,
a short-distance away.

For he knew,
nobody had a clue he was there,
a trained assassin waiting
in a death-lair
with only one mission,
not to let anyone pass alive.

The meaning of life
radiated in the birds
that swirled above him,
trapped in the heat waves
circling up
into the sunlight.

And death
was in his implement,
aimed on the pathway.
He was the ruler of the day
the devil of the night,
fighting his judgement.

Concealed,
he sat listening,
beads of sweat rolled
down his temples
as the silence
slowly disappeared &
the tinkling
got louder.

Hell was moments away,
he took a deep breath,
closed his eyes &
prayed for forgiveness,

I will always remember him
& that it could have been me
stepping on
that horrible explosion
on that fateful
scorching day.
Carter* went up suddenly
in a pinkish-mist,
all the camels nearby
scrambled,
as he slumped in
excruciating agony.
It wasn't pretty,
seeing him lying like that,
exposed,
in a pool of blood
with no *******,
boots untied.
They hauled him out
screaming he wanted to die,
blood-curdling,
hollering ****** Jesus
(and for his Mother)
in a beefed-up Humvee.
It wasn't funny.
I wanted to walk point
that
morning,
but he insisted
on struttin' his big *****,
which tragically
he lost
forever
in Babylon.
That sizzling
hot
*******
Babylon.

Greg never had a chance,
his chemistry made him susceptible
to chemical addictions.
His biology was configured
in such a way that
when he drank spirits
the devil took over.
He cheated & stole,
lied & ****** over
just about everybody who loved him.
I never stopped believing in his value,
he'd stop by to see me,
trashed,
****** up off his ***
& we'd talk about
the good old days.
I was one of the only ones
who would listen
to his slurred speech
& broken dreams.

The last time I saw him,
he still had his boyish charm,
I gave him ten dollars,
'cause he always paid me back.

And when I heard
he'd stepped in front
of a moving car a few days later,
it broke my ******* heart.

I wished I could have said goodbye.
All I can do now is
pen the sad facts.

So rest in peace brother Greg,
you never had a chance
with the devil
working against you.

She poured them out,
wasted them in torrents
to show me how much she cared.
But I will never forget
the sound of her sobs
as I walked away,
to get out of the pain
of leaving her,
her acid rain
forever.

She is so
mechanical & smooth,
knows all the actions
of her deliberate-moves,
the rules to every single game
& breaks them all
with her cold
android-heart.

He hung
like pressed flowers
in a fugue state
from her window,
felt the morning star
kiss the primordial forest
& heard her footsteps crunch snow
in the bitter cold.
She would never know
the depths
she gave up,
his offering,
her sacrificial lamb.
If you listen to the wind
hard enough,
you will hear his bleating.

I could write an epic novel,
pen volumes of scriptures,
scribe an entire
set of encyclopedias
about her.
She makes
the theory of relativity
look like voodoo science.

And with all those words,
those complex-descriptions
& intricate storylines,
she'd still be a mystery
to the universe.

It's a great thing
I'm such a prolific writer,
I'm going to enjoy
her discovery,
much.

I heard Lauren had passed
& erupted,
"***,
how sad,
she was so killer,
beautiful in Casablanca!"
And my young co-worker,
said, "Who, where?"
I thought,
really.....imagine that,
truly sad,
a world without Bacall!

I saw everything
from A to Z,
love,
hate,
honesty,
deception,
intelligence,
dreams,
reality,­
wantonness,
kindness,
sunshine,
smiles,
laughter,
angst,
calm,
a­nxiety,
piety,
my reflection,
unborn children
& a million other things
I tell you
I witnessed
in her pretty-eyes.

Smothered in deliciousness,
I look up to see flashback-images,
the finer points worth living.

And in my speechless moment,
my mouth tastes in waves,
the nectar of the goddesses,
raw and pure, like
her fine sweet-memory.

His request was quite simple,
you could hear the same desire
in his voice that I have in mine for hers.

It’s not as cliché as
what most people would say
& even it was, it’s still a classic.

Thanks Jimi,
you rocked,
standing next to hers!

A single drop of honey
rolled down her sweet thigh
& I slowly
licked it back up
to her open jar.

Every picture tells a story,
hers speaks of an epic.

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.

I become drunk
on the honey
that drips from her full lips.
I swallow every sweet-word
she ever speaks.
The things she tells me
about loving me,
about wanting me,
about me being
the only one for her,
intoxicates my soul.

I am addicted
to her pretty mouth,
her tender diatribe,
but there is a process.
Sooner or later,
the things we swallow,
get expunged,
they leave us
in a steady stream.

O yes, too much
of any liquid
becomes ****,
even our body knows that!

And yet,
I still dream about her.
I'm thirsty for more
of her sticky-words
and her smooth tongue
that swirls around
in her pretty mouth
while she kisses me,
dripping honey.

The lazy fan drifts
over me like her gentle fingertips,
nag champa wafts the chamber
& I am mesmerized
by her sensual image
floating above me
in her full spirit.

A queen of the Kama sutra,
I drive her skyward,
pinpoint her cosmic place
deeply
& tremble in waves,
a slave to her,
completely
in nirvana.

I watched her
unknowingly
draw her bath
& she,
she is such beauty
& I was so lost
in her privacy,
I became a trickle
from her slow faucet,
forever tasting,
forever tasting,
forever,
tasting
her sweet-moment
with lavender.

Located somewhere
from her nice belly button
to her raised hot buns

***, it's that nutcase
staring back
at me again
from my
cracked mirror
& he's broken
into a hundred pieces.

He’s journeyed many a treacherous route, scuttled ancient-ships,
ridden the skyscraper-troughs of crystal-seas, hunted enemies,
alone.

He’s guided by the lamps of the Heavens, the countless stars,
the sun and the moon, calculated the astrolabe,
alone.

He’s braved hurricane winds, the triangles of Bermuda, windless days,
leviathans & squids, scavenging whites and other such hungry things,
alone.

He’s got the strength of a Goliath, keeps his tenderness guarded under lock and skeleton-key,
his wounds bleed forever in the brokenness of a self-induced solitary confinement,
alone.

He’s the truest mariner, fights black-tempests within, protects himself from overexposure,
from another broken heart,
alone.

We're talking to our fearless leader
in the middle of the mahogany table,
a tiny black box spewing static,
this conference call.
And it's not as if he can do
anything about
the funny faces
we're all making.
For after all,
he's not a genie.

In that tender moment,
life meant everything,
I could tell,
he wanted to live
more than dying,
but it was his time to go,
despite the killing
he had done.

Time is growing short
Four walls are drowning me too
Soon I'll be far gone

Some places are meant to stay sacred,
like this one, hidden from the rest.

We sunk deeper in swirling volcanic-waters,
staring at the twinkling-milk splashed across the chilled-sky,
wondering about the birth of the universe.

Strange, how no one exists on the top of the world.
High on the altiplano, we saw the headlamps
of one lone trucker pass in seventeen days.

I still wonder if he might have been an alien,
like us, just passing through to the next galaxy.

Some places are meant to stay sacred,
like this one, hidden from the rest.

There's much more
than simple hoots
in an owl tune.

I hear a series
of complex notes,
subtle changes in
the inflection,
a slow steady delivery.

I feel the lonely spirit,
a couragous-fighter,
this brave-hunter
who rules
the night.

I hear triumph & tragedy,
delight & sadness.
I hear his echo,
his wail,
his solitary
purpose.

I hear all these things
& so much more
in his voice,
so loud
these lovely-notes,
hoots in the darkness,
hidden inside the din.

Wicked winds whip cold
Lungs scream for more oxygen
A commune with Gods

Where there's smoke,
there's fire.
This burning
is not cliche,
nor peculiar,
it's a natural
hormonal-thing.

She spins me
round and round,
makes such
sweet
lovely sounds,
sings to me
with those precious lips.

I am warm to the touch,
in a trance with her,
her dripping words,
her sensuous vibe
& I feel zombie-like,
she fuels my desire,
high octane mama.
Touch me.

There are places out there beyond the horizon,
unforgiving places where tar boils
& water is nonexistent.
These are the places I cherish,
where no humans reside
to ruin the desolate landscape,
where you can hide forever,
reach supersonic speeds
on highways carved in hell.
Like I said,
I cherish those places.

O my pretty angel,
quench my parched lips,
give me cool water
from our special place,
I'm dying,
watching the days
go by.