I strode quickly
just below the ridge line,
moving inside shadows
I hid myself amongst
the jagged rocks
in a camo-perch,
outside the glare of the sun.

It was a race against time,
intel had reported
the primary target
had been spotted,
he was moving this way.

If God was on our side,
we were in luck.
If he wasn't,
I was ******.
But I'm here to tell the story,
& he isn't.
Take my word for it,
he's gone,
he's never coming back &
his ghost still haunts me.

[I pray to God for
some deliverance,
wishing he'd been
on the other side that day.....
Well, maybe not,
I'm livin' for today!]

He stared around the table,
the kitty was full
& all the chips were in.
He had nothing in his hand,
not even a pair of deuces.
So he took his chances,
threw three on the table
& asked the dealer for more.
The first draw was
the King of Clubs,
the next one,
the Queen of Hearts.
And just his luck,
the last one was
the Ace of Spades
& he still had nothing.
But at least,
at the very least,
he played the game
with a bravado,
his love of risk.

My jaw dropping exposure
to your world is a hit,
and I miss you already
darling,
living our own dimensions.

I love being
under your control
& you on top,
pulling all the strings,
lowering
your delicious parts
at your desire
& hitting bottom.

Electric guitar with a twang,
rotating fans,
mustard greens,
mac and cheese,
pulled pork,
sweet tea and flies.
This is hog heaven.

Who makes themselves
a god,
goes against the true spirit
& the judge
is not the jury,
nor the executioner.

It is written
in the ancient book,
behold
their end,
cometh quick.

In the fog of war,
it's so very surreal,
there ain't nothing like it,
something you'll never forget.
Hollywood pales to
real smashed heads & entrails.
On the authentic battlefield,
there's no stuntmen
around to fake a fall,
it's done with real men,
not high paid actor-boys
protesting the dead ones.

Hollywood didn't have to spend
tens of millions of greenbacks
on a fantasy feature
about apes ruling a planet.
All they had to do
was make a documentary film
about the world's current leadership.
It would have been
much cheaper
& a hell of a lot
more realistic.

It's hard to get a handle on my life
& she gave me a chance
to shine like a star
& I did
brightly
for the briefest of moments
I felt truly loved.
I got so lost
in her
& when she told me
she never shared
her soul with me
I realized she was just another
facade,
a figment
of my
lying imagination.
I was deceived
by my heart
again...
played.

Father was verbally dirt tough,
usually physically rough.
Mother is certifiable,
a legitimate ****.
Both hid
under the cloak
of the Pope's dogma.
This led to confusion...
it still does.

I ventured to
the farmer's market today,
got me some fresh white potatoes,
a pile of green beans,
stone ground rolls
& a few homemade sausages.

Oh, I picked up a jar
of wildflower honey,
some honeydew wine water
& a bar of lilac soap, too.

I can't wait 'till
the little lady shows up
later tonight.
We're gonna
have a super supper
& a nice warm bath
out under the stars.

O Lordy,
there ain't nothing
like eating home cookin'
& going au naturel,
I can't wait.

You held me close,
confided in me,
exposed yourself
& told me
you were diseased
& I dissed you.

Christ,
you're the one
I should have kept.
I miss you're honesty
& warm kisses,
you.

Honey I know,
it looks rather childish,
my fingers in my mouth
constantly,
but sweet sweet darling,
I cannot resist
the way you taste
so delicious.

Put yourself
in a bottle honey
and mail it to me.

I promise,
I'll drink
it all
to your health.

She wore her bandana
like the bikers do
& walked with the aire
of a tiger
& when I looked
down,
I saw
the cutest toes
painted
the deepest rose.

She just looked at me
with a twinkle
& a wry smile
& she sauntered away,
the fragrance of honeysuckle
trailing behind her.

I watched you from afar,
knowing,
knowing about my curse,
I am forever married
to the other demons of the night.

I fight my urge,
the urge to
**** your life from you,
to make you all mine,
my slave
for my own personal delight,
forever.

You are so fine,
the prettiest specimen of womanhood
my eyes have ever seen,
you set my cold heart on fire.

To rob the world of such beauty,
such poetry in motion
for selfish reasons,
would be dire,
bring dishonor
to our entire league,
our league of
hnorable bloodsuckers.

It's just my luck,
to fall in love
with such a cutie,
makes me hungrier,
lust for you more.

O darling!

O Sweet Mama,
if you allowed me
the pleasure
to arch your back
just once,
I promise,
you'd be
hooked on
my electronic-phonics,
forever.

It's hotter than hell today.
I can't imagine
what it would be like
to live in Hades
& I hope I never do.

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.

It was overcast that summer day
long ago,
I remember
a light cool-mist
covered our faces.
The way you looked was magnificent.
You wore a straw brimmed-hat
with a single fake daisy.
Even the way you baited my hook
was hot.

Often
steamy inspiration
just hits me
& I write stanzas,
sensual verses in spurts.
Waves of emotion
come over me
&
I shoot,
shoot out
short
quick  
fiery
hot
dittys
about you.
Come on,
read up!

I'm really not sure
how I got here,
to this lonely place.
Was it the wind,
the sins of my father,
mother.
Perhaps, it was all
those pretty faces
I fell for,
who took traces of me
& left me brokenhearted.
And though I'm not a boy anymore,
I'm not just another hard toy either.
Seems like that's
all I've ever been to them.
But maybe I'll write
a book of poetry someday
& try to work this out
with heartfelt words.
Look, no hands.

I wonder what vampires dream about.
Apple cider and spiders
or 'la playa' views
with white sand
and aged *****?
Do they dream
about saunas and bright lights
or who won
the latest prize fight?
Do they wish the night would end
so they can quit sending
innocent people
into tormented
perpetual dream states?
And how do they even get a date
with hours like that?
No wonder they dream,
scream for deliverance.

Darling,
you are such an actress
& majorly emphatic,
definitely
you're a lover
of the dramatic!

But would you,
would you kick a puppy
just to hear it yelp?

And could you,
could you scream
****** ******
in a butcher's shop?

And how
about dropping,
dropping
onto the tracks,
& throwing yourself
under a train
for me,
you wouldn't,
would you?

But,
but that would
truly be dramatic!

They always come in spurts,
intimate thoughts & feelings
rising to the surface,
emotions spilling out
into contrived words
of true love
and angst
for eternity.
And it hurts.

She wears my camo hat &
my side knife on her leather belt.
A ribbon is worn in her hair & she likes denim jeans.
She loves patchouili & makes her own herbal soap.
We walk on the crystal sand & write our names in the surf.
She makes recipes from scratch & uses spices.
She's from the city & we sleep in the country.
We light candles in circles & burn strong incense.
We share intimate sensual-things & sleep 'till past midday.
We kiss each other sweetly & whisper nothings.
We do not know the day nor the month
& it does not really matter.

Standing in the jet stream,
I witnessed the curvature of the Earth.
Zephyr-clouds danced around me,
whispered their secret language,
reminding me to never forget
how the mountain allowed me to
be witness to the sacred-drama.
The mountain allowed me
safe passage on my descent, too.
If you only knew how lucky we were......

I clapped my hands
& heard
the porpoises calling.

They sung to me
in a secret language,
it sounded like laughter,
certainly not imminent disaster.

It seemed ethereal
as I stood and wondered
how many heads rolled
next to the temple
& how many clapped
to hear the dolphins laugh,
above the din of brutality.

How many times can
we write about heartbreak
& how many words does it take
to describe anguish,
the end of the world
as we now it?

How many stanzas
can be made to talk about hate
& how many verses
can be written to alleviate
the terse nature
of a crushed spirit?

O pray tell, tell me ******!

From obscurity to shining star.
I rose the corporate ladder,
quicker than most,
a private to sergeant.

In fact,
everything I do,
I do one-hundred & ten percent.
And you want to be loved?

Oh, I'll love you,
like you should be loved
& then some.

If you only knew....
how much I love it.

I truly miss
the high camp fix.
For in them,
I am closer to the sun.
It's a place where
drizzle is hail & snow,
where people who visit care,
those kindred spirits
who truly understand me
& the curvature of the Earth.
It's how we stayed grounded.

They blow themselves up
into hundreds of tiny ****** pieces,
killing themselves and others
for the love of God,
or so they say.

But did anybody
ever hug them,
tell them we care,
whisper in their ear
to let them know,
they don't have
to go that far?

So go ahead
my global friends,
let's hug a terrorist today
& spread some genuine love.

It was in the early morning
after a fire fight,
acrid smoke hung
in the air,
boys were screaming
for their mothers.

I never realized
how small
a human skull was
until I saw one,
smashed
&
empty.

She said she wanted everything,
and one part she got,
the other two
she couldn't fit in,
though she tried.

We came upon a nightmare,
something bad had happened there.
Oil-smoke hung in the air,
death & destruction
had certainly rained down,
the area was littered
with body parts,
pieces of burnt entrails.

Flies were everywhere,
a sweet smell hung in the air.
The first crushed skull I ever saw
creeped me out quite a bit.
I had to fight the *****.
****, this wasn’t the movies,
some computer-generated hologram,
it was real war,
we had five to smoke ‘em.

But I couldn’t wait to get along.
I was now majorly spooked
by the vacant looks
staring up at me
from the other heads
lying speechless,
so comfortable
in the bleached-sand,
their final resting place.

A sadness hung in the air
as we moved again
to the next smoke break,
twelve clicks away,
it looked the same way.

There are eyes watching,
gazing,
sizing you up,
waiting for the right time
to spring.

There are hungry tigers
on the street,
so beware sweet thing.

In a meeting
with deadpan eyes
& boring guys
& all I can do
is think about
her fine thighs
such sweet fine thighs......whew.

Hurry up five....please hurry.

Stormtroopers
descended on Baja,
rolled over
the disrepaired highways
under the crescent moon,
both crazier than loons.

Dressed in full battle gear,
our billfolds
were stuffed to the hilt
with pesos,
mouths watered
for some aged tequila
& worms.

We met Rosa & Lupita
outside the cantina,
the drinking place
guarded by ten-year olds
carrying machine guns
covered with duct tape.

In the morning,
we were penniless
with hurt heads
& sore feet,
the amigas were gone.

Millions are made
off the misery of others
& there is no cure in sight.
The system just reloads,
rakes in the hard earned dollars
of real people
who they say
have no rights.
And who are they,
but the high & mighty
magistrates,
sitting high in the pulpit,
hitting happy hour
before they drive back home
after a hard day's work
playing hypocrite.

It's hard to get kick-started
in the early morning
when your body feels like lead,
your eyes are crusty
& you've lost faith
in fellow man.

But Rare Earth
pounds in my head
& I smile,
thinking about the celebration
as I drag myself out of bed,
ready to make a stand.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLwkT5vAzCE

You're not pretty anymore,
well actually,
on the outside you still are,
it's the inside that's questionable.

I must had been mistaken,
swindled by my lying heart,
the one that's been cracked
forever it seems.

So often we stuff the clues
like Hoffa,
in barrels of denial,
never knowing
how we got here.

And even if we did,
it doesn't make it any better.
Jut ask his family.

There was time
when I dreamed
of a better life,
when I wanted
to stop the world
& melt with you.

And for a time,
we did.
I would get all caught up
in the moments
we spent
teaching each other
the finer intimate things
we liked to do with each other.

When you hiked your skirt
up like that,
you'd laugh deviously
& I would go berserk
in a good way.

Funny, how you always
knew it would.

You wore those
high heels & that silky lace.
The look you got on your pretty-face
when we reached that finer place
is forever etched in my mind.

There's no way
I could ever forget
what you did to me,
where you sent me
inside you.

I miss you terribly.
I ain't no cry baby, but
the world is spinning again
& I'm not laughing now.

I met a carny yesterday,
said he just got back from
a long stay at Guantanamo Bay,
that water-boarding didn't hurt
as long they used warm water.

That guy was a card,
but I wasn't buying
what he told me,
I ain't no mark.

Go ahead,
do what they told you.
Do what they told you
& see where that gets you,
playing a ******* minion
for the machine.
They spread greed,
& so much disease.
Christ, those lunatics developed
the atomic bomb.
I wanna be real.
So I ain't playin'
their silly little games.
That crazy **** will make
you go insane.

I always wake up crazy,
not with visions of padded cells.
But with those of primal swelling
& me dwelling
within the confines
of your lovely prison
walls coated
with me lying,
bathed in sweat,
in the middle
of a ***
of twisted sheets,
I always wake up crazy.

Waves recede
relentlessly
into the sea
and barren
I lie wasted
spent from the toil
again.

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.

I don't care about my reputation.
I am who I am.
And I don't hide to cover my pain,
I can tell you all about.
I've been to places and seen things
most people wouldn't believe.
But I know
that doesn't make me any better
than anyone else.
It just makes me more gracious.
I love the human soul
and I adore real angels
and I can't help it
when someone sweet
comes around,
I want to hold onto them forever,
because I know forever
is a ******* fairy tale.

I am all heart,
bits & pieces
of red-muscle,
stiched together
with pain,
my veins
still pumping.

I am not a puppet
on a string.

I am not made of wood.
I am real bone
and flesh,
not paper mache.

But I want you
to pull my strings
anyway.

Please.

I think
I'm going to die
without
you
playing with
me.