If I could be any bug
in the whole wide world,
I'd choose to be
a nasty chigger
& you'd find me
happily-scratching
in the waistband
of my favorite
flowered-*******.

If I could capture stardust,
I would.
I'd bottle it up
and gift it to you
forever.

If I could,
if I could lift you up
lying there
& hold you by the hips,
I'd get my point across
& you'd, you'd
revel in my sweet-message,
so splendidly.

If, if
by some lucky star
you remember me
for a fleeting moment,
perhaps a second,
I, I
will cry a single tear,
a single tear of joy.

The rythym she played
took me by surprise,
above me
she straddled my thighs
& in the blink of an eye,
I was surrounded
by her warmth,
lay captive to her spirit
& as she arched,
displayed her full array
of heavenly assets,
I explosively
filled her cup.

I miss the way she smiled at me.
If I look hard enough,
I can see her standing there,
curlers in her hair,
kissing me
before the cancer took her.

Lying in bed solo,
I never realized
until just this moment,
the whispering
I thought I was hearing
all these years,
was just the a/c vent
set to a lower temperature.
That's loneliness.

If it's good enough
for the monkey,
then just give it to me first.
Why risk it,
jeopardize
its life?

If I was a droid,
life wouldn't feel the same.
I'd see the world through holograms,
kiss cold-lips, feel just a bit of heat in my LED.
My joints would be motorized-gears, not sinew.

But would I even have the emotion to want to kiss,
any desire to engage in such physical contact?
There would be no need for any of that.
Everything would be just useless-information.
There would be no warmth from the sun
on my Teflon skin, no ***-***** to act
on my lack of inhibitions,
smell would mean nothing.

So I guess,
if I were a droid,
I'd be bored to death &
not living, just existing
in a body containing
diodes & transistors,
hard drives & resistors.

I'd be integrated, solid-state,
driving a data-bus to nowhere,
doomed to misery,
a pathetic, an unfeeling state,
without a real date.

If I were a replicant,
I'd definitely
look at things differently.
I don't know exactly
what I'd do specifically,
but I guarantee you this,
I would live each day to the fullest,
empty my bucket continuously.
And one thing's for sure,
Priss would be my girl,
she rocked it.

I know I have
my share of problems
& it doesn't get any easier
not being able
to wrap your arms around me,
to pull my fingers
through your nice hair.

You were always
a natural high for me,
rock steady,
trustworthy,
my healthy dose of lust.

I trust you are well
& will always wish you
the best
in everything that you do,
even if
or if
you never
think about me, too.

I would lick the crevice
of her spine,
from the pool
in the small of her back,
slowly up
between her blades
onto her slender neck
& all the while
teasing her
with my
gentle handiwork,
until she begs me
never
to stop.

There's a circadian rhythm here,
muffled voices & murmurs,
the clack of gum,
a screaming child,
the perfect place to dream
& I do,
about her.

She's just figment
of my wildest imaginations
& if she only knew
how I'd treat her,
she'd come,
alive.

I contemplate often,
am curious about
the strangest things.
Sitting in awe,
I wonder if stars feel pain
when they die,
when they fall down to Earth,
a beautiful spectacle,
in a blaze of glory.

I still believe in magic.
I just know
she's got some
kind of a spell on me.

Everywhere I look,
I see her pretty penetrating-eyes.

Everywhere I sniff,
her sweet-fragrance permeates
right through me.

Everywhere I touch
in the wee hours,
she's there in fiery-spirit.

Everywhere I eat,
I taste her delicious musk,
it satisfies my wanton-appetite.

I kiss the air to feel her
& she's there
kissing me back.

I am smitten by her runes,
in tune with her
on the same astral plane.
She is in my soul
at a transcendent level.
If that's not a love spell,
then I don't know what is.

I felt you last night,
squirmed all night long,
your playful hands
making fresh discoveries,
making me
happy,
grin ear to ear
& I wondered if,
if we'll
ever meet,
to greet
the coming
of a new day.

Do you hear my heartbeat,
beating at a million
miles a second
& do you feel me
trembling,
shuddering
like a violent earthquake
as I release
my passion
alone,
in the darkness
of my empty lair?

And if you did,
you would know Darling
the real meaning
of loneliness
& of sensuous-despair.

You wanted it all,
knew I would crawl
through fire
just to have you
under me
& when I did,
you took me in,
all, every
single inch of me
buried deep
& I'm still not sure
why you left.
Was it because
I had no more,
I weep....

At first,
my words
enter my mind slowly,
giving me a chance
to formulate
a real-romance.
It's the way I like
to start a written-piece,
so thirsty to inspire,
to build,
a fire in you.

Then I begin
to speed up some,
to dribble hot-metaphors,
open closed doors.
Sometimes
my flow of diatribe
is disjointed,
but most times,
I'm perfectly clear,
flowing descriptive verse,
'cause nothing is worse
than an interruption
of the spirit.

Once I get started,
I build my thoughts
a lot quicker,
losing my mind,
the tempo drives
me totally insane,
to the very brink
of an explosion
of my soul.

It's all I can do
to hold back,
to go back to slowly,
trying to regulate
my escalated state
of these heightened-feelings.

When I try to slow
things down to a crawl,
it gives me a bit
more time
to think,
to think of ways that
play further
on your desirous-mind.

Then again,
the pace increases,
the mental-friction does heat up
& I am quickly overwhelmed,
driving you wild like this.

You should see
the smile on my face
when my rapid
spurts of sensuous thoughts
get penned to paper,
I give you
all of my heart.

O My Gracious Dreamy One,
Mi Heaven-sent Amore,
I do so love,
I do so love
the excellent
breathtaking-views
lying from atop
your granite tips,
your gorgeous
hardened-peaks!

But I,
I must tell You
quite succinctly
Darling,
your valley is much,
much,
so much sweeter,
it touches my soul,
that sacred place,
where your glacial streams
flow
&
pool
for me,
your most ardent,
admiring,
alpinist-lover!

Ronnie belted out lyrics
concerning simple men
and how we should feel,
but gosh **** it,
it just ain't that simple,
life ain't no song,
it's just not that easy.

We've been set up
from the beginning,
we're genetic freaks,
we have to carry
big ***** around
& face the brutal world
with a warrior spirit.

And how can we cry
with such big *****?
They swing, they hang
down so low,
it makes it rough
to even walk!

And for sure,
weeping would certainly
ruin our tough-guy reputation,
so we just stuff it,
& stride quietly undercover,
squirming with indignation,
carrying our heartbreak
like a bad disease,
'cause we're unable
to squeeze out
any real tears
in public.


Oh you ladies,
I feel for you, I really do,
but I got bigger ***** &
I can't even cry a single lick,
it makes me feel sick inside,
like I'm hiding.

I got my ticket punched
on the cosmic rail,
traveled at light speeds,
felt the need
for a change of scenery.
You should see the dark side of the moon,
the other side of the sun,
the stars in Andromeda.
I can punch your ticket.
Baby do you wanna go?
Do you Baby?

I'm convinced,
mass merchants
are destroying the planet.

Oh my God,
have you see the droves
of shoppers at Walmart?

I guess it was old fashioned
to walk along the shore
whispering
above the rising tides,
squeezing hands
& riding the waves
of endless passions.

I guess it was old fashioned
to hold your chin like that
& to kiss you so tenderly.

But it wasn't my fault
your knees grew weak
& you face planted in the surf,
bloodying your cute turned up nose.

I guess it was old fashioned
to offer you my clean shirt,
to blurt out I love you
after you had embarrassed
the hell out of yourself.

And I guess it was old fashioned
to apologize for my snickering
when I realized you might
have really gotten hurt.

But I guess I'm just old fashioned
to really care,
to really believe in love
& girls who have weak knees
& do face plants in the surf.

I was planted in a stiff seat
all day long,
in a mindless meeting
& behind the sun  
burned other stars
& all I could think about was her.
Pretty her,
with her million dollar smile
& natural essence,
the fragrance of sweet lavender
and summer rain.

And so,
I imagined myself
lying down
right next to her,
tracing my single-finger
across her  fine landscape
& kissing my pathway
to her promised land.

I hated the whistle,
because it meant
more human fodder,
made me hate God
& quit reciting
Our Fathers.

Yet I survived
to scream
another day,
thankfully.

I hate myself
when I break my diet,
put my hand into the cookie jar.
But if I hide them,
I go hungry.

There are so many upsides
to modern technology,
like the love for it
& the ability to see
deep space objects,
all the hairs on the leg of a bee.
But the fumes and horns
in abundance
kills the romance
& for that,
I hate the founders,
the founders
of the industrial age
who danced with certain death.

Foxes bark like dogs
as the morning star rises
to greet me
through blue ridge fog.

It feels as if
I have become
part of this
primordial forest,
sharing in its timeless rituals,
speaking a special language
& I bark back
to acknowledge
my gratitude.

I want to go to Romania,
split this vacuum,
fly jumbo
across the deep blue
into Bucharest.

I want to adopt a gypsy baby,
a fat one with olive skin,
one with Romany eyes,
cries all the time,
bangs its head
against the crib.

I want to be a saint,
make a difference
in at least one person's life.
I figured a gypsy baby
might be the most grateful.

Having another gypsy
as a parent
would certainly
be better than
a non-gypsy one.

I am in touch with myself,
especially in
the wee hours of the morning.
That's when I feel closest to you,
lost in fiery imaginations,
wishing you were here
to feel the heat
created
by my frictional
thoughts of you.
O Baby Doll,
You're so hot,
I'm burning up
in you.

What do think of baby
when you sleep alone,
when you toss and you turn,
when you end up fetal
in a stack of crumbled sheets?

Are you thinking of me,
are you going to places
deep in your sensuous mind,
are you riding me
in a fantasy world?

And do you feel me honey,
do you ******* breath
& do you get fulfilled?
Or are you,
are you having
just another nitemare
called loneliness?

I heard her piano tap out
a relentless melody,
calling me
to darker realms,
for this tune
was ancient,
a calling
from a beautiful ghost,
chained to pain,
heartbroken
& seeking shelter.

I heard some things about Don Juan.
I heard he was a handsome muscular guy
who cried a lot when nobody was looking.
I heard he had an imperfect upbringing.
The church infected his mind
during the days and at nights,
he was beaten by his father
while his mother looked on.
I heard all the pretty girls loved him.
They loved him for his money,
they loved him for their grand designs
& they loved him for his ****.
I also heard he was a writer,
a serious loving-poet,
writing endless verses,
trying hard,
to make
sense
of it all.

I tuned into my FM this morning
& heard a strange transmission,
some background noise.
I recognized the code
from my army days,
it was written in dots & dashes,
a series of instructions
for those who have
already arrived.

Jeanie, the mystery-girl
who sits in the desk next to me
jotted something down in her journal
then bolted to the door for lunch,
she was out quick like lightning
& hasn't returned.
Strange, nobody's
come back yet.

Right now,
there's an eerie silence
in the workplace,
explosions
out in the street.

I heard the bahnhof whistle blow,
it woke me up
& all I had left of you
was an empty matchbook,
stained sheets
& a black bra.

There were red marks
of you lips
on the wine glass, too
& I kissed them
because you were gone.

I heard them twinkling
in deadly silence,
high up, perched
in my rocky-nest,
I sat in camouflage,
my frigid-finger at the ready,
listening to them,
I thought about home
& death.

I straddled
the white-twins,
camped under the shadow
of ancient ice, basked
in the magic.

For days
I heard not
a single voice,
no human
passed my way.

Once
after midnight,
I heard a tonnage
of ice breakaway,
it sounded like thunder,
echoed out of my valley
& onto the altiplano.

After so much silence,
I became so astute
that I heard the sunrise.
Have you ever heard the sunrise?

Gripping,
I seized the moment,
arced a special delivery
for you
in the loneliness
of my darkened room
I heard your heart beat
& sighed
with my own
in my throat.

No one hears it,
this silence in my head
and this incessant feeling.

I want to be hugged,
wrap my arms around you
and glow inside you.

For real.

Sunlight snakes its way
into my open window
as I sit in solitude,
pondering
the distant past.

There is a stillness in the pines,
a hushed tone hangs, yet
I hear the crows crying
& I know it is a calling,
a calling to reach out,
to reach out
into the unknown
to cure my pain,
this thing called
loneliness.

You should hear the great noisy owl,
hooting outside in the dry cool air,
like there's no tomorrow,
as if it has no cares.

It's truly beautiful to hear one
so careless,
flying through the night.

I hope tomorrow
never comes.

I hear them crying
just under the surface,
crying outside the flock.
It's agonizing to hear
such innocent ones suffer,
so agonizing,
I want to cover my ears.

And though
I pray to
silence them,
I fear the loneliness more.

So I listen,
alone in the darkness,
desperate to
hear them sing,
to hear them cry,
"Baaaaaa, baaaaaa"
to me crying here,
just to feel alive.

I hear the whistle blowing,
standing here with my baggage,
I hear the whistle blowing
& the train is moving out.

The sacred ones
spin
circular,
tethered
to the womb
of the Mother,
pierced
forever.

See the sacred clowns
on the edge of tomorrow,
they sip sage tea.

I hear the winds,
I hear the winds
across
the great plains,
blowing
from the four.

The rumble of a distant jet
sparks my wanderlust,
takes me away
to other places,
do you hear one too?

Looking up,
I saw your shamrocks smiling
& held your face in reverence.

It was lady luck,
not fate,
on my side
who put me
in this sweet position.

And at the corners,
love runneth over
the turned-up
half moon,
there,
I crumbled.

We're going to get out of here,
one way or another we're gong to make it,
so there's really no reason to feel so much dread,
there's an incredible universe surrounding us,
everything is right here at our fingertips,
at our perusal to enjoy.

There are angels here.
Dark ones & those who seek light.
I know that sounds far-out,
seems rather trippy,
way too bizarre, but
we've just gotta believe
there's some purpose to
all of this craziness,
these broken hearts,
our personal dilemmas,
otherwise we're just
spinning our wheels,
treading deep water,
running in mundane places,
spitting in the sacred-wind.

After witnessing falling stars,
ghosts on the astral plane,
talking with zephyrs in outer space
& getting bitten by a vampire,
I'm convinced
there are celestial beings
watching over each of us.
Without giving away their secrets,
I get the feeling we're in good hands.
I hope so.

I want to tickle
your sensitivities,
taste your delicious flavor
at the corners.

I long to inhale
your sweet fragrance
throughout my entire days
& all of my nights.

O yes Dear Lady,
do not fight me,
you so inspire me,
you ignite my inner fire,
I hope you like my beard!

I imagine you
sitting there
on top
of the world,
our eyes meeting
with a sensual-glow
& me
twirling
my fingers
through
your flowing hair
that covers me
with your
sweet fragrance,
touching my soul.