Love can leave a terrible sting

especially when it has taken wing

The lover sits and knows why.

The sky is black and full of lies.

The cistern of my lust and desire;

squelched by water, oil and fire.

My heart, a blinking thing

gone mute.

Forgiveness never comes with truth.

That is where i went quit wrong.

Months and months of a sad, sick song.

Finally, lover's coals are put on the hearth.

There they stay till  winter's march.

A miracle of plain design, so quietly it sneaks

in with its design.

My heart a happy beast at last.

Love returned  bravely but will it last?

Love was betrayed in winter's stillness;

it withered under silent snow.

I stare out windows made of ice and

see the yard's gate half closed.

My frozen garden has lost its bloom;

a brown stained rose on the window sill

a reminder still.

While embers smolder in the hearth

a grey sky fosters surrender.

My banal deed is a sheet of ice,

touching it stings your fingers.

A bitter taste is in my mouth for

lies can never hold a love for long.

The tea kettle still hisses, steam curls

into the room of barren table, two empty chairs.

Excruciating is the heaviness in my chest.

Betrayal is the cowards way;

love is only for the brave,

Someone left me a *** of marigolds

on my white porch floor

Afraid to pick them up

I left them near the door

The paper boy knocked them over

dirt spilled out on the wood

The mailman stepped in the dirt

and smeared it as he should

I righted the *** and saw it was dry

then left it in the afternoon sun

and the vermilion sky

Days went by and the preacher called

He asked about the plant

I shrugged my shoulders and took

his pamphlets fast

No one ever told me where those

marigolds came from

I assumed it was the devil

as he was the only one

Who knew I killed my husband

and I would go to jail

A trial would condemn me

they would hang me

by a nail

If you receive such a ***

know your time has come

Leave the marigolds where

they are to die

Giving you time to just go on.....

I sank my soul in the salt of sea.
The sea spit it back to me.
The wind would not take it, the air let it be.
Then I saw it ...the live thing  at the edge of the sea.
The sea licked it clean till it could stare at me.
The soul looked up from the slime  to be free.
We pour out our sweat and our seed.
In time lie down and  finally just be.
Nothing has changed not you or me.
The dead old world is full of decay.
The telephone rings and rings away.
Dark hell is the number written on the wall.
I wrote it there when I was small.
My savage heart cries out to what?
All is gone and turned to dust.
I saw the corpse when they took it away.
Now, my soul has no where to stay.

My song is sad it makes me cry.
Alone in this world and waiting to die.
When we have used up every ruse
and can't find a new convention;
we are left with shadows and little attention.
We ask ourselves, what did it mean?
It was being human without a dream.
The dream is what makes life an adventure.
Without it, life is empty with no exception...

Deaf to nature's harmony creates a deviation

not meant as God's creation.

The unnatural bent is towards

false pleasures;

fools can reflect at their leisure.

Climb an ascent and see fire in the sky

is perfect harmony as it zig zags by

but the old male beast sees only youth

when all is worn; dumbness or delusion,

it remains illusion.

Life in a greater sense is harmony not madness,

performed not by chance but in nature's fullness.

The Wizard knocks upon my door.

The hour is late

stale breath I adore.

I let him in with his bottle of gin.

He grins at me toothless then

grabs the tin...

a cup I save just for him.

What loquacious tale he may tell

doesn't sit with my mutton and his smell.

He is pretty drunk and so am I.

Can't seem to open my sightless eye...

Why I invite him in each night?

Is the reason mother sits dead in fright.

She stares at us from across the room.

I only hit her once with the broom.

The Wizard promised she'd soon be gone.

You know Wizards, they're full of moon.

So, I let him in when it gets dark.

We plan each night another brain ****.

Mother just won't go away. She's bloated

and smells as  the ugliest  ****. But, soon

we will figure something out when the gin

runs low and our lights go out.

We drown in fragrant fluids
of the flesh
A gasp...A sigh...The little death
A silent hand strokes back our breath

No longer strangers...eye to eye
Our limbs entwined
A moment longer
And then...

We wait for the rain to flatten loves blossoms.

The frail liquid that runs down our cheeks.

The ravens oily feathers slick with rain.

The sheets on the line sagging downward.

We turn our faces upwards and open our lips.

Rain tastes of love now and over...

Holding each other as if the world is ending.

Because we know in our tangled dreams

And nightmares it really is...

Will the rain stop beating down as our hearts?

Will the birds lie unburied?

We  kiss in desperation and frustration.

Shivering in the mist that rises and the vines

that coil around our bodies.

A sparrow flies out of your mouth.

The vines grow tighter.

The rain has stopped and all that's left

is a dreadful silence.

Our world has ended.

Birds were the last surviving dinosaurs.

A dying heavenly light

signals home

as I lay dying

all alone.

The buckboard

bucks and rattles down

the blazing dust

of country road;

toward the gentle

green of tree

high on the hill

a plot for me.

I rave against the burn,

the sting of death;

no more to yearn.

I rage against the diggers *****.

Peace at rest where i am laid.

Free from this final walk on fire.

I've climbed to a celestial shire.

Lamp light glows through drops of resin

Trapped life in heavy honey

Honey  that flowed from ancient trees


Your pale finger touches the smooth

surface of soft stone


Eons of treasure in cased in sap;

into our brief tomorrows

you wear these  fragil jewels...



The drops of resin like you

preserved forever in a beautiful

magic from the past...Rarefied

My ashes will hold my destiny;
nestled in a cool dark vase
tossed out to sea
I will not pass into nothingness
but a sweet sleep
sailing the ocean of death
whipped cream waves
will lick my cheeks
Remember me as a crystal
in the snow
Remember me as sunlight
on golden grain
Feel me in the autumn rains
I have cast off an over-coat
of clay
Remember the beauty
of our summer days
See me in twilight
where we played
The beauty of the flesh
vanishes but is destined
for memory
I will look at you again
Toss my ashes to the winds
And remember me!

Conspiracy is just a word…

senseless death of innocents

is all too real.

Pray for those unknown heroes

who rode a plane through Hell;

who died not really knowing

and will never be able to tell.

In the quiet rain of this September,

amidst the ashes and the pain;

try to remember with prayer:

each and every name.

Out of a weeping forest a mysterious river flows.

It carries all the souls who lost their way and

have found no place to go.

The river travels very far into the womb of sea.

There the souls met others who came this way to be.

They gather round in floating fright wondering if it

is day or night.

They ponder their predicament and find no answer

to make things right.

The forest where they lost their way weeps for

them every day.

The river gently rushes through collecting those

who must pay their dues.

The ocean's womb is a forever thing that is

the tradegy, that is the sting.

One way in and no way out...

forever doomed to eternal doubt.

In a heady perfumed night…

Spanish guitars strung out a snare,

Soldiers crowed the border town

to see the Gypsy fair

Gypsy wagons, colorful and garish

circled the camp fires near the barracks.

Gypsies wandered freely their mongrel dogs did howl.

Gypsy’s drinking ***, stealing and making dog stew.

Some claimed they put in magic herbs to

boil a man’s skin raw.

Others said the opposite, it came out as a draw.

The violet dusky sky seemed to fall into the sea.

Bonfires burned and ravished the evening gaiety.

Sweat was running just waiting to see her.

She’d leave them broke and *** soaked;

but they cared not in their desire.

Just before the clock struck ten a wagon

door swung free.

A garter ed stocking leg emerged and men forgot

to ***.

The guitars began and then the drums until

the lady was among the wild eyed bunch.

Her colorful skirts, taffeta swished. bracelets graced

her slender arms, luscious breast heaved into sight;

men thought they would go blind.

And from her ears hung gold earrings dangling seven sparkling

moons. Her black eyes glistened as she made her snake like moves.

Her feet were bare and a golden scarf wound round her raven hair.

Slowly, She began her dance. to the ,melody of stars. The faster her body moved

her hips swung loose gyrating like in grooves.

Out of the shadows a dark figure appeared. No one noticed; her body was their

cheer. No one saw him pull out a knife and walk towards the girl.

Her torso grew more snake like with every ***** move.

His suit was black with silver studs.His boots were to the knee. A cigar hung out the side

of his mouth.  His meanness was plain to see. At last the girl saw him. She whirled away towards

her wagon; a ****** threw himself before the stranger. To late, He kicked the little man and

then began his wager. His voice was like a fog horn, smoked poured from out his nose.

Rosanna .grabbed the wagon door. He reached and pulled her close. A golden object dropped

in the dirt, no one picked it up. He twisted the girl till her breast were glued to his chest.

“next time you rob me. you gypsy *****, be sure what you take.” he tore the other earring off

and flesh came along as well. He shoved her to the ground and kicked her in the belly.

“Try to pass off a dead brat now, to hell with you and many.” He threw the other earring down on

her blood soaked blouse. He strode passed the dazed men and leaped upon his horse.

The girl  lay very still. No one moved till he was gone. Then they rushed to Rosanna

and saw her final blush. When he had been holding her he stuck his knife in her breast. She was dead

in the red dirt  and *** soaked breaths.

A legend grew from this incident, Rosanna of the seven moons. Folks said she was with child. They said

she was a ruse. After the terror filled moment her body disappeared. All that was left was a golden earring

that turned out to be fools gold. The strangest thing that had happened ,all the men had been robbed, Their

love for Rosanna blotted out the loss. No one cared about the money. All they wanted was to see Rosanna

dance before their lust was lost.

Many years later, a stranger passing through, said he’d found a golden earring with seven large moons.



Read more: http://authspot.com/poetry/rosanna-and-the-seven-moons/#ixzz0tUwFn8hz

Oh! restless soul you sail on salty breezes

rest on rocky shores

Speak to me?

Let me know you hear my voice



A waft of licorice stirs my memory

Childhood stands tall

like a tin soldier

Is that where you are?



In the incestuous wasteland

of a child's bedroom

I lost you

Lost you to shame



I search diligently for you

as you float

among gravestones

and dance with the ghosts



I seek you in the dark

in the light

in the church and the street

I cry out for you



Sadly, like a child

with the dim recall of a

lost ice cream cone

melting in the gutter...

Out of summer linen

the pale scent of roses

rises

like your red hair

rising from the azure sea

Your skin the color of linen

waiting on the old bed

waiting for the afternoon

the siesta

the swoon

While the scent of roses

rises

from your linen flesh

Pink succulent

slightly warm

A cool breeze touches

the gauze curtains

Licks the salt on

your skin

Snatches your scent

carrying it on a wanton wind

back out to sea

The ruined church yard hidden
in a wild haunted glen...strangled by red ivy
and rope like vines.
A relic buried under moss and sod...
The stench of deadly flowers...
beautiful and sick.
Spirits hover like vapor in a blue mist.
Fog hangs on broken statues: headless angels,
saints with no lips.

A pitiful howl, haunts the glen. Frightens
the country folk who gasp as they pass;
a headless horseman would cause such fear.
The legend says, if you look and the beast catches
your  eye, you will die with blood to **** until
you are dry. Your tongue will swell and hang
out your mouth. you'll join his legions lined
up for sport. He'll giggle and wiggle you till
your body just fails.

Hawks hover in covens ore the old grave plots;
headstones smashed and holes in the ground
where coffins were found.
Corpses buried with all their blood. No under-taker
in this back woods town.
The beast is angry and lusting too. He hears her laughter:
his siren from hell. Where did he plant her? He cannot
recall. He laughed at his legions propped up against
the wall. His army of ghouls so soiled and bald.

The beast falls to his hairy knees. "Please spirits, where
she be? Let me lick her clean. I have a desperate longing
for this zomie queen. I burn with lust and desire."
The spirits laugh, "This is your fate. Why did you ****
her if your love so great?" "Love!" the Beast's  yellow eyes
blazed. "I just want to **** the blood between her legs."
"Your soul is worthless even to Beelzebud. Your paramour
interests him too." "No, she is dead.He cannot want a corpse.
Oh God, he'll turn her into a vampire and I'll be lost."

"Oh spirits. what can I do?" "Why don't you die, then we can
take him your giant eye." A scream let out in blasts of flame.
"Go back from where you came.  Let her spread her fleshless legs
for that lean adhorred monster. Let him make her one. Vancre La
****. *****! If he wants her more. Her blood is black but sweet
as cheeries. Now, she is but a bloated corpse. She lost her
beauty. Let him have her. I care not."
The Beasts rears up and beats his chest. He howls and  crys.
He bites his own arm; the pleasure of pain.

"I seduced her into my art. If she wants the devil gone is my
heart.,if ever there was one in the start. I've been tricked.I sold
my soul to have her blood to restore me new." The spirits giggled.
"You're dead, you fool. You are the ghost of the beast in all men.
Hold her bare bones till they crumble to dust. She will be gone
and what have you left? Men always **** the thing they love.
HOWL IN THE NIGHT! You can't **** her blood...

AHHHHHHH....

The wind whispers softly

leaving shadows in my mind

Once in desperate fury she left

boundless debris behind

The withered holly berries like

an old man's weathered face

While the milk has spoiled

unfit for pudding cake

Winter roses from the garden

fall limp

a tarnished gold

The wastebasket full of things

I  never should have sold

I mean to leave this place

Put it far out of my mind

Yet, those shadows cling

to inner places wasting

all my time

I crush the roses flat

one by bleeding one



You never planned on coming back

to make this place our fun



The wind she's in a fury

pulling branches from the trees

This seems to be what's missing

And what those shadows need

I glance outside at winter

Sadness pulls the shadows back

It lets me hold last moments

To see what's left behind

No love, no cheer, no pudding cake

I must have lost my mind

I grab my coat and cap

And grind  holly into chime

I open the door to face the storm

Feeling strangely out of time

There you stand

staring straight at me

With shadows in your eyes

I went to sleep in a slipstream
Woke to a world gone mad
Red ran like a river down barren streets
All was upside down
The sky was a seamless grey
People were black and white
Lost in an old time movie
The sight filled me with fright

I heard a hideous laughter
A one eyed magician poked me straight
Pick a card, he said
Pick a card or forever exist in exile
before it is all too late...

Cherry blossoms
Infatuation is fleeting
Blossoms fly with the wind


Barren budding trees
The funeral is over
Snow is melting

The honeyed scents of a summer’s eve

float towards a dying sun.

The dancing violet shadows on the canyon wall;

oft terrify our dog.

We sit  together on the  tiled patio

cold beneath our bare feet.

We listen to the ocean roar.

Soon fog and mist drive us closer

together inside our door.

We’ve done this on many summer’s eves;

just you and I and the old dog.

Sometimes we all nod off and

dream of  summers gone.

Terrible truths have been gagged by rags

in the mouth of man.

He cannot speak in this cellar of souls for

things of ourselves  are hidden

in dark places.

A dark, where silent  lies are told.

Man did gag his truthful voice because

of no understanding.

The way of the beast in the field is man's way.

But, he refuses redeeming his due.

So, man stays dead in soul

with no words to save him.

So, frightened of those terrible truths

forever mute and raving.

Tree branches glisten like diamond chains.

Frozen lips want to sing old refrains.

Home, and hearth, Thanksgiving too...

friends, and relatives, the house is a zoo.

Frozen outdoors as the fresh turkey arrives.

Mother in apron is sure to preside.

Pumpkin pie, spiced cider, cranberries glisten,

father tells his jokes and nobody listens.

Sister arrives with rose hips and blooms;

a dazzling display in the living room.

We all gather together to feast at the table.

Say a quick prayer and eat as much as we're able.

Old Charlie was a winning

the gambling game that night.

He was in a frenzy glorious with

sheer delight.

He'd swig another jigger of his

favorite ***,

then laugh his head off, he was really

on a run.

He'd met a tiny man before this

gambling match

who promised all the gold just

for a lighted match.

Charlie lite the little man's cigar

and the little man blew

smoke on Charlie's wrinkled cards.

"Now, you accepted the deal," the

little man said.

"I'll be back to collect my investment,

you have to pay the debt."

Charlie just shook his head

and sat with his pals with flashing cards

of death.

The clock struck twelve and Charlie

had beaten all the rest.. One begged

for mercy, for his kids but Charlie

only growled. "I won the gold fair

and square, out with you to bed."

Charlie sat with all his gold and the

*** went to is head.

The door opened into Charlie's room

and entered a shadowed shape.

A voice from Hades growled with

lust and Charlie nearly fainted.

"Time to pay what I invested in thee."

the voice was hot and fierce.

Charlie's fright sent his heart

a quiver and he fell towards

the hearth.

"Get up you fool, you'll be charred later

now I want my debt, no later."

"Here's  all the gold." Charlie whimpered.

The dark One only laughed. "Ti's not the

gold we bargained for it is another matter."

In the morning the pile of gold shone

brightly on the table.

All that remained of Charlie was a

*** glass and a shadow,

you are

a dark thing

between shadow and light

hidden

till i find you

fresh earthy fragrance

your cold hand on

my chest

in sleep

you live darkly

in my slumber

as a blue vapor hovers

in the room

you will dissolve

as the dark blood

leaves my

memory

drained of breath

till you cease to be

or we finally

burn together

I am with the crazy ladies

who sit giggling in the loony bin.

We pick at our skin, our clothes;

we wiggle and yawn.

Heads wobble, jaws drop

tongues dart in and out

green canvas slippers cover

our toes.

Know this! I don't belong here.

Waiting for the pill cart

after eating prunes.

We shuffle back to our sterile

blue rooms.

I crawl on the floor.

My tiny ******* are sore.

I think a lot about death.

Someone shouts, "Get up, you're a mess."

I am the duchess of death.

They should beware.

I was a sleep-monger once.

Queen of a pill condition;

planting bombs in my brain.

They will transform me here.

Not before I get to the ****** Islands.

Where I will take off all my clothes

and paste prunes on my *******.

What news do you have about

the last twelve weeks?

Hurry up! I'll be leaving soon.

Darkness falls like

a drop cloth

Colors are gone

hidden

In the corner

sits a cat

It is purring

The cat likes darkness

A broom is lifted

by a silent hand

The colors come

bursting red, orange, hell

The cat snarls

disturbed

mean

A shaft of light strikes the

floor

All goes up in flames

Ferryman, ferryman don't come for me,

the children sing freely

in the bright sunlight.

When gathered together on a dark

stormy night...

they pull covers over heads

to stay out of sight.



He takes the coins

from the eyes of the dead.

His payment for the travels

he plans ahead.

When payment is made

he guides his guests

to make their final hopeless quest.

He beckons with a gruesome smile

and they board his craft with little guile.

The river is swift...the river is long...

He ferries them right along until he

crosses  the river when he blows his horn.

He looks around and all are gone.



It is said on dark lonely nights,

the Ferryman is out to fright.

Who dares to board his ferry boat

are the dead who have lost all hope.

When innocent children hear his horn

they run like hell to beat his harm.

Your coin colored eyes

were a disguise

Shiny bright and almost new

My eyes would turn away

from you

The glare of surf and sand

waves of rising fog

Created a mirage as

you blinded me

and took my hand

You lead me down the

lonely beach

To a place where no one

speaks

I looked into your eyes

at last

And found my sight

my voice

my dance

The road was a ghostly ribbon:

a strange violet hue.

The sycamore trees ******* thrashing

as a frenzied wind blew.

A dark cloaked horseman

appeared on the horizon’s edge.

He whipped his horse forward;

this horse almost flew.

The pounding hooves echoed

down the cobbled road.

The  madman charged forward

with his deadly load.

They never caught the horseman

who murdered her father that night.

He shot his pistol once then the old man died.

No're was he ever seen again

after the red cobbles dried.

They never found his stallion

with nostrils flaming fire'

who flew like a dragon

until the prey expired.

The girl wept and moaned

at her window. Always watching for him.

Watching the winding road ;she could redeem his sin.

A kiss my darling sweetheart, kiss and let me fly.

His shadow was imprinted on  clean cobbles.

His scarf around her neck but nothing made things right.

The devil surely wanted him

and death breathed down his trek.

They searched  swearing they'd catch the wretch yet found

no trace of him. The girl she smiled sadly.

For now he rode the wind.

The human imperative tells you this if

nobody tried to live this way the useful world would be in vain.

A man, like me, sitting on this sagging bed, staring at the green

greased stained walls disgusted with the human imperative is unique.

I detest the ***** smell in the dingy brown halls and

the communal bathroom with bugs on the wall.

I know why you had me taken away not jailed this time.

I didn't hit you just spilled whiskey on your imperative new

furniture and dress. Now, whiskey is spilled on this brown

stained carpet and I have no more money. You saw to that!

I'm too sick to panhandle. Nothing to pawn. And the human

imperative makes me sicker. It doesn't consider really gut

hunger for love, ***, food, sleep, oblivion from the mind's

torments of failure. I didn't expect much from this life.

My brilliance kept me above the rest. I am brilliant enough to

know life can end here till they throw you in the alley to die.

There is no where to go. You say recovery? I say, Bull!

No one recovers from a plan like this. Not when you were

King of the road. Not when you wouldn't concede to others

needs because they were banal and stupid and nobody

accepted you drunk. I didn't hit you this time. I know when

I hit you. Some don't. I know I made a mess and was bad.

**** it, once in awhile one of us gets away. They do, imperative

or not...

Out of the dream I hear it

the distant thunder.

I hear the cry of children;

love will hold back darkness,

love will hold back death.

The sky is violet, red

clouds have bled this day;

smoke rises from the ashes,

guns are put away.

In the distant thunder

I hear an infant cry;

love holds it safe at harbor,

love rocks it in the sway.

The dreamer goes on dreaming;

waiting for the new world

where madness done and hate...

Now, the sky is golden,

something new appears above.

The thunder rolls asunder

no one wanders to the grave.

Forever dreaming until the Lathe

says, Go! Accept the truth that

nothing endures, nothing is precise

one with rock and still alive...

dreamers we now know the world

is paradox and fate...

The Mulberry butcher was amazed

a packet of kidneys arrived and glazed.

Where did this wonderful treat come from?

It said on the label, Choice, US, One,

The Chief of Police was having a fit;

twenty young women  

reported missing and found ripped.

Ripped through the throat and the back

as well

somebody was destined to go to hell.

The coroner cried, My God, look how they died!

He sliced their neck, took out their eyes and

then, My God the kidneys too!

This man surely belongs in a zoo.

The Chief, he knew, at once,

the Rippers return had given him lunch.

The road is long my friend, my friend

Longer still until the end

It makes us ***** and sadness filled

Each time we try to climb that hill

We stumble in ruts that stab our souls

We look for light but darkness fills

All the places our hearts desire

Angry we feel full of fire

If only a kind hand would extend

And help us climb towards the end....

I started to cry

beneath our old willow

tree

Those tender thoughts

of you and me

So many years

have come and gone

The love we shared

burnished by sun

Jumping off the old

wood pier

Wet kisses before

we got to shore

You gave me a ring

it made my finger black

I carry that ring still

in a sack

They told me you'd

died

in some crazy war

No matter the memories

I still want to store

I stand alone under

the old willow tree

I remember your love

and it sets me free...

Love conquers all

under this tree

The first sign...

A flock of ravens hurling

Down to the dirt

Small black bodies broken

The second sign

Silence

The third sign

All the bees disappeared

The fourth sign

The frantic beating of wings

The fifth sign

All the fields of harvest flamed

Fire red

The sixth sign

The sky turned black as coal

The seventh and last sign

Was death

Then a dreadful silence

No one saw the signs...

It is 1943 and the world has ended as we once knew it.

I drive you to the air strip in the rain.

Purple dusky shadows slide across the strip.

I am wearing strong leather shoes with ties.

I am hoping they hold me stable.

We get out and walk towards the waiting plane.

I look back at our sturdy little Studebaker.

It pales next to the plane.

A waft of chanel rises from my neck.

Do you smell it?

We climb the ramp, you holding your luggage.

We look at each other. What do we say now?

"There will always be Portland?"

Who ever heard of the small West Coast town?

You are covered in uniform. I desperately try

to get my green leather gloves off.

I look at the small emerald ring.

At least I have something.

I want to touch your face but you scare me.

Your air force uniform and hat are so intimidating.

I hear the engines; the propellers start to turn.

A gust of air hits me and my hair is tangled.

Are you going to kiss me? Or, do I kiss you?

Stupid. Why don't we speak?

War is unreal. But, I'm going to work in a shipyard.

We already have black outs. Fear has a distinctive odor.

At least I'm not pregnant. So many women are.

They are counting on America. America is young

and full of grit and  bravery and heroism.

You touch me. You are going. You kiss my cheek.

I recoil like I was slapped. Your face turns ashen.

You disappears inside the plane. I hurry done the ramp.

I hurry to our car: your car. I sit in the old brown seat.

and wait. The plane takes off. Up into a misty darkness.

I expect it to explode. I turn the ring around and around

on my finger till it hurts. I finally feel something. Pain.

I start the car and head towards the highway.

Traveling down the road I begin to relax and suddenly

I feel relief. It is over and I will go back to life again.

And you are flying into death....

In the midst of regal red
Orange flaming like a ****
It sneaks out
Euphonious as rain on a pond
Mellow sunlight,  warm days
Cool not chilly nights
Roses bloom anew
Nature takes a breath and sighs
The second Spring holds back;
the tears of time

Out of the dark shadows
a night bird shrieks

The howl of the lost
and forgotten
   chatters the green monkey

The man with a red guitar
dances in the Mexican heat

Discordant broken strings
of music
   fill the desolute night

The shreik of the green monkey
murders the soul...

The signs ignored

in apathy and guilt

Death receives a special invitation to

the dance of mindless violence

Sound is red with blood

a single sigh translates

pain of dying hope

Hearts pound like ocean waves

in a storm

The body frail

in the face of gun, knife or bomb

Only the soul survives

the ravages of chaos and death

While, time the thief

steals memory

Minds pale in grief

in an unshaven darkness

of impending horror...

I reach across the table to touch your hand.

Fine hands, long slender fingers, pale pink and soft...

so soft...

I long to feel your hand silently caress my cheek.

I hunger for the softness that hides a secret sexuality.

You are secret.

You keep yourself refined to a pitch.

I want to know that pitch; can your hands take me there?

I want to know every part of you, I know there is more

hidden softness.

Softness between the folds of your plump round *******.

Softness of the skin between your legs and buttocks.

I look into your soft brown eyes and see your hunger.

Are you just too soft for me to go deeper?

The agony I feel...

The frustration of intense longing.

Let me in, please. The velvet softness of your hands

makes me insane for you.

I will go mad for the softness,

You take your hands back and fold them.

You are wise to your treasure and making me wait

increases the excitement.

The pleasure I will someday feel inside you.

In the begining...

It was not a void...miracles were happening in a
Time before Time.

Time pasr...Time present...Time future...

The earth may be shifting; she shifted before...

We make it happen when we open the door:
eternal Time.

All matter contains life. Talk to the stone.

When we accept this truth we are never alone.

The Law states: We cannot go backward--
forward we must go.

There is no death only change of form. Now, do you know?

We are in the song which is yet to be sung.

Forever and always, we will never be done.

Not this Time!

The sun is like a blood stained egg yolk

The world gone mad

deranged with grief

Sheltered by the solid oak

I cry my heart into my throat

I cannot breath

A wind came with thunder

in the trees

The dust is choking me

I begin to bleed

My hands stung by nettles

My feet caught in  thistles

Nature gone mad before my eyes

Is this the way we intend to die?

KMCOLBY@20111



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