I remember grape vines
Round sweet purple bulbs
With droplets of clear water
They slide concave
Into my lips
Sweet
And sun flavored.
On the cool grass I lay
The moist soil
Seeping through,
Wetting my skin
Feels good.

Sweet humanity
Has a conception ever been so sweet?
So sweet to make lips pucker
In kindly ecstasy?

Sweet and once dear human race
We seem to have erased
Will you ever raise your heads out from
That ocean of cruel intent?

Those waters harbor destruction
They fester, peeling away
Those stagnant waters decompose
Dissolving man’s soul away.

How low we all have sunk
Those eyes now see no more
Those thoughts of action grind to a halt
A cessation that leaves an echo.

No more does a message steal away
The tears of sympathy
We now slide into a faithless time
Love has been lost to bitter grief.

Our eyes are blind to tyranny
Our ears shut out tortured cries
And our once sorrow-ridden eyes
Grow numb to hate and crime.

So now we see and turn away
Sweet humanity has lost its way
So now I cry
And change the name

Of humanity
To inhumane.

Let the holy blood flow from outstretched palm
See the wounds of Christ displayed as an open book
Preach the words of His holy name through righteous pain.
Holy are those blessed with such a curse
Pray on numbed knees and reach into your habit to retrieve
Worn rosary beads.
They click against each other while held up to the forehead
Each bead being caressed with love between the index and thumb.
On that floor cold from the December air
Before the roaring fire of faith
The blood of the stigmata drips
And floods
Encasing the cross of Christ hanging before your chest.
Let the heart beat
Let the heart beat that wants to be the fool for God.
In your coarse habit kneel let the garment underneath
Quell any desire, defeat Lucifer by denying yourself.
Confess sins brought about through remorse of being
The king of youth.
Peace and love
Pace e bene!
Let not the trails of this world tarnish the silver that is
The inner radiance
Let his golden heart melt
And jump whole heart into his pool of love.
The blood runs down wrists and forms the drops
That falls from the elbow
Though weakened you are the strongest
Knight of Christ.

We quell our thirsts with drops of words
From dew dripped quills.
To taste the flavour of phrases
It is delicious to the mind.
The senses revel in symphonies
Made stories-poetry.
To write the world is not a novel
But rather inspire verses.

Twice amongst the meadows watching
from behind a Cyprus tree
he stares at thee with anxious waiting
glances nervous as he yearns for thee.

Twice amongst the meadows walking
plucking  blossoms as they bloom
release from capsules such a fragrance
that make the glorious angels swoon.

He tasted bitter poppy petals
chewed to paste they cling and swell
to the innards of his teeth
each tiny bud they do expel.

grass and sun combine to create
an early summers reckoning
that bring about the union of
springs infant buds to bring to she.

From behind his hiding place
he comes to thee with frail mutterings
coyly he presents an antidote
to cure your failing frame.

As that maiden swoons from fever
pale as winter's deadly moon
fight she does for every swallow
that comes from each shallow breath.

Indeed her lover knows her sickness
and with ointment doth he bring
but to late he comes to aid her
for he is a timid thing.

In his arms she breaths her last
and with her dying plea
she implored as to why
he withheld his love from she.

Sit alone aside from all
Aloof you wallow curled in pain
Your inner self is slowly dying
As love and time slip away.

Down among the window pane
The rain slides down the glass
Below the people are drowning
Within their hopes that failed to pass.  

Assembling their rotted lives
They walk and while they stand they fall.
Eaten out by maggots they crumble lost
Inside a case battered so.

Eventually time will pass us by
Just as a gust sent from the sky
Just like the sweet morning dew
The sun that rises cures the brew
Just like the witch aloof from you
She brews, she brews? Just like the dew
On now the ticking of the clock upon my wall of flowered pots
The tick and tock repetitive
Tie time that sheds upon my head
It flies away just like a bird, a bird?
Oh yes a lovely dove.