spanish rose lingers in the corner
with some french sailor who is
just a breathing caricature
illustrated in ink and animated by alcohol
his four letter word vocabulary with deluxe cardboard delivery
but its his eyes that capture you
swimming in hundred proof they are
wise with miles of years
and wicked in a smoky dark room way
but she is too busy to notice
flirting with the stranger across the room
a traveling salesman with boxes
of rusty trinkets for crafty sale

meanwhile old jack is swinging on the gibbet
talking away the hours with his old flame and friends
he is a threadbare imitation of me
and that suits you fine
long as its three meals and a slice of pie
the essentials of easy living wrapped up in a lace hanky
its a little ***** and on the down low
but the whole digging in some
rich kids ***** laundry for loose change
never appealed to you all that much
so attached to old jack come to make your stand
both barrels smoking hot and ready to let loose
should any fool step to the line

we all watched with amusements
as the magician open his show with a shock and awe
that sputtered and fell
but we all loved his punch lines so much that we
cheered him on all night
the chorus girls got us all up and dancing little past three
and the suave singer had us cheek to cheek by dawn
it was another night to remember to be sure
memorable as stumpy swimming with the gators
we all shuffle barefoot in the sand
to our dusty beds
and dream sweetly of fiveash romance novella endings
and the beauties of dawn
we will be up to no good once more
all loud and proud
young and full'a *****
as a spring moon crests over seaside town

the girl in room five fifteen
the royal roach motel
sitting with her box of crackers
in the setting sun
most of the time shes focused on the path
to the next drama free dream
but tonight shes putting on that red dress
and fixing up a confused face to put on
and picking up the keys to the kingdom
she strolls out the door
and up on  the avenue
shes a smile to thouse she endears
shes a shadow to thouse who dont
remember the first lesson of the road
you cant succeed till you have utterly failed
so i play her a soft song cause i know it must hurt
to be on that bitter betrayal with no way home
she toils into the night hunched over the table
to create a boxer to fight her demons for her
she makes him out of cardboard
and pictures pasted from magazines
but she is quick to judge
and kicks him out before he can say a word
so he sits quietly at the greyhound station
and crumbles slowly into his pretend memories
the girl in fife fifteen
royal roach motel
up on colorado boulevard
eating her crackers in the setting sun
waiting for her prince to rescue her
but he caught a train
and now hes in the california mountains
trying to be a better hippy
she knows she has nothing left but
the crackers
and the setting sun
i think thats a terrible way to live
but im not the one looking for perfection
in the baubles from the gutters
of colfax avenue
so glad left all that misery behind
goodnight my spanish bride of the winter
fare thee well
hope you find your kingdom

brokenhearted
but still you took
this rusty nail you call a heart
and slammed into my head

you said you would be a friend to my darkness
you said you would break bread with my rage
so heart beating faster
sweat breaking on brow
still your silent
still your liars book remains unburnt
still your liars house has life
while the twin razors of your eyes stare at me out
of my history
and out of my pain sweet pain
now when you finally did speak
you poured gasoline on my heads fire
and then you ran laughin

it wont be enough to watch a pack
of wild dogs pick your bones clean
their fur matted with your stain
it wont be enough to burn your house to the ground
i'm gonna break its bones in my teeth
i'm gonna eat your world whole
can you feel my teeth on your mind
i'm eating you alive from the inside of your skull

brokenhearted this rusty nail you call
a heart is covered in my innocent blood
your filthy lies dance laughing in my eye
my ***** burn to see your house destroyed
to see your filthy book burn

this rusty nail you call a heart
i'm gonna drive it like a jackhammer into your love
like gods eyes on the hand on the wicked
i'm gonna eat your world whole
break its bones with my teeth
with my darkness
with my rage

im walking along
hardly breathin cause it might disturb
im steppin in the shadows of great men
with one eye on the popularity of what im sayin
but i dont think anybody sees me anyway
cept her and its real hard to tell what shes thinkin
dressed to the nines and she lickable head to toe
hard body honey half my age

came here to pick a fight with the powers that be
dont stand a chance but thats beside the point
cant you feel the storm brewin
been there since it became hip to be an activist
tempest in a tea ***
but what a blast its been
a struggle of the masses not to drink another latte
a demand for justice for the **** who ate the last bearclaw

he trims that fashion beard
combs out the rough phrase from his latest trending poem
and some cat in london stamps his seal of approval
sold out for a pat on the back
just remember kiddo that your a greenhorn
and i got one beady little eye on ya

meanwhile in chechnya they are swaping pens for rifles
feel little like hemingway
wanna throw it all away in a blaze of glory
for the ideal of the revolt with some
things still worth fightin for
hand me that pen
got a ruckus to make

the Spanish wood table
lay broken there by the door
its cotton cloth soaked with the wine she spilled
her cigarette still smouldering like her eyes
loose on the dusty floor
the music stopped has left its echo in its place
like an intangible trail into the
mystery's of night
into the mythology of her tales
riding a mare of nightshades
wailing fears and regrets
has she departed for the end of empires
where has she gone
how can we go on with this brave tale
with this misadventure
without her brave face

walk down into the crowded house
walk slow thru their confused and frightened faces
'senior what shall we do now that she is gone
who could have lead her astray'

and as the the tolling bell raises the alarm
dawn creeps into the room
like a thief come for the rest of our treasured hopes
like a fat banker come for our gold

they ride hard out in all directions
searching for some trace or track
there will be hell to pay
they have sworn blood oaths
and have readied their sharp knives
they will find thouse responsible for stealing her away
someone will pay for this
the newspapers all scream

then our cat wanders back in the door
and curls up at my feet
oh ok
she came home

it is to the crossroad i bid you
that forbidding place
where i have come to await the coming day
where i take food and wine
ease my weariness
rest my bones

there at the crossroad
the drumbeat of war once shook the earth
and the choirs of the chosen
made dizzying heights from  
stone that inspired the soul
and a dry wasteland of fertile field

there in the lightly falling snow
in the passing of good and true
in the final breaths of brave and kind
good men have passed to shadow
that others should rise to take
up their swords

i linger here
i know not why
the light snow has given way to driving storm
and while warm shelter lay near at hand
i only draw thin veil of cloth to my shoulder to fend off
the bitter wind
why linger at this cold unforgiving place
at this unbound and and unblessed
crows haunt
where the cold country priest
counts his handful of silver
and it is the gravedigger who
ponders the true song of the soul

for the true saints
are the ones who knew the
path leads not to riches
but to peace
that brotherhood and love
are far more precious than jewels
i have waited for such men
i have hoped to be a student of such nobility
i think i have not have had the privilege
and will not till i enter the gates of the kingdom

but i linger here at the crossroads
suffer the price to pay
suffer the crucible of soul
for to pass the gates
you must be of known mettle
for once he comes
i shall be there to paint the swirls of smoke
and the banners and flags
i shall be at the hill
waiting to meet him
with my pen

i echo that question
i have sat that waiting
have buried that treasure
and seen the handiwork
of artisans and seekers
know the presence
but i as yet do not understand
i think perhaps
that a master of tongues
or a scribe of the sky
could not decipher the simplest word
after even a thousand thousand years

i shall wait here
at my crossroads
content with my food and wine
content with this light snow
and the company of the gravediggers song
of the soul

one of the masters could have captured this for you
one of the great poets could have spoken to you
with such moving beauty
as to stir your soul
could have painted her sweet dignity
could have brought her soft smile home to you
and laid it gentle restless on your romantic heart
swept aside all but the truth to the sunlight
dancing on the fingertip of a blade of grass
watch it dance like sparkling stars come
magnificently to play in the midday meadow
watch the wind romance the trees
and dance laughing in her hair
as you are soul searching in her cool water mind

one of the great wordsmiths would have left you
sitting here with her hand in yours
feeling that kind warmth that leaves you feeling so alive
feeling the beauty of the forever moment in her sweet eyes
yes one of the great poets would leave you dancing
on cobblestone street at midnights majestic hour
with the laughing sinners and saints
back before such definitions divided
we were all just happy clowns
dancing and smiling for the sake of dancing and smiling
and so don't fear this
i am not one of the greats but i can spin a word or two
and i just want to see you happy once again
i will take you there
in my soft fashion
because i never seen you so happy
and that means more to me than mere words can say

the fast car evaporates into the inky darkness
like a hazy thought
in the summer night
like a fervent wish to endure
it rides some backroad near the county line
with some stratocaster echoing sweetly
and a crooner of these latter days
sing-talking bout all some love he had stumbled upon
in the backwoods of childhood
and the flame that endures in his soul for her sweet hand
this song fills the air of the empty road
as the fast car
plymouth grey with primer
her wheels spinning on the dust road
the river run by the metro north tracks
the stratocaster hits the end of its song
but some part of you just wants that song
to go on forever
you just want that midnight run to last forever
cause shes there with you
and she has smiles for you alone
your just like that stratocaster looking for
the opening notes of that song
that'll last forever
that'll be on her lips
be her song

she came in out of the dark rain
her guns hanging loose at the ready
her worn leather death hand just driftin above
the handle of her colt
eyes searching for the hard glint of steel
in the faces of the saloons crowded floor
but none had noticed her come in from the storm

she walked to the bar and called out
for a whiskey
leaned and let all but gun hand rest
as one of the prettiest bargirls came up
and smiled for a drink
without conversation the girl lead her
to a backroom
and this gypsy's night was filled with hot passions
and the gun hand was forgotten
in the sweet arms of virgina citys sweetest rose

but morning came with the rolling
of the steamtrains whistle
and the sheriff calling out the gun hand
she had laid some dog of a man low
for putting his hands on his woman
now she got to hang
cant be shootin our law abiding folk
we don't take kindly

this gunhand
this leather clad hard riding woman
with the softest sweetest heart
the kindest of souls
wasn't gonna let em hang her
for shooting down a ***** dog of a man
so she kissed sweet rose long an deep
and bid that sweet girl fare thee well
took up her colt

out into the dusty raw heat of
noonday sun she stepped with
her gun hand driftin over the **** of her colt
eyes blazin for the fool of a sheriff
who had come to lay her low in the name of justice
in the name of their lie of a town

they faced eachother and drew pistols
both got off a shot
one fell to the dusty earth
never to rise again
the other laid down pistol
and walked away

the lights shut off
one by one
till the world is only moonlight and shadows
and the crowds of humanity withdraw
taking with them tucked in pocket
the echoes of yesterdays
and the quiet promises of today

into this field littered by the passing night
the gypsy's of the street
comb through for the treasured trinkets
and cast coin
passing me without a waiting word
as i sit in the grass by the skeleton of the stage
watching a distant torch flicker in the trees
as the priestess of death makes her bed
among the graves

down by the river
down where she lay me down to ease the fever
where she sat all night
while the grand empire played out its death throes
so near at hand the light of the pillage was bright
and cannon shot rolled like
thunder till  the ugly face of first light
introduced itself like a cruel feildboss
to these pickers of the fruits of wars labours

she had stayed with me till danger had passed
till fevers delirium had parted
from me wearing his skeletal remains and scythe
leaving me shivering in her comforting arms
but as my mind cleared
as the chill fog of war slipped away
i realized i had been
alone all night with naught but the dark
and the burnt skeleton
of my yesterdays
in a cold northern wood

her silent monologue inside the cage of her mind
leaves fleeting expressions catapulting across her vacant face
like a strange circus act
the pasty face clowns in silent repetition
weakly grin as they grind through the dance
the lovely high wire girls seeking the perfect tuck and roll
her expressions move through this deranged carnival
of the mad again and again
never releasing its warped players to
the solace of privacy's ease
over and over they dance and roll

her lips stumble through misbegotten phrases
ten word haiku's written by the voices in her mind
written in lipstick on the mirrors of gas station restrooms
and truck stop shower stalls
haiku's of loves desperado warring against loneliness
the heart dose not actually make a sound when it breaks

her hearts deeper waters
like tidal pools in moonlight
the surface reflects the beautiful sky above
but in its cool depths other things live
some have no name

her silent monologue slows and fades away
the exhausted clowns of her madness laughter crawling
to lay their pasty white faces in reflection of sleep
the high wire girls to dressing rooms where they moan
for long departed heroic villains
who were last seen folding up diabolical schemes
and her silverware and making for the sun coast
where you can find them on beaches of paradise
sipping cool water under a neon moon

she slips into slumber
and dreams sweetly of all these players
in her silent minds story
she loves her madness
as she loves the rain

she is alabaster and brine
she is a faster lairs line
unwind her spooled mind
memory a keepsake in hand conquers a trinket lost
eat mandrake to the root but what the cost
unspoiled her thoughts broil in her head
steam from every seam
salty her groin but she declines the offered coin
she will reap the bliss of your salty kiss
as you bite her short hair she will sing a country tune so fair
she is alabaster and brine
a master of wasted time

the ballad is is my ears
and the girl is naked infront of me
the night dosnt care
grind honey just  stand there and grind it for me honey
a thousands shadows in my eyes
iv died a thousand deaths just today
and they all were just in the passing rain
im a troubled man
allways made the wrong turn
always got myself in too deep and had a blade to the ready

but thats all history babe
i can breath this f@#%in soup they call air down here!!!!
oh man the sun is out  and its in your eye lover
and there is nothing but joy in my heart
theres nothing on my face but
the smile you left there inbetween the sheets this moring
so dont f@%k yourself in your thoughts baby
we are gonna be allright
we are gonna take on and conquer this old world
we are gonna be forever babe
we are gonna be just fine

a warm breeze walks a handbill
up the empty street
from the show which had been
on the outskirts of town
all lights and fury far into the cool night
just a dusty track now fading out
just taffy wrappers and dime fortune teller cards
leading away
into the mornings highways memories
just photographs of awkward smiles
and plastic dolls won as a prize

she came through town that way
some years ago
and she had caught your imagination
and your heart
in a velvet dress she bid people come
to the edge of town to see the wonders
to see the might of the weak man
see the small heart of the big man
come see the wonders of the wide mysterious world
seven wonders for seven cents
she was a pretty thing
that you would think to see
in the finest company
with the prettiest jewels

but you would see her at the end of the show
her hair let down and flowing like a thick dream
prettiest you've ever seen
with the weak man in her arms
the kind if lovin grace to her eyes
just then you couldn't find the heart to disturb them
with your questions and camera
so you let her go
just to be one of thouse memories
that the highway holds dear
places far away
people strange and true
of the worlds prettiest girl
and the worlds weakest lucky man

the happier rabbit drenched in sweat
the language of his contorted face pulls at me
something approaching repentance in his fuzzy eyes
but trickster he plagiarizes puppy dog eyes to ****** his way free

the happier rabbit is a ***** of the profane tongue
and like a smooth jesus walking on the waters of verbal jive
he just walks your wallet like he's walking the dog
he's got nothing but fur but might as
well be wearing a brooks brothers three piece
and living bankers hours

the happier rabbit
making fast tracks for the dark woods
with the equivalent of a rolls royce and a roll 'o' dimes
living is easy in the forever summertime state
long as you got the endless supply of sheep
looking for greener pastures comin south for the winter
the happier rabbit lounges by the pool catchin a tan
sipping a long island ice tea
there may be something seriously wrong with us
but we are happy just the same

walkin slow in the heat an haze
our words got beyond our intents
she said i was a harlot of pen and page
living for that breathless moment
when reader extinguishes the last syllable of your passions flame
living for that deep in night romance only words on paper can explain
when the cool hand of your thought breaths life into cold furnace of her *****
for that brief moment when you and distant reader connect hearts
she left me standing under
florida highway underpass in a steady slow rain
reading the rumors of poems written in spraypaint
written in shades of dire loves
written with a destiny of fading
like ink on a rain soaked page

shuffled quietly into the busy day
transit thru layers of faces
and the thousand random sounds
meant to distract
but i keep pen to page till image surfaces
and words flow however uneven

almost seems like my poems are crossing roads
only every other phrase survives to the page
the rest lay unadorned baking in some
unrelenting internal sun
like roadkill my thoughts
strange and laughing
like prussian soldiers aligned wait for
the drunken magician to send
them charging into battle marching
lockstep backwards
they are sure to be slain
but they know they will be resurrected
later in my life as some odd little ditty
about some random babylon nubile kitten
**** and sweating at the door
looking for a fresh spike

perpetual motion in this silent sky
the clouds form up white grey along the east
and in slow parade move thru my vision
'brisk eastern wind says rain' whispers a companion
'best be done with your writing friend'

the boat rocks slowly in the waves
and there on this un-named atoll lay the wreck of
some long beached sloop
her mast snapped in some long forgotten storm
and the poem i labored to give birth to
surrenders to such an image
of loss and forlorn dreams

goodnight my love
goodnight and sleep well iv got the watch
and nothing shall disturb
no storm nor pirate shall approach unheeded
lay back and dream of my poems to you

perpetual motion in this silent sky
the clouds form up white grey along the east
and in slow parade move thru my vision
'brisk eastern wind says rain' whispers a companion
'best be done with your writing friend'
so i close my book and put aside my worn pen
for the night
take the tiller
and make haste for open sea

but theres so much noise in my head
telling me five different directions to run
real quick fore something catches up with
untangle the mind
to discover the narrow distance
tween whatcha thinking and how it feels
my heads all cloudy cause my hearts caught
in the backwash of somebody else's fearful fall from grace
catch her like a broken angel
only to watch her fly free and clear
while i slug it out in the mud of misunderstanding
just wanna get back to the drawing inside the lines
get back to where it all went according to plan
cause i'm foolish enough to have a plan to go wrong
she swings by my emotional wreckage
trying to lend a hand
guess thats part of the mad scheme
called love

her fingers trace a delicate pattern
on a photograph with her soft finger
while her lips caressed his name with the tender care
of desperate loneliness and remembrance of
of carefree passion
now missed
with heartfelt ache
but hand in hand with such sorrowful faces
always comes the bitter reproaches
for self and the enemy

sketches of who she thought he was emerge
slowly from her angry words
and flow uneven thru our conversation
as my views of her changing nature
etched into the wall
with deep and wide hand-tool

portrait of our failure
portraits self delusion
finally faced with a heart killing sorrow
she trys to make me do ****** with her
i leave her sitting there
and flee on foot

the white language of snowfall lay
perfectly still where sunshine once warmed
a shaft of light pierces the evening tide of falling snowflakes
a point of reference for the weary footfall of
the man heading home
warm sweet home
his steps retraced leave one with
the enduring feeling that this vast sea of snow
covering the ground in gentle undulation
is but a foretaste of days of cold febuary to come

the winds tugs at his hood
and cling to his heart
in this the depths of winter
as he plunders his next
footstep from the cold crisp snow
it stirs thoughts of desolation
but he can see clearly sings of life
the tracks of a small creature as
it too reached for it home and warmth
in some nest or burrow

he feels the turning tides of this nights snow
he understands the meaning of these changes
to where summer sun once stretched the days into
long comforting green beauty of vibrant life
where spring will come
to melt away the white carpet which
he lays his mind on this night
where he will dream once more of
the beautiful summer sun will grow upon him
like the embrace of a lover
like the truth of passing seasons
write their own passionate tales
with the wind and skies
with the beauty of dark and light mixed
in the heart of our dreams

she was down in the shadows
and there was nobody there to cry to
she just wandered the cool night
with a flare for the dramatic and a vision of the wild sea
i stood there on the sandy beach
my arms full of gifts of yesterdays funeral pyre
and a head full of dreams of her
she gave me five pieces of paper
each one was written in a strangers hand
each had despair written in invisible illustration
but i couldn't leave her that way
i had to help her
no matter the cost
money is clean if the heart is pure to the intent
sweet paradise can be if your in the right state of mind
she came down to the store
and with smiles in her hand
she shook me loose from my apologies
and with a grin she started to dance
with a grin she gave up the darkness
and in the night i found my voice
and so the flames of my words found the lovin dawn
turn to the darkness no more fair child
is what i said to her
no matter the cost
dance in the light
if your heart is pure to the intent

delicately she balances on the edge
of the crisp sheets of the motel room's bed
wearing her hoodie and jeans fashionably
not speaking except in the nervous fidget of her hands
but its her homespun beauty that is the tale to be told
truth of her breath catching when she thinks she hears him in the distance
truth of her writing his name in the dew of dawn on the windshield
with the promised hearts and rainbows forever dream

its a little past two am
in the motel next to the highway
the door is open
letting in the ever present scent of diesel
and late summer georgia night air
she sits in the pool of light on the motel room bed
looking out into the darkness next to the highway
there are no tears
no words
they have long since rushed out and washed away
now there is only the waiting
for the sound of his truck
his boots on the gravel

she sits in the pool of motel light
ignoring the fading glories of the night
ignoring the fading glories of her youth
he will come for her
and everything will be right

she moves sleepheaded in the bed next to me
and in the stillness of the mornings dim light
her hand finds its way across my chest and like an idle dancer spins
nonchalant circles of heart shaped wishes on my skin
her lips draw next to my ear and
with a soft wet sound give a tender
lesson in the beauties of her naughty delights
the first tentative kiss in the tempest of her seductions

she wraps herself up in my arms
a gift to own darker delights
and caresses my eyes with her own
the soft texture of her gaze thick with passions and desires
deep with her heart touching mine
and in that gaze i feel her soul moving as one with mine
as our kisses melt us

she pleads with her hands all along my face
and down along my body
she begs and teases the flickering desires
of our heat that rise like the fires of a thousand suns
and with delighted sounds from deep within her
as she explores and plunders
as we dance in the tangled sheets
she finds again the desires that go hand in hand
with her hearts loves
that go hand in hand with her hearts dreams

timeless times later
as we lay entwined in the afterglow of our love's hot tempest
and with such a tender and timid voice looking deep into my eyes
tells me she loves me and no other
i brush back the strand of hair that
has fallen to her sweat bound brow
and kissing her gently
tell her that i too love her and no other

this is no ordinary love affair
this is one soul romancing another with every carnal delight
with every souls true treasure of loving embrace
this is passion
she is my dreadlock princess
i am her poet in shining armor
this is how love was meant to be

she moves sleepy-headed in the bed next to me
and in the stillness of the mornings dim light
her hand finds its way across my chest and like an idle dancer spins
nonchalant circles of heart shaped wishes on my skin
her lips draw next to my ear and
with a soft wet sound give a tender
lesson in the beauties of her naughty delights
the first tentative kiss in the tempest of her seductions

she wraps herself up in my arms
a gift to own darker delights
and caresses my eyes with her own
the soft texture of her gaze thick with passions and desires
deep with her heart touching mine
and in that gaze i feel her soul moving as one with mine
as our kisses melt us

she pleads with her hands all along my face
and down along my body
she begs and teases the flickering desires
of our heat that rise like the fires of a thousand suns
and with delighted sounds from deep within her
as she explores and plunders
as we dance in the tangled sheets
she finds again the desires that go hand in hand
with her hearts loves
that go hand in hand with her hearts dreams

timeless times later
as we lay entwined in the afterglow of our love's hot tempest
and with such a tender and timid voice looking deep into my eyes
tells me she loves me and no other
i brush back the strand of hair that
has fallen to her sweat bound brow
and kissing her gently
tell her that i too love her and no other

this is no ordinary love affair
this is one soul romancing another with every carnal delight
with every souls true treasure of loving embrace
this is passion
she is my dreadlock princess
i am her poet in shining armor
this is how love was meant to be

beauty is a hearts hunger
beauty of feeling or beauty of sight
i live for her
she is my light