To sit on the couch
And lie on the mud
Is the difference
That special day
Brings closer
Each time
Presents
Flow in
And
Relationship
Will get thinner
And I know
One day
That will tear away
And I will be left alone
To feel the weeds
On my chest
And this is
What this day
Reminds me...........

They bring with them the baggage of men
the lost children attempting pathetically
to recreate the aura of time long gone.

If you discount the roughness of skin
travel past the thick hedge of beard
penetrate the silt on the eroded eyes
you can delayer the hardened coats
and get to see  faces barely recognizable.

Some were once too close to be missed
their names and all
but most you could hardly recall
and it agonizes your thought
were they in the same class or not.

You smile till your jaws ache
fetching stories from the blue
dazzlingly colored and half true
for they are all in the mood
to joyfully succumb to falsehood.

You could tell from the body language
who's  in the backburner
and who on the front page.

Forty years break and make men
but they feign happiness
to be united again.

The fish knows the depth of the sea
It doesn't Walk outside

we aren't together but we're not separated

You're still hanging on in the binding of my story

When I am the guest of my brother
sleep watching shooting stars
in a black dog's eyes
asleep in a star drift, dreaming
of tides and spiral galaxies,
I am an ice sword dipped in wine,
death ringing in your ears
like the darkest shadow of night,
a lost sailor drifting through
the centuries in a black ship,
a man standing vigil over a grave
cleaning mud off of his boots
with a knife.

Metaphor is the boat that floats on water but carries one into the sky...

In the rain
When I step out
I keep my umbrella open
And the parasol in my bag.....

Freaked out like I usually do.
Told her I'd be better
apologized for being a **** up

she told me to stop throwing a pity party
she said she's done with that *******

Snake stings
But man kills