She was a lioness;
All sleek lines
And mesmerising grace
Capped with a deadly intent.
He was an antelope
Caught in the headlights
And oh so *****.
One thing's for sure.

She's gonna eat him for breakfast

I climbed a tree today
and sat atop a branch
I viewed the world in a brand new way
that I'm sure cannot be matched.

The tree spoke of a history
I could barely imagine.
Steeped in rich mystery,
My gorgeous old oak mansion.

Feathers sprouted from my skin,
Changes in every cell.
I was born a bird. I tried to fly
But it did not end well

Zen monks sit quietly on
stern pillows of effervescent soul.
I do not,
My patchwork pillow is filled with
styrofoam-- artificial.

Hasidic Rabbis rub their tired pious books
adding more wear marks from years worrying
which appear like a foreign tongue on the cover.
My book is full of yellowed, empty pages
sitting, dust-ridden on a abandoned shelf.

The head of the Shiite rests against solid stone
The penitent countenance like a mirror of Mecca.
My forehead bears only the reddened mark of my forearm
from the vibrant narcolepsy of life.  

The Atheist sits in the coffee house
lecturing the disinterested Baristas
about the tomfoolery of religion.  
I sit alone,
nodding sagely,
sipping wine that tastes
flat against my tongue.

What does a depth of spiritual belief offer?
There is an unwritten, unquantifiable,
essence that belief gives the human.
A depth of meaning, like
a shot of penicillin to a case of chlamydia.

He knows no truth he who never lied
For how can he know what's lie or truth?
He who never died has never lived
For he who has lived has died
He knows not real joy if he never cried
For after the tears comes the reality of joy
Expect them who broke rules to abide
For unlike the meek,have nothing to hide
Those who have won will win again
For they know the reality of glory
While failures will fail again and again
'Cause they are already used to the story
Yes, fools they say never learn
Why?Wise men of today never teach
You don't play with fire you'll not burn
But we get to know by the boundaries we breach
Who know spectate,who don't are on pitch
Sometimes, hard to tell Bull from the *****
People learn the rules to know the cracks
And those are the point they hit to break them
Not guilty these days doesn't mean innocent
The boundaries of law can be stretched and bent
If you have to embezzle, take billions
Otherwise steal chicken and you'll be fed to lions

Charlie was my friend, he was a chef
Then packed everything in to play saxaphone
When he played the universe stopped to listen
But ****** was claiming him, this he overthrew
In favour of wine

One day on a beaten track I found him sleeping
A woman had told me to beware the *****
She stood at the top to watch me walk past
So that I'd be safe.
I saw my friend and sat down, we smoked a smoke
Talked of old times
Fields on either side and the woman
Stood in amazement until I waved to say it was all alright

One night I was sleeping and woke in the dark
Charlie was saying "Wake up wake up"
The wind was howling outside
He took hold of my shoulders and shook me awake
I said
"******* Charlie, I'm trying to sleep"
Turned over and closed my eyes.

I found out a few days later
He'd died that night
In another place far from me
Of a final old times shot

She works all day in a dead end job
And the money is not the best
The boss is a bit of a pervy ****,
Keeps staring at her chest.
Laughing too loudly, at unfunny things,
And tipping her the wink,
Hiding the lines of his wedding ring
Or so he likes to think.
Too-tight jeans and garish shirts
And teeth unnaturally white.
She'd like to kick him where it hurts
Even dreams of it at night.
He offers to take her to a bar,
Wherever she'd like to go
And he'd drive her home in his flashy car,
So nobody needs to know.
She nods her head and smiles her thanks
And makes a discreet phone call.
Her boss is as thick as two short planks and is about to lose his *****.
They enter the bar, he sees his wife
And knows he's out of luck.
He's either going to lose his life,
Or his wife's going to make him a ******