This tea, I steep
red apple, your kiss
alizarin crimson, wet
impossibly sweet
you soothe, I drink
your lingering lips
poured with honey milk
by the fire, consumed
of love infused
with herbs and leaves
this tea, I drink.

I’m old enough now to admit,
I’ve slept with far too many women
which is practically less than a fraction
of the number of women I desired.
In a way I’m saying
not nearly enough, is plenty.

There's an ocean
Sloshing around
Inside my head

With each step
I feel the waves
Lap my skull

My mind is
Warped like
A heavy bucket

Brunette waves
Used as
A handle

His hands
Grab handfuls
Yanking my hair

Steers me clear
Of sweet
Relief

Takes me
And my ocean
Anywhere

Has me
Tag along
Just in case

If salty rivers
Ever succeed
In their escape

He let's them flow
Indifferent of
My waterways

She was
not old enough
to have graduated
high school,
nor aware enough to
notice
how many eyes were on her,
sympathetic or
disdainful or
hungry,
as she struggled to push a cart full of
pull-ups
and cleaning supplies
in a cart with a broken wheel

through the warm and somniferous glow
of ill-maintained streetlights,

those obelisks of granite.

Don't call it
pity,

but
something
stirred my gut,
and burned my eyes,

as she trudged past me,
pushing a cartload of motherhood,
trailing a warm autumn breeze,
an aromatic telegram;

lilac and lavender,
a diffident bouquet,
accented by spritely vanilla,

withering before bleach-fumes
and mordant disinfectant.

Notice a regimented city full of ants
Where shoulders rub without a glance
And never do bowed heads look up
To notice men with trembling cups
To see the sky, and admit its worth
Embrace our helplessness from birth
Invisible chains brace personal spaces
To widen the gaps from race to races

Moving back and forth, Up and down
We scour the maze for gains to be found
Blinders on, we tunnel our way
Never stop to talk, it creates delay
The troubles of others are theirs alone
Emotions cause chaos, changes faces to stone
Be the best for yourself, climb to the top
And stomp on the heads of the weak who have stopped

But who will be there when your limbs give out?
When age leaves you breathless, unable to shout
When illness takes over and you can't quite recall
What it was that you climbed for, was it important at all?
When the money and materials you collected so dear
Gather dust on a shelf without one which to share
All your life you have strived to reach top the hill
And you finally get there, just to feel unfulfilled

Take a look around now and notice this place
Take the time to stop and study each face
Always keep your dreams and aspirations afloat
But let others in and let love be your boat
Empathize with others, try and feel what they felt
You never quite know the cards they've been dealt
The key to success is to take notice of grace
We are not working ants, we are the human race

mud at a wall
and then ignore it
balance a leaf on water
watch it grow ****

take a dump called a stick on a stick
that's my poem to the LA sewer system
noone can see it

Haiku
Notes of music
Fell into the ocean
Undulating


Haiku
Rain upon the sea
Softly lamented the loss
The conductor died.


Haiku
After great sorrow
Gigantic waves crash the shore
Disharmony