Light years from help, we were lost in another world called the ****.
Our split-second decisions meant the difference between living or dying,
and out here, out here on the fringes, we were the law, the lions.

We had the power to end the synapses called life, it was our occupation
& it was a simple-process, the hardest part was making up your mind.
Once done, it was just a click to autopilot to slit a neck & watch the blood flow.

Goat herders & shoe shine boys, farmers & elders, all were potential enemies,
but the consequences of media could disrupt your decisions & many times it did,
it cost warriors their own lives to make clueless-others think war is bed of roses.

O Darling, you saucy pretty-poet,
****** me with your rhythmic-wit.
Show me your loveable moves,
gobble me up with your hot-stanza,
eat me with your sultry words.
Go ahead & say it,
write it out indiscreetly,
I can take it and so much more.

Well yeah, a haiku is certainly nice,
it’s swell & would suffice,
but I’d rather have a ballad,
perhaps an epic one,
the longer, the better
would be fun!

Wink-wink!

Breathe in the morning glow,
breathe out your inner flow,
feel each sacred-breath,
trickling throughout
your inner core.

O how I imagine you,
intertwining your soul
with mine.
Your fine-eyes
lost, floating
in another dimension
accentuated
by the sweet music
of our love sounds.

Pants & sighs,
liquids flowing
between our thighs,
feeding the hottest
fires of our hearts,
hidden desires no more,
when we think like this,
us,
kissing our dreams.

I read somewhere,
there is nothing new under the sun,
and in contemplating that idiom,
I realized how so true!

Who of us knew of such deep-wisdom?
Us forever searching, endlessly re-creating the wheel
on loves now lost, those long walks in forests green we did take,
waiting for a breath of sunlight to break the canopy.
O bygone days, when we scurried unknowingly
as if we, we the intruders, were the first on Earth to cry?

So let us depart my dear friends,
my dear lovers.
Let us, the keepers of rhythmic-words,
continue on, to scurry to and fro,
let us love, let us kiss,
let us feel another scourge of a broken heart.
For in doing so, we will discover again,
we will feel the humanness
of nature’s flow,
so true!

I'm driven, driven by invisible forces,
voices screaming for a deliverance,
they evolve deep inside my head,
creeping around inside me like mist,
and yet I insist I am sane,
as sane as any other man or women
who knows of such things,
writing abundantly,
giving birth to madness
in words.

Beauty left in a fade,
washed out from
vividness to pastel,
then blank,
devoid,
whitewashed into
nothingness.

The blank canvas
stares back,
his eyes search the heavens
for answers to
universal mysteries.

And somewhere,
rainbows arc,
a sun sets,
the moon rises
and a wild horse runs free.
The lone artist desperately
paints bleakness,
not even a single tree.

Moon beams capture me lying in the dark shadows,
cloaked in black, my face feels the sting of the changing tides,
I fall to new lows, my lips are twisted from your disdain.

Star dust fell from your sweet fingers, you lit my world with beauty
& I succumbed to your petals, your soft subtle moves slayed me.
I remain enraptured. Nothing on earth can replace a person like you.

And now forlorn, dread fills my mortal body & I miss you with all my heart,
still wondering, did you find peace in your soul?

Nobody knows, mine is lost forever on the endless dunes of pain.

There's a place I go,
where stones cannot break
my brittle bones,
where hate cannot create
a broken heart,
where love stains
my being.

I am safe here.
A chrysalis,
transforming
my raw emotion
into endless-verses,
written-words
you can read,
emoting me
in my safety.

O the mustangs stung like mosquitoes,
fast as lightning & thunderbolts,
liberators & fortresses,
hurricanes & tornadoes,
hell cats & bears,
invaders & dragons,
good grief Lord,
those mighty Gordons!

O wily foxes & quick lancers,
avengers & vindicators,
swordfish, barracuda,
some tuna, albacore.
Gladiators in the gauntlet,
zig-zagging & spitting fire,
spewing molten hot-lead,
bright-tracers in the night,
forever fighting
with their all their might,
bombing their daylights out
and into submission,
la morte, stone dead.

O they sank the Rising Sun,
'cause they had that *****,
battling against all wrong
& protecting only
what was right!

Gray skies paint the landscape
under Heaven's bounty,
a serenity prevails as
cool breezes kiss me,
songbirds sing
such lovely-chorus,
and I feel.

I feel like
I'm the only being on Earth
listening to their joyful-tune
on this early winter morn.

And now I sit
alone
with my
winged-companions,
mourning your sweet memory,
you gone forever,
lost in times past,
never truly
where they ever meant to last.