O the joy, the joy
of this life snuffed daily
by the minions
of the darker age.

Creeping,
stalking
outside in the shadows
gripping,
choking,
breaking our necks.

We sleep eternally,
our blood-stained eyes
stare in desperation,
too late for
our own resurrection
as wasted time flies…….

I saw lot's of gold men
strutting out in the desert,
spinning themselves
like drunken madmen
warped on internal-sin.
They fell at your feet
like arcade-magic,
the way you want it.

But you gave it away
to the whole team.
So sultry & wanton,
cravings, cravings, cravings,
screaming such sexiness,
scheming your selfish desires,
another everybody's girl,
saving nothing &
not much left to give.

There's not much to say about
strong sensual mutual feelings.
Having the void filled tightly
with warm thoughts wrapped
around my heart,
our soul,
means so much.

She wears my camo hat &
my side knife on her leather belt.
A ribbon is worn in her hair & she likes denim jeans.
She loves patchouili & makes her own herbal soap.
We walk on the crystal sand & write our names in the surf.
She makes recipes from scratch & uses spices.
She's from the city & we sleep in the country.
We light candles in circles & burn strong incense.
We share intimate sensual-things & sleep 'till past midday.
We kiss each other sweetly & whisper nothings.
We do not know the day nor the month
& it does not really matter.

Friction and kisses
Hot intimate positions
Primordial flow

Today, words
are flowing
out of me
like
honeydew-wine-water.

O Mr. Haiku,
from the bottom of my heart
I thank you kindly!

Who knew
you'd
be the one
to expose me!?

He’s journeyed many a treacherous route, scuttled ancient-ships,
ridden the skyscraper-troughs of crystal-seas, hunted enemies,
alone.

He’s guided by the lamps of the Heavens, the countless stars,
the sun and the moon, calculated the astrolabe,
alone.

He’s braved hurricane winds, the triangles of Bermuda, windless days,
leviathans & squids, scavenging whites and other such hungry things,
alone.

He’s got the strength of a Goliath, keeps his tenderness guarded under lock and skeleton-key,
his wounds bleed forever in the brokenness of a self-induced solitary confinement,
alone.

He’s the truest mariner, fights black-tempests within, protects himself from overexposure,
from another broken heart,
alone.

It's that first kiss,
that first touch
of bare skin,
the first taste
of raw honey
that seals our fate.

Once smitten,
bitten by the lust-bug,
one is never the same again.

We can cry about broken hearts,
the agony of rejection,
all the pain we've had to endure,
but we can never deny
the reality of the physicality
derived from such
pure primal pleasure,
never.