"Sail away over the horizon
and either the dragons get you,
or you drop off the edge of the world.
Or, maybe, just maybe,
mast bound,
eyes wide,
and Siren haunted...
You come home
from around the other side."

Pique my Interest.
Tickle my fancy. Lead me astray...
And, if you don't know how to do that,
here let me show you.

Be whatever you dream yourself to be,
but be honest about it...
It's a Devil's wager.
The price of dreams are the dreams themselves.

The world *****
It's full of evil and violence…
The world is the most beautiful thing
We will ever experience.

If there is a meeting later,
I want it to be
with you.

We all bear witness to our times...
At its darkest,
Jesus too
latched the door
to the gas chambers shut.

It's there.
Right underneath your feet.
Between the cells of your body
indeed between your atoms as well.
The Universe.

The great planes roll past,
airport windows.
Their tall fantails
like the dorsal fins of giant orcas.

Sometimes
when the night long,
and sleep short...
Old ghosts gather
close around me.
Of them all
the one
I always look for
among old lovers
and lost friends,
are your
welcoming eyes.

Heaven smells like a hospital
Clean and sterile like Sunday morning.
Hell reeks like a bar
after a sweaty Saturday night.

Oh Goddess, Mother Earth
Madonna of the squirming world.
Yours is of the soil.
The stench of life... ****, ****, ***
and dirt.
The churning nitty gritty.
In the garden,
behind the barnyard...
in the wreckage of a bed
bent over the kitchen table.
Goddess, Life.
I worship you
In all
your sweaty glory.

Yeah, you're special.
So am I.
So is everybody.
So what?

Somewhere is the future
we would have had,
had...

We hang so much
on the desire for love.
Its too heavy a load
for any emotion
to carry.

My favorite memory,
us lying there
still coupled...
At peace.

If Quantum mechanics is right
All that has been,
all that is
and all that will
or might be...
All exist at the same time.
If so somewhere
in time/space
the stars are campfires of the ancestors.
Ancient rituals are performed at Stonehenge.
Three wise men brush off the dust of ages
to follow a star.
Somewhere,
the deadly ovens still burn.
All that is happening now
in real time,
and every potential future,
from a cinder of an earth
to paradise
is all happening
at once.

The moon soars across the sky,
chasing clouds
behind the stars.

Free to the first caller,
one set of dreams,
another of hopes.
No longer needed...

There are three souls
in every relationship.
The two...
And the one created
by their dancing.

The morning after love,
stains on the sheets.

The morning after love,
tears on the pillow.

Your fingerprints
are all over my heart.
No matter
how hard I try,
They will not come off.

We never
walked together
beneath the falling leaves.
We never
made love
in the evening dew.
Now... We
never will.

Time heals
all wounds
they say...
but
time takes time.
Meanwhile
the broken hearted,
pick
at their
sores.

The ghosts of dearly loved,
long dead pets
scurry about my feet.

Between eternity
and eternity,
eternity.

Always with the barkers voice.
Don't take it personally kid,
that's just the way of the world.

Its a suckers game.
You'll never know all the rules
and Mephistopheles holds all the cards.

You're going to lose everything you love
and we're all going to die.
Step right up. Roll the dice.

Next...

We were dead matter
for so very long
its a pleasure just
to wiggle ones toes in the sand.

Pay to be born.
Pay to live.
Pay to die.
***** that.
No matter what
the ******* say or do,
no one owns your body,
nobody owns your soul.
They did not say Be
and it was.
We are free.

For sale...
one bouquet of roses,
never given.

We are spirits of this world,
its fate and ours, inexorably bound.
Every day that passes,
we hurl faster toward the light.

Oh Dear, dear Shaggy,
your time with us was brief.
But you will live on with us,
etched upon our hearts,
so long as we both
shall live.

I have but a passing acquaintance
with normalcy.
Its a nod when we see each other on the streets
kind of thing.

That moment,
when the light in her eyes
becomes a fire.

You know the spot.
Where the flesh
curves downward, up
and in...
Yeah, right there.

As we age,
and with distance...
Memories become dreams
and later myths.

The infinitesimally small
becomes the infinitely big.
The Universe seamless,
like a Mobius strip.

Somewhere deep
in the chambers of my heart
is a space with your name on it,
and no one may enter
except you and I.

My lust for you is chronic,
a deep ache I cannot resist.
No ******* can express
What its like between your thighs.
The look, the feel, the smell, the taste...
Words fail me.
Here there be dragons.

Caught in a puddle of sunlight,
unable to move...
I sip my tea
and watch the moon.

Go deep.
Dig deeper.
Deeper still.

She was a delightful mix
of sweetness and insanity.
I'm not saying she was crazy,
rather
her acquaintance with reality
was a passing one.
She lived in her own little world
and if she liked you
she'd invite you in.
Her heart was pure,
her body less so.
She embraces the world...
and would you too
should she take
the fancy.

Every year this time
at the ending cycle of the sun...
hope walks again
along pathways of the heart.

An ancient dream
roots unknown...
a newborn
shall save the world.

The sun arcs south,
the bottom of the year...
a mother heavy with child
seeks her shed, a manger on high.

Three wise ones, three kings
brush the dust of long lost history off
its that time of year again...
time to rise and follow the star.

Shepherds alone on the hillside
sheep bleat, angels sing
forever witnesses to a miracle or a dream
a newborn saves the world.

Her thoughts were on eternity
as she took me softly, warmly
between her thighs.
No goddess this
but a woman in her hour.

You really don't think
you're just your ego,
do you?
Reality isn't very solid.
just a mist of atoms,
themselves mostly empty space.
Reality is what we think it is.
At one time,
the stars were the campfires
of the ancestors.

Out of lust...
Out of desire,
Carefully, lovingly  
she chose the finest,
most supple leathers.
Length and width she measured them...
to size each finished braid.
Four she made, each stitched
with tearing eyes.
Weaving them together
she bit her lip imagining...
their sting on her buttocks.

She was a universe all her own...
self contained, alone.
She needed no man (or woman)
to make her whole...
Then why does he make her cry?

I have never been tempted
down the primrose path of reality.
In the back of an old wardrobe
is a lamp post in the woods...
along an ancient path
vaguely remembered.

Chronic pain's a bear,
the agony no one ever sees...
Looked at with doubtful eyes
no one knows the torture.

Chronic pain's a bear,
worse is the depression and the knowledge...
In the medicine cabinet are pills
that can end the pain or end it all.

Sometimes
like a black cat in a dark alley,
my heart wishes it had
no memory of you.

Nothing, no lover...
Will ever hold you more intimately
than water or air.