The world ended yesterday,
for all those who passed.
It begins for all those born.
The end is just round the corner...
creation near.

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.

After love
the only wet spot on the bed
is from my tears.

After love
there is an empty place
in my hand.

After love
there's a hole in the heart
my soul bleeds through.

After love
the ache,
the ache.

Pale light shimmering
through summer's trees
onto damp grass.
Dawn after the rain.

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

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.

Never cared too much for fame...
my ego isn't that big.

The idea of wealth is okay...
but simple comfort will do.

I've had lots of partners but...
*** is nothing without love.

Power itself is meaningless...
peace matters more.

Things are nice but...
I have more than I need.

Success is in the living...
not in playing the game.

All I have ever wanted is you...
and I am already yours.

Take a ****
talking to the dog.
Wandering around in circles
muttering to myself.
Looking for this book
that recipe.

An old 60s song comes on
I bop about the room to the music.
Petting the dog I look at the book
and wonder why I've got it at all.
Sometimes all the voices in my head
can do is sigh.

I don't want to ever not
wake up next to you...
to miss your warmth
touching mine.

Cloudy...
the leaves turn golden.
Dark again.

So, it came to pass in those days
the last of the wild things crept
into their dens, caves, nests and burrows,
and passed from the knowledge of man.
The fish stopped swimming
and the birds...stopped flying,
the flowers stopped blooming
and man noticed not.
In those days,
the sea died
and the land became sterile
except for the places kept alive by force.
And all that remained living,
was suffered to exist
in order to feed,
clothe
or amuse mankind.
Their abodes spread like a blight
across the surface of the earth
and the light from their habitations
blotted out the stars
but no one looked skywards.
And in those days,
God bowed his head and disowned his creation
but man ignored his orphanage.
There was nothing left divine,
just profits and loss
and everything had a price
but nothing value.

Then one night a freak accident happened
the lights went out
and the stars appeared.
Great men ran in the streets
weeping in fear at the unknown sky.
They were certain that the end had come.
Slack jawed they stood there staring,
until they realized
that their all powerful machines had fallen silent
and the world was quiet.
No breeze caressed their cheek.
No wind rustled through the trees
for there were no trees,
and no birds sang,
not even a funeral dirge.
There were no ripples on the pond
or waves upon the sea,
just the silence of the dead.
And in that time, man understood
what he had done
and understood he was alone.
He hung his head to cry
and none were there to sympathize.
His heart ached at the knowledge of his fate.
So it came to pass in those days
that the ***** of man failed and lust died.
And mankind, shamed before his own eyes
bowed his head and walked into the void
unmourned.

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.

We are spirits
bound to this world,
its fate our own.
An encampment of lost souls;
banned from heaven,
with no chance to roam the spheres.
We etch out meager lives
a mere half shadow of angels,
an echo of demons lust.

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.

Oh God,
what have we done to this world
and our souls?
Show us your hand;
let your love,
your mercy
rain down upon us.
Please O Lord:
I beg you,
peace.

Is the Universe conscious?
Yes.
Why? How?
We are conscious aren't we?

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

I and Thou
Eye to eye
I and eye
I to I.

On the altar of our bed;
a passion so intimate,
we barely speak.

How can heaven
be home for us now
when our hearth’s ashes are cold?
Stoke the fire and fix a meal,
the stranger at our door
holds our hearts in his hand.

Before the cold wind blows...
I want to walk with you
beneath an autumn moon,
and sit together
among the falling leaves.
I want to stand with you
in the setting sunlight,
and love you...
in the cool damp grass.

When my eyes shut
for the last time...
when darkness or the light
I will soon know or see.
I hope your face
will be there
for me.

You're not allowed to cross my mind,
I keep that door locked.
My heart is bolted down
like a ship in the storm.
No sailors with ears full of wax,
to the mast I am not bound.
I cannot allow it...
you're not allowed to cross my mind.

You have branded my soul with kisses.
I could no more forget you
than I could to breathe.

Visible only to me,
I trace the tattoo of your lips
upon my skin.

Venus was shining
so bright and beautiful
this morning,
she reminded me of you.

With stars in your hair,
and moonlight on your face;
lady of the solstice,
cast your spell.

Neither a late autumn moon
Nor stars blazing winter bright...
Not even flowers in the snow
have anything on you.

Entranced
like a moth and its flame
I circle round…
you, Venus and I the moon.

You're not right.
But you love me.
Yes, but you're not right.
But you love me...

My lust for you is carnivorous...
you bring out the animal in me.
I want to drink your moisture;
wallow in your body,
my face bathed between your thighs.
Licking my chops at the thought of you...
I pounce.

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

Of all the addictions...
Chocolate is how
lust should be.

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.

I like my coffee hot,
I like my coffee cold.
I like my coffee fresh.
I like my coffee a day old.
I like my coffee strong.
Black and bitter,
is how I do it.
I love gourmet coffees.
Hell, I'll even drink instant.
Just don't give me
no ****** decaf.
if you want to be
my friend.

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

I remember days;
colored by certain
delightful chemicals,
Curled up
in a light filled bay window
curtained with lace,
hanging plants and crystals.
Lying on cushions piled high...
with steaming peppermint tea,
watching through wisps of incense
large, slow snowflakes fall.
Examining an old book,
its texture, gravity, flexibility
and smell
seemed as much a living thing
to me
as the black cat slithering up
onto my lap,
or her human
nibbling gently on my neck.

I love and haunt the wastelands,
the rundown, out of the way lands;
down by the docks and abandoned piers,
out on a lonesome, windswept jetty;
warehouse row or the rail yards
and ruins of every type.
I know these places for what they are,
forgotten by some
but never empty.
Always full of dreams and memories past,
of what was wrought by man.
There you will find me
walking and thinking,
sometimes drinking
communing with the wind
that blows through my soul,
like a stiff November breeze.
So it is with my heart;
I love the forsaken,
the lost and alone
trembling unfulfilled,
aching for that gentle touch.
They make the best lover’s,
struggling to release their inner flame.
Can you see them?
I can hear them
singing their own songs
with rough and ready voices,
fading in the distance
until only the melody remains.

Does anyone know
where darkness goes
when light appears?
Or where love goes
when it ends?
What happens to hate
when forgiveness begins?
These are minor mysteries though
barely worth considering.

What I seek
are the deep mysteries...
the ones no science has answered,
no theology discussed.
Like where do all those
single socks go
when they disappear
in the wash,
never to be seen again?

Cut Irises
fresh from the spring
dripping purple
on the kitchen table
as they die.

You drove me to it.
Its all your fault,
and no other.
I had no words to express
my love,
my passion,
my anger,
my emotions
about you.
You drove me to it.
Its all your fault,
and no other.
You drove me
to poetry.

One door closes,
another opens...
morning sunlight
spooks the shadows.

The gravity of your *******
hypnotize me.
I am enraptured.

Life is ethereal.
Love with abandon
or not at all.
Give without hesitation,
hold nothing back.
Accept the joy and the pain,
as the price of admission.
And through the tears...
Thank you.

Your eyes lowered
look bashfully
at me...
My eyes amazed
at your beauty,
trying to find
words to say.

Your eyes full of longing
whisper take me
I'm yours...
My eyes hungry
explore your body
wondering
just where to begin.

Your eyes happy
sleepy
sigh hold me...
my eyes sated;
drooping,
close as I pull
you to me.

I could never say I loved you,
we were too distant for that...
still, I did.
You weren't an easy man
to be close to...and I yearned
for that connection.

I saw you cry once,
out of illness and fear...
I went to hug you,
but you stiffened...
I could not comfort you,
that hurt yet I understood.

You were a hard man...
any illusions about that died long ago.
You were a bigot
and you cheated on my mother.
You were rarely there for me
except when you were.

Father...
I longed for something more...
a bonding man to man.
That never happened;
still I love you, I cannot help it,
you made me who I am.

We are little more
than the fevered dreams of atoms,
you and I.

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

Written on the flesh
soft to the touch.
Gentle fingers tracing
I love you
on your thigh.

Do you remember that hot summer night
we went out collecting
Fireflies by moonlight?
In a Mason jar, hundreds, maybe dozens
flashing, shining, searching for a mate.  
Afterward we made love
by their living candle light.
Even now, many years gone
I remember your body
like a long lost home.
The hotter our passion, the more they shined;
burning themselves out
in our rapture.
By morning they were dead;
a Mason jar of empty things,
like memories lesson for us now.

You are safe.
I am not
those men... I am
this man.
I could get used to you
in my life...
and follow your path
to see when it leads,
even unto
the end of days.
We,
you and me
deserve more
time.

My editor stopped by this morning
with my landlady,
a woman of epic proportions.
He gazed at me with a jaded eye;
poked me in the ribs and said,
“Is he ripe yet?”
“Still some meat on the bone
and his eyes aren’t glazed enough;
I need that haunted, hollow stare
buyers love so much.”
“A few more weeks and he’ll do us fine”.
The landlady nodded and took some money.
He never even looked at the manuscript.
How can I lay in my coffin and think
when they keep talking
about my future?

Forgive us Lord for we know not what we do.
We know not what sins we commit,
or what blessing confer.
We know not what we corrupt,
or what we make whole.
We know not who we damage,
or the souls we heal.

Well it looks like life
has run out of trees for you
this walk through the world,
little buddy.

You were so very good
all the days of your life...
such an open heart;
mine is breaking.

This walk;
our last one together,
I will carry you
though I do not know the way.