(First draft)

An authentic smile defeated then deleted long ago, zero chance of winnin' stretchin' all the way back to my beginnin'
It was a genuine expression that slowly melted to an unrecognizable reflection
All pigmentation givin' way revealin' a secondary, ghostly stand in
Granted, it happened in my formative years before I was abandoned due to the mutation
But the impact has been felt through forty somethin' calendars and countin'
A true representation of life's failed mission, I'm guessin'
Not necessarily my opinion but one every other person is holdin', no question
Still wouldn't say it's been a waste but the needles strongly leanin' towards no reason for existin'
An overall lack of position, doesn't seem like I was designed to fit in, that is if my life has been any indication
I manage to make it to and through the proverbial one more day but where's the lesson?
This just feels like non-monetary extortion of a life-sized portion
Take far more than what's given, with or without permission
I'm still in competition with myself, the prize, livin'
The compromise, loosin' myself in a broken system or durin' the transition
The eradication of an inner companion, replacin' compassion with aggression, smooth sailin' with frustration, no direction, no validation
The transition to curmudgeon happened earlier than expected, drawin' parallels from the curious case of Benjamin Button
Not for nothin', the infestation of negative thoughts caused a mutation inside and out, completely loosin' what it means to be human
It's not a lose lose situation, and it sure ain't win win, and any other option, I'm guessin', got lost in translation
But I'm pretty sure somethin's gotta end in order for another somethin' to begin, at least that's what I'm hearin'
Still can't find a reason that justifies the conviction, is what I'm feelin' damnation? Is what I'm seein' my own creation?
It could just be that no matter what I'm not goin' to enjoy the conclusion, not allowed to settle on your preferred endin'
No fat lady singin', just a band playin' as I feel myself sinkin' into oblivion so pardon me for givin' up on salvation
It should go without sayin' but you're waistin' away waitin' for divine intervention, be careful what you use for inspiration
It may not be your intention, but there's no hate like the love of a christian, I'm just sayin'
Pay attention, who you're praying to every day may not be the one listenin'

©2023

Silver Beach: Always the Sole First

familiar white fishing boat, up with early light,
seeking sustenance and pleasure in = measure,
anchored ‘bout quarter mile east of my under-the-coverlet,
(of course! as the crow, raven or scavenging osprey flies),
it’s precise location amazingly exact, but alas, soon daily
familiarity breeds no secrecy, and now joined by a
farther out, smaller version, a compatriot in spotitude,
of the best spots for harvesting the early running
brackish bay water favorites, striped or black sea bass

what persistent fortitude these fisher-peoples display,
early to rise, first to depart, when others crowd its “spot,”
(amazed by its knowing precision the exactitude of “spot”)
this ship, always the sole-first, invokes a first poem of the day,
always a soul-first, an unburdening of deepest gratitude that
one more day granted me to imbibe this vista, awake to its
soothing silent heavenly serenity, absent machine or
electronic interference with my delicate sleepy wakefulness,
when newly minted words come into my mind, my
secret spot



Sat AM June 3

In the witching hour all is quiet except for the beating sound of two hearts entwined with passion and agony beating more angry by the minute.

Blinded eyes try to pierce through the dark abyss to find sanity in a place of cold nothingness and desolation, as the tortured mind cloudy with regret slowly fades away..

nails claw at blinded eyes longing to see the clouds part and behold, his goddess is there basking in the pale yellowing aura of the moon, as he looks longingly upon her..

skin and curves of perfection soaking up the yellowing, becoming golden upon his slightest gaze.
Knees become burning furnaces of pain and torment as he falls to kneel before her, begging with soundless words of an open mouth for release.
Paralyzed, hungrily devouring as her sightless eyes fall upon her brooding brow trailing down to the blinding stars that become her eyes under the harvest moon.

The wind blows fierce surrounding her in a halo of color plucked dead limbs, trailing off into oblivion.
She gazed upon his visage, her fierceness burning his soul in eternal torment she smirks and glides toward effortlessly slowly,
tantalizingly slow,
causing him great anguish and letting her sadistic humor known to all..

he lashed out and traps her in his iron eyes transfixed  on lips so full and soft as crimson color them tricking down her body hungrily eating her perfect curves he kisses her
hard throwing themselves down a bottom less pit entangled in passion he forces her legs apart he slams into her as she drips wet in anticipation..
She moans breathlessly in extract, her ***** like velvet greedily devours his hardened **** of stone repeatedly ****** her innocence, tired bodies continuously fall exhausted.
She tried to flee, but his fires flamed inside hotly he takes her again.
His embrace hard, intense
his iron will dominating her.
Breaking her wild spirit, she gasps as he unleashes a relentless force inside her driving her to the edge of sanity and back again.

Her eyes close for the last time giving into his dominance
she embraced him.
Her wild flaming spirit shattered knowing that as he worships her it is she who is forever a slave of their passionate love,
melding bodies together,
as they fall endlessly in the abyss.