A shattered being is all I want from destiny,
Oh my beloved one, would you put me together?

My smithereens perk up by your only glance,
Oh my beloved, would you not let the moon steal your sight?

The raven black of your eyes sink my ship in,
Oh my beloved, would you let this dream shatter me more?

Again my being is lost in the wind's beat,
Oh my beloved, would you let loose the words in a talk?

It is the night, heavy with whispers and sighs,
Oh my beloved, would you confront my love and then abolish it?

In the stillness, where shadows dance like memories,
Oh my beloved, would you weave our hearts into a single thread?

Let the stars witness this fragile truth,
Oh my beloved, would you hold my fragments until dawn breaks?

the dusty old school rock cds on the cracked cubby top
brush it off, but some still remains
coughing a bit up before setting it down to reminisce
it all reminds me of
the way the Polaroid camera snapped the life outta me
how every word you said was so heavy that i started sinking
how we were headbanging for kicks and started becoming wild creatures
how the radio cringed and squealed and how we still sang every word to “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”
how the guitar riffs are just pain coming out into art
bursting with meaning and passion

the dusty old school rock cds sit there, stationary on that same cracked cubby top
and we recall the past as if it was some life-changing yesterday

Where have all the good girls gone?
The ones who prefer brains to brawn.
Today's girls seem to like tattoos;
They like bad boys who bring bad news.

When I grew up the girls were classy.
They were smart and kind and super sassy.
But now they're shallow and superficial;
They're so covetous and artificial.

Love should be about heart and soul.
About the truth that makes us whole.
Forget Facebook and Instagram;
Just talk to me: I'm an old school man.

©canadian_cowboy

reflect the sky at the dividing line
thousands, pilgrims, acrobatic flight
cautionary signals, holy outline
carry the form of grace and light.

countable and uncountable, alight
coastal meadows of purple aster
neon sun behind the fog, fading night
winged silhouettes settling at Big Sur.  

aerial blueprints, circling wet fir,
time resolved into opaque brushstroke,
compass lines, body before mind, umber
cliffs springing off a morning flock, awoke.

       red on red ridden their wild throats, pigment
       of deepest origin, indifferent.

I'm the best and worst,better than your first,
*******, but worse than Courtney takin' the Shotgun to Kurt,
Chick-Chick BOOM! too soon?-get the the **** out
I got more brains than the Cobains Greehouse,
He was in Nirvana...now maybe he's IN NIRVANA,

I don't know I'll leave it there maybe ask Buddha,
brutha believe me you can't deceive me,or relieve me,
even a trained hunting Dog can't retrieve me

Let's be Frank...
I leave rappers quieter than Helen Keller's beef with Anne Frank,
need enough Franc's for a trip to France to get some stamp's Franked...

Frank White or Frank Castle I'm an angry Irish *******,
arguments against me are simply facile,
sit the **** down, drop the Mic like a hot Spud,
afore you get stood all over by the Bull Stud,
I'm a ******* detector, Patriotic defector,
criminal Electors rippin' off the Exchequer
while I'm busy in your Ma's room strippin off her knickers!

I'm swimmin with an Army of ex Special Forces Women
to the Island offshore accounts are on Gunnin' and Grinnin,
constantly Sinnin' I'm Constantine slammin a Mirror offa Demon
Leavin your bird's face like a Doughnut glazed in *****,
dosin' every coffee cup in MIT with DMT,
Observin Scientists tip over at the knees like fallin' trees
new discoveries abound as PHD'***** the ground,
if Forest Whitaker fell in the woods would he make a sound?

My ground and pound will confound-verbal skills will astound,
next memory is wakin' up with a crowd around,
ye wanna step and test?,don't mean to be crude,
but ye must have a real taste for hospital food,
through a straw-thru a wired up jaw,
playing ****** up games like Saw,
ye shoulda saw the consequences when ya raised yer paw
yer Paw shoulda raised ye better bout raisin' fists to yer betters,
bunch of bedwetters tryin' to do a Man's job, forget it.

I'm the best and the worst,best friend-worst enemy,
big mistake offendin' me,don't need no one defendin me
but I still have a crew of real hard rocks,
the lads are used to the hard knocks,
you're used to the hard *****!
your faces are so shocked,
you just got yer snot rocked
now you're layin' face first cause you ****** with the best/worst!

It’s an odd romance,
Yet it felt so right,
The charcoal that paints the pristine whites.
Like the scratches and scores across the flawless skin,
The smell of graphite sunk in her skirts,
A touch so rough, yet she yearns.

The creator smiled in delight,
The satisfaction shown in the depths,
From the soul the words formed,
Strung to a garland that met the lead.
The curves and lines the charcoal drew,
Made her quiver in pleasure and pain.

The creator dwelled in these sounds and sights,
Of the romance between his pen and paper.
Like water for a parched throat,
The words soothed many souls.