It is amazing, the life of a wave.
It takes forever to build up
and then once it finds its way to the beach,
is alive for only a couple seconds.
As beautiful as this sounds,
the act of the surfer is even more.
The wave exists momentarily
but while it does,
the surfer carves smooth silky lines into it
creating a form of art seen only by few.
After that, that single wave is gone forever;
It is not coming back.
The surfer will never surf that same wave again.
The life of the wave now only exists in memory.

Personally, I find nothing more beautiful than that.

B.K.

i think
your neck
is a delicacy
soft
smooth
bitter
and sweet.

They say there are storms in
                                            teacups.

There like a summer breeze,


compared
              to the tsunami
         of caffeine denial.
                   That floods
                    upon the shores of my

         day washing everyone away.

I need my Jave, like I need to breath..

Sunshine gleaming
Against the evergreen trees
Shadows stretch along the river
Leaves fall, moved by the gentle breeze

The river glitters
The light spots flashing
The clear water dashing
Around jagged rocks

The current creates darkened ripples
Expanding upon the ridges
Inky patterns billowing
The swirls glint and twirl

Smooth like
Sugar and
Spice
And
Fire.

Sweet like
Hornets and
Coffee
And
Liars.

I am the slither of fur in the night,
Glint of moonlight which captures the sleek
silver
of a cat's back
And the ghostly glow
of a cat's eyes.