How many times
Can I lie you your truth?
My honesty is suspect
And my hammer is soft.
How many nails
Must I pretend to pound
Before you see
That nothing holds?
I cannot see your definition
But I can raise my words
And ante up
Knowing that both of our best bets
Are riding on
A bluff.

I know it's been more than too many years
I am not the boy you loved
Nor the man you left
And I guess
You are not the girl I fell for
Or the woman who left me
But I do know that we are still ourselves
And regardless of the winds and hours
And Years and sins
And miles and miles
And tears by the bucket
Eventually drying
Along roadsides we don't remember
Driving
That first kiss
Still drives me wild.

It's a logistical rule I own
To attempt a poem
Every day
Based on a word
Or a feeling
But I wasn't
Feeling much
Today
So I gambled
A gambol
In the Webster's
And it was my thumb's fate
To find "Palpitate".
Funny that the previous poems
Both deep and sincere
Had the Heart as their center
So clear and unpretentious
And ****-near annoying
Relentless in their calling
Out to a Lost Love or three...
Old "woe is me"
Always attempting to
Circumnavigate the heart.
To go around the push-pull
Of Love lost denied
And surf away on the curl
Of swollen palpitate.

I've known a couple Judy's in my days
I dated two or several three or so
And each and every one was quite Herself...
(For every Judy's different, don't ya' know...)

There's several, maybe dosens, that I've known
All Judys in the highest of regard.
All prim and proper, stately or rotund,
(And quite a few I've kissed in my backyard.)

I hold a special place inside my heart
For all those Judys that I've yet to meet.
I've cleared a space out there in my backyard...

A wild bull
Wakes me from
My sweet dream
Of you
**** coffee
Or sagacious wind
Or pets-needing-out
Just Stop It!
Let me fall back
Into that dark domain
Of You
For a while
For a few more
Pillow-case drools
Where Morning
Is years away.

There's no sweet hai-ku
Equal to you or your scent.
No garden holds you.

Words alone can not
Define the undefined You.
Flowers are your eyes.

From the skies clouds fall
To be gentled by your touch.
Whispering fogs weep.

There is no perfume
No stolen, wan aroma
Equal to your breath.

Armies march blindly,
And nations worry to dust,
While you rise and bloom.

There is no hai-ku
None that I can find, mind you,
No words to your Sweet.

You are forever.
A myth in the High Garden
Of Time's Secret Song.

Our hours were short.
Yet each moment was a World.
You bloom in my dark.

Golden petals weep.
You are more than counted lines.
Hai-ku's welter  in your shade.

Love has winded by.
Breezed cool past my open heart.
It was you, Summer.

Miles and miles away
Yet you connect
No phone or letter
Even better
You find me in sleep
Deep in alpha/beta/theta flux
In-Between Dream
A skinny touch
Just enough, not too much
To wake me from
You.