Sometimes my words get too personal.
Sometimes they scare me.

Sometimes I wonder how much time I have left.
How many more words will pour out of me.

Will they be the right words?
Will anyone even care?

Most likely my last words
will not feel like my last.

Some letter of love,
or reminiscence of the past,
Some silly little nothing,
with no particular reason why.

Will that be the last thing I write before I die?

One thing is certain,
I won't have a clue.
For I intend to keep writing
until my days are through.

but If I could choose,
I know what I'd do.

I'd end my last poem with
Goodbye, and
I Love You!

Country roads and cool breezes
The medication that is needed
to heal my weary soul.

A winding road, a river bank,
a cold beer, a fishing pole.

Lying in the sun,
a concentrated inactive non pursuit of fun.

Yet it will come, it will come
of its own accord.

And peace and tranquility shall be the reward,
for doing nothing, and just for a moment
allowing life to just be.

That is the secret of life
of feeling alive,
That is the secret to being free.

Phoenix

 Rising from the ashes of our love.

 You spread your wings and fly,
 Soaring into eternity,
while I dissolve 
into ash below you.

The Phoenix consumes all it touches.

It is the price of immortality.

And only she will remember, 
how brightly I burned for her.

Alien invasion,
little blue men falling from the sky.

They're coming for our jobs.I tell you! 
The blue men must die!

Nuke them, trap them,
ship their blue butts back home.

Go invade someone else's galaxy,
leave ours alone.

We're not giving you our women,
our money, or our food.

You're just interstellar criminals,
who can't even speak our language,
that's just rude!

So strap that rocket to your tail,
and go back to where you came.

Earth's borders are closed.
So we can make it great again!

Is debate no longer taught in school?
That would explain a thing or two.

Having your own opinion is crucial,
but understanding someone else's is too.

Devils Advocate is always my favorite position to play.

That doesn't mean I'm looking to change my mind
just means I want to understand the other side.

To start a discourse, to find common ground,
to allow dialog to flow with no anger found.

Lay that thought to rest,
If it's not personal, it'll never be your best.

They can sense fake,
they know when it's not true.

It's not personal,
if it doesn't cut you.

If it doesn't sting
or make you bleed.

If you're not afraid,
or choked up when you read.

These lines are your life,
your babies,
your soul.

Put out to the world
to rake over the coals.

To poke and ****,
dissect and analyze.

The critics don't care
how much you labored or cried.

In fact
Most will never even acknowledge your work
until after you've died.

I don't want to write Of politics, and policy
I don't want to take their service
and drape it in a flag.

I don't want to talk of sacrifice 
They gave all they had.

I don't want to talk of Bravery,
Heroic deeds of how they Died for me.
(instead)
I want to talk of family,
Father's and Sons,
Brothers, Husband's and Friends.

The young men who didn't Come back again!

The ones who served and returned
but were never quite the same.

I don't want to make statements
Or lay blame,
I just want to walk this wall
and remember their names.

And hope someday,
walls like this
won't need to be built again.

The meaning of life is found
somewhere between
a lover's sighs and a baby's cry.

Somewhere between
passion and pain,
between freedom and responsibility.

Between a life dreamed and reality.

The meaning of life is in the seeking,
the finding comes gradually,
perpetually,
and almost always accidentally.

A man alone is not a man just a force without a purpose.
No one to protect, to guide, or provide for,
just a force without a purpose.

A woman alone is lost, no one to nurture, or nourish,
no one to teach or cherish.
A woman alone is lost.

Of course my view is wrong,
perhaps sexist or chauvinistic,
but the differences are plain to see,
and to me the differences are complimentary.

A man is completed by a woman
and a woman is completed by a man.

Two halves that make a greater whole
two pieces reuniting one soul.

I am a man without a purpose.
Will you complete me???

Lying beside you
my hand upon your hip,
the soft warm feel of your skin.

I listen to you breathing,
smell the perfume in your hair,
another night I won't sleep again.

I take my rest in knowing,
that you are here with me.

A million words cannot express the way I feel.

You are the love story that I can never write,
I only pray you know that it is real.

You are the epic that I long to live,
you're my every sunset,
every flower, every song.

And as I watch you sleeping,
waiting just to make love to you.

I hope the coming morning won't take long.

Coffee flavored kisses say Good Morning. 
I love it when you wake me up this way.
I pull you into the bed beside me.

I tease "How bout a roll in the hay?
"She smiles and laughs
"I'm allergic, but if you wanna stay in bed I'll play."

We kiss and tumble through the morning,
She whispers, "Hurry up we haven't got all day!"

I laugh, "Where you gotta be old woman?"
"Nowhere, but go faster anyway!"

I oblige her request,
she always brings out my best,
but as I lay back to rest.
She says,
"Get your *** up old man,
it's your turn to make the coffee!"

I smile, and do as I am told.
Today's gonna be a good day!

******* a poet
You'd think it would be easy.

Just avert your eyes, don't see me.

Let my words flounder upon pages unread,
surely that's the way to make a poet dead.

Alas I must say that's very far from true.
You see lonely poets write even more poetry
when they're feeling blue.

When they're feeling beat down, broken, torn in two,
It seems that's when their best work shines through.

So, How do you **** a poet?
I wonder why you'd want to.

But hey that's just my opinion,
if you still do.

Try a gun that usually works!

Sometimes it feels,
the world spins just for me.

Sunrises and sets,
appearing magically.

Night skies flickering,
Milkyway drifting by,

It's enough to bring tears to my old eyes.
This majesty of being alone,
A bit of a miracle all on its own.

On this big blue marble eight billion call home.

Some no doubt are seeing exactly what I see,
and I wonder if they feel as special as me?

Do they stare into the sky and think to themselves,
it spins just for me?

My God I hope they do!!!

I wonder why some poems
flounder and some poems fly.

I do not cry, or ponder to long,
for to write simply for others
somehow seems wrong.

I've written many lines
that will never see the light of day,
not that their better or worse
than those on display.

Their just a piece of me I'm not ready to give away.

I know that notion may seem obscene,
what could he possibly be hiding
that we haven't yet seen?

I can assure you in the grandest scheme of things
my skeletons are few,
But shouldn't a poet always hold
at least one secret
or maybe even two?

What is the value of a life
Of a husband or a wife 
Of a daughter or a son.

Do these labels give value to one,
More so over the other?

Is a wife less valuable than a mother,
A father more valuable than a son?

Does value rise or fall
as one becomes another?

Surely every life can't be worth the same!
Can it?

 I wonder.
Is a peasants life,
of less value than a kings!

Or does Status, Creed, Race, or Color,
truly, not mean a **** thing?

It is true that I would place my
wife, my son, and my brothers
life over that of another.

But that value is given to them only by me.
No life is worth more
than any other in reality.

Yet until we can open
our hearts and minds to see.

The true value of life will never be!

If I was ten years younger
I'd show you a thing or three!

I was only seventeen
She was at least twenty years older than me.

But I was in the mood for her knowledge
and she taught with style and grace.

And thinking back, even now
it puts a smile on my face.

I loved her through the summer
It ended in the fall.

And I never told a soul.
She was married after all.

I heard the other day
that she had passed away.

So I visited her one last time
and discreetly
I placed a rose upon her grave.

I thanked her for the lessons learned
and all the love she gave.

The moon rises high into the night.
Casting reflections across the rain soaked streets.

Images of you walking away is all I see.

I chase you through the ripples,
disappearing beneath my feet.

I chase you through the dawn
until your reflection is just gone.

And through tears I wonder,
Will you ever return to me?

Or will your reflection
haunt me forever,
within my memories.

Empty your pockets before
you tell me your lies.

Because pockets hold guns,
money, and keys,
and 1000 other things you don't want me to see.

In the beginning we were naked
with nothing to hide.

We walked through this garden side by side.

But now silk robes and deep pockets
complete your disguise.

So empty your pockets 
before you speak to me,
I demand proof
that there's nothing to see!

In fact don't even bother to speak.

I refuse to believe, 
until you've shown yourself to be
every bit as naked
as you've forced me to be!

She's so **** cute!
It's hard to believe,
this perfect girl could ever see,
even the least little something in a guy like me.

Introverted and shy, just an average guy,
who's somewhat daft with a pen.

Plying rhythmic schemes
on this girl of my dreams,
hoping somehow to win.  

To win her favor
to hold her hand,
to kiss her lips so fair.

Really, could my words touch her heart?
Will she even care?

Every Poets torment,
every Poets despair
That the desires of his heart
should fall on deaf ears.

But occasionally he is heard
sometimes she even clings on every word
and falls just as deeply as he.

And that my friends is why
this Joe Average guy,
learned to pour his heart out in poetry.

Romantic adventures
are not moments to treasure,
The thrill of the chase no longer moves me.

Catch and release,
fish stories of fantasy.
Always Pining the one that got away.

Trophies on a wall,
I swear I had them all,
but tell me where are they today?

The thrill of the chase no longer moves me.
Give me a hand to hold,
a love that will soothe me.

Moments made and treasured,
through passing years.

Not just memories of glories, 
that quickly fade away.

(acoustic guitar intro)
(verse)
I remember the look in your eyes
I remember the sound of your sighs
I remember all of those good good times

(chorus)
but that was before you lied
before you made me cry
before you broke my heart.
Please tell me why!
Please tell me why!

(verse2)
I remember the good times we had
and I remember before our love turned bad
but I can't remember why.
because.

(chorus)
that was before you lied,
before you made me cry
before you broke my heart.
Please tell me why!
Please tell me why!

(instrumental bridge) (guitar solo)

Please tell me why
Please tell me why,
Tell me why you lied
why our love died.

I remember the look in your eyes,
I remember the sound of your sighs
the good times we had,
before our love turned bad,
but I can't remember why.

Why you Lied,
Why did you lie?

(outro)
Why did you lie?
Please tell me,
Please tell me
Why?
Why?

Why.
Please tell me why you lied

Please make me stay,
why should we say, Goodbye?
Open up your heart, give love another try.
Don't close the door,
don't let it die.
Please make me stay,
we're running out of time.

Didn't I make you smile,
more than I made you cry?
Didn't I bring you pleasure?
I can still hear your sighs!
I'm running out of reasons,
I'm running out of rhymes.

Please make me stay,
why should we say, Goodbye?
Open up your heart, give love another try.
Don't close the door,
don't let it die.
Please make me stay,
we're running out of time.

Don't you know my heart breaks,
just the same as you.
Don't you know I feel pain,
in the same way too?
I'm running out of words,
we're running out of time

Please make me stay,
Please make me stay.
Don't close the door,
don't let it die.
Please make me stay,
we're running out of time.
we're running out of time.

Don't let our love run out of time.
Out of time
out of time
out of time

Maybe the ropes were a bit too tight,
the act a little too real tonight.

He kissed the bruises on her wrist.

Kissed the red marks where the candles dripped.

Submission for her was a game of fun,
She chose him to be the dominant one.

He played his part, he drove her hard.

But he played this game for love.

Roles reversed,
Miss Submissive dealt the cards!

Tell me what it is you want me to see
Sometimes my mind wanders, or wonders,
I'm not sure which.

Maybe it's both, maybe it's neither
Maybe I'm just overcome with desire.

You often have that effect on me!

Anyway!

Tell me once again, what it is
you want me to see.

I'll try to pay attention this time.

My God You're BEAUTIFUL!

Do you know that?
ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL!!!

Lemonade sun and tangerine dreams.
Voodoo smiles and passionate screams.

Lying in wait, like a wolf in the night
Teaching pleasures of ****** delight.

Kiss me like a stranger,
A lover you've known all your life.

In your deepest dreams in your darkest nights.

I'm always here to satiate your call,
The spectral lover who knows all.

Deepest urges, darkest desires,
I'll guide your hand, quench your fire.

Then release you my dear
when that lemonade sun
comes pouring in.

One final kiss
But I'll see you again.

I'll always see you again.

Even if it's only in dreams.

There's something about the rain
that brings comfort from the pain.

That washes away the tears,
or at least masks their stains.

That chills a burning heart,
numbs the throbbing pain
turning the world blue in solidarity.

Do the angels cry with you?

Sometimes it seems they do,
as we lift our heads for Clarity.

Smiling through the pain
for there's something about the rain,
and in knowing the world is crying with you!

You touch the spot on my heart that makes it beat.
It flutters for you and my life's blood flows.

I see your face when I am sleeping, 
awake you're my dreams come true.

You're a kiss in the moonlight, 
a walk in the rain, 
and every romantic cliche, 
that you could think to name.

There are no words to express all the love I feel for you, 
but as a poet I must try, 
until my days are through.

So I'll end on a line stolen,
repeating what you once told me true.

(You have bewitched me, 
body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.

I never wish to be parted from you,
from this day on.)

Thank You Jane Austin.

I love to walk through cemeteries
reading all the stones.

Not the names so much
as the stories that are told.

I really like the old ones
where the live oaks grow.

And the dead lie in shaded
gardens planted all in rows.

Marble angels look towards heaven,
with weathered wings and robes.

stone cherubs represent nameless babies
from a hundred years ago.

Fine cut pillars of the hardest stone,
mark graves of rich men who died alone.

and in the farthest corners
the small cement stones.

barely readable names
of people no one knows.

But the soil is no worse
here than it is over there.

And the angel in the center
just pretends to cry.

Honestly, she doesn't care.

Verse]
The world looks back through a motel window,
Just another town without a name.
The road is calling me,while I sit here waiting out the rain.


[Chorus]
Waiting out the rain
trying to regain
some perspective
I've lost along the way.

Waiting out the rain
Memories streak through my brain
Like the  drops against the window pane.
And suddenly I'm back again.


[Verse 2]
Looking at the world through
a motel window
Just another town without a name

Tomorrow I am leaving
Come hell or high-water
I'll be gone.
This vagabond spirit in my soul
Won't let me stay anyplace to long.

[Bridge]

So now I'm,

[Chorus]
Waiting out the rain
trying to regain
some perspective
I've lost along the way.

Waiting out the rain
Memories streak through my brain
Like the  drops against the window pane.
And suddenly I'm back again.


[Outro]
I'm back again
I'm back again
Waiting out the rain

Seems like I'm always
Just waiting out the rain
Waiting out the rain...

I hope there never comes a time

When the blackness in our minds,

surpasses grief and sorrow.

When rage begs not, to be contained.

And sadness no longer cares about tomorrow.

No longer cares, the circumstance.

Making good men heed the witching hours call.

When souls are lost,

and honor falls.

And love is just a word.

Once heard,

But a feeling no longer remembered

at all.

Their eyes met again for the first time.
Unkindled sparks smoldering for years ignite,
He kisses her and she burns.

Scared, scarred,
they kiss hard, her fire spreads.

From her cheeks, to her *****,
to her *****.

Until they are a pyre of love and lust,
Feeding and consuming each other
Like wind on Fire, love erupts!

And suddenly,
they dissolve into each other,
like a soft ash sigh,
gently flickering
against the dark of night.

[verse]
I sit by the window
play my guitar,
and think of you.
I wonder where you are,
Is it raining there too?

[chorus]
Sometimes it rains
Sometimes it pours
Sometimes the sad songs
just can't help anymore,
and my eyes fill with raindrops of you.

[verse2]
I stare back out the window
write a line or two.
If I could get this song on the radio,
Maybe you'd hear it too.

[bridge]

[chorus]
Sometimes it rains
Sometimes it pours
Sometimes the sad songs
just can't help anymore,
and my eyes fill with raindrops of you.

[guitar solo]

Yeah

[outro]
If I could get this song on the radio,
Maybe you'd hear it too.

Maybe you could hear it.

Maybe you could hear it,
Hear it through the rain.
I believe Baby!
Because Sometimes it Rains
but, sometimes,
sometimes
Sometimes the sun shines too.

[slow fade]
yes it does

Some people read my poetry
and think they know me.

Some wonder am I the romantic
I seem to be.

Is my life filled with passions,
and mystery?

Is it full of solitude,
Am I truly the lone wolf,
wandering the roads?

Am I carefree, charismatic,
mournful, spiritual, shy, decadent, tragic?

The answer is Yes, and No!

At times I've been all,
and even none of these.

Storyteller mostly, some fiction,
some reality.

And in the end you will see the me,
you want to see.

But that's ok, because,
I see you, and yes I even see me,
the same way.

She does this thing
a subtle imperfection.

She puts her hair up,
and lets it spill out
along the edges.

Framing her face in sunlight,
diffused just right,
through locks of gold.

Her eyes smile in unison
with the curve of her lips.

Her blue eyes pierce my soul.

And then she laughs,
the sweetest little laugh.

And my heart is no longer my own.

Love is just a dream of hormone imbalanced teens.
It does not exist in reality.

As I struggle to understand the longings of a man,
*** is not the answer for me.

I've had your body in every way,
Still it's your heart and soul for which I pray.

To meet your gaze in the moonlight,
hold your hand in our twilight,
to disappear into the sunset with you.

I wonder,
do you feel the same, or am I just insane? 

It's the only answer that I long for,
and fear the most from you.

Kiss her hard
A little harder than she's use too.

Let her know that she's the one
you want to come home to.

Make love like kids,
in the back seat of a Ford.

Say her name when loving her,
give her something more.

When the hell did loving
become so civil?

When did it become
a Saturday night chore?

Can't we just do it on a Tuesday,
how about right here on the floor!

**** Baby!!!

Don't you know I still love you?

In a drunken kiss
I write of bliss.

debauchery, and pain.

Of pleasures unsavored,
of love unclaimed.

Of mornings without sunshine,
and evenings soaked in rain.

With a swollen head I sit
reading pages, I wonder did I even write.

And in melancholic forgetfulness 
I read with fear and delight.

Not knowing whether to be proud
or scream at the words before me.

Like waking in flight,
from an auto-pilot dream.

Not knowing if the words
came from the ***** or me!

[verse 1]
I call you on the phone
a thousand miles from home
still I can feel your breath in my ear.
[guitar]
This trip has been hell,
I'm telling you baby,
It's so hard to sleep
when you're not here.

[chorus]
So hold the phone a little closer,
let my eyes drink you in.
Tell me that you want me,
imagine my skin on your skin.

[verse 2]
This tour is nearly over,
another month and I'll be home,
the crowds and the spotlight,
can't ease the pain of being alone.

[instrumental Bridge]

[chorus]
So hold the phone a little closer,
let my eyes drink you in.
Tell me that you want me,
imagine my skin on your skin.

[breakdown]
This tour is nearly over,
another month and I'll be home,

So hold the phone a little closer,
Baby, I'm coming home.
Hold the phone a little closer,
I'm so tired of being alone!

[outro]
So hold the phone a little closer,
keep holding on Baby
I'm coming home
I'm coming home
I'm coming home...

Prompts:
Starts with a mournful electric guitar arpeggio and steady traditional drum groove. Sad male vocals enter over sparse bass and atmospheric alternative rock textures. Chorus swells with bluesy lead guitar lines interweaving, drums intensifying. Bridge features expressive guitar solo before fading outro.

Sun tracks high through
a Carolina blue sky.

Down twisting turning roads I fly.

Nothing quite like a Carolina morning,
Sweet Baby James rings in my ears.

Clouds mingle with the mountains
water flows from the rocks like fountains
My God I wish that you were here.

I wish you were here,
Whispering sweet love songs in my ear,
as we while away the miles on the road.

As much as I love to wander,
I'll never stray for long,
Your voice, it always calls me home.

For a Carolina Morning 
no matter how beautiful,

Is never quite as beautiful alone.

Sleeping with the bottle 
I know she's not a friend 
but when I'm feeling lonely 
she always lets me in.

Lets me in and holds me 
in her arms and in her Haze.
Lets me in and holds me,
as I drift away.

Sleeping with the bottle, 
I've tried to walk away. 
But when everyone abandons me, 
I know she will stay.

She lets me in and holds me. 
in her arms and in her haze.
Lets me in and holds me,
as I drift away.

She lets me in and holds me. 
I try to walk away.

Still her warmth keeps calling me 
But I don't want to stay.

She lets me in and holds me.
But I don't want to stay.
She lets me in and holds me.
But I don't want to drift away.

I don't want to.
No I don't, I don't want to,
Drift away.

Drift   away,
Drift   a w a y....

Her head on my chest
Softly she rests 
In the aftermath of loving.

This is the part 
The thing that touches my heart. 

I kiss her forehead
and run my fingers through her hair.

Listening to her sleeping
Lost in the feeling.

This is what love is, 
This is believing,
Conceiving something better,
I can't begin too.

Sleep peacefully My Love.

Let's get naked
And lie down on the shore.

Let the waves caress our bodies
let me touch you once more.

From here to eternity
that image burns in my brain.

As the waves purify us
make us clean again.

Baptize us together
wash all our sins away.

From here to eternity
In your arms I'll always stay.

I posted this poem a few weeks ago but
have since turned it into a song on
my you tube channel.
I'd like to invite you to check it out at

www.youtube.com/@tsummerspoetry

if you'd like to just read the poem it's here on my
HP Page Thanks!

Kiss me in the darkness.
Touch me how you want to!

Let the feeling take you,
to places you've never been to.

There is truth in the darkness,
for our souls will find the light,
the light in each other
burning so bright.

So Kiss me in the darkness,
Let our souls fly to the sun.
Stay with me past the morning,
For our love has just begun.

Memories are gateways to the past.

Childhood endeavors that couldn't last.

Passages through time, 
love and laughter, joy and tears.

Moments to savor in our passing years.

Still there are memories left to make, 
Surely there are gateways yet to take. 

Highways and byways to explore.

Paths of golden light
reaching deep into the night, 
leading us to some far off cosmic shore.

Too more memories,
more roads, 
life's a book we pray
will never close. 

Even as the final chapter nears its end. 

We look for another gate, 
a portal escaping fate.

And hope for a new journey to begin.

Should we kiss?
I must admit,
I miss the taste of a woman,
the face of a woman,
the place a woman fills in my bed.

Pulling her close in the night
soft skin and silk pajamas,

better yet no pajamas,
just her soft sultry flesh
pressed against mine.

Limbs intertwined,
passion in her eyes,
Lavender Febreze
and the smell of *** cloud my senses.

And in this moment
I am tempted to let down all my defenses.

As words like love,
relationship,
and monogamy  
fill my mind.

This lone wolf life
is not all it's cracked up to be.

So back to the question: should we kiss?

My answer most definitely!

My reflection in a lake
seems so much more real to me.

So much beneath the surface
that no one ever sees.

But what is the reality,
Which one is real?

The Reflection you see,
or what lies beneath!

Surrender to me,
your lips, your *******, your hips.

Surrender to me,
all the love in your heart,
all the passion in your soul.

Give your all to me,
here in my arms,
here in the dark.

All that you give,
I swear,
I will give my all in return.

You are the fire raging in my heart,
You are the passion burning in my soul.

You are the meaning,
the essence of love,
of life, of joy.

You've created a man,
from this once shy boy.

So Surrender to me
as I already have to you.

Together we will share
a dream that can only
be shared by two.

Building a love, a life, a world,
beyond me and you.

Beyond the physical,
beyond the spiritual.

Simply beyond anything,
we ever knew.

They found his body decomposing
rotting away in a chair.

It took seven day for them to find him,
just sitting there.

Fingers locked to a cell phone,
battery also quite dead.

It took a brave soul to revive it,
to look and see what it said.

It said,
In my time of dying,
I sit here.

All alone, no love around,
no family, no friends,
just alone in the end.

Waiting to hear from my true love,
I hope I hear from you today.

One last I love you,
All I want to hear you say.

It came 2 days later,
but all it said was.

HEY.