They say love
Is the ultimate drug

They say love
Will give you enough
Of a buzz
Because love
Is a chemical rush

I say love
Is just an excuse to get ******
Just a dream for a nut
Cause I am a dreaming nut
I am a sucker for that thing

We say love to our lovers
If you know what I mean

I chased her my lovely dream
Infernal queen of the unseen
Abstract empty black
Crimson and withering
Winter blooming
Years on end

Till I forgot my dear friend
And she found other lovers
A little blond boy,
A couple lost pets
An old man
An old woman
An old friend

She came circling again
Leaving me behind
To make time
While she robbed me blind

Rose petals and ashes
All in the past is
Under the ground

Red robe stained
I chased her less
As I got older
Knowing she
Will come around again
And again till
It is my turn to end

Looking out over the forest.
  No mention of God here,
but the trees speak
   so well of themselves
           that I can touch
             and taste them.

In a darkened room
     with my solitude.
                            No talk of spirits,
   but I can almost hear
        my breath
        passing thru the walls.

I am a creature of seeking,
    but no matter how far I go,
     and no matter how well I
      understand the hills around my home,
when I lay down to sleep
    I am forever the dweller
        of a land unknown.

My thoughts are crabbed and sallow,
My tears like vinegar,
Or the bitter blinking yellow
Of an acetic star.

Tonight the caustic wind, love,
Gossips late and soon,
And I wear the wry-faced pucker of
The sour lemon moon.

While like an early summer plum,
Puny, green, and ****,
Droops upon its wizened stem
My lean, unripened heart.

They said,  "you're not a poet"
"You don't write about love"
"About beauty and harmony"
"You should write with a quality of light"

I replied, "what about the pain"
"The torment within the soul"
"The expression to feel rejected"
"For l see light through darkness"

They said, "You have no meter"
"Your words lack any rhyme"
"You should write with rhythm"
"That is what poetry is about"

I replied, "I am a reflection"
"I can not be anything else"
"My words come from my mind"
"For my poetry is about.......me"