Rich in
His mercy
that He
has
abundantly
givin'

Scars... ..?

Scars are
simply
a part
of
livin'

Your life
may be
a
broken
glass

You may
be
wounded
but can be
mended
fast

He's not
done
with
you yet

He doesn't
have you
walking
into
today's
sunset

You may
stumble in
today's
regret

But... ..

don't
let it
steal
tomorrow's
breath




written by me... ..

My life's happiness is
what her
spiritual soul
monopolized.

Until one
summer's night,
I lost
them both to
negligent
homicide.

Lips that
are now a
smile's suicide.

And a heart
that now
drowns underneath
every
ocean's tide.


written by me... ..

A bear is chasing me through a meadow
and I’m running as fast as I can but....
he’s gaining on me—it seems
he’s always gaining on me.
I’m running and running but also
thinking I should just
turn around and say,
“Stop it! Stop chasing me. We both
know you aren’t going to catch me.
All you can ever do is chase me.
So,
think about it—why bother?”

The bear does stop,
and he sits on his haunches and thinks,
or seems to think.
And then
the bear says to me,
“I have to chase you, you know that.
Or you should.
And....
sure,
we both know I’ll never catch you.
So, why not give us both a break and
just stop thinking about me?”

But, with that said, he gets back on four feet,
sticks his long pink tongue out, licks down
both sides of his snout.
Then he sighs, looks
behind himself, then at me and says.....
“Okay,
ready when you are.”

The phone rings.
It's an un'famili'ar number.
A message is left.
It's a 'family' member.
It's from a cousin that you haven't spoken to in at least 3 years.
"Your Aunt passed away on July 4th"
your cousin whispers on the message.
"A service will be held next Saturday from 11am to 3pm and her burial will be on Sunday" your cousin continued.
"We hope to see you there" your cousin finishes.

5 minutes later,
everyone's lives move on like nothing ever happened.
But something did.
Your Aunt just died.
Never to be seen on this earth, ever again.
Death was announced over a voice mail message.
RIP Aunty.

Be the
ocean wave
that
in her mind
she systematically surfs over and over throughout the day

Be the
ocean wave that
brings her to shore out of breath and
all passionately crazy

Be the
ocean wave that
sweeps her out
into depths
she has never ventured

Be the
ocean wave


that's

always

her
one of a kind

adventure

Look beyond the midnight skies
well past where the dim light dies
What you might find in the dark
is a brand new way to realize

Look beyond what your eyes see
to where your thoughts try to flee
What you might find in your mind
is a brand new way to be free

This day is bitter sweet.
     It's a reminder of when you passed, my heart kept skipping beats.

     My heart was full of sadness and incredibly weak.
     Like my eyes, my heart felt as if it continued to leak.

     My empty heart I struggled to fill through storms and rain.
     But I finally found Jesus, to ease my once unbearable pain.

     Bitter sweet like a grey sky that turns blue.
      Just know, I may go on with my life but.... I will never stop missing you.

She longed
to
make love
in the
greenest of grass
on the
'summer'ist'
of
summer's days.
So I
gently
laid her down
and she exclaims;

"Please;
Please with me
have
your way"

Love,
she made;
until her thighs
showed
a hue
of grey....


written by me... ..

Trees in bloom
Irish shades of green
Curb - side puddles
Avian nourishment
Feral life line

Claps of thunder
Cracks of lightning
Tulips in Crayola box hues
Blossoms of cherry
Lawnmower engines race

Open windowed cars
Sun bathing convertible'ists
Honks of impatient drivers
Oranged coned pathway
The flagger of traffic

BBQ aroma'd air
Dogs on leashed walks
Splashing screams from backyard pools
Ice cream truck melodies to be heard
Unmistakable smells​ of suntan lotion

Slow it down
This isn't the Daytona 500
Enjoy the sounds of the carnival
Enjoy a full mooned bonfire
And the company it keeps
Soak in everything Spring and Summer
Soon winter's snow will sure to be deep.

written by me... ..

Morning stars together sing
as jays of blue
take flight on wing.

The breeze is limp
as oaks stand still.

The greying sky with rain now fills.

A rainbow falls
upon the ground.

A colorful thud without a sound.

As nightfall crawls across the moon.

I stir my coffee
with spoon in June.

I try to live like there's no tomorrow for me

    I can only enjoy friendships for what you think they may be

       Like Tim McGraw once sang

"Live like you are dying"

           Tomorrow is never a sure thang

          He also once sang about being "humble and kind"

                    Embrace the tranquility in that, the world's drama....hmmmmphf, just nevermind

   Never shy away from telling someone your feelings because...

       There may not  be a tomorrow....complete with no floors and no ceilings

               Living the rest of your life on what could have been...

  Is a slumber in a forever winter's den.

       On the line, go ahead and lay it

Once gone, don't regret the candle you never lit

Life
is a caption

It's not
where you
have been;
it's where
that you
are going

Change course
if the
road ahead
is cloaked
in despair

But just remember;

every road
that you
encounter
is in need
of repair

She was
like a
carnival.
She enjoyed
freaks
like me.
She was
fun to
ride.
She loved the
games.
She tasted
like
sweet
cotton candy.
And at the
end of
the night,
she would
melt into me
like
Dip n' dots
ice cream.
And then,
I would
lick her
clean.
I wish
this carnival
would never
leave town.



written by me... ..

One damp, dreary drizzly grey sky day, a ray of sunshine appeared .

I thought that I heard the doorbell ring, I rose, and then it rang again.

I opened the door to only find a weathered UPS uniform on my concrete stoop.

It smelled of Old Spice and sported a name tag that read " Fireball ".

A pair of black framed reading glasses on the inside of the vest pocket.

A gold plated belt buckle that boasts of how many times the world has been traveled around.

I bend down on one knee to greedily clutch what's left of "Fireball".

I cry, you're traveling is over Dad.
Come on inside now and out of the weather..... and stay with me forever.

Let's dry those wet clothes by the fire and talk about our time apart since you passed away.

I have lots of questions Dad...
We have lots of catching up to do.
I've missed you.



written by me... ..

One damp, dreary drizzly grey sky day, a ray of sunshine appeared .

I thought that I heard the doorbell ring, I rose, and then it rang again.

I opened the door to only find a weathered UPS uniform on my concrete stoop.

It smelled of Old Spice and sported a name tag that read " Fireball ".

A pair of black framed reading glasses on the inside of the vest pocket.

A gold plated belt buckle that boasts of how many times the world has been traveled around.

I bend down on one knee to greedily clutch what's left of "Fireball".

I cry, you're traveling is over Dad.
Come on inside now and out of the weather..... and stay with me forever.

Let's dry those wet clothes by the fire and talk about our time apart since you passed away.

I have lots of questions Dad...
We have lots of catching up to do.
I've missed you.

When someone is told that they have cancer;
they have arrived at their highest point of
vulnerability.

Respect them.

Ignore any and all mood swings.

Love and embrace their numbness.

They are not whom they were moments before being told that they have cancer.

They are a person dying of cancer now.

Dreams are subconscious realities of the mind.

Colors are pigmented pleasures for the eyes.

Fresh cut grass is the garden of Eden when we inhale.

Life is great anticipation just waiting for exhale.

Nevermind ones wounded pride.

It only seems to unleash a living beings animal inside.

Fill yourself with love.

Give yourself to Him above.

The weight of the world can sometimes find us.

Breathe, not only because it is a must.

But breathe because in God we trust.

Scars will still remain but freed of pain.

Leave the anchor....leave the chains.

Please...oh please, come out of the rain.



written by me... ..

On my mind
constantly,
you are.
Confused
I am.
Why?
Why when
I wake up,
you are
on my mind?
Why, during
the middle
of the day,
you are
on my mind?
Why as I
lie in bed
ready to
fall asleep,
you are
on my mind?
Why when
I am dreaming,
you are
in my dreams?
You have been
a muse for
many a
writes because
you,
are on my mind
constantly.
It's dangerous
to even
think about
plugging myself
into you
even once in
the realm of
reality.
I yearn
and literally ache
to touch
every inch
of you.
Is this love?
Is this infatuation?
I am
not sure.
But,
I have never
been more
afraid of
anything in
my life than
how afraid
I am of
touching you
for the
first time.
No words
could possibly describe
the way that
my body would feel or
the way that
my mind
would become
enslaved
to your words
and your
movements.
Constantly,
I dream about
our sunny
and 75
intimate moments
together,
constantly... ..
breathlessly.
Just you
and me
giving one
another each
nanosecond
of our attention
to each other.
Constantly,
you are
on my mind.
Of course,
right now
you are.
Right now,
I am picturing you
in a black
silk laced teddy
leaving all the
right parts of you
covered and leaving my
imagination to
run wild on a
tachycardic
heart rate.
Excuse me
readers while
I wipe the
drool from
my chin
once again.
I ache for our
eyes to meet
at
******'s door
and tremble
in the arms of one another's
exhausted sweaty bodies.
And to just
lie still in
that moment
as one until
we fall asleep
and I dream
of you
once again.



written by me... ..

Yellow crime scene tape waves and ***** in the wind.

Lifeless bodies now one with the ground.

Bystanders walk by like they see nothing.

They walk by with smiles like this is somehow normalcy.

The flashing red and blue lights, the dead bodies lieing there.

Even a few of the officers seem unphased by the sight and stench of death.

They step under and over the crime scene tape like it's just a job, which it is.

But those dead bodies​ lieing there did not wake up that morning thinking they would be some one's job to clean up.

This isn't normalcy, nor should it be.

Yellow crime scene tape is used far too often.

Bystanders gathered around it talking like they are at the beach.

Respect that life when it's alive.

Respect that soul when it's dead.

Gathering around yellow crime scene tape like it's a water fountain is not normalcy.

One day those bystanders may be gathered around you by the flashing red and blue lights.

Remember, we are all someone.

Treat them like they are.

I torture myself
everyday with my mind...
with my thoughts.

Unsure what
to make of what I do
and,
why I feel like
I need to do this
to myself.

But -

I drive home from work,
and I think.....
I just know that -
as I breathe ....
some person,
some animal,
some wonder of God's creation is...
breathing their
last breath.

Somewhere,
someone....
some animal is
being tortured
for no good reason.

The fight for life
at the very moment
I think these thoughts in my mind is taking place.

A last stand -
a barbaric brutal
fight too breathe....

I can't apologize
to my mind
for these thoughts  because...

these thoughts are what make me....me .

Sometimes
I just...

I just wish -
my thoughts would
stop and -
let my mind...
be free.



written by me... ..

Her poems are
little slices
of ******.
They are
full of malice
and
premeditation.
Her weapons
can be found
in a Websters
or "Planned parenthood" center.
Softly and then
savagely she
slaughters you
with lullaby,
prose and
suction.
Dangerous
is she,
the killer
with words.
She stands
with abortion,
a homicidal
maniac with
no soul.
She doesn't
even spare
the unborn
from her
satanistic
poetry.
She's a
cold blooded
murderer
that hides
behind
irresponsibility
and lies.



written by me... ..

Devastated
years ago

You left me... ..
unintentionally

My voice
of forever
reason

The sanity
in all of
this world's
insanity

My bedrock
foundation
in a land
full of
quicksand

My hydration
when my
lips were
parched and
my throat
was dry

My very
best friend
that I could
talk about
anything with

You had
all of the
answers like
a Jeopardy
champion

Now... ..
I labor to
find all of
the answers
myself
because
I trust no one
else and... ..

there is no
replacing you
Dad

Many say
how much
that I look
like you and
sound like you
but,

I can't be you
because,
there is only
one you

David misses
you... ..

Ciao ciao for now
until our
saddened eyes
do meet again,
until we both
regain our
infectious
smiles... ..

I
Will
Endure




written by me... ..

joy and laughter?

they seem to be lost forever in an urn full of ashes

his daily evidence of this?

empty liquor bottle after empty liquor bottle he releases from his numb hand to drop,
crash and left to mingle on the floor with the others

one's death has inspired another's death

ebon spirits beg for his soul

"drink up you wretched soul" they beg

"we await your tortured soul so that we can,
torture it some more"

upon his death,

joy and laughter died and turned every day into endless night

the shadows never leave

their abundance
now comforts him as his only company... ..
'friends'

"drink up"!

the destination
is a culmination
of a life full of great stories,
a life full of everyday worries

a destination can be a sanctuary,
it can be a punishment unnecessary

destinations can be final
and for that there is no denial

Index finger laying across tightly pressed lips as I drive down the Boulevard.

I watch the fluffy cotton fall down to the earth.

Snow globe picturesque we are shaken once more.

No complaints from me I mumble to myself.

Once again my eyes, my heart and my soul are afforded life's beauty.

As her
voice of
jealous
raging
cracked;

thus did
my heart.


written by me... ..

People,
always seem
to leave
too soon.

While;

Feelings,
and emotions
remain
too long.


written by me... ..

*** is a mere spasm that vibrates the bed

While making love is an earthquake that shakes the entire world


written by me... ..

Forty years
ago
she handed me
a folded note
with her
signature perfume
drenched in it
and a
SWAK... ..
a
Sealed with
a kiss
set of
gorgeous lips
on the
outside of my
folded note.
Her phone #
written in
cherry red
lipstick... ..
and
'call me sometime'
written
beneath it.

I did,
I did call her.

Not only have I
never forgotten
that note
but... ..
I have never
forgotten
her scent
that only she would leave
down
our
High school
hallways.

I keep that
folded note
in a
special place
just for me.

And when
I take it
out of its
protective
sleeve?
I would swear
that... ..
I am back
in the
80's again.

And Raffinee
perfume
was hot
and all the craze
once again.



written by me... ..

Follow me,
in your
naked feet
under
the stars
to our
favorite place.

Follow me,
and
let's wish
upon a star
that tonight
will
never end.

Follow me,
and
let us
sensually
make love
under the
talcum powdered
full moon.

Follow me,
and
let us unleash
the wolf
in us,
and howl
as deeply
intertwined
lovers
at the moon.

Follow me,

follow me
to the place
where we
become one
and
make love,
over and
over again.



written by me... ..

your ignorance,
it
tripped in front of me ... ..

it fell down

i stepped on it like i didn't notice it

"ignorantly",
i then kicked it down the gutter

where all of the ignorant live

hope you enjoy your home....

in the gutter of ignorant bliss

you ignorant
*******

Summer sand,
just as hot as the woman before me,
cool my desire with a walk by the sea.

Waves caress and ****** the beach,
your body aches, within my arms reach.

My body quivers and trembles from your touch,
this moment with you,
it means oh so much.

A gentle nibble of your honey soaked lips,
the next wave in unison is now both our hips.

A blanket of cotton embedded under our nails,
our love on the sand as the night hears our wails.

Some passers by thought a storm was a brewing,
it was just you and I and the love we were doing.

Your eyes,
they say hold me now and forever
and
never let you go, this night will always keep us together....
forever.




written by me... ..

Forever flawed

    I am

     Forever flawed

    My fleece is soiled - ***** unlike the Lamb

             My feet don't walk upon water

           The blind I can not make see

        I'm just a man, a father

  Growing each day like a mighty oak tree

                    Yes I am flawed, yes

      Whilst I may be soiled of sin

           Indiscretions many I confess

I simply pray to not visit those again

         Sure, I'll trip on sin every once and again

                               But....

              Jesus understands the places that I've been

                    He knows my heart is pure

   My flaws are many, but with Jesus I endure

         Wounds are made to heal

              Scars are meant to last

  My imperfectness is a done deal

                   But forward I look without forgetting my past