On the wet sidewalk worms are aplenty.
A bird's eye ogles the wiggling squirmers.
Cars swooshing by on the Boulevard.
The powder colored sky gently weeps.
Roads that look freshly painted.
Tree bark that appears to have been glazed.
It's a rainy Saturday morning.
A great time for a walk.

tie
   your
      troubles
        to
          helium
            balloons
              and
                let
                  them
                     go

I'm just a poet of circumstance.

I'm simply a poet of happenstance.

Years of sharing myself with only me.

Years of just wanting to at long last be free.

I may not be the poet that you asked for.

But I may be the poet that you now need at everyday's door.

It was dark

But,
she didn't ask me
to plug the light in

Rather,
she asked me to
plug myself into her

We lit that room
up with fire

trying to tie my shoes,
clumsily,
not able to work out the logic of it, fumbling,
as my father stands there

his anger growing over a son who can’t even do
this simplest thing for the first time

can’t even manage
the knot to keep his shoes on

you think someone’s
going to tie your shoes for you the rest of your life?

no, i answer, forty-five years later, tying my shoe,
hands trembling with this memory

my father and all those years of childhood
not being able to work out how he loved me....
a knot so tight it has taken all my life
to untie

She wanted the world

So I gave her, 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.

My love, I adore when your jeweled eyes
captivate every fiber of my being

When your perfect lips whisper words that only I can hear from miles away

When your slightest touch brings me to volcanic eruptions with lava overflowing

My love, you are a steady stream of sweaty summer nights that I hoped would never end

You are ...my love

You are my sunrise
You are my sunset

You are the sparkle that lives inside my eyes

a kiss
without
the hug
is like
the flower
without
the fragrance

For years
    I have longed
       for you.
Your lips
     your touch
        your love.
Every passing day
      my wanting
         for you
           only grew.
As the sun sets
       on the stars
         tonight
            i wish,
for you to be
        delivered
           to me
            from above.
And at long last
          I can share
            my burning
       love
               for you.

I wondered about, wondering -

and then,

I wondered some more -

Is death, death -

Or is death, birth -

Do birds fly only because they have wings -

Or do birds fly because Jesus is beneath their wings, or both-

Is tomorrow the first of never -

Or is tomorrow the first of forever -

Do words slay giants like a keen sword -

Or are words as mighty as the pen that brings them to life -

Or the mind that never stops wondering about them -

I wonder -

And, I will never
stop wondering -

when the
  full figured

green/ blue eyed brunette walks in?

my mind becomes
    overloaded

with sin


  they are 100% my kryptonite

   Mmmm mmm mmm... i wanna tak a bite

     i wanna take my time and...

make us both feel,

    alright

If I were to be cut ?

Poetic words would my blood spill/spell out.

This day,
This day will perish too

But hopefully,
hopefully today
you grew

Water me,
water me
I'm a seed
in the sun

Tomorrow
is evidence that
my growing
will never
be done

Women;

              they

      have

              always



         flocked


   to


           me

      like



    a

           flock


of


          seagulls

so,

when we finally get together

i am going to need hours with you
because,

there are parts of you that i know that i am going to want to linger in longer than others

and after we at long last become one,

and our bodies lie limp from passion's exhaustion...

i want to fall asleep with my ***** inside of you

so that when we awaken and your hips begin to gyrate once again,

those unforgettable hours can begin to be repeated all over again

So;

phew... ..

after skatey eight
rounds of chemo
and radiation that
has burned me worse than any encounter with the sun ever could.....?

Thousands of dollars wasted
and debt
while making my
remaining days
on this Earth
an excruciating
24/7 theatre of
unnecessary,
expensive pain!

And after all of this?

I have "Dr." Chen with absolutely no bedside manner
'matter of factly'
tell me that... ..
"we can not do anymore to help you".

Okay;
I get it, I am dying and I can handle that,
and I knew that but... ..

Help me?!?!?!

You didn't "help me" you... ..
you
greedy,
selfish,
ignorant,
POS
devil you.

But hey;
guess what?

Sure, I will concede my death
is near.

Thanks to you and your high priced concoction of death,
my death has
only been
accelerated.

But me?

My life,
my life is only beginning once
I leave this den of iniquity and
you... ..
"Dr satan".

While you?

Ha.
Haha!

You?

You will be burning in a hell like you have never seen on this Earth.

Every day....
Every hour
Every minute
Every second
of your
'after life'.

And me?

I will be chatting it up with Jesus
and asking for your forgiveness
because well... ..

that's my
beautiful soul
and heart
looking out
for vultures
like you.

Poets are never ending romantacists on a moonstruck Caribbean beach with ambiantic waves kissing a star soaked horizon

Poets are flames that flicker from a lover's breath and that whispers their name under candlelight sight and forever's caress

Poets are also earthquakes, hurricanes and tornados because we yearn for great storms in life to write

Poets are the artists that create pictures with words that trace your lips and tense your body with climactic fantasies

We poets are song writers in 5 minutes notice, greeting card and love letter writers

We poets are what many crave to be or yearn to be with.

Because, once you're with a poet you aren't ever going back!

Late fall when leaves have left their summer homes just to lay helpless on the cold wet earth.

Some lay together in bunches in corners, while others have a space all of their own.

Some drift along a rippled water's surface being pushed far away by autumn's northeasterly winds.

Their magnificent colors are all but ignored now.

The swooshing- rattling-crackling sounds as a gentle breeze blew through their once summer home is now a distant memory.

A memory not for the leaf you understand, but for the viewer that has valued the leaf's existence.

Appreciated its every movement and sound,
sang its praise for shade against the harsh summer sun.

Even its very last movement, falling to the earth helplessly, gracefully,
only now to be walked upon by those that never noticed them in the first place.

These leaves, they share no animosity nor disappointment in those that never look upon them.

They only feel sorry for them.

But, next season after the cold winter's night has passed,
the leaves will be back once again in their full vibrant glory, living on their summer homes,
providing camouflage for a bird's nest buried deep inside,
providing shade and shelter even to those that choose to ignore all of which they are.

Only to "Fall" and "leave" us once more,
just to do it all over again and to hopefully acquire a new fan or two.

society and
most people
  in general
    disappoint me.

it's not their fault,
    well,
      mostly not.

the way some
   treat animals,
      other humans,
and
        just how they
disrespect life....
    other than their own
      of course.

i don't ****
   ants...
     spiders...
flies...
   i don't hurt anything
and i...
   i have a difficult time
in understanding those
     that can.

as i said.
   it's not your fault,
well, mostly not.

  i just expect more
     from humans that
on the outside at least,
      appear to be like me.

but i guess
   that's why our insides
are....
       our insides.
they are like
  a secret.

    for some....
a very ugly secret.

As the grey,
envelops the sky.

I reminisce of rain
and the sadness of why.

Why life couldn't be as endless as the sky.

Why life, like grey skies seem to just whistle on by.