Eyes peel open    -        
my nostrils tingle -
as the smells of soil and sweat
                          permeate the air.

The heat and humidity is unbearable    -
breathing shallow -
            movement restricted.

I only wish to wipe the sleep
from my eyes -
who would prevent me      -      
              such a simple request?

Anxiety billows for                
a brief moment      -
surrendering complacently -
as the frequency of
my rising chest
                                    slows.

I sense my sightless eyes
dimming                                -
resting shut -

I am so tired...
                    over the fence they go -
one  -
           two.        -
three...
                  their fleece as white as snow.

i am a flower in bloom.

uniquely grown,
with unique characteristics.

make no mistake.

i can bloom without you!

by myself, alone,
this can happen,
it can indeed.

i am fully capable of watering myself with help from nary a soul.

in today's world,
you really are better off.

i mean....

who would you trust,
trust to water you everyday anyway?

cinnamon
apple pie
pumpkin spice
burning wood
and love
are the essences
carried within
every
Autumn's wind.

don't be shy
to,
dig in.

your **** hues,
they leave me
short of
breath

you are
thee one that
I will never
forget

gone missing:


last seen
running
from
myself,

thanks to
having to
deal with
today's
society.

society
grooms us
to be
folks that
we aren't.

that's why i....
run from
them,

i know
who i am.

i am
a poet
with deep
intrusive
wounds
that need not
society's knife
to plunge
any deeper
into my
soul.

vital organs
deep
already.

Fingers

     fingered

        fine

          finality

Rolling eyes that hide the wounds

A stranger to one self,
complete with stalking shadows and masks of masquerade

Salty tears invade the scars,
burning these painful moments,
prevent the proper healing.

A numbing blank stare arrives,
as cold as a murderer's heart,
my eyes now blind to beauty.

The path ahead is quicksand,
each step an exhaustive journey

Fragmented I may be, but quitting is not inside me.

the lights
  are going up,
the decorations
   too for my
grandson.

if not
  for him
i wouldn't
   even bother,
my life's light
  has been dead
since i lost
  my own father.

i'd love to
  thank his
mother for
  giving me,
a light of life
  for me - all
sparkly and
   Caleby.

without him,
     i'm not sure
   where i would
be in my life,
   but with him...
i get to put up
  christmas lights.

thank you for
  my everyday
gift and
christmas lights,

because;

   for him...
every day of
  my life.. .
i will fight.

'Yours and everyone's concrete-poet'

and
now...
the end
of
another
year.

another
year
in the
'proverbial'
rear-view
mirror.

they
come
and go
now-
for me
without
much
care.

another'new year'
looking
at me-
just
standing
there.

resolutions
made
by many
that
are
regurgitated
clichès
spoken
by
bottles of
liquor
and beer.

literally
uttered
in pubs
and
bars...
here
there,
everywhere.

but
yes,
i guess..

it
once
again
will
be
a
"new year".

and
once
again
by
midnight-

i'll
be
nestled
in bed
good
and tight-

just
like
any other
night
with
a smile
of
great
delight.

forgetting
the
world
and its
menacing,
regrettable
dark
light,

putting
it out
of mind
and
sight...

until
first
awakened
breath
at.....

daybreak's
first
light.

Above the canvas a stuttered quill.
A mind sits thinking, not overflowing just full.

So many thoughts,
so much to write.
So many emotions I always have to fight.

I'll take a deep breath and then think for a while.
My aim will be happiness and to give you a smile.

I write my poems for both far and wide.
I open my heart for you all to peek inside.

Then when my quill, I lay finally to rest.
My peers and my lovers will be my final test.

making love in the rain

thank God for the rain, that puts out the fire


'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
-👷🏻‍♂️-

depth appears
to be elusive
en masse.
shallowness is abundant like weeds in the grass.
beneath the
Pacific ocean
is 'Challenger Deep'.
the deepest of
all deep waters
at 36,200 feet.
and then you have the sea of Azov at less than
3 feet which could never refresh a wanting soul,
in a sultry summer's heat.
depth is mysteriously different,
filled with
hold your breath unknowns and
butterfly intrigue.
listen to depth's secrets as it crashes against the shoreline.
depth has so much to say
in so little time.
the shallows have no ability nor care to hear depth opine.
they stand in a puddle,
on surfaces
they dine.
dare to breach
depth's surface
and be fully ready to sink.
depth and substance are
the two most exquisite qualities,
be it in
a person
or a poem
in ink.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏻‍♂️

when our
  
  marriage

ended with

    2 children

when we

    ourselves were

just children?

    my life

    also

ended.

My heart raced -

until I left your bed.

You made mention of it.

You're a heart attack -

for someone unathletic.

I am such a
  tortured soul.
More than
  anyone will
ever know.
   My heart
weeps every
   moment like
it is
    its job.
Leaving this
  earth is
the only time
  it will stop.
My thoughts
  are always
     stolen by
my heart.
   My heart
has controlled
  me right....

from the
    very start.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️

I feel your lips on my shoulder

I quiver , you tremble

not sure I can take you getting any closer.

The warmth of your breath in my ear

a whisper of love
butterflies in mass, together as one may be near.

Effortlessly my hands glide through your curves

as
we climb the mountain together

the moment has taken us to a crescendo of nerves.

The summit , now in full view

the sun, it glistens from the sweat of our bodies

we are now one, no longer are we two.

The loving wipe of a brow

eyes that tell the story

a fulfilled smile , a deep breath

.....wow.

i literally
  write poetry
that people
   are so proud
to put up
   as memes
you understand?

i guess that
  memes are for
shorter,
    i want it now
  attention spans?

with me?
  you will
never get
   it now!

anticipation
  and foreplay
with words
  is who i am,
my vow.

there's
  absolutely
no fun
  in what
comes easy.

what's best
  is the thrill
of the chase
  and some
  lip licking
teasing.

As one wave crashes up against another

       it reminds me of what takes place between two very passionate lovers

         out of breath after colliding underneath the waves... the covers.

that cloud,
  right there.

the one
that always
drifts away
  from others
and their
  mundane
    colors and
rituals.

that cloud
  right there
doesn't mimic
  the tired old
zombietic lines;

merry Christmas
happy birthday
happy new year
blah blah blah
and blaaaaah.

why?
  
right there,
   that cloud
is not a zombie.

it's beyond
  bored of
triviality and
  predictability.

  the more
that cloud,
  right there,

exists in
the sky,

   the more that
it wants to
   drift away from
the ones that
  all look the same.

i don't wish to
  cover up
the warmth
   of the sun but,

then again,
  i don't ever
get a chance to
   because....

the clouds that
  all look and
sound the same,
have blocked
  the sun from
shining on me
  for my entire
existence.

  that cloud,
right there?

 it holds
    torrential
rains...

it holds a
     billowing
   storm
  with his name.

hopefully,
  it won't downpour
years of thunder
  and lightning
over you.

that cloud,
  right there
is me.

that one cloud
   in an otherwise
cloudless sky.

the crow,
as black as
the ink
in newspapers
of yore...

rests on
a mountain
of white snow
along side
the
busy,
oft'
traveled
highway
of route #66.

as the
crow spreads
its wings
and
takes
flight,

for a few
moments
i live in
an old school
world
of only
black
and white.

Everyone is out here just trying to live their life

The ups the downs and how at times life cuts like a knife

The homeless are forgotten while the wealthy are cheered

Left to die in a bus shelter, alone with their frozen tears

I feel genuine sorrow and pain for the way that man felt he deserved to die

I can't ever imagine what he said in his last words as he shivered and looked up towards the sky

All that I know is when I first heard this story, I broke down and cried

But now he is wrapped in Heaven's warmth and by Jesus has been glorified

The pain of his earthly body and mind is forever no more

For now...
now he sleeps in a place with no more doors or frigid floors

Sleep warm tonight my friend

No more frozen tears for you tend

i have
  longed
to fill
  your
v()id
  not
for
   moments
but for
      .......
   hours


'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️

lights begin
to fade-
battery life
in end
stage wane.

the black asphalt
sky-
with nary a star
to say
good bye.

perfect silence
without the
sound of time-
surroundings
are mute as
they mimic
a lifeless mime.

clouds roll in
and the rain
masks your
tears-
death has
come once again
and it now seems
to be in
high gear.

pick up
that rose and
take a deep
breath-
the essence
of life can
abruptly
change to
death.

Christmas will come and Christmas will go-
as years pass...
the empty
place settings
at the table
continue
to grow.

in a blink
it's all over
and done-
soon at that
table not
a face....
not one.

Like a bullet
life travels
in haste-
so try not
to waste
but savor...
each day's
uniqueness
and taste.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️

Against the midnight sky the red rose dripped
their passion's
****** in panting breath.

A bouquet of love
with raw and rare emotions clinging to the humid air.

A droplet of moonlight seemed to caress her lips that I have longed to engage.

Long and hard I kissed her again, the midnight sky's red rose.

Her petals could make the softest of velvet jealous.

Her essence,
I never want to wash away from memory.

Your
football team
is not
going to
win today because;

-"it's your birthday"

-it's your "anniversary"

-you're dying

-you "prayed"

-you had a slamming night of ***

-you didn't step on any cracks in the sidewalk

-you wore a certain shirt or some other stupid article of clothing

I'll tell you straight.


If your
football team wins?

They
will win
because they played better
than the
other football team did!

Sports fans...🙄

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️

You touch me
without using
your hands.

You touch me
without saying
a single word.

You touch me
as if
you were the wind.

You touch me
like rain
as it falls
down my cheeks,
like a
snowflake
that lands
on my
eyelashes.

You touch me
like the sun,
a perfect
sunny and 75.

You touch me
without being here,
without me
seeing you.

You touch me
and,
my heart
feels you...
my soul seems
wrapped
around you.

You touch me
every morning,
every evening,
every way,
every day,
to let me know
that you...
and everything
will be
okay.

in the wee
hours of a
july's
summer morn

congestive
heart failure
and it's
life changing
affects
were born.

my icu room
bustles with
panic
and worry

doctors and
nurses can
be heard
"Stat" -
let's hurry!

"it didn't
work"
as they
collectively
gasp in
a chain

"the right
side of his
neck,
look at his
distended
jugular vein"!

"nothing
has worked
and we've
tried
every med"

"all that
is left
is to
shock him-
fingers crossed
he doesn't
end up
dead".

"please sign
these papers
David, it's
all that we
have left
to save you"

"you need
to sign this
just in case
you die,
we want to
make sure
you don't
sue".

"we're
going to
put you
to sleep now-
so go ahead
and take
one
last breath"

"this sleep
may be
permanent-
this july
summer morn,
well..
it may be
your death".

i calmly
laid back
as they
put me
to sleep

no fear
and
no worries-
my own death
i didn't
even weep!

death did
not scare
me as i
faded
to black

i said
my goodbyes
without
one single
care if
i'd ever
be back!

you see,
this world
and its
denizens
scare me
more than
actual
death.

a smile
on my face
will be
evident upon
this man's
last breath.

the liars
the backstabbers
the fake
people in
this life

they all
come
equipped,
equipped
with a
knife.

so...

if i had
died
in july-
i wouldn't
have missed
much

just our
earthly
relationship-
we would
have lost
touch.

i just
about died
and the
few that
have
reached out

i now know
who's who-
and of that
there is
absolutely
no doubt!

my life
expectancy
is not that
of yours.

end stage
congestive
heart failure
had future
years close
their
own doors.

it is
what
it is-
you
are you
and i
am i

and
eventually
i'll tell ya....

we're all
going
to die.

'Yours and everyone's concrete poet'
👷🏿‍♂️👷🏻‍♂️

I may not have ever been your first choice but
let me tell ya,
I would be honored and intensely love....
to be
your last choice
in this 24 hour cycle of days that we call life.

cancer,

it
kills more
than
one
person
at a
time