Sometimes when unsure souls are apart, hearts go dark,
finding bitter-sweet sorrow in the depart.
Unconsciously staying far away from "them and they" who filled and smashed then cast away our jars from back then to present day.
In all despite,
in a moment of might,
You walk into my sight,
Suspending the win of "them and their" sins.
It's effortless for me to give in,
the chase begins again.
In spite, it doesn't feel like a chase,
it just feels right.

Smile so sweet,
our eyes meet,
it's like a lightning strike...head to feet.
Hits me like a glowing, white hot flash of tingling electricity,
blinding bright,
striking right down from the heavens like a craggily branch of pure flowing energy piercing my heart and soul,
then surging through every electrical current-driven nerve cell my body holds.
I magnetize to the earth, unable to move, frozen in time…
Grounded as thunder following clasps in the distance.

Staring at your sparking seducing silhouette,
then hips,
then lips,
then surmising eyes,
then smile advancing pace towards me in the street.
A rare chance for us to meet.
The same Lightning strikes twice.
I feel the tingle spiring up to my face,
the sly and subtle serendipity strike setting the pace, the time, the place.


My fears are flushed,
I feel heat blush,
I wish you to rush.
Race,
closer to touch.
The instant innocent "Crush" is much.

You enter my personal space,
Smiling a mile wide.
You close in until my place is touched and encased by your hair softly falling around your eyes and face.  
Lightning strikes thrice.
I sense my helpless demise as my heart takes the stage,
Opening night,
Act one,
Scene one,
Cue the thunder.
Will I be undone in this serendipitous theater of surprise or hearts unwon?

Dropped from the highest point,
the largest stone smashes down and holds back all that once made me feel alone.
My soul runs unto to your connection,
our necks connect.
I smell your skin's convection.
Time alignment correction.
The earth is shifted.
My eyes naturally close as I fold into you.
My natural emotion is selected as I hold on to you.
all sounds drown,
our heads tilt down in concert,
seredipty conducts,
a symphony erupts into minutes as though everything I want goes through yourself.
So subtle is the soul-to-soul magnetism adherence, a transference beyond appearance.
Anticipating thunder,
the next minute of our meeting begins.

By R. Craig David-Copyright 2017

Death of another hero
In a whiteout landscape
On the edge of the world
Across the lake, the wind rips
Like a lash across the face
Pillars of black-smoke soot
January in this Seventh Wonder
Desolate

They are falling fast, too fast
So fast
In this so-far cruelest month
Seemingly from nowhere, and
Without reason

The man on the corner with a sign that reads
One Love
Wrinkled and craggily
With winter oozing from his nose
Lord you know it’s the freaks
Who make the world
Spin round
Even after
the eagle lands, and
The airplane crashes
and the spaceman
falls

We are on the same road
Headed in opposite directions
Wheels turning, going nowhere
Fast
How maddening it is that
We can’t
Get this
right

Pieces are missing
Others don’t fit
So much for the payoff you expected
We are all suckers on some level
We are dogs
Sheep
Fools misled
Lemmings being led
off a ledge
Somewhere there must be someone
Laughing

This is the day of your extraction
Do you remember when
we made
The paint melt off the walls
Like God moving Heaven and Earth
Until you decided
The wind no longer blew
And the sun no longer rose

This evening I woke up knowing
The years past went by
As quickly as the decade ahead
Time is a thief
and all of us are
Stark-raving mad.

Outdoor couches adorn
Wrap around porch houses
Where old folks sit
In felted feathers and morning sweat
The street is a stage
To watch the world, unfurl before them

Abandoned houses with “stop work” plaques
Sit like ghost village shacks
Dangling electrical wires
Swinging like forest vines
In this concrete jungle

Nocturnal Co2 emissions
Mosquitoes on reconnaissance missions
To **** your jugular
To shed the blood of the covenant
Payback for the horrors in history
In the American South

This is Atlanta

An old woman hobbles
Down the craggily sidewalk
Long, gray dreads like Voodoo
“ali ali wei boomah!!!”
She hisses as you walk by
Leaving you wondering if she
Just placed a curse on your life
But you just keep walkin’ on

As if you weren’t cursed
As if each step
Each drop of sweat
Weren’t planning their revenge

This is Atlanta