Love is the greatest force of all mankind...
of all cosmos, of all movement
of all that is wild and deranged
held safe in a locket, clandestine,
casually singing reigning from clouds of rain
sonnets of seismic sound sway trees
encouraging sodded fields grow greener than yesterday
yet sprightly and anew
soon
nudging the node
of the naysayers neighing,
bulging out their blue button ups
cramping, beastly belly's brooding to feast
on the blooming young,
the callow of a courageous continuum
trooping along gaily with gallantry
on trails, heralding gnarled roots

but this is rhythm
and rhythm is rhyme
and rhyme reconciles reasoning
"i love you for no other reason
but i love you"
says the tales of two
seeking singularity,
soaking in the sauna of one,
sovereign sun.

Your Primrose blossomed in the Spring
frothy petals in the light flared
a brilliant hue your season to groom
I stitched a garland to pair
my green blades with your orbit,
blushing from your radiant glare
a satellite garnishing stray beams
My doting shadow, enfiladed
by the waxy glow of your stems,
entrenched around your lurid stalk
Vassal bands nestled below as
the sultry air bore your fragrance
to the tips of each driveling strand


Growing in your rendered space
light years from your radiant estate
milk weeds fawned at your feet,
but my encroaching shadow
and twining sickles
could not seal your comely face
In just a few days, the light
from your bright candle
flittered its last beam
your silky cheeks folded,
not from winter's cold stare
or the wind's shaking reins
Unencumbered by my embrace,
without flair or aplomb,
you cast your gilded parasol
to its shallow, un-dug grave
A decaying, still life brand
now shrouded my sodded feet

Tweeting thrushes twittering
Above our heads,
A certain thickness about the air
Which fills my lungs with ***** matter.
The heavens opening, scarring my scaled skin.
You talking.

Tulips
Fresh from a plot of
Lazily potted plants,
The stench garrotting me as I walk past,
And just as I do, you appear,
Talking.

I'm at best when I'm resting.
Stop pressing me I need this serenity,
This blank papyrus and
Sea sodded swimwear.
My only memento of you.
Stop talking.

You and I, You and I, You and I,
They said.
Why must they lie and ignore
Your tentative gaze?
My harboured farcical thoughts
Encroaching my mind,
Slowly metastasising through the hollow mould
Which is my body.

The noose lies still on the white-wash table.

We are together again.
Our  names imprinted on a boulder of soft, cold granite,
And beneath the dead tulips
And the heavy mud,
We stop talking.

I thought this park would stay the same
since I first set foot in its early green,
when it was new.  I didn’t know its name.  

Now the baseball diamond’s seen its last game.
They sodded the basepaths and took out the screen.
A field without a backstop just isn't the same.

The stone fountain sits dry in its frame
of red cement.  Once water gurgled clean,
and tasted new like a secret name.

This sloping dirt path was how I came
Home from school.  It was paved by a machine
When I thought this park would stay the same.

The box elder with the split trunk’s now maimed.
Half of it’s gone. I used to hide between
Its arms. It gave refuge I could not name.

Yet the vision of a place time can’t claim--
Spared in a quiet corner, unseen--
Persists.  So I dream this park stayed the same,
Though now it no longer remembers my name.

Verdant epidermis
rolling silk
farther than eyes
Veritable smorgasbord
twice removed
Coastal pull has
stretched you
bled you dry
forgotten plains
Do you still keep secrets
and give away bread?
Do you still keep God company?
Vested sustenance
true as earth
impervious to time
Velvet sodded canvas
I am moved

A soft, imploring cry
peels from far and wide
from the silted lives of
mercenaries and conscripts,
the coagulated blood of still lifes
leached from stented veins
and strained for national pride

A quiet, solemn echo
bounces off re-sodded hills
and re-capped mountains
of voices muted in their prime
so that indentured revelers
might joyfully trumpet
an unrequited melody
of garnished freedom
and varnished liberty

The curdling wind plays taps
to the itinerant bones
on reefs and ocean bottoms
now hollowed by corrosive waves
of land-faring vagabonds who
continuously pare their calcified genes

Bottled tears that will never drain
remain untapped on distant shores
as their pilfering descendants
salt the museums and memorials
with their gratuitous patronage

She cradled the soil in her arms and rocked, nursing the sodded ground.

Not that you can see but I carry my feet in my soul
and wait cold for my ride, stare into space while blank-eye strays.
Leaning closer, you swing away
You move me

watchful there, remove my clothes, idle and naked,
to steep in the tea water-it makes my skin-and
eyes and nose and ears close.
I feel the ceiling sop up my bones,
smarmy murmurs flood my nostrils.
I wanna be deep down beneath it
so I slip and sink below cement
nourish weeds and grass
vines that cling to my backside.
I drive my bones home and leave it out to dry

At home I sit and into cups I shout:
Feed me brother
Lick my teeth, I can't bite
But I can see, so show me you
who tied a knot so heavy in my shoulders