Inclination of a verse that sways upon
lips exhales, does a fatigued motion
really venture into realization of empathy.

Coalescing upon a rhyme that sways with
sentiment of a ill conceived persecution.
Attachment of a vessel  that keeps a tempo.

Could a ***** that motivates the motivation
of life collect feeling within its beating to coincide
with the thoughts of chemical reactions in the brain

"My Heart Is Love,
                   "Like my mind is thought,

*"Each a feeling that ties my feelings to you,

We can call it today or last week
or seek out another name,
but who loved me in the Bleak?

I ain't talking midwinter nor
the middle of summer
I'm talking back then and
that's the backchat of sad men

these be the lonely
only when will they know?

before it's too late?

I am in denial
Something to do with the
pineal gland?

Fukin grand when you've no idea
if your brain's in your head
or stuffed up your rear.

hitched me a ride on the right side of
the ebb tide
things are looking
better now.

You are as gorgeous as the Saint of Love
Thy mouth is the distillery of immortal gifts
Thy spirit bonny, beau as turtle dove
Pouring down treasures from the rift
Of thy mind's heaven, a paradise
A kingdom to me and treasure is
One peep in to its climes suffice
To foster deepest passions bliss
I quail and cry in the knowledge
That you hold me in low esteem
I exit passions magnificent stage
Ashamed for what I feel and dream
    O I had been uncynical
    But they gloated to see me fall

It was a restless night denuded of sleep
So since it was warm and windless
I hit the streets

Walking under ancient oaks draped in Spanish moss
My path inevitably led to where
Everything was at a complete loss

Crescent Moon Memorial Cemetery
For the dead
Where all lie below earthly care
Was where my feet had somehow led

Row upon row of forgotten names
In all of their endeavors
Have been eased of their earthly pains

And now as I trudged by at a quarter to three
A low chorus and chords of music
Through the mists came floating to me

It startled and intrigued
What now is this ?
So I had to go see for myself
And I silently crept to where came the origins of bliss

In a circle of bench seats and monument stones
The strangest thing I saw , that of the unborn
Ghosts and skeletons playing with bones and singing in moans

A see through piano , trombone , bass , saxophone and a silver cornet
And one wailing guitar completed the set

On the translucent petal bass drum
Was the name of the ethereal band
And to a catchy tune I began to hum

Crescent Moon Memorial Buried Blues Band
The epitaph on the vaporous drum stated
And I soon found myself a loyal fan

What seem like a lifetime they continued to play
Quaint rthyms and lyrics now made my day . . . and night !
As the sounds drifted across the river out onto the bay

But far off I heard the mornings ****'s call
Then phiff . . . vanished all into the fog
Not a trace as if covered by an invisible pall

And then a ray caught the gleam in my eye
And I knew that when the time comes
Here's where I want to be placed after I die

the stillness
of this innocent gloom

of the lanterns silently gazing at the open field, wet,
swaying
as the slow evening whispers, sighs
waiting for the sky to fall back into the sea

I'm sitting here
on the wet wooden stairway
and thinking of you

Make my life a hollow reed
That will bend now in stormy breeze
For in numbers I find my strength
Beneath the willow tree

Make my life like the rock
Piled high upon , top to top
A stonewall that runs for miles
Around my lands it stands

Make my life short and sweet
Give me peace not dire defeat
Give me love and woman's sigh
Amidst the clovered fields

Make my life a Godly song
One that knows right from wrong
With wisdon as old as stars
I'll dance inside the fire

Make my life to unfold
I am tired , my shoes have holes
My dreams are seeds cast to the wind
And just the husk remains

Make my life now come to end
It's my time to propend
I'll walk among the ghost's remains
And willingly I quote

Hollow reeds will bend not break
Holow reeds will not forsake
Of hollow reeds my death bed make
And lie amongst the stars

Cardboard City
land of broken dreams
life on the pavement
existence of extremes

lost my job , my home , my wife
No end in sight of my pitiful life

Down on my luck my life's a mess
living outside as outdoors  guest

A kindly gent puts a fiver in my palm
below freezing tonight
so it's
McDonald's coffee and a lip balm

So if you see me asleep on the side of the road
I sleep here because I have

No Fixed abode

thank you

Canoodle away the daze.
Low productivity remains
sadly underpaid.
Dreams do not demand
To Do lists. As yet,
love requires no app.
Perhaps the world is dying
but green, green patches
remain in the shade.
Find a tree, see.
Take your love’s head
in your lap. Be glad
of time and hugs.
Glorify in achieving
that most perfect goal:
no goal at all.
Or one perfect kiss.
Clarity radiates from
exactly where you sit.
You can’t step in that
same stream even once.
Don’t try. Keep your lips
happy and your feet dry.