inserted into the nonstop day
at a time and place of relinquishing sleep
where no alarm wakes the dead from deep slumbering
I rise, half crawl, roll out of bed, a resurrection slowly invading my skin
my bones jump into place as I rattle toward the light and out the door
to stagger into life one more time, one more time I tell myself
for to be sure tomorrow for you may well never arrive and you may well find yourself in the valley of the dead, the valley of the dead, the valley of the dead.

I have tried.
I have tried to live like I really should live, I know what it is that I like.
I have lied.
I have never really tried.
I have only always wished, for trying requires courage that I don't have.
I am not lying.
I have known fear in ways it doesn't remain just a feeling:
I have felt it shooting up my spine
I have held my fingers to stop them from shaking and I have, at times, simply collapsed
Collapsed on the floor because my legs wouldn't want to carry my weight anymore.
So I have wanted, and I have tried, and I have wished for it to get better
But it only ever becomes a tad bit shade of 'fine',
And I can't compromise.
I have tried.

chemistry
geometry
satellite love


smell of the Earth
curves of the Moon
fire of the Sun

Some are beautiful
some are smart, clever, refined..
but you I love most.

Peering through the curtains
Leering at my *****
Boy next door uncertain
Eyes find mine and join

Breath upon the window
Death in cerebral find
Wanting willing syndrome
How we like in kind

Innocence is further lost
An instance unforgotten
Once shared, soon be tossed
Our friendship misbegotten

A-Ooga Tioga
Sky, mountain and mist rise

with morning breath
It’s crisp until coffee goes in
but no bother for that
instead, searching for sun, kept out of sight
figuring which way is east
Which way is yonder?
still, more you might ponder

As you sink into the lap of Tioga valleys
cradled by ash and oaks
fields of daisy mixed with rye and wheat
spread at your feet
like  wedding dress of Mother Nature herself

She says softly:

“Pssst, hey you
Don’t put on those shoes
tiptoe way across my seedy crinolines
lie upon me
Sink in insubstantiality with me
as I draw
rays and beams, beyond
some twenty rolling hills

In our for all future time horizon
you may still be dreaming
indulge yourself in my verdant fantasies
**** up this morning with me

This is Appalachian reverie
hear me like little turkey gobbling
dance with doe and fawn
chase jackrabbit
round and round
Why, even the silos are singing
“Pour me a cup” ”