Hear the secrets of the runaway train
Whistle smoking see me choking
On black clouds of misery
The nineties gave me
Nothing but pain
Tried to laugh
But the tears kept falling
And there was no love angel calling

Smokestacks blast billows of hurt
Watch wet stains on the pillow
Thought someday I would grow out of it
But fifteen year later I am still feeling it

Adolescence was a hell of a journey
Wounded spirit resting on
The illusion of a spiritual gurney
Tourniquet lies to stop the bleeding
As the train keeps running over me

Steel track with steel stakes in the ground
Blood soak broken howling in the rain
Train never stops keeps rolling over me
Smashed corpses with a mangled face
Metal monster makes a monstrosity of me

Runaway train of emotions are dulled
No heart beating now it’s bleeding on the floor
One more strange suicide trip
Just took me a lot longer than I thought
To finally get to it

The black spasmodic
Deranged and hypnotic
Silent sparkling star lit
Cool night time sunshine
Man I want it
The eerie iridescent light show
Beckoning us for a reckoning
Of the infinitesimal
Infestation
We call the human race

What makes a good soldier
I’ve never been to the battlefield
And if I can I still never will
But I am curious how you define
What honor is

When questioning in the time
Of war is treason
And the battle seasoned
Veterans will blast you in the head

The best qualities I quest for
Will get you shot in the heat of war
And instead of doing what’s right
By being a good human being
You have to degrade yourself
And become a killing machine

You remind me of
the most dangerous love
a poisonous kiss
that makes me
pleasurably
delirious
like a drunken peasant
who dreams of
making sweet love
to nature's
perfect painting.

You remind me of
Van Gogh's
swirling lights
within his starry starry night
a piece of art
with the heart
of such sweet melancholy.

You remind me
of someone
I still love
with a passing
friendly passion
like two boats
in a foggy bay
that almost crash
while they are
one their separate ways.

When a soft sparkle shimmers across the evening sky, or the water glimmers with ripples expanding ever outward in concentric circles, I will think of those I know, knew, and lost. I will remember them with a smile, and I will strive to be worthy of their love. I live this life for me not separate but part of a human collective and I offer my hand in hope to all even those who may bare me some malice. This is not naiveté, but love. Love for those who love but most important love for those who hate and I hope that by loving I can teach them to turn away from their rage and embrace everyone for what they truly are. Brothers and sisters to us all

Green fields of grass
Brown fields to plow
Grays roads to ride
Must and dust
To choke both of us
A watery world
Wrapped from one side
To the other side
And it all spins round
Going up and down
Rotating
In infinity
Moving through eternity
Space and times specialty
Life is only temporary
Our membership is barely honorary
The universe will not miss us
When we are gone

She’s got that busted lip
But you figured it
Was not worth
Your attention

So, all that tension
Just tightens her throat
Makes here choke
On all of her hope

Cause every day
Is just another
Dark shadow
And bruise
Waiting to happen

And you don’t care
Cause you weren’t there
Kissing razor tip dreams
Cutting skins
Till the beating drum
Never beats again

Sheets wet
She wets her bed
But it’s not ****
Its salty tears
And snot
That stains this
Plain wish
She cries out at night
I wish I was never born

The teachers ignore
The children insult
More injury
Compounded upon
Her misery
And the pain never stops
Till her body drops
A limp marionette
Dancing shadow
That paints pain no more

I do not know a sadder song
Then a happy one remembered
Nary be a verse to long
That it can’t be shortened
Or dismembered

Summers, springs,
Falls, and winters
Cut to smithereens
Fading in our memories
Till only shards of notes remain
Lost
Until the true tune
Returns to us

The song recalled
Calls forth the tears
Turning memories to sadness
Knowing that we were once loved
But cannot get back there again

I made
a beautiful space
in the corner
of my shade,

turned venom
into lace
and raced away
from your hate,

swirled quicksand
with my tired hands,

petted pretty vipers
that hissed,
slithering
to where I stand,

chased fireballs
that were ready
to consume me.

I pursued
my own agony,
bit my tongue
to taste
my own blood,
then spit it out
not in spite
but to watch
the red grow.

I wept in
the spider’s den
embedded in
a cloud of webbing.

I slept in
the sinking ship
that fell into
the cold underwater
abyss.

I lay afraid
to move
and died in
the infinite
eternal
black
that was once
beautiful,
until
it collapsed
and took
all the warmth
I ever had
back.

Time may be linear
Space may be infinite
Even though we think the limits curve
Universes growing within themselves
Swirling around each other
Space is not an ocean of stars
The oceans are space reflected
In darkness looking down we can see up
But looking up we only see up
Tiny jewels in the infinite
Sending light
In light’s own years

DNA makes mistakes
Splits and combines
Creates new forms
Slight variations
Copying errors
That got us here
Evolution is not directed
Not inspected by the locals

Patterns may be
May form and disappear
But not everything has to have a reason

Scabs crusting;
Feet wrinkle
with an unrelenting
wetness
in cold socks.

The soldier walks
reaching the point
of contact,
a swift interlude
of gorilla combat.

After the gun fight
he collects
small bullet casings.

Then when silence
finally comes at night
he takes them out,
rolling them
through and around
his fingers.

Various
colored casings
of memories chasing
each potential
point of pain;
He imagines
the cycle of sorrow
that each projectile
might have injected
into this world.

Then the soldier
buries the bullet casings
and
finally, leaves the battlefield.

Beauty hurts
I stretched the dirt
To cut the crust
Split the earth
To reach out to us
And find the past

Infinity sparkles
Beneath the soil
Sweet scent of raisin rolls
Roll me into memory
Beautiful but transient

**** the armament
Touch the firmament
Hit heaven’s eye
Not with weapons
But with dreams of the morrow
And dreams of yesterday
When beauty still looked the same

Soft childhood smile
Permanently plastered
On my mind
Loneliness mastered
But still cracks the plaster sometimes
Chipping the armor
And leaving seedlings
Of regret

Posing in pictures of the past
Beauty breaks my heart
Because beauty never lasts
Spoiled by winter frosts
Sickened and assaulted by winter’s loss
But sometime it comes back
Reincarnated in a flower
Or a butterfly

The greatest propaganda
In America is
The delusion
That you are free

Though you do not
Rest in a cell
You are not free

When you submit
To the ruling class
To get by
You are not free

Standards and laws
Made to protect
Divest you
From yourself
You are not free

For the sake of stability
You conform to a job
That you hate
A good little drone
You are not free

Even if you do not agree
With the laws that they make
You must obey
Or they will take you away
You are not free

In order to maintain
The basic family bonds
You are constrained
By their wants and needs
You are not free

If you want to fish
Or hunt
To feed your family
Or just for fun
You need a license
You are not free

Even when you vote to decide
What’s wrong and what’s right
And elect politicians for your side
Those people lie
Doing for the rich and their own kind
And the choice you had
Be it good or bad
Was a fractionally effective
Cause you are not free

Tolls on the roads
Taxes on your checks
Fines and other fees
Cause you are not free

Been a while since the draft
But that could come back
If the private war contractors
Ever get busted
And taken out of the field
The army will make you yield
Or imprison or ****
Cause you are not free

And freedom of speech
Could cost you your job
Slander if spoken
Libel if written
The rich lawyers and judges
Give and take permissions
PC speech
Abstract unwritten rules
Condemn you and yours
Cause you are not free

Any laws that you break
The ones you did not make
Could turn you into
A prisoner of the state
Enslaved, forced labor
Cause you are not free

And if you want to leave
This great country
To travel freely
You must pay for
A small passport
Or you will be confined
To the imaginary lines
People made up
Cause you are not free

Some will say
If you speak this way
You are not truly American
That other countries are worse
But what they lack
Or if I can’t solve this problem
Does not detract from the fact
Does not make lies true
What I am telling you
Is you are not free

I’m tired of this rant
Cause the list is to long
And I wish I was wrong
So tell me please
Where is your true liberty

If I remember correctly
That book that you taught
The BS we all bought
Specifically, said
No false idols in god’s stead

But today I see
Your televised priest
Asking for a G-6
Some deep strange ****
Talking about how
If god wants me to be rich

Hold up I thought Jesus said
Denounce all worldly goods
And follow me
Not get rich on cable tv

And thou shalt not lie
Well you blew that guy
When you told your wife
You’d be out for the night
But went out to **** some guy
Get two for one
Cause you just committed adultery son

I recall turn the other cheek
Not go out and get a gun
To shoot someone
With whom you disagree
And do we have to add
Thou shalt not ****

I also recall
The meek will inherit the earth
And as you have done
Unto the least
So you have done to me
Which doesn’t mean
******* on the poor
While sitting on your nice porch
I’m sure you got a lot to say
You can go on and shout out
About how we need to pray
But maybe you could start
Acting in a way
That doesn’t make your Jesus
Want to run the **** away
And stay in a place
Where he doesn’t have to face
Such deep hypocrisy

Been wearing it for a while, the thickest jacket I own,
So **** tight it’s pathetic but it still fits.
Thirty one years and even though it’s snug on my shoulder,
Even though it cuts deep into my armpit,
Till my flesh shifts and distorts, it’s still mine.
Brown leather jacket permeated in ****.
All the baggage, all that angst just won’t quit.
Sometimes, I take it off. Sometimes I let it rest;
Let that leathered nightmare take a break,
From tearing at my tense and tired chest.
Sometime, I shove it in the back of the closet,
But it always returns, whispering in my ear
You missed this failed at that. What were you thinking?
Should have been there? Why weren’t here?
Man I wish I’d been drinking.
**** that jacket; Worse for the ware and tare of life.
Even when I throw it away the stupid coat keeps coming back.
One day I am going to die in that ***** ol’ thing.

I can never go home
Cause home is not real

Never was, a place where I felt safe
Just a building with exits
Just people who no longer exist
No safety or happiness

So why do I laugh at this
Cause it is better than
Crying out loud

I am not proud
I just never knew
The same truths as you

Home was a beautiful lie

So I say goodbye
Before I say hello
I say good night
And close out the show

Never was a home
So I stand out here
Alone in the cold

We are complicated
Beautiful water bags
With calcium sticks
Tiny members
Inverted ***
Smoking desire
Snorting up ideas
And vomiting
More complexity
Chunks of variety
Intertwine
With red wine
And clichés

Grey waters wear
Sun strained ripples
With one hippo head
Less than halfway
Out to a greet the new day
Till the purple sunset
Suffering from a slight
Foggy haze
Loses the day and sets
Far far away

I have a glass heart
That bleeds red
But sees the living
And the dead

A fragile funhouse mirror
That reflects the world
With exaggerations
Distortions and misperceptions

A window that takes light in
And lets weirdness look out

A soul that doesn’t always know
What it is singing about
Whether it is a mournful dirge
Or a celebratory hymnal

The glass is cracked
On its way to shattering
Held together with glue
And love
Waiting for the breaking
But loving the unending bending
And mending of this fragile glass
Wonder

The starlight laughs
The golden tail
A glittering trail
Swerving in space
Changing with shifting gravity wells
Leaving only cosmic dust
To race
Thoughts to trace
The space between the space
Swishing through infinity
Fishing for divinity
Sea of siblings swimming to
Giggling back with static
No violence required
By the faith they inspire

The painter’s skill
Makes soft the flesh
Full blooming skin
Bleeding
Full colored man
Child
Eyes baring soul
Soul staring there
Memory and sight
Transcribed
Permanently placed
On the canvases’ face

Where can I put the pain of the world?
Can I stuff it inside while people buy the lie
that the race to possess is worth the pain they cause?

I want to heal them all.
I want to catch the fallen
the broken people calling
Out for mercy.

So I take it all in
one video,
one picture,
one story,
one movie,
one piece at a time.

Let it simmer in my stomach,
till I’m full of ulcers,
till the tension is to powerful,
till I’m a poet bomb
ready to explode
and let my ink bleed out
what humanity
has planted inside of me.

Been living on cans and that garbage food
Late night out back behind that convenience store
Thin pickings but they’re in separate bags
Donuts and pizza ain’t that bad
Park bench or playground slide bed in the summer
All night coffee at twenty four hour restaurant
Sketch a couple of pictures write a couple of poems
Read a book or two a day
Fifteen mile bike ride in the summer swelter
Crash at grandma’s after twenty four plus hours up
Sunburnt starving but I am still living
Never learned how to be a man but then again
Better than being a rotting corpse mannequin

It used it to be
That younger me
Loved working out

From long bike rides
To short runs at night
To long walks
From light weights
To heavy sets

Couldn’t go a single
Day without
Some sort of exercise

From nineteen
To twenty three
I was learning how to be
Healthy

From Twenty four
To Thirty one
It became a settled pattern

From Thirty two to now
I do not know how
But the energetic young one
Who had so much fun
Exercising
Is struggling to find
The same set of mind
To do
At least thirty five
Minutes a day

I love you
Or at least the seed of you
The one I knew
Through
Words and slight impressions
The one who stirred my obsessions
The little ink drop
Verbal hot spot
Linked to a photo

I love you
Or at least the idea of you
I am not prone to do
What all romantic idiots do
Claim true love at first sight
Cause that would be a lie
It’s more like
Lust at first verse
Which continues to flow

I love you
But it’s quite possible
That the tangible you
Will be a disappointment
That those words
You use
The ones that became my muse
Were merely light abstractions
Of your ever changing consciousness
And just between us
I want to be perfectly honest

I love you
I want to touch you
Do what those in lust do
I trust you
As much as I trust myself
Which is to say
Only fractionally more
Than everybody else
I fear that even when you say I love you to
You too may tire of me
As other lovers often do

I love you
I want you
I want to
Spend time with you
And in those hours
Divest myself of all the fear and power
I have
Be subsumed
By our passion
And if this is only passing
Then let me love you for now

Addiction makes me
a sick clown watching
a killer circus
filled with empty seats
and dead animals.

This wickedly twisted world
spins me around
like a broken carnival ride
that goes faster and faster.
While chuckling *******
wear plaster smiles
I sit sick and vomiting
spewing lines of black ink
half-truths obscured
by metaphors and similes.

The nightmare men
stare and grin at me
military twin to the police
wearing violence menacingly
strangling the landscape
with rubble, mace, mud,
glass, bullets, and blood.

I would wear goggles
to protect me from
their blood soaked insanity
but I prefer to look
with crystal clear
chlorine eyes
that burn
the very core of me.

This is a poem to the rote performers
Of the celestial bodies
Pretenders to perfection
Upon further inspection
They are not perfect spheres
More like phoenixes
Waiting to die in a billion years
And be reborn in a big bang
A trillion years later

The vacation is done
But I don’t want to come home
Haven’t wrote anything all week
So when the driving starts
I don’t speak
My pen does
The fading suns plays hide and seek sneaking behind
Tall red brick building blinking and blinding me intermittently
The first thing I see
Outside of the frustrating congested city
Is a silver topped silo
Miles more away the world becomes
An infinite sea of green and browning trees
Clearing that cauliflower collective
Orange marked work zone signs pop up every ten miles
Redirecting my tired mind
To the side the favorite part of any ride I watch
Pools of shimmering water refract, reflect, and relax my tense body
As we pass them by
Grey clouds sporadically spit little bits of cleansing rain
Dead dry dragon clouds with a soft pink underbellies
Drift dangerously close to me
Darkness decimates the white light veil
Becoming a star strewn corn moon
Night sky
We still have a long drive
And I still don’t want to go home

A man is measured by his work
Stressed and struggling
Gasping for a breath of relaxation
A daily compounding of suffering
Dignity sacrificed
Life
Judged poorly if he is poor
A person should be measured better
Perhaps not judged at all
Could be judged by his kindness

Time takes
this pain
and replaces
it with an anger
that maims,
a mood that blames
you
for the weird thing you do.

Never been
more than friends,
but I was hoping
you would dump
those violent
cheating men.

You spent hours
telling me
all about their
cruelty.
How they make you
wonder why
you attract
those kind of guys,
the ones who lie
and lay hands on you.

Meanwhile,
I stop by
when you call me.
When I hear you cry
I play the nice guy
comfort and cradle
the cracked heart,
till you are able
to walk yourself
right on to the next
abusive ex.

Each time
I find my mind
darkened by
thoughts of
self-hate
wondering how bad
I must be
for you to see
sociopathic
sexist
violent men
as a better and
more attractive
alternative then me.

So, I try to move on
until you come along,
say that you miss me
ask me to go to the movies,
and I just jump
right back in.

They say greatness
comes from grand
achievements,
military service,
athletic endeavors,
or the acquisitions of wealth.

I do not need that flavor
of false bravado.
I would rather wrestle
poetry
from the heavy heart
of humanity.

How beautiful you were
Dyed with life’s colors
Full flushed with blush
Gleaming skin
Moist from the raining
Now wearing crimson
In the mud

How beautiful you are
The undertaker’s art
No longer thriving
Nor feeling heat
Emanating from
The beating of your heart

How beautiful you will be
Buried under the roots
Of the now small willow tree
Tendrils feasting on your flesh
Feeding life with your death
Your greatest and final success
A beauty in all phases

Who knows what thoust sees when thou lookest upon the sea.
No fragrant flowers wafting sweet perfume
No open fields full of **** born mushrooms
No sunny days where lovers pray to play their ****** part
Display their desirous heart naked and blushing
Not from shame but from such pleasurable exertions
No fairytale creatures like unicorns, elves, or hobbits
No dragons with emerald scales to catch and claw
Devouring my flesh
No fantastic sea serpent
Ready to rend the ships to pieces

The roads diverge
merge then re-emerge
somewhere I have never been,
so I follow them,
from the same point of origin
to the same destination
but following impulsive tangents.
The country road novelty
builds new neural pathways.

I know these are not the roads
that my grandpa drove
but I think he did
the same thing.
From the past
I can almost feel
his parallel curiosity.

We are two travelers
in different times
on different roads
with the same heart
to drive away
but always find
our roads homes.

I guess was stalking
Stephen Hawking,
a digital wonder
when he starts talking
speakers squawking
out more brilliance
then a million
of those treasure troll
jelly roll
spitting skoal
racist rednecks.

Chased down Bill Nye
the super sonic
science Guy
cause I hoped he could help
me learn why
creationist and politicians
get so far by telling lies.

Sat next to
Richard Dawkins
who left me gawking.
Never saw a scientist
so perfectly British
with his “Selfish Genes”
questioning everyone’s
“God Delusion.”

And Neil De Grass Tyson
was on the radio splicing
science with pop culture,
making “Star Talk” podcasts that
are trying to bring back
scientific literacy
before our society
actually becomes
The movie “Idiocracy.”

It seems frivolous
The frailties of humanity
Wasted potential
Perpetuated by sleep deprivation
And dehydration
Foggy eyed mouth dried
Dumbed down
Overworked
Overstressed
Then in the ground
What a waste
To waste away
In such a dreadful state
With only the hours between now and death
To enliven your dying breath
Perhaps there are better things to do

The flag flailed flawlessly
then fell flaccidly
under the bushy
grey brow like clouds.

Restless winds
settled in
to a plain old boring
temperate temperament.

Then the dull day
gave way
to much ado
as the clouds grew
dark and heavy with
evaporated wetness.

The calming clouds
could not contain
their weighted frame
anymore.

Soft trickles
turned to
a thick downpour
moistening
my dry skin
till I was soaking.

Thin T
sticking
awkwardly
to me,

but the water felt good,
so, I sat and basked in
the rushing rain
that was falling.
Till, the earth beneath me
began sinking
muddily.

Then, I sloshed
my soaked self-home
sheepishly
spreading all the muddy
mess around me.

This is not a love poem
Or an infatuation poem
This is a mad respect poem
Not wanting to own or dissect poem
But a poem of true appreciation
For present and future enlightenment

She is bubonic
In her blue bonnet
Like a little black plague
Little rose petals
Withered corpse friends
Flushed with life’s
Last red blush
Swooning maroon
To her oncoming doom
And when I kiss her
She passes it on to me
Her disease becomes mine
My little Mary Typhoid
Dreadfully beautiful
Deadly but so lovely
With words of love
She snaps me in two

It is a horrible shade
something I thought
that I would never be,
but for you
I see jealousy.

I am jealous of the air
that fills your lungs,
that hears you breath,
and carries the sound
of your heart beats.

I am jealous of the rain
that makes you smile
while you run a mile,
touching your skin,
sweet intermingling
sweat moistening.

I am jealous of the night sky
that sees you come alive,
knows where you lie,
so that it can visit you at night.

I am jealous of time
spent to see you grow,
got to get to know
your heart, and experiences,
your art, and deviances,
your dreams,
from the cradle to now.

I am jealous of the heart
that held you first,
that hurt you worse,
knowing that I could never
commit such a crime,
could never waste such a fine mind,
I find time to despise
that male shaped guise
who swindled your younger heart
before I ever got to be a part
of your life.

I thought you wrote of the heart you broke.
The poems spoke of sorrows familiar,
but not your own.

The verses were benign.
No identity to find,
just plaid sentiments
parsed out pieces
of other people poetry.

Pop sensations,
predictable platitudes,
empty verses
with no sign of your heart,
so many syllables to hide behind,
but what I couldn’t find.

It was you, I was looking for
in those words.

I’m an ally cat,
straight up
******* strange.

I’m an ally cat
with a strong
case of mange.
Ain’t no
women alive
ever going to
tame,
this grey haired
wandering
battling
ally cat
can’t be trained.

I’m an ally cat
always on the prowl,
haunting
the ***** city streets,
looking for
something meaty
to eat.

I’m an ally cat,
*****, furry,
sometimes friendly.
Though you hurry
I don’t worry
this ally cat
always knows
how to survive.

I take a pause for the poetry
But the word won’t come
The pencil is broken
The pen has run
I am dry inside

I take breath for the broken
My purpose pertains
To the hearts that our stained
The ones who abstained
From feeling anything
But my voice is wrong
The syllables are gone

I take minute for myself
But I am only a shade
Sparse specter fraction of
The person who always loved
The person who was strong enough
To cradle the world with the warmth of his heart
Who took the steps to start
And watched it all fall apart

I take some time
Then time takes me
I lose myself
I lose my dreams
Settling in to old patterns
Struggling to make what I earn

I take one last look
As things disappear
People pass away
Memories become unclear
And I cannot remember any lines
From the music I used to hear
I cannot see the words
Taste life’s sweetness
Smell or feel anything

I take nothing
And give it right back
A wasted life
Some heart attack
Funny when it was
The heart I lacked

I got running water
Cold or hotter
And I never have to
Watch my daughter
Get *****

I get internet and electricity
And I never had to watch my city
Get burnt from drone dropped bombs

I got air conditioner and heating
Even though I took a few beatings
I don’t have to be afraid
Of getting shot today

I got a job paying minimum wage
So after my bills I got a little extra
Coming my way
So I can buy books and go to the movies

May life may not be great
But I can’t debate
That when I wake up each day
I don’t wake up a slave

When I walk home at night
I am not walking in a state of fright
Anxious that some stranger might
Hurt me

I live better than over seventy five percent
Of the world
Even my worse days
Beat the haze of foreign war ways

It is just a thing
barely a temporary fix
that does not mix
with the mind’s expansions
does not help you grow
or know
new worlds
within or without.

It will not save you
or take you to
new and grand places
with unknown faces.
Unless, it is a book.

I am not grounded by this poisonous dirt
My roots do not fall into your social disease
This country is not the soil on which I am fertilized
Lies only serves to sap the earth of her nutrients

It is the world that birthed me
Nurtured though sometimes hurt me

I am not a creature of my local society
But a sapling ready to spring from the entirety
Of humanity

These aged rings that mark my time
Can be found in every sound that nature mimes

My mind is free to be a grand improvement

The earth that birthed me is our shared history
In science, art, education, love, and poetry

My hands are leaves that branch forth from me

So when I flower blooming beautiful petals
When they fall like a warm autumn shower
When my limbs crack, snap, and bend
Heavy with winter’s water laden wind
Lay me bare right here to wither and rot away

You, my beneficiary will emerge from the same dirt
But grow to be a brighter bigger more beautiful tree

What sense’s sensuous delight
may breathe joy into
my anxious state of mind.

A gentle breeze
that cools me
bringing in
the scent of
smiling flowers
slightly muted
by the morning dew
that almost
forms a rainbow,

The same wind
now rushing
makes the sound
of rustling leaves
then flows
like a wave across
the growing
glowing green
parallel path
of grass that I see
from the harsh highway
that seams
to own me.

Or is it
the soft hairy head
and the sound of
a baby laughing
after I gently tickled
his tiny toes
that makes me feel
just a bit better
then when I am anxious.

I wonder why people measure success by the level of their wealth, their beauty, or other things that indicate class or status instead of the good they do for others. When I am close to death I hope I am able measure my success by the times I made people laugh, or smile when they were sad, helped them to think when they were confused, and was able to learn from them becuase I knew that they had vauable insights share.

Lovely light hearted Layla,
my lyrical inspiration,
the source of my hopeful heart
and tear felt frustration.

I want to ride the night,
to stand by your side,
and hold your hand
as we cross this land.

I’ve heard the tears
other broken hearted lovers cry,
and seen nothing,
but the blackness of the otherside.

Oh, treasured friend of mine
is there something there
behind your eyes
that I might find,
perhaps a slight spark
lit in your heart
that parallels mine.

Layla, I long to hold you by the hearth,
hot and ***** loving affection
that burns against the dark
of the cold winter woods.

Layla, you are my wild one,
in whom I trust
but I doubt that my love
will ever touch
the summit of your desirous affections.

I let it grow
The brown and grey
****** hair
Spreading like a plague
To cover the face
I used to hate

Now that shaggy man
That scraggly hound
Isn’t so bad

Despite the rough
Times he had
He has a heart
To hold the whole world
In loving esteem

Who cares if he is raggedy
And smelly

He is love incarnate
Messy but brilliant
King of mercy
A little *****

But
Who wouldn’t have
***** hands
When they are struggling
To plow a field
Full of angry fists
And replace them with
Love