Horsemen of the Apocalypse,
today ride in tanks and jets,
bringing the same,
death incarnate.

Flashing eyelashes,
seconds in time,
surprisingly passed,
a life lived fast.

Pain and sorrow,
can heal or pass,
but there is no cure,
for death.

A coins two sides,
reside in duality,
just like day and night,
and life and death.

The shadows of the future,
are our constant companions from birth,
becoming longer and darker as the year's pass,
until solidifies as the grim reaper,
on your final day.

Heaven or Hell,
energy in the cosmos,
freed of all burdens,
by times scythe.

As we all must,
eventually, cast off
flesh and blood,
and embrace wings.

Ancient memories
transport me
to another place, different time,
alternate existence, simply sublime.

Through the winter's mist,
darkened by fires smoke,
emergence by grace,
the green of spring in my heart.

Crested blue jay,
perched upon the branch,
above the crystal snow,
feathers ruffled in the wind.

Longing for the new shoots of spring,
pushing up through the melting snow,
and announcing that life shall go on.

The wind and rain begin,
beware of flash floods,
snowmelt from above, dangerous,
brings needed moisture.

Colors spread on horizons,
like flavors of jam,
depending on the day and clouds,
determines sunset's taste.

The cold empty beach,
seeping sand into my soul,
the cold crashing waves,
longing for swimmers.

The undisturbed *****,
raid tide pools, brazen,
while green leaves blow,
across silent silicate.

So much angst,
suicidal thoughts,
cutting to feel,
the soul never to heal.

Pills popped,
drowning in *****,
the needle explored,
veins have been gored.

Scarred to the bone,
with no hope at all,
gray skies abound,
no musical sounds.

Ominous fog,
covers the land,
acid rain from the sky,
dissolving the butterfly.

Depression depths,
their birth unwanted,
questioning whether God is about,
top of lungs in a shout!

Lost in themselves,
a hole in their hearts,
found in shadowed pasts,
will it always last?

In darkness, I lay,
waiting for my eyes,
pupils dilate fully,
complete blackness.

A pillow under my head,
covered with a sheet and blanket,
there is a pleasant hum,
from an air conditioner.

I've no idea of the time,
or recollection of the place,
I feel in the bed,
another pillow I stack.

As I raise my head,
look down passed my feet,
I see... something,
hanging in the air.

A golden thread,
floats out of reach,
I study it hard,
to understand what I see.

It's very thin and not quite straight,
very small scallops curl it slightly,
it has a definite start,
and a definite stop.

I sit and stand,
I must know what it is,
with tentative steps, I drag my feet,
toward the mystery.

As I approach,
I feel air on my face,
I reach for the thread,
and grab and pull.

A massive amount of light
blinds me momentarily,
as my eyes adjust,
I remember.

Looking out on a motel parking lot,
the one I stopped at, exhausted,
just an hour ago,
judging by the bank clock across the street.

Tissues and Xanax,
Oxy and pain,
drying the tears,
zombify my brain.

Amber liquid in my cup,
it soothes and numbs,
sands the rough edges,
the drugs miss.

Feelings blotted out,
like a solar eclipse,
just the outer limits showing,
and they are blinding.

Burning retinas,
manic depressive,
the highs and lows,
attempted to level.

A fight I continue,
the struggle is real,
hopeful at times,
is it possible to heal?

Little brown dog,
curled up on a
green rectangle mat,
just snuggled in
for an afternoon nap.

The sun is bright,
but the wind is howling,
it is no day
for an afternoon outing.

So curl up, curl up,
with a cat in your lap,
lean back in your chair,
let's all take a nap.

Do you ever think,
about a wink,
or a *****,
in your armor?

Do you ever go,
with the flow,
so you'll glow,
so much brighter?

Have you ever been on a cruise,
had a black and blue bruise,
or taken an arm in arm snooze,
with your beautiful lover?

My eyes are open, blink,
as I think on a kink,
about something pink,
that I'm needing?

Picture taking memories,
under vibrant green trees,
but the brown falling leaves,
tell us that seasons change.

Have you ever roamed,
in underground catacombs,
built with skulls and stones,
by the ancients hands?

Raw red bacon,
wrapped in a string,
tossed into the clear pond
watching, waiting

The brown creature,
shoots backward,
through the water,
as it approaches.

Claws clamp down
on pork belly fat,
the string goes taught,
and I lift him into the air.

Dangling over the canary yellow bucket,
he turns loose and lands with a splash,
reunited with 30 of his kin,
as they make circumference circles.

The crickets sing under willow branches,
and bream patrol the dangling limbs,
waiting for a fat one to fall in,
and become a swimming meal.

The big bullfrog sits and watches
me from the opposite bank,
wary but comfortable now,
he sings his croaking song.

One more crawfish on my bait,
and he falls into my bucket,
I walk through the pasture, home,
where water is already boiling.

From Tycho's crater on the moon,
looking at the blue Earth, I swoon,
comets burn across the sky,
where planets and the sun, do fly.

Mercury races with flaming wings
on its surface, heat it stings,
liquid metal in swollen pools
heat and pressure create jewels.

Our red cousin where rovers roam,
perhaps someday we will call it home,
melting water at its poles,
terraforming Hawking extolls.

The swirling storm of Jupiter's eye,
the swirling clouds of the Venus sky,
icy bands engage around Saturn,
stars light the darkness as a lantern.

Deeper out Uranus and Neptune,
into the blackness, we enter soon,
out past Pluto and sister Charon,
where the system, just gets barren.

Into the darkness, the unknown,
it may be where God hides his throne,
or it might just be only dark matter,
but one day soon, like seeds we'll scatter.

Deep red Burgundy,
from a dark green bottle,
decanted, into crystal flutes,
wrapping of arms to sip.

Earthy sweetness touches the tongue,
teases with hints of smoke and mushroom,
a bit of sweet berry and spice,
and a finish of dark cherries.

Dark stained lips,
break into a smile,
as she leans in for a kiss,
her notes and flavors are sublime.

Auburn hair falls on shoulders,
as she climbs out of the bed,
old Nolan Ryan t-shirt, her gown,
turquoise *******, a vision.

A little wiggle as she walks out of the room,
a treat because she knows that I am watching,
I can still feel the heat from last nights events,
and long for a morning repeat.

Now walking around teasing,
in fuzzy house shoes,
almost close enough to me to grab,
but giggling just out of reach.

A kiss and an order
get up, we have stuff to do,
I get up and obey,
with a pinch and yes ma'am.

Tattered flags fly as flagpoles bend,
in the ever present New Mexican wind,
tumbleweeds roll and stack up high,
as all of the birds struggle to fly.

The dust blows dark and blocks out the view,
hide and take cover, here comes the haboob,
Walmart sacks and leaves scurry, crossing across the ground,
all that is heard is the winds roaring sound.

18 wheelers rolled over and into the ditch,
window whistles, but there's no tuning the pitch
the needle grass army marches, to the wind chiming beat,
there is no way to fight, just sound the retreat.

Upon the ship, I ride,
never to touch dry land,
a mistake once made,
to be paid for with death.

Birth at the wrong place, wrong time,
has set me on a path,
unpleasant destinies,
no matter how you do the math.

******, hexed, unforgiven,
the spell has been cast,
I shall attempt to avoid,
but not sure I can last.

Grains of salt and holy water,
potions to undo,
ingredients gathered,
to prepare an unholy stew.

The poisoned apple,
a step on a crack,
the voodoo doll,
I'm under attack.

Codependency,
a treadmill of deceit,
tears of repetition,
yet a cycle of pain.

Sins and strain,
on souls, we stain,
though we try,
the ink is dry.

Speak now or forever hold your peace,
a hard lesson learned,
when for love,
you still yearn.

Though the void appears empty,
sifting through the nothing,
yields jewels most would miss.

Shattered thoughts and dreams,
draw blood from fingertips,
some glued together,

Coming to fruition,
others swept under the rug,
or washed away with tears.

Words, thoughts captured and imprisoned,
poured onto paper and screens,
a piece of my soul, no longer free,
but that is okay, as it grows more,
when other people read them,
and their thoughts, start to pour.

Give me a beach, on a jungle shore,
while it might take some work, it won't be a chore,
fishing for dinner, and gathering fruit,
building thatched huts with palm fronds for roofs.

Let me dig clams or mussels, or catch rays,
barter them with neighbors, a good catch really pays,
swap them for milk, a goat, or some meat from wild boar,
although we have no stuff, were not close to poor.

The crashing waves sing a rhythmic lullaby,
as I hang in my hammock and close my eyes,
my crab trap is baited to catch overnight,
it will be full, in the dawns early light.

So give me a beach, with white sand and surf,
I have no need of a house and manicured turf,
The salt spray and sun are good for my bones,
I'll be happy to sit on my sugar cane throne.

Rusted red wagon bed
could never hold my pain,
now matter how many times
I loaded it up.

I towed it around
but it seeped out,
slow and steady,
out of its rusted holes.

Dripping to the ground
in small drops,
oozing back together,
reforming and crawling.

Heading back to my feet,
up my legs,
up my neck,
and in my ear.

Burrowing back into my soul,
which is its home,
and where it belongs,
as it is a part of me.

Ocean breezes uplifted by
salty sandy dunes,
creeping vines hold it all together,
little girl foot prints and crab holes indent.

Her balloons whip wildly in the onshore flow,
tiny fingers white knuckle grip the string,
multi-tailed kites fly nearby, her grip begins to slip,
the string burns as it is ripped from hand.

Balloons fall, as do tears to the ground,
rolling to the bottom of the dune,
all but one abruptly pop,
it begins to float up into blue skies.

Crying and bawling heard, change
into giggles, as one dream gains height,
it surpasses the kites and the clouds,
a single red balloon disappears from sight.

Carmine curtains pulled from the window,
wrapped around her while wrestling,
***** lashings from my tongue ensue,
both of us submitting to the other's passions.

The Lambada lasts into the night,
lovers swirl and bounce,
crawling and jumping,
until the music winds down into ecstasy.

Your soul is my binding,
your skin is my pages,
our love is a book,
that I long to pen.

My thoughts transmitted,
traced by my fingertips
in a trail of goosebumps,
that I rub in with my palm.

My intentions overflow,
spilled from their container,
with my feathered quill,
I start another chapter.

Page after page,
thought after thought,
kissed into your skin,
till the plot becomes apparent.

As the pages get short,
rereading is necessary,
more loving ink pours
until at last the covers close.

But, the series continues.

The golden rays of the sun,
shine on the red fox
as she traverses the trodden dirt path
among the tall pine trees and disappears.

The smell of earth and leaf mold,
and the occasional sweet bloom
rise from the forest floor
in the summertime's heat.

A long dead tree stump
makes a great watchtower,
elevated and out of the dampness,
to survey the muddy creek bottom.

Below, a bobcat slinks in the shadows
down to the flowing creek,
rapid fire pink tongue
draws it in, to satiate thirst.

Suddenly ears ***** high,
and the cat flattens out,
a high pitched squeak
and motion in the pine straw.

The mouse emerges from its tunnel
on the other side of the creek,
a leaping bobcat is its last sight,
as it is carried away into the woods.

Sun creeps over the mountain tops,
deep in the holler hiding out from cops,
copper line coils and smoke rises high,
snow melt creek cools it off with a sigh.

Lightning in a bottle, infused with spice,
apple pie and peaches, make it taste nice,
swallow it down, that burning feeling,
it lifts the veils, truths start revealing.

Moonshine midnights and the stars shine,
dew drops drip from the long leaf pine,
a log fire burns long and slow,
steam hisses and pops as white lightning flows.

Quart mason jars filled up right,
don't want any spills, ***** the lid on tight,
catch every drop coming out of the still,
on the creek bank, hidden back in the hills.

Twenty dollars a pop, time to make the dash,
selling it around and making some cash,
got to be careful, or people start talking,
then got hide as cops start stalking.

Meeting buyers on back roads,
guy just bought my whole load,
says he wants more, hands me up front cash,
guess its time to go and start new mash.

Moonshine midnights and the stars shine,
dew drops drip from the long leaf pine,
a log fire burns long and slow,
steam hisses and pops as white lightning flows.

Fresh maple syrup
and the taste of wine,
my lover's kisses
all are divine.

The sweetness caresses,
my tongue and soul,
creating memories
and making me whole.

Snowberry and lace,
leather and clove,
an aromatic journey
into the senses.

What was the smell,
lemon or clove,
or was it mint sweet,
in your dark abode.

Jasmine spice,
lavender is nice,
but your pleasures
are my favorite vice.

I dip my tongue into the flower,
the sweet nectar, heavenly,
the exotic heady mixture
of perfumed spices
excite my senses.

Velvet purple clouds
in an amber liquid sky,
waterfalling glass, full
to make the day go by.

Crowns upon my tongue,
an icy squire by my side,
jousting in the evening,
for the love and pride.

The love within my bones
plays an organs song,
stronger than the stones
I felt when all alone.

Wingbeats from overhead,
as two arrive into the orchard,
the wind blasted last night
and they understand the result.

The random caws, attract others,
presently a scene from Hitchcock re-enacted,
the invading hoard spreads out
growing and moving by squad.

Paper shells and native nuts,
plundered and pillaged,
the ****** rifles through
the leaves in search of sustenance.

Like a mortar volley fired
into the army's midst,
a slamming front door
sends a raucous cloud of black into the sky!!

My mind is a magician,
creating illusions to stop the pain,
sleight of hand and heart,
to comfort the emotional brain.

Some deep dark fears
to bring you to tears,
nightmares realized
emotions crystallized.

Your throne is now ashes,
you glass palace is smashed,
you could not contain
me with your disdain.

A bit of death
to steal your breath,
a bit of pain
and pouring rain.

The sun shines upon her face,
and she absorbs its cosmic power,
nourished, for now,
until night comes.

Dancing and spinning in Luna's rays,
as joy and passion grow,
the darkness allows
my feelings to show.

We sit by the fire to soothe aching bones,
whispered neck kisses and pleasurable moans,
the day is improving as is my desire,
the fire and I against you, conspire.

The chorus of limbs
climb to heaven's gates,
our quintessence clamors for entry
to everlasting euphoria.

The story we continue to write,
ink falls on and stains the page
through every experience
and decisions made.

Ah the night is silent,
like a tomb,
monsters come out,
with the moon.

Walls of bones edge the path,
as ancestors grin in candle light,
as I roam under cathedrals,
a trip to history,
but everyone is silent.

I roam the catacombs
from time to time,
one never knows
what one may find.

Except, chiming marrow,
turned to dust,
encapsulating ancient,
memories and knowledge.

A scuff in the distance,
shutter the lantern.
Don't dare take a breathe
that will give us all away.

Knights shields hold secrets,
embossed with codes,
sword topped sarcophagus box,
containing what?

What indeed, tricks and traps.
Skill is needed,
to navigate the deadly
corners, keep your wits sharp.

But that light is like a grid,
cast through storm grates,
hiding only one eye,
that stares from the dark.

Each pool of light
offers false comfort.
The dark brings security

Stone slabs slide open,
with grinding teeth sounds,
amid rising dust,
a treasure inside?

I hear them rise from the depths,
their ancient bones rattle,
deep like hollow thunder.

Hand in hand with another,
laughter and smiling faces,
seen across the restaurant,
as the stitch in my heart unlaces.

The full moon had shone overhead
but crimson clouds now blow,
the knife blade cuts deep,
from white to red goes the snow.

Acid rain eats through protective layers,
exposing raw red nerves of the past,
old memories now reopened,
new blood from old wounds sprays fast.

Simmering sadness in the pressure cooker,
now boils over with burning tears,
that had been sealed and covered,
entombed safely for years.

I slip out the side door
hopefully unseen,
my night turned to nightmare,
tonight, memories haunt my dreams.

angels fall to earth
arrive as daughters of man
through love, create more

The smells of horses
and of leather and sweat,
the sparks of steel on steel,
the metallic tang of blood.

The whoosh of arrows,
the twang of strings,
the sound of banners,
whipping in the breeze.

Hooves pound and nays ring out,
the squeals of injured animals,
the shouts of men near death,
the silence between skirmishes.

Proving grounds of bravery,
and confirmations of the witless,
these fields can make a man,
or reduce a man to a shadow.

Gauntlets worn on blistered hands,
raised high with a blade in hand,
muscles clench as the broadsword
glimmers in the setting sun.

The victorious king
views the carnage
from the top of the hill,
and looks upon his new lands.

A pile of brush,
ready to burn,
as evening falls,
and whippoorwills call.

A single match and glowing,
hands creep in shadows,
as grins form,
in the flickering light.

Blankets on the ground,
the stars and moon overhead,
clothes in a pile,
all have been shed.

The fire's warmth on bare skin,
caresses goosebumps,
formed by a traveling tongue
and whispered hums.

Dancing naked to music,
no one can hear,
fueled by lust,
and the case of beer.

The crickets and the night hawk,
silenced by the moans,
as I worship my queen,
as she lays on her throne.

Her honey drips from her ***,
I lap it up greedily,
her sweetness invigorates me,
and readies me for what is to come.

Whipped into a frenzy,
she looks at me with desire,
my flag waves in the breeze,
as I surrender entirely.

Burned I am from her heat,
raging hotter than the fire,
arcing blue sparks,
from our desire.

I slide into her oven,
where I start to bake,
with her instruction,
I frost her cake.

Happenings close by
Swing from heart strings playfully
Tying knots of love

New changing motions
Parting streams of consciousness
Causing our souls to connect

Soft silver beams
Etch passion on your face
As eyes reflect star sparkles

Raging currents or winds
Swirling molecules of water
The flash and rumble come

Two sided coins
Speak of personalities
Good and evil reflected

Hot sands scorch
Scales gain traction
S pattern trail shimmers in silica

tuille and silk wrap 'round
a day of celebration
a night of pleasure

On a wing and a prayer,
the sound of feathers and wind roar,
as it dives toward the ground,
yellow talons outreached.

A brown streak runs into crispy tumbleweeds,
and darts in and out of desert dunes,
seeking shelter with a squeal,
as death drops from above.

Small turmeric colored flowers,
grow in bunches surrounded by halos of green,
attracting, but dangerous,
thorny burs to puncture feet.

Black and brown scorpions,
hide from the blistering heat
under rocks and vegetation,
lurking, waiting the opportunity to sting.

The desert is a dangerous place,
as the rattlesnake leaves a trail
across the red-brown sand,
and disappears in the blowing dust.

Once happy
and candy sweet,
spelled with sugared hearts
as on Valentine's day.

The pain of love,
lost in the wind,
like leaves swept away
from the common limb.

Soul dissection,
heart removal,
the drying stain
of spilled blood.

Once removed,
all is blue and black,
bruises are the only thing
that remain, along with the depression.

The memories and feelings,
that cannot be excised,
shadow pains continue
though the source is no more.

Down darkened paths with flowing creeks,
you never know who you may meet,
scary things from nursery rhymes,
sensual creatures, search good times.

Things with teeth and tusks and spears,
that stand your hair, and drive your fear,
or lacy winged miniature women,
creating thoughts that are forbidden.

Naked goddesses from Greece or Rome,
that want a seat upon your throne,
or their fathers or their brothers
that if they catch you, will be your ******.

Children from the Neverland
that simply need a helping hand,
creatures of fire that feed on coal,
or evil beings that need your soul.

Do not get lost in these hinterlands,
as you may be unable to meet demands,
stay on the path, straight and narrow.
and always bring your bow and arrow.

Through Pink Floyd's Prism,
I hit the wall,
spattered into red, yellow
indigo, and other aspects of light.

Bent and twisted
through crystal diodes,
that power pulses
in the mind.

The beat kicks in
pounding my senses,
as I float, distant
sailing on the spectrum sea.

The bricks surround me
walling me in,
I am alone,
but I wonder
am I really?

Are others out there,
I long to ask my mother?
Perhaps they hide
in the darkness out in space.

The other side of the moon
promotes silvered questions,
that float like a balloon
into the eclipsed night.

Am I really here
flesh and blood
or am I just a thought
blowing in the solar wind.

A million passing faces
on the highway and back roads
a two finger salute from the steering wheel
anonymously passing, never to be known.

Eye contact and a nod or a hello,
passing down the hospital hallway,
in 12 different facilities over 17 years
simply another possibility passed by.

A road passed by, and a wonder
where does that go, as a bicycling child
heads down it at full speed
with a look over his shoulder.

Random chance, or is it fate or destiny,
that set people in our path?
I like to thinks it's free will,
as I like to be in control.

Oh how we may be different,
if we knocked on random doors,
with a smile and conversation,
in a huge sky rise apartment building.

The many combinations,
mind-boggling statistics,
of the paths, we could cross,
yet we are unable, due to time and distance.

In the deep, dank, dark expanse,
stinging scorpions and crawling ants,
empty-eyed skulls stare
into swampy phosphorescent gasses.

Creatures with slumped shoulders
and heads hung low,
mumble quietly,
covered in oozing blue-green algae.

The moon glow shadows
show us unwanted images,
movie projected on the ever present
wind blown, glowing mist rising.

A lonesome howl in the near distance,
like a warning siren as the tornado approaches,
bring heads up, and sets the scene in chaos,
anguish, and terror, palpable and tasting.

Alligators with golden eyes glide
through frothy waters,
waiting on the edges,
in the sawgrass, in ambush mode.

The rest of us simply disappear,
burrowing into the muddy ground,
to anticipate safer junctures,
and the light of the new sun.
(If it ever comes.)

Media bias contamination,
guilt through association,
run and hide from freedoms speech,
most are a blood ******* leech.

Riot, run and break some glass,
none of them have any class,
not really here to protest,
just destroy and make a mess.

Watching the news,
a sad reality,
good and evil,
the real duality,
changing daily depending on your view,
this is what we’re going through.

Stealing, mayhem, and destruction,
not interested in critic construction,
fires lit and cars upended,
until our rights are suspended.

Water cannons, pepper spray,
still, they will not go away,
**** police, they think it's right,
then run away into the night.

Watching the news,
a sad reality,
good and evil,
the real duality,
changing daily depending on your view,
this is what we’re going through.

Sleep all day, so they’re ready to,
ignore and defy the new curfew,
businesses and stores destroyed,
now none of them can be employed.

From ideas, safe spaces sought,
Some of them have been bought,
Soros, Obama, and others pay,
so those people are led astray.

Watching the news,
a sad reality,
good and evil,
the real duality,
changing daily depending on your view,
this is what we’re going through.

Nefarious criminals with Molotovs,
riot police with tear gas bombs,
leading innocence into flames
simple chaos is their game.

Where it stops it’s a guess,
But right now a complete mess,
one day we may get along,
but for now, division is strong.

Watching the news,
a sad reality,
good and evil,
the real duality,
changing daily depending on your view,
this is what we’re going through.

Skeletons of our consumerism
tossed aside the road,
wasted wrappings of trees
and extruded petroleum,
to forever reside
in landfills cemetery.

***** of rubber bands, multicolored,
a *** of paperclips, a maze of its own
an old pink eraser, crumbling in the corner,
loose, Tylenol, Benadryl, Band-Aids, and a random stone.

Chap Stick, tape, and highlighters,
keys to locks unknown,
remote controls and toothpicks,
and shiny loose change, strewn.

Scissors, dust and a pack of gum
of the cinnamon flavored kind,
you can get lost in here
no telling what you'll find.

Delicate features
a floral perfume,
in deep thoughts
of nature's beauty.

Heavy lidded eyes
contemplate questions,
with a raised brow,
as the answers grow.

A soft breeze blows
across her garden,
as yellow butterflies ride
the swirling current.

The bright sun warms
and nourishes
her natural skin,
no makeup here.

Winter dry,
static sparks,
under heavy blankets,
flashing blue arcs.

My hand travels towards you
creeping with desire,
a trail of heat behind it
glowing hot like a fire.

I slide near you,
electricity pops and cracks,
when we touch,
like magnets attract.

Our touching lips,
could not be pried,
bodies come together
like full moons tide.

Our crashing waves
about to overflow,
strobing lights,
from frictions glow.

Struggling in the darkness,
I crawl around the room,
a wall followed to a corner,
and trailed till fabric is felt.

Curtains were thrown open,
yet still encased in blackness,
I sink to the ground, defeated,
my hands closed on a rectangle.

In the darkness, a lighter found,
I light the blinds on fire, illumination comes in
as the house burns down,
and the sun sinks below the horizon.

Sitting amongst bits of glowing ember,
matching the stars sparkling in the sky,
I longed for light of the sun,
and it too was extinguished with tears.

Pour the Whiskey.

Two cubes and amber waves,
the oceans tsunami in my glass,
I give it a swirl and a sniff,
before enjoying the burn.

Someone pass the Cheetos.

The paper rolled tight, opposite twists on the end,
a flick of the Bick and light it up,
a ******* inhale,
allowing the mellowness to seep in.

The Hookah

The water bubbles,
as the smoke rises,
filling the glass decanter
and rising toward,
waiting mouths and lungs.

Cuban Cigars

Rolled on the thighs of virgins
or so they claim to be,
either way, stoke it up
and keep your ashes long.

Beer!

In the bottle or the mug
dressed with lime or plain,
foreign or domestic,
as long as its ice cold.

Single Malt

Earthy and peaty
an acquired taste,
from Scotland,
simply the best.

The angle of her arms,
as she arched her back
in a cathartic stretch,
caught my eye,
along with her apple cheeks
dimpled in a smile.

The church bells rang
out the Cambridge chimes,
as the camera flashed.

The birds in the bath
perched as if posing,
a picture in the park,
taken by the tourist,
that picked up a feather,
as a matching souvenir.

The boards on the bridge
of the wooden walkway
creaked, underfoot, over the creek.

The ball flew across the distance
made a popping in the glove pocket
as the children exercised muscles
in their small flexing arms
and in their expanding lungs
with contagious giggles.

The bees buzzed around my nose
as I stopped to sniff the ruby roses
growing along the rocked path on my way home.

Echoing among the craggy cliffs
the sounds of water cascading
over the precipice and falling
hundreds of feet into the ocean.

The flat water turns to ripples
scattering outward in rings
that may eventually
undercut the overhang into a cave.

Prarie lands cling to the top of bedrock
precious inches of soil
held in place by sweet green grass
allowing sheep and goats to feed.

I sit, feet dangling over the edge
taking in the scene
and adding to it with a mellifluous tune
I whistle along with the waters echo.

Inspirations are contagious,
a quickly moving infection
of poet's minds,
and passed on through contact
with words and verse.