Like the rolling tumbleweeds,
we all go on following needs,
riding opportunities wind,
never knowing where it may end.

Surf the wave to its conclusion,
never rule out, never make preclusion,
for if you limit the where to ride,
you will be stuck, never changing tide.

Ride the horse, till it falls down,
you may never win the triple crown,
but you can always ride another,
crawl out from under, never smother.

Throw the dart, and hang the map,
let her sit in your lap,
enjoy the music and the sway,
life is short, it's best to play.

Keep, chapstick and a knife,
when you find her, love your wife,
when you sleep, pray for your soul,
though life eventually consumes us whole.

Lost in a thought,
triggered by a stare,
I look at you,
and sink into a pool of destiny.

Diaphanous gossamer lace,
outlines your margins,
pulling my eyes deeper,
arousing my inquisitive side.

Your pernicious smile,
excites and saddens me,
vexing my ambitions,
and confusing my vivication.

Slowly, it melts into something,
so simmeringly hot,
that there is no question,
that wrappings will be scattered.

The libidinous winds begin to blow,
engrossing and exhausting rapture,
infiltrating gratification,
reaching a zenith of perfection.

Come sit and think within the dim
of the forsythia caves,
where the shadows chase their tails
and ever waver with the winds.

Stalagmites grow proud,
columns of might and strength,
absorb their power,
the growing stones.

Stalactites, hold on for dear life,
dangling from ceilings,
forever threatened,
of falling.

Gain understanding from,
and contemplate the determination
required to hold on,
an inspiration for life.

The drip, metronomic consistency,
bringing bits of the upper to the lower
growing, ever so slowly,
one drop at a time.

Such is life.

To be trapped so young
suffocating, no air
slowly being destroyed
by one's own choices and breaths.

The clear liquid burns inside
destroying all control
opening her up to
pleasure and pain.

Regrets rise to the top,
as she tries to drown them,
the still drips into the jar,
liquid pain killer.

Trapped in the cycle,
the pain, the drain,
the numbness
the strain.

She slowly destroys her life,
and her liver, with each sip,
bad choice and she cannot stop
opening the jar.

Roaming the depths,
the city's bowels,
a maze of catacombs,
and sewer pipes.

A ray of sunlight pierces
my monochromatic depths,
a lone beam, reflected through a storm drain,
projecting a beautiful shadow.

Intrigued, I look into the light,
blinded, not by the brightness,
but by the beauty standing within,
is she an angel, a fairy, a dream.

Red hair dances at her shoulders,
the breeze a choreographer,
bronzed skin glows, as her shoulders
are revealed by her white tank top.

I find myself staring into a pair,
of deep blue eyes, I begin to drown within.
suddenly I realize, that I am being seen by her,
no longer hidden in my dungeon existence.

Simmering frustration,
trapped amongst the normalcy,
wondering and hoping,
if there is someplace better.

The here and now is not bad,
but the possibilities haunt my thoughts,
running rampant and loose,
bouncing off the inside of my skull.

What might be,
what could have been,
the ifs and whens of life,
come to me in dreams.

With hope against hope
and willingness to pursue,
perhaps destiny can be thwarted,
or perhaps, embraced.

With passions candle lit,
burning at both ends,
for something different,
to buck the status quo.

Searching, looking,
analyzing, lighting fires,
where none burned,
building to an explosion.

Of something different.

Simmering summer sun beams,
magical mischevious mirage gleams,
wavering, wistful, wandering dreams,
slowly sliding slippery sweat streams.

Cool caffeinated colas chill,
monitoring Mayan mountains still,
crackling cubes coalesce till,
groups gathered garner goodwill.

The sight of her
brings a smile,
whether in pajamas
or dressed with style.

To see her move,
to taste her kiss,
is true luxury,
I don't want to miss.

Just like golden fluid,
squeezed from bears,
drizzled over toast,
or cinnamon pears.

It's what I call her
as she buzzes around,
tending our hive,
humming jubilant sounds.

She pollinates me
and makes me grow,
this is forever,
it's not hard to know.

Monochromatic moon rises,
black and white thoughts,
meteoric streaks,
in shades of gray.

A light house beam,
blinding white light,
awakens me,
as creeping darkness recedes.

A blood red glow,
hides its existence,
not seen but felt,
with a rhythmic beat.

Veinous blue pain,
pierces flesh,
penetrating and tearing,
turning me inside out.

The onyx fear,
spear in hand,
begins the chase,
as the forest closes in.

Hidden in aubergine shadows,
fading into colors, darker,
the sheer dripping despair,
unconsolable.

Hints of words whisper on the wind,
reverberated voices, persuade things,
actions, ideas, unspeakable,
piqued, neural gears begin to spin.

Unbidden instructions begin to elaborate,
a plan seeking revenge starts to unfold,
behind eyes, crimson dripping blades,
smoking gun barrels, and deep pits gleam.

An aberrant smile appears,
teeth showing, grinding,
barbarous design conveyed,
a baleful, carnal laugh escapes.

The final shovelful of earth placed,
leaves, dumped from a box, cover over,
an incinerator for gloves, clothes, tarp and shovel,
ironclad alibi, the cold case dropped in a drawer, forgotten.

The clink of ice falling in,
condensation gathers,
beading and running,
like sweat on a summer day.

From the bottle, I pour,
a steady stream of
12-year-old amber liquid,
made on an island in Scotland.

White wedding lace removed,
and vest and cummerbund,
as our destiny begins,
amongst satin sheets.

Words hummed onto skin,
like quilled ink onto vellum,
I slowly write a story
with lips and fingers and tongue.

Cool conditioned air,
along with warm breaths,
raise goosebumps and tighten skin,
as your temperature rises.

A chorus of kisses,
sang into your pulpit,
as I preach my love,
for only you.

Kneeling at your altar,
worshipping my goddess,
bringing offerings,
I pray may be accepted.

This, the first time,
joined as man and wife,
unions made,
consummated.

Through the portal, I stare,
transporting me into oblivion,
spitting me out on the other side
of the universe, unscathed.

The fusion of elements,
hydrogen, helium, and iron,
changing the colors of the stars,
white, blue, yellow, red and orange.

Planets surround me,
atmospheres and water.
dry rocks open to space,
opportunities for all.

Nebulae, shapes run the gambit,
helixes, rings, butterflies, *****,
horseheads, eagles and elephant trunks,
with colors that sear the retina with beauty.

Yet I touch none of these,
I experience this life,
through eyes that devour,
every sight that can be seen.

Trapped behind my window,
protected in my tomb,
floating aloft, in orbit,
breathing recycled air.

Songs that remind me of the nineties,
dripping with grunge and angst,
I sing along, unabashed
from the Temple of the Dog.

I learn that every day
is the day I try to live,
from every belting verse,
I am touched within.

Lost in the garden of sound,
I roam in the super unknown,
a slave to the audio,
downloading all into my brain.

Heavy is my head,
though I wear no crown,
as these memories seep in,
and Hunger Strike plays.

caressing winds blow
bluebonnets nodding in time
the morning's song plays

We are each trapped inside ourselves,
only barely scratching the surface,
of others we encounter,
simply bouncing off the outer layers.

Confined within my mind,
with nothing well defined,
fluid movements of thought,
with no anchor point.

Floating on three axes,
no control, bouncing through x, y, and z,
ricocheting wildly, only,
when encountering my skull.

Curtains fall,
the crowd goes home,
but we must still play a part,
our character changing,
with our locations.

Love opens doors,
Transdimensional gates,
Transporting us to new lands.

Original experiences,
Shared together,
Traveling through time.

Essences blending,
Like incense smoke intertwining,
Flavoring our shared knowledge.

Potential,
a potent word,
rife with meaning.

Possibilities for growth,
stored energy contained,
a word determining the future.

My ears hear a different tune,
than others understand,
my eyes see into true depths of beauty.

With my tongue, I taste,
a quiver as I measure,
a feeling of electricity,
taste buds explode.

With stinging pleasure,
venom injects,
feel the rush,
it is one to treasure.

Swept back into emotional black holes,
inescapable pools of blue surrounding pupils,
drowning in want and knowing full well,
the circumstances of giving in.

With a dry throat,
and dry red eyes,
dehydrated from tears,
alone.

Left behind,
as she moved on,
the earth opened,
and swallowed me.

No longer affected,
the world slides by me,
it no longer matters,
I cannot be touched,
emotions canned,
never to be reopened.

Crystal clear liquid in a mason jar,
lifted into the night skies,
the full moon's light is blurred,
as the two moonshine's mix.

My vision is transformed
from the mundane, everyday
to the extraordinary,
as a drop hits my lips.

The third eye is opened,
spirits and colors reveal
themselves in the corners,
and in the periphery.

They try to hide,
but they are spotlighted,
like the lead singer on a stage,
by the moonshine's glow.

With painful stares,
I look at you,
burning into my eyes,
the pain hurts,
but the vision is a pleasure.

Such raw beauty,
sculpted into perfection,
each curve and line,
stellar topography,
in which to get lost.

Dangling above the world
I see dim movement from below,
a pendulum in the breeze
as I begin an intricate pattern.

Weaving back and forth
in outward motions
an angled filled octagon
begins to take shape.

Watching, more like feeling,
every movement, vibration,
comes to me in laser like
flashes, in reds and blues and greens.

Traveling down silken wires,
where I lurk and wait
manning my security panel
watching for a meal and danger.

An alarm flashes red on my panel,
I feel it coming from above me,
I slink into action
to see what my trap has caught.

A fat green grasshopper struggles
it's wings and legs thrashing as I approach
a quick bite and injected venom
slows the agitation, as I begin to wrap it.

Blue laser lights travel to me
from another quadrant,
I rush to find a lime green Luna moth
it's chartreuse eye spots staring in fear.

A bite and another,
white wrapped package,
left for me to enjoy
at my leisure.

Freedom paid for with lives and blood,
boots on the ground all around the world,
landing craft beaching on foreign shores,
as bullets, whizz by and bombs explode.

Aircraft were flown, in all manner of skies,
ready to act at a crackle of the radio,
the black depths patrolled by submariners,
watching and listening with tools of sound.

Floating on the surface of the worlds waters,
gun metal gray monsters loaded for bear,
the sailors pride evident in the gleam,
inspiring respect, and fear.

From out of planes they bail,
carrying everything they need,
landing behind and among the enemy,
this is where heroes are born.

Uniforms shined and polished
medals pinned upon proud chests,
tears fall down everyone's cheeks,
as flags are draped and salutes fired.

Freedom purchased with brave lives,
still, some must soldier on,
remember and respect,
the ones in uniform.

The living electricity flares,
reaching down from gray skies,
out of swirling clouds,
with its enigmatic claw.

It's mighty roar following each attack,
hearts stop, fires start, at its impact.
the world, engulfed in black storm shadows,
is revealed for a moment in a flash of release.

A moment in time,
burned into retinas,
as rain begins to fall,
and the wind whips.

Once more the golden fingers grab at earth,
a rumbling scream follows,
the storm drags itself across the landscape,
leaving glass fingernails embedded in the earth.

Flavors and layers,
all hidden inside,
shadowed by a mask
of fear or pride.

To truly find out,
trust must be gained,
sometimes the beginnings,
are nothing but strain.

Small punctures made,
by teeth and by fingers,
the first pleasurable taste,
a memory to linger.

As peelings and wrappings,
are removed over time,
flesh and nectars revealed,
tongues tingle in the sublime.

No more secrets hidden,
seeds and core exposed
fingers and face drip divine,
identifiable smile, everyone knows.

Golden lightning strikes
orange flames bloom like flowers
ancient man harvests

Deep in a creek bottom,
verdant and green pines stand still,
a gurgle, more felt than heard,
emanates from the flowing water.

Occasionally a small crack of a twig,
a footfall rustle, always from behind,
an imagined noise of the leaf,
as it flutters down from on high.

As the breeze begins
a low roar in the distance,
the trees begin to dance and sway
as it slowly closes in.

Then the chimes start,
hung in the trees by my mother,
years ago, a memory ignites,
each time they are touched by the wind.

Silver tubes flash from behind green leaves,
sunlight glints off them as they ride branches
moved by air and provide a song
for the dance.

Wooden phalanges scratch,
skeletal sounds upon glass,
bark, the color of dried blood,
flaking and falling to the ground.

Distorted gold green moonlight shines,
through warped and broken windows,
creating an unearthly crawling pool,
slowly oozing across splintered boards.

A howling wolf wind raises hairs,
pure dread, as it batters never-ending,
threatening to knock down rotted walls
and beats through barely locked doors.

With a final lunge, the door collapses,
a cloud of dust browns out the night,
cloaked and fast, a faceless body dashes in
a scarecrow lands next to me, as I scream.

An ear-splitting peal of thunder,
follows a lightning strike
the smell of ozone
as the storm passes.

Be ever aware
of the targets on you,
with every word spoken,
bows are drawn back.

Every step and thought,
how you dress,
the company you keep,
adds projectiles to their quiver.

Waiting and watching,
usually for your back to turn,
or for you to exit earshot,
their arrows are loosed.

Turn and face them,
duck and dodge the onslaught,
some may draw blood,
but never let them hit cleanly.

The poison on pointed tips,
work to cause self-doubt,
wear on you and cause lethargy,
a diminishment of self and dreams.

But knowledge, intelligence,
the willingness to be your own,
is a mighty shield, wield it proudly,
it will deflect all doubt and envy.

Powered by will and confidence,
honed over years of attack,
protect yourself,
cast it over others in need.

White lines and yellow stripes
lit by high beam headlights,
continually run away,
into the deepening blackness.

Straight ahead is a void,
devoid of light and stars,
we are drawn that way,
by the path of least resistance.

To the left and the right,
the sky is energized,
pitchforks and talons,
grab and stab at the earth.

Bass drum beats follow
each blinding swipe,
but we just keep rolling forward,
headlong into the night.

Our destination sings out,
using the scan button on the radio,
beckoning us onward, with country and rock,
and we follow despite the building storm.

Porch swing chains squeak,
an orange and gray cat rolls in the sand,
a dozen different birds sing
not a breath of wind stirs the leaves.

A mosquito buzzes incessantly,
the crows loud caw drowns out everything
a deer glides through the woods,
as I continue to swing and watch.

Down the hill, a red robin glows neon
against the brown and green backdrop
of oak, sweetgum, elm, and pine,
a woodpecker begins it's drumming.

Purple finches rummage through leaf litter,
below a hanging seed feeder,
in early morning sunlight beams,
I have to cough, it silences the woods.

But only for a moment.

The suns rays beat down
exposed skin turns to a bronze
a bead of sweat drips.

Delicate curves show
foaming waves crash down loudly
on the beach display.

Hot golden sands glint
accented by bikinis
an array of shades.

Kites fly on shore breeze
umbrellas and tents throw shade
bags are tossed at holes.

Cooler lids creak open
cold drinks are passed around
sweating in the sun.

Destined to die,
erased from all of history
unless you dig DNA deep
and under yards of soil.

I am but a fossil,
a piece of mitochondria,
imbuing few traits,
but allowing for future generations.

I am no-one and nowhere,
yet I cross borders,
and reach through the threads,
of history and of time.

Dust brushed off an artifact,
a skull, a jaw, phalanges,
bone or flint knife,
a piece of ancient pottery.

My fingerprints are everywhere,
yet invisible to most,
continuing to live under the surface,
but extinct for millennia.

A single bead at first
begins to run down my spine
turning into a torrent
as sol begins to climb.

Skin begins to redden
in the July sun
it's is not hard to tell
that summer has begun.

Mercury climbing up past ninety
even in the darkest shade
the beer in my Yeti never gets cold
the heat doesn't care how much I paid

Lakes and rivers, oceans too
the people flock to in mass
standing neck deep in water
waiting for the scorch to pass

Rattling bones in my ears,
from bridges long since burned,
jaws open, but no words emerge,
deep dark holes, stare into my being.

Fleshless fingers reach out,
into my dreams in the night,
drawing me into prison bars of ribs,
where once lived a beating heart.

From closets, and from under beds,
and even from within the walls,
the never-ending scratching,
of them trying to get out.

Some were friends, other lovers,
all now excised from my life,
I have moved on, or so I think,
haunted by the bones of the past.

Resuscitating me to breathe,
pressing on my hearts strings,
raising my eyes, to a life bringing beauty.

Loving tears seep into crevices,
rehydrating and invigorating,
visions and smells of love.

Using breath to change my form,
like a glass-blower sculpting,
bringing out my inner glow.

Coaxing me into new shapes,
taking me to new levels,
with heated breaths and skilled hands.

Ankle deep water caresses us,
we walk hand in hand over the sands of time,
revisiting memories, literally and mentally,
vacationing on the beach where love bloomed.

To be folded into your love,
an origami sculpture of two hearts,
to sail away on a paper airplane.

From my seat upon the moon,
I hear the laughter of the loon,
see wings flashing of blue-green teal,
gazing upon a scene quite surreal.

With moonlight, I light the way,
Over open oceans albatross play,
In the blazing white Antarctic snow,
Emperor penguins black feathers glow.

Chickadees flit and perch,
the hunting shrike a meal to search,
The blue king fisher has one wish,
Clear water and a long plump fish.

Purple Martins sing and swoop,
Scissor tail flycatchers loop to loop,
The ostrich runs across the land,
But never buries its head in the sand.

The horrible sounds,
of master padlocks
fastening, click,
sealing out a former love.

Floating in my sorrow,
bobbing along in pain,
a memory trapped,
in a glass bottle,
and the sound of broken wings.

Rotting love's flesh in a circle,
revealing the truth underneath,
devoured by your injected venom.

My feelings congealed,
and oozed to the lowest point,
where I waited to be splashed,
into a thousand drops.

A red and white patterned ball,
emblazoned with blue stars,
rolls across the lawn of green,

Across a gray concrete retaining wall
muddy brown red water reaches
for the land with every windy wave.

Orange washers fly through the air
looking to land in the yellow trough,
in the opposite direction, red washers fly.

Giggling children sprint by with water guns,
stopping only to grab dad and friends another beer
with blue mountains on chrome out of the cooler.

Silver smoke curls out of the red stack,
the smell of brisket and ribs barbecuing,
mixes with the coconut smell of sunscreen.

Camo and flag patterned bikinis
worn by wives and girlfriends
are a stark contrast to the pink floats.

The women bob happily on the lake,
tied to a stake in the shallows,
enjoying frozen margaritas in the sun.

We all await the night's show
fireworks sparking in the night sky
the booming of beautiful artillery shells.

Sunlight glints off of the chrome wheel,
matching suicide **** attached,
beach sand powder coated Xpress boat,
bobbing in the blue water, waiting.

Trailing around the silver 90 horse motor,
is a yellow rope harness, like arms holding on,
a red ski rope stretches off into the water,
attached to a purple and black tube.

I hear an excited "ready" shouted,
a raven and a ginger-haired pair of girls,
hang tight like turtles on a log,
wearing blue and black jacket shells.

I fire up the motor, it purrs happily,
sending a stream of white foam aft,
I throttle forward and take off,
looking into the afternoon sun.

Suddenly I turn to the right,
then back to the left into a circle,
throttling the speed up,
shooting the tube out passed the wake.

Three more circles and straighten out,
watching the faces of the observers,
tells me the girls have just let go,
I spin around to pick them up.

They float grinning and laughing,
complaining of arms of gelatin,
as they climb in the boat,
the water dripping onto my feet.

Knock that chip off your shoulder,
you spoiled little brat,
you are not owed anything,
the world doesn't work like that.

Coddled by your parents,
given trophies for showing up,
brainwashed by professors,
to expect a golden cup.

The real world slapped you down,
there is a ladder to be climbed,
but no one ever told you,
that its a daily grind.

So you cannot hold a job,
none are good enough for you,
or that's what you think, truth is,
you bit off more than you can chew.

So drop your superior attitude,
understand that life is hard,
to build your crystal palace,
you must work for every shard.

The smell of the sweat
as I lift my hat from my head,
the heat and days issues rise
like steam off a pressure cooker.

Snifter of scotch is poured,
the amber a tonic to see,
the smell of peat and seaweed,
the taste of smoke and salt.

******* back
and a quick refill,
begins to dull the edge
sharpened by Monday.

A treat sealed in a wood humidor,
opened up to another delicious smell,
tobacco from Dominica, I clip the end,
a quick dip in my scotch, and hunt the lighter.

A wood match found and lit
the burn invades my mouth,
puff, puff, puff, and exhale the smoke
as it climbs, so does my spirit.

I sit and put my feet up,
enjoying the tastes and smells
of wood smoke, tobacco, earth,
and letting both burns cauterize my soul.

Addicted, now I am,
I need to feel you soon,
I have become your stalking wolf,
no need have I for the moon.

Since our encounter,
love thirsty have I become,
on every breeze, I smell your scent,
to your will, I have succumbed.

With searching eyes, I watch for you,
around every corner and bend,
though you don't hide from me,
I need the sight of you to mend.

With you in view, I need to howl,
to release this feeling inside of me,
I am transformed into something new,
even others around can see.

Like a curse broken, I am free
to love all of you, it is my need,
like a dose of coke or ****,
upon your love is how I feed.

grinding ice travels
across a billion years
forming the landscape

Flinging words onto the page,
with automatic fire,
aiming at the masses,
it's them I must inspire.

Drooping eyes, but wired mind,
excited by coffee's caffeine,
longing for the silence,
only found in loneliness.

Karmic questions,
with no answers,
rhetorical thoughts,
always what ifs.

Questions breed answers,
which result in actions,
thoughts grow ideas,
watered with brow sweat.

Imagination skews reality,
eventually bending it to its will,
changing preconceptions,
quaking the status quo.

Winking skies,
artificial fireflies,
amazing colors flash,
my heart begins to dash.

Crimson, copper,
cadmium green,
explosions in the night,
in the sky and between us.

Carbonated bubbles of passion,
fizz and float around and inside us,
let's shake the bottle,
once again.

A threat and a promise
all contained in truth,
walk the line,
as the ring of fire surrounds you.