With singed wings, I soar,
looking for a place to land,
to soothe my burns and heal,
to be ready, once again, to face the fire.

Cold blades wielded
in hands just as cool,
the frigid heart beats.

The lonely moon traverses
the cold and lonely space
waiting to be touched
yet again by the sun.

Do you ever wonder
if the ones you love
really know how much?

Are the hugs and kisses
and the words I love you
really enough?

The cards the gifts
and the trips
does it really show?

Is there an answer to this?
Is there any way to know?
Perhaps a bit of faith!

A little bit of hope,
that they always know,
how much love you have.

The clarion sounds in my head,
as I observe all eyes on her.
Heel toe walk across the floor,
a rhythmic sway hits the room.

A bit of jealousy turns me green,
as they steal bits of her from me,
one blink at a time,
with covetous stares.

Shoulder length, red hair, curled,
an emerald green tank dress,
revealing tan arms and legs,
twinkling blue eyes catch the light.

She reaches our table and sits,
places her hand in mine,
my security system relaxes a bit,
an unfulfilled sigh is released by the room.

A glass of wine she lifts,
its color matches her lips,
ruby redness swallowed,
her sweetness taming the ****.

I lean in for a kiss,
I can feel the heat from eyes,
and I can hear the lyrics to Jessie's Girl,
playing in their heads.

I stand in the middle,
dead center under the roof,
yet still I am splashed by cold water,
both from the sides, and underneath.

The green lake water rises and falls,
as thunder and lightning crash and flash,
a slow moving storm, at mid day,
pushed by a slow breeze over me.

I am happy, as I lean on a boat,
hanging in a slip, gently swaying,
my spinning reel on a short rod
tipped with a chartreuse jig.

I drop it in the water to the bottom,
and reel it up one turn, and bounce it up and down,
a tug and a pull, and a fat white crappie,
with a black stripe and spots gets lifted to me.

Unhooked and in the basket, he goes,
several of his brethren already swim there,
their bite turned on by the storm,
I enjoy the sounds, sights, and fish.

Do you ever wonder why,
we are born so we can die,
and all through life we must try,
and through rough waters, we must ply.

Working hard for a piece of pie,
making wishes to stars in the sky,
speaking sarcasm with a wit that's wry,
then with our last breath, leave with a sigh.

Lost in the city's sin,
despair pools into a pit,
as you slowly start to sink in,
you cannot stop it.

The vocalizations of pleasure and pain,
sound out into the silence of the night,
their steaming liquids fall like rain,
the pleasure overcoming fright.

As needles bite and inject,
and you sip the demons in a cup,
addictions, bacteria, and virus infect,
and all you hope to do is wake up.

With Swiss cheese upon her nails,
I blew the wind upon her sails,
pleasure and pain scratched down my back,
with my hunger I did attack.

Set her oven temp up high,
can hardly wait for her pie,
steaming, hot, and quickly ready,
and the aroma, always heady.

Oh I wish for crispy crust,
a way to contain my syrupy lust,
stuffed with fillings made of meat,
it would make my night complete.

Hidden in the closet,
chained to walls,
they live in fear of me,
I am not like them.

Welcome to today,
get ready to pay,
with guaranteed pain,
and tears falling like rain.

Life is a struggle,
get ready to juggle,
people, bills, and rules to obey,
you can try but does no good to pray.

The lessons are hard and often,
no matter what they end in a coffin,
it's really just a question of time,
do you try to stay right, or just turn to crime?

These are the questions you face,
if you answer wrong, have a face full of mace,
or your hands raised up high in the air,
when the bullet is fired, ends in despair.

But the situations are yours to make,
they can be pleasant or coiled like a snake,
ready to strike out and bite,
venom sinks in if you fight.

Rotting a hole
into your soul,
that rarely can be fixed,
super glue and blood, just don't mix.

So count the days you are given,
all you can do is just keep livin'
doing the best that you can,
in the end, all you are is human.

Hood rats and hipsters
walking the street,
knit caps and headphones,
in the summertime heat.

Watching these people,
you're just not sure,
are these alien hybrids,
or straight human pure.

The reason you ask,
and it's true apropo,
we're walking around,
in Roswell, New Mexico.

Here the aliens
are wild and free,
walking the street
looking like you and me.

Green alien carvings
and cardboard cut outs,
help them hide in plain sight,
and lend substance to doubt.

But make no mistake,
the extraterrestrials are here,
eating green chiles,
and sipping on beer.

Years and years of construction,
houses, businesses, shiny skyscrapers,
an earth quake shakes the foundations,
poor designs equals mass destruction.

Islands populated to the max function,
nuclear power plants on the beach,
resorts, palm trees and pools,
tsunamis cause mass destruction.

Through mating rituals and seduction
Earth's population increase by factors of ten,
little nature still exists,
a comet erases with mass destruction.

The grain was like ocean waves of green,
as far as the eye could see, in motion,
the wind crawled invisibly amongst the stems,
shaking each one and testing its worth.

The fifties model tractor, blazing red,
trudged along, working a private patch,
in the backyard of an old ramshackle house,
patchworks of colored siding holding it together.

The white hair of the old man driving,
was tested by the wind as well,
red and white bandana tied about his neck,
flapping, along with the straps of his faded overalls.

As I walked the fence row, such as it was,
more rust and rot than metal and wood,
I waved to the man and the whitest smile
and the return of the wave came back to me.

Like scenes from childhoods memory,
today plays out in slow motion,
with smiles and hugs and congratulations
on the day you get your diploma.

Though the path has been rocky at times,
fueled by hormones and arguments sake,
the love and honor I feel today,
is causing this parents heart to quake.

So as you walk the stage,
and climb a rung into the world,
be proud of your accomplishments
today wave your flag unfurled.

But remember life is a journey,
and this is but one of many strides,
do your best in everything you can,
and I will be filled with pride.

Down one of life's many trails,
you cannot see passed times veils,
you can make inferences and guesses,
to set yourself up to prevail.

Pay attention to the clues,
avoid all your prior miscues,
learn from those life lessons,
when asked to dance never refuse.

Meet new people and their friends,
respect their views, don't condescend,
you cannot make it all alone,
and will need them in the end.

stones that never roll
cannot make a music beat
soundproofed by the moss

You danced through my beats,
you drank from my life's blood,
my valves murmured in your presence,
you took what you wanted, a bit at a time
I let you.

The temperature cools as the first star winks,
your blue eyes catch the distant glow,
illuminating the fast fading light.
edges soften, smudged by the shadows,
like a work of art, viewed from different angles,
intriguing, exciting, and different each time,
yet I never tire of looking as night falls.

Reasons are needed,
to help explain reality,
but the truth is random
and chaos rules.

Reflections of time
show in my mirror,
but that is not the me,
I see in my mind's eye.

silver falling leaves
moonlight kisses the dew drops
the owl ***** its wings

fireflies burn orange
like glowing bits of ember
inextinguishable

With my words upon the page,
I can fill you up with rage,
or I can make you see the dance,
of the redhead ******* stage.

Transport you to foreign lands,
or at the game up in the stands,
float you on the ocean's waves,
your imagination at my command.

I can take you to the moon,
or have you humming a catchy tune,
give you visions of naked flesh,
bikini girls and beach sand dunes.

You are caught on my pen tip,
watching the ink on to paper slip,
waiting for every next word,
to take you on a mental trip.

Crosshairs weave figure eights,
moving across the three-inch steel chicken,
my finger caresses the trigger tighter on each pass,
slow and steady, dead center, as the round fires,
the satisfying plink of steel as the target falls,
and I slide over to the next one in the row.

The cats eye shell sees into the sea,
a million granules of sparkling sand,
toss and tumble in the waves and spume,
forever marooned on this stretch of beach.

That which the eye sees,
is beautifully monotonous,
occasionally interrupted,
by a bubbles rainbow sheen.

The trout green ocean touches
the aquamarine blue sky,
that reaches down and touches
the brown's and blacks of the coast.

Once filled with life,
the shell is now empty,
deposited here with the tides
and left to stare into oblivion.

Down on hands and knees,
as the muddy surf surges around me,
the shells move in a choreographed dance,
there I sit, awaiting the next wave.

The smell of seaweed and fish invade nostrils,
as my eye hunts for the pointed serrated shape,
the telltale black on white colors,
the single toothed grin of a bull shark,

There among the crushed shells,
reds and blacks and the opalescent sheen
of the mother of pearl, long since crushed,
the shark tooth comes to rest.

Extracted from the sand and rinsed,
added to the collection
rattling in the black and silver,
old school film canister.

Later to be examined with my love,
poured onto a napkin and sorted,
by shape and size, and arranged
into an arrow pierced heart.

shining sun at noon
reddening skin, soon to bronze
cool soothing aloe vera

multicolored kites
fly through white clouds and blue skies
a shining smile is born

red and green beachballs
blow about in tidal winds
all children giggle

Pooled silver shines in the light
from the candle on the window,
a jingle on the way to the pocket,
and a smile, with the promise of dinner.

Seated, and warm coffee against the night
the cold winds blow, snow runs with it,
a chunk of crusty bread and butter,
sits beside the steaming bowl of stew.

Hopefully, the calories and warmth garnered,
will be just enough to make it through
the frozen night, wrapped in newspapers,
cash register rings he tries to pay.

But her warm smile and forgiving nature
does not let her take his silver,
she shakes her head and says,
use it for a warm breakfast.

A nod of thanks as he leaves,
stepping into the moonlight,
a Cheshire cat grin shines
the glint from the coins warms him.

The demons that hide in my mind,
are not really that hard to find,
they breathe fire and burn my soul,
destroy my confidence I cannot be whole.

Why must I feel this way?
Does everyone from time to time?
Self-doubt whispers getting louder,
am I possessed by demons?

Their words rip my thoughts to shreds,
creating migraines, I hide in my bed,
the inner voices, from where do they come,
I don't know but they make me numb,

Lost in my mind with no way out,
I can only scream and shout
loud obscenities, but they defy,
I want to rip them from inside.

Drink does not cure the pain,
nor does the medication,
music helps to tune them out,
but only till the next silence.

Red eyes haunt the corners,
bifurcated tails swish in the silvered mist,
fork tongues flick from the shadows,
I may need an exorcist.

Blue-green waterfalling dreams,
each rivulet a cascading stream,
consciousness loose like swarming flies,
all behind rapid moving eyes.

Psychedelic colored worlds
are revealed as night unfurls
thrown headlong into situations
all created by sleep imagination.

Traveling in unknown crafts
with gray men, who know new maths,
large black eyes stare unblinking,
but they know what I'm thinking.

Suddenly on a river, paddling,
yellow raft I am straddling,
heading toward a roaring sound,
and water falling to the ground.

Over the precipice, I begin to fall
screaming out for help I call,
with a jolt, I wake in bed,
dreams and nightmares in my head.

The hatch slides across turquoise waters
hungry eyes watch from underneath
a swishing tail and a surface explosion
causes a flight of glinting wings and yellow bodies.

Chuckling water laughs at me,
as it rushes by through the rocks,
up ahead a cobalt pool waits
deep and smooth as glass.

The mirrored sky reflection
on the still morning's flat water,
reveals to me the teal Kingfisher
watching from the brush.

Silver swirls haunt the shallows,
ghosting motion catches the eye,
green and brown scales suddenly revealed
by the morning sun between the rocks.

Gray green willow branches
dangle in the pristine river,
the Hyperborean water from mountain tops
steam as the sun glints off the surface.

Rufous wings flash in flight
yellow hues are seen through the underbrush
the raucous call of the kiskadee
echoes off the water.

Pursed red lips,
survey the silent scene,
educated intelligence,
barely covers oozing sensuality.

In this hall of knowledge,
all that I seek to know,
leans upon a bookshelf,
a shoosh, locked and loaded.

In her glasses panes,
I catch my own reflection,
caught staring once more,
I smile that of a predator.

Mine is overshadowed,
by the licked lips and grin,
of an apex, about to have,
their favorite meal.

She turns and heads to the door,
silver skirt sways, like a cats tail,
on the prowl,
I sit and wait.

I am the end of the student animal
as it slowly squeezes out the door,
I expect to just leave with the rest,
but the door closes and locks me in.

A waterfall of raven hair spills down,
I catch my reflection once again
words start to come out of my mouth,
a single finger touches my lips, shoosh.

The day's afterglow shines onto distant horizons,
the night birds sing lonely songs,
through one eye the masked tree watches,
the night begins to fall through silvered stars.

The heat begins to release from the earth,
muscles relax, letting go of the day's tensions,
leaves settle as the wind lays, no more energy,
a cooling darkness pervades.

Black Crickets invisible to the eye,
begin to buzz, thousands of them,
the quiet is destroyed by the cacophony,
until motion is sensed in the grass.

Silence grabs and squeezes like a fist,
so fast that even my breath stops,
then glowing eyes appear from the weeds,
green, yellow, shine, approaching.

Her black fur, sleek and glistening,
almost looks wet as she approaches
and jumps into my lap,
purring joins in with the crickets.

The steady throbbing beat of the surf,
the rushing roar followed by the crash,
metronomic symphony of water
meeting the sand of the beach.

Dreams, memories, hopes,
and calls for help,
and sentiments of love,
ride the rhythmic waves.

Penned words on white paper,
stuffed and corked in glass bottles,
wash upon the granules of silicate
causing a scratching and hissing sound.

The pop of the cork as the bottle opens,
70 years afloat in the doldrums of the sea,
eventually deposited here on the Texas coast,
tears roll down my eyes, as I read.

The smell of saltwater
the stench of fish and seaweed,
all blown away by the everpresent breeze,
forming dunes yards from the shore.

Colorful clams burrow after every wave,
garnishing the brown sands
with hues of blue, yellow, red and green,
bleached white scallop shells tumble in the surf.

The sun Burns in on the east beach,
bronzing exposed skin
burning as midday hits
the glare cut with Costa's.

The evening cools and fires start,
bikinis wrap with blankets,
and drinks and stories are shared,
as the spume glows in moonlight.

The sun is burning down on my SFA cap,
my love sits beside me, her leg up on my lap,
we are on the shores of Cedar Creek Lake,
watching boats and skiers cut a foamy wake.

Her golden skin that shows, has a **** glow,
a tan she got started in New Mexico,
the bikini she's wearing is a Texas flag,
makes it look so good, I really have to brag.

We're just doin' nothin', want to come along?
the radio is playing, come on and sing a song.
The cooler is filled with blue mountain beer,
what are you waiting for, just get on over here?

The breeze is steady and its blowing brisket smoke,
my red solo cup is full of Beam and coke,
the table is filled, with snacks and chips,
some hot and spicy queso, I can't wait to dip.

The day is waning, the moon starts to climb,
cool water and sun made the day sublime,
golden stars now fill, the heart of Texas sky,
laying on the dock, in the middle of July.

We are really good at this,
it's our favorite pastime,
relaxing doin' nothin',
really is no crime.

We're just doin' nothin', want to come along?
the radio is playing, come on and sing a song.
The cooler is filled with blue mountain beer,
what are you waiting for, just get on over here?

We're just doin' nothin', want to come along?
the radio is playing, come on and sing a song.
The cooler is filled with blue mountain beer,
what are you waiting for, just get on over here?

Iron willed.
blossoming as others wilt,
riding the waves of hardship
as others drown in the tsunami,

Moving quickly,
most are frozen,
hibernation I shun,
while the masses settle in.

I have no time,
while their clock stands still,
my fingers race,
outpacing the second hand.

Lock and load,
ready to explode,
racking back my slide,
trigger finger ready to glide.

Shadow government brainwashing schools,
don't want to lead, they want to rule,
keeping us down like the slaves we are,
its seems like we just aren't on par.

They keep us down in the pen,
we the sheeple till the end,
time for some one to step and shepherd,
grow some teeth like a leopard.

Build a rebellion, they cannot put down,
time to get rid of these clowns,
but total power corrupts absolutely,
we need some one to rule astutely.

Rise above the cash and clowns,
take care of cities and the towns,
don't forget the small municipalities,
get the big picture, I mean totality.

Take the sheeple,
back to people,
Constitution and the pursuit of liberty,
not just for them, but for you and me.

Hollow calcium matrixes entwined,
serpentine wrapped amongst each other,
a fatal embrace for the ages,
enshrined in a volcanic wave.

Sifting sands and troweling holes,
bites at a time, small snippets and hints,
shadows fall straight down
as clock hands point straight up.

Sweat dripping, miniature drops of mud,
as my shadows begins to move east
slowly but surely, I don't want to waste a minute
because what's left, may finish the story.

The minerals and silicate speak,
a clink of metal on metal, excites,
a golden ring glows brightly,
reflecting against the white and brown.

I realize the truth of the scene,
empty hollows still stare into others,
as the last few minutes of daylight burn,
I realize that that theirs was true.

Even the eons and ash,
could not destroy theirs,
the couples bones tell the story,
of true love at Pompeii.

Rocks and gravel glow,
last of the sun rays fall,
river is still, no discernible flow,
flowers, proud, stand up tall.

Flotsam and jetsam lay still,
picnic table calls to me,
my favorite place to use my quill,
this place inspires poetry.

Green grass sways in the breeze,
clouds in motion are a sight,
I hear the rustle of leaves
evening turns to night.

Steel rail sections of rusty brown
create a steady heart like beat,
as iron wheels travel quickly
over the girder bridge.

Pale naked trees stand still,
despite the metallic music,
a final autumn leaf falls to the ground
dislodged by the smoking train's whistle.

Oranges and ochres and touches of green,
paint the day with brushstrokes of fall,
anonymous passer-bys, notice nothing
in their shadowed silhouetted existence.

Imagined faces in water vapor,
changing rapidly to rabbits,
whites and blues and grays.

Brush stroke winds,
paint the creations,
floating overhead.

Green fronds surround,
I lay in the breeze,
and watch the evolving art.

Swirling universes stored in bottles,
the shelf sits dusty and undisturbed,
greasy smears of fingerprints,
on unidentified labels.

Shattered glass upon the floor,
where supernovas threw them,
illustrations of life and death,
contents evaporated, no trace.

I reach and pick one up,
like a snow globe, I turn it over,
the stars turn to comets, with glowing tails,
an entire existence turned upside down.

See green of pine and white of snow,
lets the city's gray blues go,
clean air is cathartic, breathe in deep,
let's take a walk down to lovers leap.

Holding hands on the trail,
only the feeling of joy prevails,
through the woods, we rejoice,
listening to the mountain's voice.

Dried tracks on cheeks,
speak volumes of pain,
like thunder and lightning,
announce the rain.

Do not fear the voices,
you make the choices,
they are simply along for the ride,
you must always take them in stride.

Words vibrate heart strings,
sometimes pain they bring,
other times they touch us,
deep down in our soul,
replacing our pieces,
and work to make us whole.

Layers protect
and disguise,
the true soul,
but reflect the interior.

Climb the mountain,
of self-doubt,
until it only exists,
behind you.

Oozing tears
from dry ducts
brought on by
words and fear

Indeed they are always here
but you must control, them far and near
keep them at mental arms reach
they are yours so learn to teach

Whip in hand and a chair
tame them like lions, if you dare
or submit to them to be devoured
if you let them overpower

Deeds are much more telling
words are but ideas out of mouths
or poured onto paper and screens
actions based on those words
truly tell the tale

we all feel
sometimes we heal
but not always

Astral projection
against my will.
I float feloniously,
clinging to my sill.

Remote viewed,
remote controlled,
perhaps my soul,
has been sold.

Purposeful pain inflicted,
ripped from the inside,
id and ego cleft,
terror at high tide.

My inner self, hoisted,
now dropped like rain.
my mind is the cause,
of my intense soulful pain.

From your lips,
I feel the burn
capsacin ignition
beyond measure

Scovilles scale
Destroyed by your
radiant red lips
as they press to mine

Southwest flavors
burn my tongue
as my senses
are over powered

Sweat beads
and rolls down
bare skin
stippled

I am blistered
by your love
passion

You are, yin and yang,
two sides of a coin,
both frigid cold,
and fiery hot.

You fill me both,
with love and hate,
you know my thoughts,
yet you do not.

Buttons pushed
to irritate,
lips brushing neck,
to make-up.

Both sides,
is who you are,
but I love,
the one in the middle.

the real you,
the average of extremes,
the median of your thoughts,
that complete me.

There she sits,
with eyes that see,
the things to be,
but costs a fee,
nothing is free.

The answer key,
resides in me,
the future, no longer a mystery.
Godly advice,
awaits delivery.

Simple questions asked,
always taken to task.
cryptic answers provided,
interpretations divided.

Highest authority, at the stone temple pilot site.
Pytho hides,
whispered secrets, divinely lied.
scribed from sky moon tides,
certified spirit guides, leave the naive mystified.

Priestess words at Delphi,
suggestions, from on high,
simply meant to deceive,
from hints hidden up her sleeve.

Silently bleed and plead, from Apollo's creed.
Greek, kings to vagrants seek to critique.
now all believe, in prophecies.
societies deceived, by deity mythology,
from B.C. to A.D.

In the dark shadows
I live and lurk
searching for what I need to survive
looking for an outlet
another soul to touch

Long lost island
quarantined feeling
never visited
except by tsunamis of self-doubt
hoping for the winds of change

The falling coconuts of despair
I consume their flesh
in hopes making myself whole
acceptable for rescue
and return to life

Wild boar thoughts
gore me, as they roam
wild and free
damaged and injured
I sit, alone, on my island