In your hours of loneliness,
when you lie barren
& temptation teases you,
it doesn't really matter,
either one will do my love,
I will be with you
in fiery spirit.

Tell me
you want me
& I will whisper
my own truths.

Tell me
I rock your world
& I will give you
the meaning
of explosion.

Tell me
my kisses
melt your heart
& I will give you
reasons to never be apart.

Tell me
something,
anything
& I will find a reason
to love
you.

Next time you use
your fingers
to imagine sugar,
think of me
& I will be there
with my fiery-spirit
to help you
feel sweeter.

When you close your eyes at night,
do you see me above you,
do you feel me moving?

Do you know
I count your breaths,
I trace your soul
with imaginary-fingers?

And when you press deeper,
clutch your pillow,
you will dream
of my warmth
inside you,
our electric-glow.

I will it so.

I read the writing
on your broken wall.
Though like scribbled graffiti,
the message was quite clear
& I will not be here
when your sun rises.
You will miss me.

I stood in a waterfall
early this morning
playing make-believe,
dreaming of you
& how it would be
if you had been here.
You should have seen my reaction,
the slow steady action,
the tiny beads tumbling over me,
rolling down
from my crown
to my feet.
It was a steamy affair,
I had no cares,
not a single one.
In my ecstasy,
I threw my head back
& loudly shouted
your sweet name.
And under the torrent,
I wished you could've been here
for this sweet glorious
good clean fun.
I wished.

You were so fine,
the way your lips
intertwined with mine,
so genuine,
it was indeed
unadulterated bliss.

I wish
I could taste
your beautiful kisses again.

For they were purer
than the freshest lemonade,
more intoxicating
than applejack moonshine,
sweeter
than a Cadbury chocolate fish.

I need...
uhhhh,
I want  to kiss you
badly.

I wish
I could bottle
your dreamy
sweet-scent.
I'd carry you everywhere
& every time
I needed comfort,
wanted to be satiated,
I'd unscrew the capsule
& splash you on me,
bathe in your musk
& inhale your
divine fragrance,
it's genuine-lady.

I wish
I had the cure
for broken-heart
outbreaks.
I’d make billions.
It’s pervasive & so widespread,
like an epidemic,
I’d always have sad-customers
to feed my bank account.

I looked up
through cypress boughs
to see the sliver, a moon smile
casting eerie shadows upon
leaves dancing, swaying moss
swirling & ricocheting
the hard echoes
of bullfrogs singing
rich swamp melody.

I wish I could
stay here forever,
in this southern flavor,
deep in the bayou,
where gators growl.

Toothless
he dragged himself along,
legless
through the mire
on a wheeled-board
covered in
***** & feces,
to beg for coins.
I thought Jesus,
I thought I had problems,
my issues seemed insurmountable
'till I witnessed this
human-like form skimming
the cobblestone streets
at dog-eye level.

I woke up
to an electric dream
about you.

O Sweet Lady,
my head was buzzing
& my *******
were throwing sparks,
everything else
was just humming.

A million
or more
volts jolted
through
my entire body,
nothing seemed wrong,
only right.

O Darling,
you have such
fine amperage
& I could not fight
your voltage,
it's so magnetic.

A strong current
pulsed
through
my fingertips
strumming
& I knew I was had
when my circuits
overloaded.....
what pulsations!

O my God,
I truly confess.
you touch my soul
& I'm *****-bad,
definitely
not bumming.

I sit here quietly
in amazement,
as the planet spins
twenty-thousand
mile-per-hour,
wondering if,
as the moons sinks west,
the songbirds
feel the vibration
of the rising sun.

And I know
they must,
by the songs
they sing,
in brilliant harmonies.

Silence comforts me
in this early hour.

Here I lie
alone,
peeking through plate glass
at the beautiful
heavens above.

A million crystals
adorn the pitch,
twinkling subtle harmonies
& I wonder,
I wonder about you,
if you see the same summer skies,
if you have the same itch,
lying alone
in wonder.

O I feel
you,
your sweet power,
my love.

Can words
really tell another
who we really are.
It seems our
dreams & realities
blend somewhere,
most times get
lost in translation.

And,
the hardest thing to do
is trying
to figure
this all out.

Will we ever,
or are we destined
to read & write forever?

I wonder what Shakespeare would say,
or some of the many others
I really want to know!

I used to light candles
& say lots of prayers,
heard coins
clanking in the jar.

And now,
all of that cash
is being paid
to the altar boy,
our father
fondled.

I won't go back,
no way.

All I ever wanted was
a plain old hug,
somebody just to hold me
& whisper everything
was going to be alright.

There's no doubt darling,
I can handle myself,
I can rumble
with the roughest
& I've got the fuckng scars
to prove it.

****** sugar,
this bravado
I wear
is a mask,
but I think you should know,
tough guys need love too
& I won't ***** you
over like
those sweet-talking
pansies.

I would kiss
the ground she walks on,
but she always takes flight,
is so ethereal
& such a mystery,
I can't seem to
find any of
her footprints.

So instead,
I kiss the air she breathes,
hoping she inhales me.

Love
I  write about
& sensual things
to forget,
to forget about
the horror
of blood
& guts spilled
in the desert
by
hate.

I hear it in her voice,
alluring
she hungers,
a slave
a slave
to this tingling.

I feel it,
I feel it
in her vibes,
it is maddening.

She thirsts,
I hear it,
I hear it
in her raspy throat.
& the remoteness
found in her broken heart,
beats deep,
deep,
deep,
behind the scenes,
she starves.

Give me a reason,
I yearn forever.

I miss
her
sweet
& wanton
kisses
all over my face
& on
my parted lips,
so delicious,
the taste
of
us.

Teapot whistles steam
Anticipation of the green
Relaxation time

I am really not stupid.
You would think
I should know by now,
after a million chances
a few failed
heart experiments,
I would be content.
Every time I think I've got
a handle on my life,
I fall into the downwind
scent of jasmine.
But always pachouli
& soft silky-skin
& a pretty smile
with sparkly-eyes
that laugh
and speak of love.

I'm in a jellyfish daze,
floating effortlessly
with stinging thoughts in mind,
still tentacled to reality,
so luminescent,
gelatinous
for you.

I knew a biker chick once.
She was as tough as nails.
Her name was Jenny,
but she went
by the moniker
"Brass ***** Lady."
She had tracks up and down each arm
from a past life.
A broken heart tattoo
was etched on both hands.
She carried a switchblade,
had a set of initialed knuckles.
She wore a tie dye bandana.
Her vocabulary was not elegant.
**** and *******'
were her two favorite
expressions.
She had a chained
snakeskin wallet
attached to her
black leather belt.
You could see a faint
lovelight in her hazy-eyes...
but like I said,
it was faint.
It was the brotherhood,
those crazy
******* Mongols
who took her under their wings
and brought her back
to the land of the living.
I'm glad she was my friend,
'cause those guys
were nasty enemies to have.
And anybody
who was an amigo of Jenny's
was in like Flynn.
I loved Brass ***** Lady,
she gave me their colors
& nobody ever ****** with me either.

The purple tracks
running up her arms
were a tell tale sign,
a roadmap of hell
to the death
she was travelling to
& no matter what I said,
her hollow
black-eyes spoke volumes
about the journey
she hated,
but could not stop.

It's written
that Jesus
walked in water.

That's some feat,
I have a hard enough time
keeping my own
two feet
on the straight
& narrow sidewalk.

Jesus girl,
you are everywhere,
your memory does not escape me.

I hear you in the lapping surf,
& feel you in the cool summer breeze
blowing between the swirling trees.

I touch
your pretty face,
alone in my endless dreams
& see you in the moving clouds
above me.

Your voice remains
so sweet & melodic,
I'm hypnotized by it.

And Dear Lord,
your delicious flavor
still coats my lips
& I take you,
I take you in my mind,
again & again,
everywhere I go.

I want, I want you so much!

Texting is so out of context
& like email,
you have no inflection.

And are those nice pictures really you
or just some computer-generated
***-pots?

Surely
this invigorating liaison
is techno-madness,
existing in a land that flesh forgot,
where people don't ever kiss
or hug or make love or even touch.

Jesus, I miss you for real.

I saw Jesus in a bar in Dusseldorf.
His beautiful locks
flowed
& his grin was infectious.
His crystal eyes
burned in shades
of hellfire & brimstone.
Everybody was lined up
to catch a dance with him.
It was magical.
The love he spread
was a testimony
to his revelations,
it was a lot.

Jimmy & I
crawled quietly
along the embankment.
I pointed,
he pulled the pin
& rolled the pineapple
into their entrenchment,
just to see
the ****** fireworks begin.
I gotta tell you,
it was a close call.
I sincerely thank God
& my lucky stars.
Schrapnel & blood
flew above our heads
to land not very far away
in the dirt behind us.

I remember Corporal Jimmy,
he was always smoking
& could never keep
his mouth shut.

So it was no surprise
the morning
we found out
he had been sniped
the night before.

He had taken two rounds,
one between the eyes
& the other one
ripped his right ear  
completely off.

I heard he had been
snickering
about a joke
& a cigarette was found
stuck between his lips

From then on,
noise & light discipline
was paramount
to our unit.

Jimmy was just plain right,
he did nothing wrong,
he kicked political correctness
in the ***,
said it was a sad day
when people couldn't talk about
religion or politics or pull a race card.

We called him Popeye,
he said he was what he is,
he was the glue of the platoon.
He gave no apologies,
said people could stick it
where the sun didn't shine
if they didn't like what he said.

Seems strange now,
that's the guy I'd want with me
if the apocalypse came.
He was no sniveler
seeking pity.
He was real.
Not a crying faker.
He disappeared in Colombia,
said he was going down
to check out the coffee,
but I have my doubts.
I miss him.

He joined another list
of wannabees.

Now shifting his
focus on the path that lay ahead,
he got up from the twisted sheets
that covered his solo-bed,
walked mummy-like
to his cracked porcelain-sink,
faucet dripping.

He'd seen it before,
he'd seen it in the thousand yard stare
looking back at him, wryly-grinning
in the early morning gray-glow,
heart-stopping.

And he whispered,
lip-synched these words
between another cycle of dry tears,
"Ain't nothing new boy,
I know all about pain."

Sometimes you just get tired,
it's the same rigmarole,
over & over.
You wait for a spark,
something to pull you back,
to pull you back
from the monotony of it all.

And when you feel that jolt,
the one felt deep,
felt deep in your *****,
you know you're alive
like a few others
who feel it too.

Your kiss is euphoric.
When our lips meet,
a warm glow
floods over me.

I am intoxicated with
the movement of your mouth
& the motion of your tongue,
it dances with mine,
so Heavenly,
so divine.

My heart rate reaches
astronomical levels,
it is hard
for me
to catch my breath.

My skin melts in your embrace,
you have the sweetest look
on your face
when we hug like this,
one of desire & submission.

I can feel your fire
smolder &
it sweeps me off my feet.
Your fragrance is of lilac,
mesmerizing,
so alluring are
your dreamy-eyes.
I cry with joy when
we touch,
when we kiss.

Your touch is angelic,
full of electricity,
it shoots jolts of primal need
throughout my entire body.

One is never the same
after such an episode,
you are forever smitten,
bitten by sacredness.
The nicest thing on this
Earthly realm is
to be jolted
by an angel.

And you are sweet Darling,
certainly one
of those
beautiful beings.

I must confess,
I miss you terribly,
I wish you were mine.

I rubbed her tummy,
kissed her behind each ear
& she,
that sweet-doll
hexed me,
impaled my heart
for good.

Staring in darkness
Crickets play the sweetest tunes
June needs to come soon

Moon glow kissed aluminum,
lighting my way
through the crunching
of broken ice & leaves,
my breath vapor,
a stinging breeze on my face.

Somewhere,
a lone dog barked,
carried between
the lifeless trees
on frigid air,
reminding me
of the living
& I realized
this freeze was
not the apocalypse,
just another typical
winter morn
like all the others.

My kind usually brags about it,
****** & pillaging,
big bad *****,
chalk up another,
notch that bedpost,
I ****** me another one.

But what about those
others who don't' gloat,
hiding in remote thoughts,
stuffing their feelings,
feeling like
they're
more than
just a hard ****
& all alone.

It hurts just as much
as their counterparts,
who feel like trash,
a heart-broken *****
& are just as blue.

O speak to me
you wailing blue guitar,
tell me of your troubles.
Do not hold back,
let your strings bleed.
I'm hear to listen,
'cause my eyeballs
are swimming in good red wine,
just as indigo as you.

I'd be happy if she
just gave me the time of day.

Anything else she'd give
would be a bonus.

I remember when
I was wild & young,
it seemed like I was
always on the run,
looking for that
next bit of fun.

And you do give me good vibes sweet,
you take me to that special place,
where I can get lost in your soul,
reminisce about the good old days.

I think I may be crazy
falling for you like this,
I can't fight it,
'cause it feels so right.

So if I fall asleep
here in your warm bed,
wrapped in your arms,
please don't
put a pillow over my head,
just kiss me.

When a poet is on a roll,
just let them
feel good,
for if
but for a little while,
it's worth it
to us.

My head
wiggles its way
along your
sweet lovely folds.
And you do realize
placement
is everything
Uh-huh.

It's just past midnight
& I can't sleep again.
I try to fight these urges,
vivid sweet thoughts of you
& I just can't,
I just can't help it,
succumbing to you
just past midnight,
again.

I’m an instinctive-intelligent-animal.
I come from a lost warrior-class.
I don’t need to run with the pack.
I make my own way.

I can read a map.
I can use any compass.
I can dead reckon.
I can follow the stars.
I know the constellations.
I can tell time without a watch.
I can read the weather.
I know the four directions.

I can evade.
I can keep myself from
human or canine-detection.
I can build shelters from any material
& if needed, I know how to camouflage them.
I can manufacture traps & snares
& skin & trim the animals I catch.
Fishing & wild game are mine,
whenever I want to eat them.
Bugs are not too bad either,
I’ve eaten several species.

I can manufacture water.
I can swim in water.
I can make a life preserver out of my pants.
I can carry you on my back for distance.
I can make beef jerky and rabbit stew.
I know about berries and slugs.
I know which plants are edible and which aren’t.
I can treat a snake bite.
I know how to set a broken leg & treat shock.
I can sew stitches on human skin & pull human teeth.
I can make a fire from scratch, even in rain.
I know about fire pistons.
I can get lost or I can be found,
distress-signals are my specialty.

I can track other animals or humans.
If you knew my martial skills,
you’d never leave my side.
I can use modern or make primitive weapons.
I know how to use the primitive weapons I make.
I can manufacture body heat.

My mind is stable.
I believe in the sacred.
I know how to endure physical activities for
extended periods of time in adverse conditions.
I know about jungles.
I know about deserts.
I know about forests.
I know about the tundra.

Oh, I am sure you can make it in your own too.

But,
when the lights go out for good,
when the **** really hits the fan,
when the Apocalypse finally comes,
who would you want to be with,
the ravenous pack or with me?

Go ahead,
take some time
to think about it.
Just remember Grasshopper,
I can be the pack’s worst enemy.
They will never see me coming……

I lie alone,
night after night
in between the days,
reading & writing
deep-diatribe
& I've cracked the ******* code
& it still hurts,
despite having partial answers,
just some pattern recognition.

It was a place
where people lost time
trying to remember how to live
& it must have been a holiday,
I saw no less than four patrons
passed out cold,
faces lying in their *****,
empty bottles at the their feet
& the workers
walking around
pathetically
as if,
as if it were business as usual,
just the destruction of human souls.

I am as cool as a fire,
calm like a rabbit,
mean as a dove,
angry like a priest,
loving as a terrorist,
square like a circle,
raging as a summer sprinkle.