She knew I loved puffed pastry,
but what she did with the strawberries & cream
was way over the top.
Now I can't keep from eating her
sweet dessert,
she's delicious,
so tasty.

Last night
by telepathy,
I sent sparks your way,
one hundred million volts.

I shot them from my fingertips,
watched them arc up,
shoot deep into space.

And did you feel
more alive,
somewhat jolted,
any small piece
of my electricity
at all,
Miss Pretty-Face?

I used to crash with that flavor,
that flavor on my tongue.
Your taste was like grace
& your sugar,
your sugar
was
smeared
all over
my happy face.

You are the prettiest piece of art,
a real masterpiece,
unforgettable,
I am sure.
So I think
I'm going to hang you,
hang you from
a forty-five degree angle,
make you a sweet classic.

The pitter patter of raindrops
echoes in my silent tomb,
a melody plays out for me
& this feeling of loneliness.

I wished now I had
shingles instead of aluminum,
the loudness if the tune
is deafening.

Then again,
maybe mister lonely
needs to wake up,
get his own place
& move on,
leave me alone.

I just knew
it was the bandana that did it
& not my rugged-ways.
I take the full blame,
it was not your twinkling eyes,
nor the soft kisses you gave me
up & down
my aching body.

Your lovely pert *******
made no difference
& the way you held
me did not matter,
'cause someday
I just knew,
you might scatter.

The fresh fragrance
of your flawless skin
was of no consequence
& your sweet taste
was no big thrill.

O yes Lil' Darling
I do confess,
you did steal my heart,
you killed me
with your lady-finesse,
but I just knew,
if I could blame it
on my paisley scarf,
it would make it easier
when you left.

Lord knows,
how much
I miss you.

I made
a huge deposit
into her
dream bank
& as my interest grew,
she drew nearer
to me,
saw my account
get larger
& loved me
even more.

I heard them,
lots of them
out on the Altiplano,
crying out,
screaming
to the brilliant stars.

And in my heart,
I knew they
had once understood
happiness.

The waves crash
melancholy against
the rocks
strewn up and down
the shore,
crystalline-sand
covers my
feet.

I stare at the last place you stood,
where I saw
your jade-eyes
spark fire,
a lone tear
slid down your pretty face.
I kissed you kindly,
held you close enough to feel your rapid heart.
I wished I could had
changed things,
your mind.

The gulls unknowingly mock me now...
making this place even sadder.

It's always the same,
I knew you'd be gone,
just like the others
who got their fill from me
in all sorts of ways,
then fled not to feel
the reality of a beating heart.

But if it's any consolation,
your performance was great,
still
I owe you
not
a standing ovation.

We walked dead
with blistered feet
up into darkness,
straight into
a freezing-monsoon.

The next day,
we awoke by noon,
our bodies strung out
on the saddle felt the tremors.

Sometime during the night,
the volcano had erupted,
coating us with ash and ice.

It reminded me like a Sunday,
but it was actually Monday,
not an Armageddon.

Diesel smog hits you smack dab in face here.
It feels just like Baghdad, not Miami.
Then I see the signs for Monkey Jungle,
I realize I’m a bit safer here
& I’m almost home.

Imagine
the sun
rising
in you
& him,
a marvelous
sunrise.
Indeed,
a seeding
from
the angels
way up high,
deep inside
your
beautiful mind,
so explosive,
fumes trailing.

So the clock spit
its message at 2:31am
& I awoke to the buzzing.
Sat straight up & like
the monster
stumbled
out
into the night.
Only to return
three hours later
without any memory.

She's sweet moondust,
glows splendidly,
is hypnotic.

Her moods are fleeting,
she suffers from phases
& craziness abounds,
I can feel it
& yet,
I am totally mesmerized
by her seductiveness.

When our eyes meet,
I become intoxicated,
am so in love
with her dark
****-energy.

She makes me full,
we need to kiss &
burn the night away,
soon.

I drank moonlight late last night,
got lost on her blue seas,
climbed all over
her mountains,
slipped inside
her perfect crater
& visited her dark side
for hours.
She's so powerful.
I do believe,
this is the sweetest hangover
I've ever had.

The moon,
with its tantalizing glow,
peaked
through my window,
whispering sweet nothings
as if,
as if we were lovers
& alone in the darkness
I succumbed to her allure,
so pure,
so demure.

It looks like
it's one of those mornings,
where you lose all control,
you lying there like that,
pulling your knees to your nose,
wiggling your toes,
taunting me
with your flavor.
You know I adore you,
you know how to make a grown man swoon,
you are a pretty dream,
girl.
O Dear,
the moon's gone down
& you know,
this ain't no frown.
It's the biggest smile
in the entire universe.
Steady Darling,
hold it there,
moon or not,
it's going to be a great morning,
I can just tell,
you're going to agree...
see.

Every time
I get lost
in ancient chants,
hear the sitars,
the chimes tinkling
in the sweet-sounds
of the tweeting-songbirds,
it gets drowned out
in the noise of the traffic
carried in the arms
of sacred-winds,
doing more harm
than good.

I was born
two hundred years too late
& don't ask me
why I feel this way people.
I just do.
But it could be
there were fewer people,
a lot more human respect,
& a lot less technology.

I've witnessed
the blackness of space,
seen my tracks disappear
down into the clouds
& in those moments,
those precious
fleeting moments
amongst
the swirling zephyrs,
I felt more real,
more real,
than anything else
on Earth.

I want to run my fingers
through your flowing hair,
kiss your rosy cheeks
& savor your precious lips.
I just want to hold you close,
nothing else......well, maybe, not.

Flesh & bones
configured
at a molecular level,
my emotions are molded by time,
these hard knocks
& a temporal existence
begging for life,
to feel,
to feel real,
like I'm more
than just a ****.

You have more than love
written all over
your glistening
pretty-face.
My name in cursive
looks quite nice,
ohhhhh.

I am lost
in the recesses,
these rainbows
of my wanton mind
dreaming of you,
a warm arc
reflecting light
in the morning sun.

Inspiration comes
in many forms,
it can be stroked
from well-chosen words
or from clairvoyance,
vivid-images sent
across the moonbeams.

And cloaked in darkness,
I lie alone,
rising
to your sweet descriptions
of the morning sun,
certainly not obscene,
but dreamy-like.

I pray to the morning light
on sore knees
asking for just an ounce of wisdom,
a little strength
to fight
through these circadian days
feeding the machine.

Morning star awakes
Peeking under the curtains
I give thanks today

I miss those
early morning runs
crosstown
over to kiss
your pretty little face.
Do you remember?
I'd tap lightly on your door
& you'd let me in.
There was never any fighting
our hot moments,
we were always
ready
to sin
& sin we did,
all over the place.

Those squishy sounds
we made
undercover,
the smacking wet ones
with your
forceful commands
& the real moans
& whispering sighs
were enough
to keep me high
on your list
of morning lovers.

I couldn't resist you,
you'd insist I stay
until the sunrise
& usually I did,
gazing at the eyes
I truly miss
because you
moved away.

Hot Chai is Heaven
A twist of lemon tastes right
It permeates soul

Waking up raging
Hormones are screaming release
Deliverance comes quick

The wind blows
chilling me
& a rising sun
warms my face.

Rain falls on my lips,
sprinkles
my naked body
& I get turned on.

It's that easy,
what Mother Nature
does to me.

Early this morning,
I woke up buzzing,
feeling like a granite mountain,
with my ridgelines intact
& my prominent summit
pointing skyward,
kissing the sky.

O adventuresome you,
feeling rather frisky,
climbed onto my slab
& in your usual nature,
planted your flag
upon reaching
my highest plateau.

And we both cried, "Eureka!"

Good trappers worked off their own instincts,
could collect nice pelts all day long,
bringing decent wages.
But it was the great hunters who studied the habits of their quarry,
learned how to trap the finest furs,
and once they got one,
would be done for the rest of the season,
for the bounty on such a prize catch,
would last long into the winter,
sometimes longer.
And quite often, they retired.

Days flow one into the other,
falling through the neck,
single grains in abundance.

Slowly at first,
there's plenty at the top,
then more rapidly
it seems,
they will not stop.

Continuously they drop
onto the growing
mountain of days,
disappearing
with your dreams,
one speck at a time.

O, Sweetheart,
I’m not the repetition,
the problem in
your DSL-connection!

O, I promise,
it’s not me Darling,
the broadband
I’m on &
the interference
I’m sending,
would give you
the nice hot itch,
it's the faulty wiring,
that's giving you
the nasty glitch!

I spotted him in the marketplace,
he was tugging at my pockets
while wallowing
through the *****-mire
riding a wheeled-plank.
He was missing his limbs,
wore a tattered wife-beater shirt,
sores pockmarked his face
& he only had one tooth,
but his smile was infectious,
he had a friendlier spirit than
most people with two legs.

I thank God
he reminded me
about my good fortune.

Today, words
are flowing
out of me
like
honeydew-wine-water.

O Mr. Haiku,
from the bottom of my heart
I thank you kindly!

Who knew
you'd
be the one
to expose me!?

I am the stallion of your dreams,
speed & a muscular frame
are my ingredients
to take you
wherever
you want to go.

Over high mountain passes,
across endless deserts,
through dark valleys,
I can get you there,
safely in one piece,
refreshed & invigorated.

But slumbering lady,
do you ride me
when you sleep,
do you spur me
on and on and on?

Mr. Horse would
love to know,
if you are
a skilled rider,
or just a beginner,
fresh in the saddle!?

We sat next to the raging fire,
watched the embers spiral up,
smoking and joking,
we drank Mr. Jefferson,
talked ****,
drunken like sailors.

The rabbits were nearby,
caged, waitin' for their dedication
to the survival-gods.
The growling of the big cat
was an eye-opener,
felt rather creepy.
But sometime in
the middle of the night,
there was a visitation.
The long-eared mammals
would not make the
gutting-presentation,
the owls go to them first.

I woke up with cotton-mouth,
thirsty as hell,
studied the print patterns
that circled our camp.
It was a huge panther for sure.
Paul woke up
a spell past noon,
thirsty too.
Who knew
we'd lose our meal
to some flying tigers
& whiskey.

Mr. Jones always was
a bit of a freak,
he was so reclusive,
kept himself pent-up
in his ramshackle abode
most of the time.
And talk about elusive.
He'd float back
and forth to his
inconspicuous
beat up 'ole Rambler
in between commercials.
The weird hours he kept
had the neighbors talking,
staying up long into the night,
light pouring from
a sliver in his garage door,
clanging metal,
sawing away on things.
Somebody said
they heard a cat scream.
It came as no surprise to anybody
that he was
the number-one suspect
in the disappearance
of two school children
from the next town over.
The mounted
roadkill-skulls
on his mailbox
may have been a clue.
One of them was human.

A stillness reigns as
Mister Sunshine falls west.
I see his traces
peeking between the valiant oaks,
standing tall,
motionless & unwavering.

Miss Pitch descends slowly
with her blanket of stars,
bringing comfort,
a night of frolicking,
excitement & more romance.

When you get right down to it,
your foxhole brotha is all you've got,
candy *****,
not.
So listen up,
when those unfiendlies trip the wire,
I want Mr. T in my position,
we'll light 'em up,
take 'em down,
make them
meet their maker.

She put him out,
crushed his soul
like a spent cigarette
& he became just another ****,
in an ashtray of regrets,
piled high with broken hearts.

I was the runt of the litter,
had a major hate-chip
on my shoulder.
But as I grew up,
I learned how
to love,
to overcome
my feelings
of insecurity.
Still, from time to time,
I allow myself to be stepped on,
take unnecessary *******.
******, there some names
you never call anyone,
they're considered taboo.
So mum's the word
on rejection.

Engulf me with
your deliciousness,
cover me like snowflakes,
move me around inside
your special thoughts,
use me as any muse would,
fast & furious,
slow & serious,
making me delirious
with your hot ideas
& then some.

The glow of the cell
is invigorating,
you look so nice,
such a pretty face,
dollyed up in red sequins,
lying all over your
disheveled bed
playing sweet harmony
& me desirous
of you,
dreaming to be
*******
strumming
your lovely chords
in space,
a love tune.

I've left my body before,
traveled deep,
deep into
the flowing heart
of another human being.

And in that choice moment
of mutual ******,
I understood the perfection of love
& rejoiced in our need.

Draped over you,
I whispered
my
steady-stream of warmth
inside
your flood.

There's not much to say about
strong sensual mutual feelings.
Having the void filled tightly
with warm thoughts wrapped
around my heart,
our soul,
means so much.